Buffy the Erection Slayer

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3-7 Available On

PLEASE NOTE: This is a preview of this novella. It is available for purchase in its entirety via

CHAPTER TWO

Twenty minutes after Buffy left Mike lying happily on his bed, with empty balls, she walked in the college book store where she worked about twenty hours a week. She didn't really have to work, as Uncle Bob and scholarships were paying for school, room and board. But for spending money and investment funds, Buffy decided to make her own money. Her usual work partner was already behind the counter.

"Hey Boomer," she said cheerfully.

Charles "Boomer" Wiggins waved without looking up from the book he was reading. "Hey good lookin'," he said. He was a sober young man, taller than most, not very outgoing and yet, he was one of the most popular guys on campus. He was called Boomer because he was the kicker for the football team, and more often than anyone wished, it was his kicks that won the games they won. Boomer was being scouted by the NFL because he could kick a field goal from the fifty yard line and make it eight out of ten times. He came from Iowa, from a corn farm, was an only child, and had the most miserably small amount of self confidence that Buffy had ever seen in a man. He was smart and talented and would make millions if he played professional football, but Boomer was scared to try. He could go out on the field at Collins every week and kick the cover off the ball and he was fine. But, according to him, put him in a pro stadium and sometimes he missed the ball completely. Buffy had been trying to talk to him about it for a month, as the football season progressed. But when she did he just buried his nose in a book and refused to say anything.

Buffy put her purse away and looked in her box for any notes from the supervisor. Finding nothing she looked around the store to see if there were any customers. Boomer was sitting on the stool behind the cash register and wasn't any good at customer service anyway.

There was nobody in the store, and nothing to do.

Buffy looked at Boomer and remembered when she had added him to her stable of lovers. It had been several months before, and had started more out of curiosity than anything else. She remembered it like it was yesterday. It had happened right there at work:

"So, Boomer, I went to the game last Friday. I watched you kick. I was impressed," she said, trying to start a conversation. Boomer didn't talk much.

"Thanks," he said softly. He was still reading. Or looking at the book anyway. Buffy noticed his eyes weren't moving.

"I have a question though," she said. "When you run up there to kick the ball, you have on those slick pants that look kind of like spandex, right?"

He looked up finally. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, I was looking at the front of them. A lot of the guys have this huge bulge there, but it has a shape to it. They wear cups, right?" Buffy sounded like she was discussing the price for pork belly futures.

"Yeah," he said again.

"But you don't wear a cup. I mean you don't have that pattern. You just have a lump. And I was wondering why you don't wear a cup," she finished.

Boomer opened his mouth and looked around and then closed his mouth. He looked around again. Buffy stood there patiently, waiting for whatever he was going to say. She was determined to get him talking.

"It ... uh it gets in the way sort of," said Boomer. "When I kick my right leg sort of crosses over my left leg and the cup gets in the way and hurts. So I don't wear it." He looked at Buffy, like he was waiting for her to laugh.

"OK, that makes sense," said Buffy, quite seriously. "But what about your balls? Don't you squash them when you kick? I mean when I saw you kick, it looked like you squashed your balls. Doesn't that hurt?"

Boomer didn't know what to do. No one had ever had this kind of conversation with him before ... certainly no female. Buffy was a beautiful girl, and he saw her with handsome guys. She was way out of his class. But girls just didn't ask those kinds of questions in the world he came from.

"It never has," he finally said.

"Oh," said Buffy. "Well it sure looks like it might hurt. I'm glad it doesn't though. Can I ask you another question?"

Boomer looked at her warily. "OK," he said.

"Do you masturbate before the game?" Buffy asked, just as seriously as before.

Boomer looked around again. "This is like that show on TV isn't it. I'm being punked, right?" he asked.

Buffy laughed. "No Boomer. I was reading a book at the library about professional sports and one of the men they interviewed in the book said that to battle his nervousness he masturbated before each game. He said it made him calmer and he could think better. And you obviously think really well out there on the field, so I just wondered if you masturbated before the games too."

