Chapter 11: Tuesday Night Special

© 2022 by Skarlette One

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d suited up as the superheroine Sable. That whole life seemed more like a half-remembered dream. I had a higher calling: Helping Professor Paulson (also known as Professor Patriarchy) in whatever way he saw fit. I cleaned his office, polished his shoes, emptied his ashtrays, and regularly sucked his manly cock. It was all the proper place of a simple college girl like me, Yvonne Yates.

I didn’t help Professor Paulson in his office every night. As a brilliant man of the world, he had far more important things that to indulge my need to learn my place and make use of whatever small comforts I could offer him. The Professor said that on Tuesday nights, it was important for a young woman like me to socialize with people my own age.

On this particular Tuesday night, I had no intention of socializing with anyone. I should have been studying for a calculus test, but I just couldn’t seem to focus on the derivative functions. Holding my head in my hands, I tried practicing the Professor’s scalp massage technique, running my fingers gently through my hair. My worries over my homework floated away and one thought bubbled up to the surface: The perfect place to study was the Alley Cat Lounge, downtown. I didn’t question why it was so important that I get there, I just knew there was no other place for me that night.

Instead of the short skirt and low-cut blouse that I usually wore to help Professor Paulson, I knew I needed to wear something special. I couldn’t remember why, but I had a vague idea that there was a costume party at the Alley Cat tonight (even though Halloween was months ago). Luckily, a mysterious package had just arrived today. I couldn’t remember ordering it, but I seemed to be forgetting about a lot of things lately. Things that were outside my place weren’t really worth the effort to remember. Plus, I was so focused on my lessons with Professor Paulson that it was understandable other things would fall by the wayside.

To my surprise, the package contained a cheerleader outfit, or at least what passed for a “sexy cheerleader” Halloween costume. It had a bare midriff and very short skirt. The team name stretching across the chest was “CHERRY POPPERS,” with the “O” cut out to expose a bit of cleavage. Worst of all, it was made of shiny, skintight PVC. It was not the kind of costume I’d normally wear, but the more I caressed the pressure points on my scalp, the more I knew I needed to get to that costume party. I squeezed into the costume, pulled on some matching athletic shoes, and pulled my hair back into a cheerleader-style ponytail. It wasn’t my normal studying attire, but it’s what I had to do.

My ride-share let me out at the mouth of a dank alley, a streetlight flickering overhead. Most of the neon was burned out of the Alley Cat’s sign, and I nearly walked past the bland, cinder-block building. It wasn’t my kind of place, but I had to go inside.

The small bar was so dank that it made the alleyway seem bright. Apart from the long, well-worn bar, there were a scattering of tables, a busted jukebox, plus a pool table half-hidden in the back. A gray-stubbled bartender watched a hockey match with two regulars who had probably occupied those stools since the moon landing. The rest of the place was empty, so I guessed the costume contest hadn’t started yet. The way the bartender looked me over, I didn’t even bother to ask if there was a discount with my college ID. I just ordered a Shirley Temple and scurried off to a corner on the far side of the pool table. At least the quiet bar would let me study.

A few minutes later, the door opened and a group of people came in, maybe half a dozen. They were much younger than the barflies, closer to my age, but they were all guys. They were on friendly terms with the bartender, getting several bottles of beer and a rack of pool balls from him. I pulled myself back into the shadows as much as possible as they started their game.

The guys kept staring at me, despite my refusal to make eye contact. Like stupid guys were always doing, they spent as much energy insulting each other as playing pool. A guy wearing cutoff jeans missed a shot, and his friend with a blue beanie responded, “Get used to losing tonight, sucker. I’m gonna smoke your ass in pool and there’s a cheerleader right here to shoot you down. I know how much you love to strike out with cheerleaders, Nick.”

The guy in cutoffs winked at me and answered his friend, “All that changes tonight. This cheerleader can’t say ‘no.’”

I recognized that voice! This was the same Nick that I’d met with the Professor a few weeks ago. What were the odds that he’d be at the same bar I was? Hooking up with both him and the Professor was one thing, but I hoped he hadn’t gotten the idea I actually liked him. I hunched over my calculus book, trying to hide my face behind my hand. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize me.

“Hey, babe,” Nick said, shambling over to me. “I’m Nick. We met at the steak house a couple weeks back. Remember?”

I wanted to say I’ve been trying to forget, but I couldn’t quite summon up my inner bitch. I just kept my head down. If I refused to engage, he’d eventually get the hint and leave me alone.

“Look, babe, I had a good time. So did you, with all the times you came. At least, Mr. P. said you weren’t faking it.”

“That’s Professor Paulson to you, loser,” I snapped, stabbing my finger toward Nick’s stupid face. “He’s a great man and I did what I did for him, not for you. So leave me alone, asshole.”