She made it all sound so ... normal. But it wasn't normal. Girls didn't just go up to guys and ask them if they jacked off.

It might not have seemed so weird ... except that Boomer did jack off before every game.

Well, he got jacked off.

His girlfriend, Melinda jacked him off. It was a strange story, and it was the primary reason Boomer didn't like to talk to anybody. He was afraid they'd find out his secret. He'd met Melinda Jones at a school mixer the year before. She was a mousy nondescript girl, just the kind Boomer assumed was right for him. She came from a conservative little town in Missouri. Boomer had started dating her because he thought he should date someone. And Melinda had taken over his life. She had a way of putting a guilt trip on him that was palpable. For example, if he didn't kick well, she berated him for being a failure. She said things like, "That's not the Charles I know ... not the Charles who could be famous some day." She did perform the beatoff ritual before each game, which Boomer had started before he met her, but she did it under protest. She said it was a nasty habit and that if he did it he couldn't touch her. So she did it for him, but complained about it every time.

She refused to call him Boomer. She said that was an infantile name. And she was hinting that football should not be his future. Her father was a successful businessman, and would welcome Charles into the family ... but not if it was found out he required poor Melinda to perform perverted heathen rites before each game. She never let up about it. She acted more like his manager than his girlfriend. She let him kiss her, but sex was out. She stated proudly that only her husband would get her in bed. Those were the kinds of strong hints she gave all the time. And she spent every waking minute in his company unless she had class. She had even come into the bookstore every time he worked until the supervisor told her she was distracting him from his job. When she saw him after work that night she suggested that if he'd only talk to her father about a job he wouldn't have to work for that asshole at the bookstore.

Basically, Boomer was henpecked and he wasn't even married yet. It was depressing, but he didn't have any other options, as far as he was concerned, so he just lived with it.

But now, talking with another girl ... a pretty girl ... who seemed interested in his life ... Boomer began to rise out of his stupor.

"Why would you ask me about a thing like that?" he said, looking at Buffy.

"I think it's interesting. I know girls who masturbate just before they take a final exam. They swear they think better and get a better grade when they do that."

"You're kidding," Boomer said.

"Not at all. I've never tried it myself, but that's because I've never been worried about a final. So I read about that in that book and I thought it might be interesting to do some research on it. It might make a good term paper for sociology or something. So you never answered. Do you?"

Boomer didn't know why, but he wanted to talk to this girl. He wanted to talk to somebody anyway, and here she was, interested in the thing that was his big secret. "Um ... If I talk about this it has to be just between you and me, OK?"

Guys from Iowa farms tend to believe that people will honor their oaths, so when Buffy said, "Sure," he looked around again and in a very low voice he said "If I don't beat off before the game I can't hit anything." He waited for her to laugh, but she didn't. Instead she acted like she was really interested.

"How do you know?" she said. "I mean have you tried it both ways on purpose or something?"

"I know," he said firmly. "Guys involved in sports are superstitious. I eat the exact same meal before every game. I tie my shoes just so. I wear the same sweatbands on my wrists that I wore in high school. And ... the other thing ... it started in high school. I was so excited about going out on the field that I was jittery and I don't know why but I just did it. And it was amazing. I calmed down and the game went perfect. Since I started there've only been three games when I didn't jack off before the game, and in all three of those games I didn't score a single point."

"So why didn't you beat off before those three games?" she asked.

Boomer pressed his lips together. "Melinda," he said.

"Who's she?" asked Buffy.

"She's my girlfriend. When I met her we started going out and she went everywhere with me. And it came time for my ... ritual ... but I couldn't do it because Melinda was there."

"Why not?" asked Buffy.

"Guys don't beat off in front of their girlfriends," said Boomer, aghast.

"Sure they do. I've had lots of boyfriends and some of them used to watch me masturbate while I watched them do it. It was sexy."

Boomer looked at Buffy. He'd looked at her before, checking her out, appreciating her beautiful body, day dreaming about her. No girl had ever talked with him like this before. It made him horny.

"Buffy, are you lying to me? Are you making fun of me?" he asked.

"No Boomer, I'd never do that. You're my friend." she said.

"I am?" he said.

"Well, aren't you?" she asked. "I mean we work together, and we're having this nice conversation and all. Isn't that what friends do?"

Boomer felt surprise. That was what friends did. "Yeah, I guess so." he said.

"So what happened?" asked Buffy. "I mean you obviously started masturbating again, cause you kick so awesome now. But you said three games. What happened?"

"Well I met Melinda when she was a Sophomore. That was my Junior year. And she went to all the games in her Freshman year and watched me and all that, so she knew how I kicked. So when I started kicking bad she wanted to know why. She said it was messing up my schedule for being a football hero. She's really into me being famous because she wants her father to hire me and I guess her town is crazy about football, and if I'm famous I'll do better in business. She never lets up about it. Anyway finally, after three games I had to tell her what was wrong. And she said that masturbating was nasty and a sin, but that she'd do it for me if it helped make me famous."

"So Melinda does it for you? How sweet," said Buffy. She didn't mean it. Melinda sounded like a class "A" jerk."

"Yeah," sighed Boomer. "She puts on the gloves and jerks me off and everything's fine."

"Gloves?" commented Buffy. She was thinking silk gloves, or elbow length satin gloves, something sexy.

"Yeah, she buys these surgical gloves by the box. They're latex so she doesn't get her hands messy. She doesn't like that. But they feel pretty good as long as she lets her hand warm them up a little before she does it."

Now Buffy thought Boomer was teasing her. But his attitude was just like always. After watching him for a minute she realized that the bitch actually was using rubber gloves to "deal" with the requirements for getting her meal ticket to success. Buffy was disgusted.

"Boomer, you deserve better than that," said Buffy. She had just decided to break her rule. Her rationale was that this Melinda person wasn't really Boomer's girlfriend if she wouldn't even touch his cock with her naked hand.

"What do you mean?" asked the tall young man.

"Look Boomer, you're the best kicker in the history of the school, right?"

He ducked his head. "I guess," he said modestly.

"You guess? How many NFL teams are trying to recruit you?"

"I know about four. But Melinda goes through my mail and I think she throws away some of the letters from the scouts."

Buffy was astonished. Why would a gold digger throw away her ticket to the big leagues? "Why in the world would she do that?"

"Well, see, her dad has this plumbing supply business back in the Ozarks, and he wants me to come work for him. Or at least Melinda said so. She says I need to get picked up by just the right team, and then only play for a year or two, and then we can get married and have a baby and I won't have to masturbate any more."

"So, why don't you do that?" asked Buffy.

"I don't know. I like kicking. I'm pretty good at it and it feels good when I do it right. I guess I don't want to quit just yet. And the coach said that lots more people come to the games now because we win more and he says that's because of me. I like that feeling. I've never been any good at anything before."

"OK, you definitely deserve better than this." said Buffy disgustedly.

"I'm OK," said Boomer.

"Boomer, I want to jack you off," said Buffy suddenly. "I want to show you what a woman can do for a man she admires."

Boomer's eyes went white around the edges. "You can't do that!" he gasped.

"Why not?"

"Cause that would break the pattern," he said. "Melinda jacks me off and I do good. If you did it then I don't know what would happen. And if I don't do good then Melinda will make me marry her and quit football and sell plumbing supplies." he finished miserably.

"But I want to do it right now, not before a game," said Buffy.

"I don't do it any time except before a game," said Boomer.

Buffy was so amazed she was at a loss for words for a few seconds. Finally she blurted, "Never?"

Boomer got shy again. "Well, you know ... it's wrong and all. Melinda told me it's a nasty habit."

"Then every man I know is nasty, because every man I know does it, and I don't mean just before a football game. I think Melinda's crazy. There are other women Boomer," said Buffy patiently.

"Not for me," said Boomer. "She's pretty and I love her laugh, and I've never had a girlfriend before her who cared about me enough to tell me how stupid I am."

Buffy groaned. "OK, Boomer, let me ask you this. Does Melinda let you fuck her?"

Boomer looked scared. "No! She'd never do that! She's a good girl Buffy!"

"Well I'm not Boomer, and I think you deserve better than what Melinda's doing for you. How about this? Melinda obviously wouldn't put her mouth on your cock, so would you let me do that for you? I won't use my hands on you at all ... I promise."

Boomer resisted for almost a week, but Buffy wouldn't give up. She just knew that if he loosened up he'd see that this Melinda person was holding him back, rather than helping him go forward. It shouldn't have mattered to her, or so she thought, but the fact she had conquered her own adversities made her want to help other people do the same thing. In an odd, sort of twisted kind of way, Buffy was a philanthropist ... a sexual philanthropist.

It happened after he'd won another game with a field goal. The team they'd beaten was the number two team in the conference and had been heavily weighted to win. Boomer's kick had caused the upset that had made sports news all over the region. And, Buffy had at last seen the mysterious Melinda, holding Boomer's arm as the press asked him for interviews. The dark-haired, admittedly pretty girl had kept pulling his arm, trying to get him away from the reporters, yelling, "No comment". No one paid any attention to her, though, and they got Boomer to say a few things before she managed to pull him away and into the crowd.

The next day she was at work when Boomer clocked in, and she congratulated him on the win.

"Thanks Buffy," he said. "It felt good."

Buffy tried again. "You deserve a reward Boomer."

He was used to this by now, but it still rankled him that this girl wouldn't give up. It took a long time to get Boomer mad about something, but Buffy had just done it. He frowned at her. "Look, if I let you do this ... just once, mind you ... will you leave me alone?"

Buffy didn't mind lying at all, if it was for a good cause. "Of course Boomer. I'll be happy and I'll never bother you again."

"All right then, but just once ... right?"

"Absolutely. I won't ever ask to suck what I am convinced will be one of the most handsome cocks I've ever seen ... ever again. Cross my heart." Buffy drew one finger down between her breasts, slowly, and then again going the other direction. It drew Boomer's gaze to one of her best assets.

They had waited until the store closed, and she pulled him into the back room. He tried to revoke the offer, but Buffy insisted that a deal was a deal and he let her loosen his belt and unsnap his jeans. Then he grabbed her hands and said, "You can't touch it with your hands."

Buffy nodded and then proceeded to not only get him up, but get him as hard as granite with only her tongue, lips and mouth. She kept her hands on his rock hard buttocks.

Boomer had told the truth when he said he never beat off unless it was just before a game. And Boomer had no other outlet for the normal passions every young man has. So Boomer's balls were packed just about as full of unused spunk as it's possible to pack a pair of balls. He was healthy and in good shape too, but he felt like he was going to fall down when her mouth slid over him that first time. His knees went weak and he wobbled so much he had to put a hand out to hold himself steady against the wall. And when he felt the jagged electric shock of his balls powering a stream of cum through the cock buried in Buffy's throat, every muscle in his body seized up.

He usually spurted two or three times and went limp as a cooked noodle. This time one little part of his mind got worried that something other than semen was rocketing through his cock because it went on and on ... and on. And when Buffy dragged her sucking lips off of him to swallow, he was still hard as a rock.

"Oh look!" said Buffy, a sheen of milky white around her lips. "I didn't do a very good job."

Boomer thought she'd done a fantastic job, and told her so, but she just shook her head sadly and insisted she was a failure. She was so abject that Boomer, to his everlasting amazement, felt so bad for her, that he somehow found himself lying on the floor and letting her "make it up to him" by holding his own prick as she lowered her suddenly naked pussy down onto it. She had said, "I'm sorry Boomer, you'll have to hold it for me ... I promised not to touch it with my hands."

And Boomer suddenly found himself in the Super Bowl, kicking the winning points. It had to be that, because only that could feel like what he was feeling.

Buffy had captured another man.

After that, Boomer somehow got used to the idea that, if he kicked well, he should be fucked well, and that Buffy was the girl to do the job. She never touched his penis with her hands, and it took him a month to figure out that she wouldn't put it in her mouth without him asking her to. She had made a promise, and she kept it. But there hadn't been anything in her promise about fucking, and she did that with wild and happy abandon. And every time she did it, as he came in her naked pussy, she bent over and whispered, "Thank you Boomer, for kicking the ball."

Today, it was obvious that Boomer was busy studying. That was another thing about him that Buffy liked. He obviously loved to fuck her, but that wasn't the only thing he ever thought about.

"Too bad we won by fourteen points," said Buffy as she hung up her jacket. "I can't pretend that you won the game for us."

Boomer looked up. "You reward me plenty Buffy." His face got serious. "Have I ever thanked you?"

Buffy laughed. "Only about a gallon's worth. Your lovely penis shoots lots of "thank you" cum into my hungry mouth and satisfied pussy. Boomer you do a lot more for me than I'll ever do for you."

"You are the strangest woman I've ever met," said Boomer. "If it wasn't for Melinda I think I'd fall in love with you."

Buffy smiled. "But you do love Melinda, so let's not hear any silliness about falling in love with me. I'm just your treat for being a good kicker. That's all."

That was the kind of relationship they had developed. When he didn't kick the winning points, Buffy didn't pretend to reward him. On this particular night, there was no sex in the bookstore.

After work Buffy went to Mrs. Henderson's house to pick up Tiffany. Mrs. Henderson was a lovely lady who provided child care for several of the student's children. After the usual passionate greetings, Buffy fastened Tiffany in her child seat and pedaled home. Then it was time for supper and baths and reading. Buffy read to her daughter every night, often the same stories from the same books, which Tiffany never tired of hearing. Then, after Tiffany was sleeping, Buffy hit her own books. She'd been studying for a couple of hours when there was a knock at the door.

Buffy opened it to find Clint Burrows and a young woman standing there. Clint lived next door in the Frat house and Buffy had met him at the local Laundromat. He was a tall, well built black man, handsome and thickly muscled from his summer job handling sacks of feed at a mill in Mississippi, where he was from. He was a foot taller than Buffy, and she always felt dwarfed by him. Buffy had felt an attraction towards him from the beginning, and had tried some of her usual tricks to entice him into a relationship. But, though he flirted with her shamelessly, he had never actually touched her. He carried her laundry back to her apartment for her, that first time they'd met, and had come over for breakfast on a couple of occasions at Buffy's invitation, but try as she might, he never made a move for her. Their relationship had settled into one of close friendship. They could and did talk about almost anything. She eyed the woman. Just her luck: Clint was handsome, smart, and funny, and another girl got him first!

"Hi Clint," she said, opening the door. "What's up?"

"Hi Buff," said Clint in his deep voice. "This is Melanie. I need a favor."

"Sure," said Buffy, curious.

"You know I'm the Pledge master, over at Delta Chi Epsilon," he jerked his head toward the Frat house next door, "and we're in the middle of pledge season. We're really restricted on what kind of hazing we can do with the pledges, but I had this idea. I sort of wanted to talk to you about it."

Buffy showed the two to seats in the living room and sat down with them. "OK," she said.

"Well, you know how you love to flirt," said Clint.

Both of them knew that was an understatement. Buffy had become more and more obvious in her flirtations with him. The last time he'd come over for breakfast on a Saturday morning Buffy had met him at the door dressed only in a too small T shirt that only came halfway down her buttocks. As he sat at the kitchen table and she fixed him bacon and eggs, every time she leaned forward her whole butt was exposed to him. He hadn't batted an eye, though the peeks she snuck at him showed his gaze was glued to her ass.

"OK," said Buffy, waiting for him to go on.

"We thought maybe you could come over and tease the pledges."

"Tease them," she repeated.

"Yeah, like wear something really slinky or revealing and then we'll tell them they can't move and to keep their eyes straight ahead. And you can rub up against them and stuff. Like that."

"And they won't be supposed to look at me," said Buffy.

"Yeah, and they can't move or touch you. And if they do they earn demerits and they have to work them off," said Clint.

"And when did you want to do this?" asked Buffy.

Clint said "We wanted to do it tonight. We contracted with the school to clean all the weeds and floating crap out of the lake, and we're supposed to do it tomorrow. All those demerits could be worked off that way. Otherwise the Frat brothers will have to do all the dirty work."

Buffy looked at Melanie. "And how does your girlfriend play into this?" she asked.

Clint laughed. "Melanie's not my girlfriend. She's is your babysitter."

Buffy looked at Melanie. "Babysitter?" she asked.

Melanie nodded. "They tried to get me to do this crazy thing, and I said no way. But I can baby-sit if you want to do it." She looked at Buffy like she was an idiot for even thinking about it.

Buffy grinned. "Sure! I think it would be fun. What should I wear?"

Now it was Clint who grinned. "Do you have a bikini?" he asked. He figured she would.

"Why I believe I do." mused Buffy. "Wait right there."

She disappeared into her bedroom and in only a few minutes returned. Both Clint and Melanie sucked in a breath. Buffy was wearing the kind of bikini you couldn't actually swim in. A breath of air would knock if off her tits, much less actual water. It was electric purple and consisted of two half moon shaped supports for her breasts, the top line of which didn't even completely cover her areolas. The bottom was a thin strip of the same cloth that descended from a cord belt, covered her pussy lips, and turned into a thong in the back. Where it attached to the cord belt in the front it was only three inches wide. The thong cord in the back started just barely behind her asshole and, if she bent over, it looked like she was naked.

"Wow" said Clint.

"Will this do?" asked Buffy sweetly.

"You'll be gang raped!" said Melanie.

"Only if I'm lucky," said Buffy, still grinning. She gave a little hop and her breasts popped out of the half moon cups. "Oops," she said. She bent over, adjusted the cups to cover her again, and stood back up. She did it with the practiced motions of a woman who had done this many ... many times. "I'm ready." She glanced at Clint's crotch and was thrilled to see a nice lump there. So he was a tit man. That's why he didn't react more to her naked buns at breakfast.

"We may have to make a detour to my room," said Clint in a gravelly voice. "I may need to put on new underwear."

"And you call me the flirt," simpered Buffy.

Melanie took in another breath. "At least put a T shirt on. You'll be arrested on the way over there, otherwise."

Buffy grinned and took Clint's hand. "Come on you big, black, handsome man, let's go for a walk." She pulled him to the door and then looked back. "Tiffany is asleep. If she wakes up and is scared because she doesn't know you, try reading her "The Hungry Hungry Hippo". If that doesn't work, bring her over to the Frat. I'm sure we won't be hard to find."

Buffy kept Clint's hand as they walked down the steps to the apartment building and across the grass to the Frat house.

"If we were back home I'd be a dead man," said Clint, his voice low.

"What?" said Buffy.

"Me, holding the hand of an almost naked white woman. They'd string me up," he said, looking at her sideways.

"Oh Clint, that's so middle ages!" squealed Buffy. "Surely you're joking."

"No I'm not," he said. "What the law says and what is, are two different things down there."

"Well, we're not down there. We're here, and if I want to hold your hand I can," she said simply. She tugged at him. "Now, come on, it's chilly."

Clint glanced over at her nipples, which had popped up out of the "bra" again. They were long and hard. "I love October," he said half under his breath.

Buffy looked over at him, and then at what he was looking at. She adjusted her bra again, covering her nipples. "Finally, I got a rise out of you," she said. She let go of his hand, reached down and patted his obvious erection, and then grabbed his hand again, giggling.

"Buffy, you don't know what you're doing," he said gruffly.

"Oh yes I do!" she giggled again.

By then they were at the front door of the Frat and they went in. Clint led her to the communal living room. There was a Frat brother sdtanding in front of a line of stiff young men, droning on about how important it was to have self discipline and to be able to exert self-control. He glanced over and when he saw Buffy his mouth dropped open. Then it snapped shut and he went on in a much more interested and strident voice.

"And now, gentlemen, we're going to test your self control. Until I say otherwise, no pledge is allowed to say a word. Any words said will be worth ten demerits. Further, all pledges will stand at attention, eyes straight ahead. Do not let anything cause your eyes to stray from straight ahead. If your eyes move it will be worth ten demerits. Do not move. Any movements will be worth ten demerits."

Buffy looked into the room and surveyed the seven young men standing in a line, ramrod stiff. Lounging around the room were ten or twelve bored looking Frat brothers.

They weren't bored for long.

One of the next Frat brothers to see Buffy was Mike Stewart. His eyes lit up and he yelled, "Buffy! Wow! Shit! It's the big one!" He grabbed his chest in a theatrical manner and staggered around, as if he were having a heart attack.

"Hi Mikey," she chimed. "How do you like my new swimsuit?"

Two pledges turned their heads to see who was talking.

Clint bellowed "That's ten demerits Johnson ... Walker!" The heads snapped back front.

Mike came over, followed by four other men, all of whom were drooling as they examined Buffy's almost nakedness. "Oh please tell me it's time to study," he pleaded.

"Now Mikey," scolded Buffy, leaning over to scratch her leg, and showing the men what she had in her bra. "I'm here with Clint. He's my date. It wouldn't be proper to pay attention to you while I'm out with Clint."

There was a chorus of catcalls and jeers directed toward Clint, who smiled from ear to ear and made comments about how everybody was jealous, but that was tough shit.

"Who are these handsome young men?" asked Buffy in a sticky sweet voice. She paraded in front of the pledges, her hips rising and falling as she strutted. "Ten demerits Philby ... ten demerits Jones ... ten more demerits Johnson!" shouted Clint.

Buffy stopped in front of one tall boy who was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched.

"I like this one," she said, moving closer to him. "He's pretty."

The pledge next to them tried to choke off a laugh.

"Ten demerits Rogers!" shouted a Frat member.

Clint walked to the area in front of the pledges. He pulled a pencil from his pocket and a notebook from another pocket. "I'd better get all these demerits written down or we'll lose count," he said. He started to write and dropped the pencil. "Oh, gee, I dropped my pencil. Buffy would you be a darling and get it for me? My back's a little sore."

Buffy grinned and went over to him. She bent over, facing away from the pledges, and took her time picking up the pencil.

"Ohhh fuck," came a groan from somewhere in the line of pledges.

When Buffy stood back up, her breasts had come out of the bra again, and now both proud nipples were in plain view. "Oops, wardrobe malfunction!" she giggled. Her breasts shook as she giggled.

"Fuck me to tears," came a pledge's comment.

In less than ten minutes all but one of the pledges had over a hundred demerits. It got to the point where they almost quit trying. One reached out and pinched Buffy's right nipple. He got fifty demerits for it and then ten more for saying, "It was worth it." Buffy brushed against crotches and stuck her nose into chests, sniffing and saying how manly they smelled. Finally, the only one who had never faltered was the tall boy she had started with. His jaw was still clenched. She stood in front of him and then bent over.

"Clint, I think this one has a hardon," she said. Almost everybody laughed. Every man in the room had a hardon. "Can I see it Clint? I'm horny. I bet his hardon is pretty too."

Ever so slowly, the boy's hands came to the front of his pants and covered his lump.

"Ten demerits Wilson," said Clint in a normal voice. Then, "I guess he's shy Buffy."

She turned around and said, "Well then, take me home and show me yours. My pussy itches."

There was general pandemonium in the room as Clint's skin took on a darker tone from it's already deep brown. Clint clenched his own jaw and offered Buffy his arm, as if she were some great lady, dressed in a gown. Without batting an eye she took it and glided out. The only thing she did on the way was pull her bra out so her nipples could fall back in.

She left bedlam in her wake.

END OF PREVIEW

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