Nick’s friends started to chuckle, but Nick was smiling like he had another trick up the sleeve of his sleeveless T-shirt. “Don’t be like that, babe. You’re the best I’ve ever had. Can you blame me for wanting another taste?”

“If I made such an impression on you, Nick, you’d be calling me by my name instead of ‘babe.’ But you can’t even remember it, can you?” I snapped, standing up. “Tell you what, Nick. You tell me my name and I’ll kiss you anywhere you want.”

Nick hung his head, defeated. “Fuck.”

I grabbed my textbook. No costume contest was worth dealing with this loser! I squeezed past Nick and found myself face to face with Blue Beanie. He looked at me with wide eyes. “Holy shit, man. I went to high school with this bitch. This is Yvonne Yates.”

Fuck. I squinted at Blue Beanie, trying to imagine what he would have looked like three years ago. “Jose Johnson?”

“Yes! You remember me! Let me buy you a drink, Yvonne.”

I did remember Jose. He’d asked me to prom the day before the dance. When I told him I already had a date with Amy Ahern, he called me a “cunt-fucking rug muncher” and spat in my face. Yeah, I remembered Jose.

“Fuck off, Jose. I wouldn’t have a drink with you if you were the last man on Earth.” It took every ounce of self-control to keep from using my superpowers to literally fly out of the bar. Or flatten him with one punch.

Nick’s voice came from very close behind me. “Ha! Your name is ‘Yvonne.’ Now you need to kiss me.”

I spun to face the entitled asshole, clutching my textbook to my chest to keep my hands from clenching into fists. “The only kiss you’re going to get is my fist in your face you piece of—”

Nick took my head in his hands. My mind went foggy and soft. His fingers found the same pressure points that Professor Patriarchy used to teach me my place. I couldn’t pull my gaze from into Nick’s bottomless eyes.

“That’s better, babe,” Nick smirked.

“Better?” I whispered.

“I told you your name, Yvonne. That means you need to do something for me.”

The fog in my brain tried to coalesce into something resembling anger, but it came out more like a pout. “You didn’t remember it. Jose told you.”

“That wasn’t the deal. You said that if I told you your name, you’d do something for me. Do you remember what you’d do?”

There was nothing in the fog remotely like lying. “Uh huh. I’d … um, I’d kiss you.”

“Right. I told you your name, Yvonne. So what are you going to do?”

For a moment, I squirmed against his grip. Although my superpowers allowed me to bend steel, I couldn’t so much as shift my head a fraction of an inch from his grasp. “I’m … uh … I’m gonna … kiss …” I puckered my lips.

Nick smiled like he’d won the lottery. “That’s not where I want my kiss, babe. Get on your knees.”

The fog swirled in my mind and my knees hit the floor. Some part of me knew this wasn’t right. “But Nick, I don’t—“

“That’s Mister Nick to you, babe.”

“But Mister Nick, I don’t—“

“No more talking, babe. Suck my cock.”

My textbook fell to the floor as my hands reached forward and unzipped his cutoffs. Mister Nick’s cock was already hard, with a drop of precum glistening on the tip. I opened my mouth and he thrust it in, his hands keeping my face in perfect position.

Mister Nick shifted his grip and my eyelids fluttered closed. There was nothing in the world but the pressure of his fingers and his hot, stiff rod fucking my face. After a time, the top of my cheerleader outfit was pulled up to reveal my tits. Other fingers groped them, rolling my nipples clumsily. I moaned around Mister Nick’s cock, drool leaking from my lips.

“Fuck!” Mister Nick shouted. “I wanna cum on your perfect tits, you stuck-up cheerleader slut!”

He pulled out of my mouth and let go of my head. Grabbing his own cock, Mister Nick spurted hot ropes of jizz all over my face and tits. The fog lingered in my brain as I tried to make sense of what was happening. My whole body felt aroused and sensitive. Each drop of his cum did everything but sizzle where it touched my skin.

“Holy fuck, man. That was the hottest thing I ever seen,” said Jose. The growing bulge in his jeans was at eye level. “When do I get a turn?”

My cold loathing of Jose helped clear a bit more fog from my mind. I staggered to my feet, Nick’s cum still dripping from my naked tits. “When … hell … freezes …”

Five fingers slid into my hair and pressed against my scalp. I froze. Mister Nick’s voice said, “Sounds like you’re disrespecting my man Jose, babe.”

My mind wasn’t foggy this time, it was steamy. I was burning up with lust, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of Jose, standing in front of me. The steam allowed no lies. “He was cruel to me, Mister Nick. In high school.”

“High school was years ago, babe,” Mister Nick said. “How do you feel about Jose right now?”

Every second, I was getting more and more horny, from my sensitive scalp to my dripping pussy. “I hate him. He turns me on. I hate that he turns me on.”

With gentle pressure, Mister Nick pulled me backwards. My ass hit the pool table. “If you ask real nicely, Jose might take out his cock and fuck you.”

At the thought of sex with Jose, my stomach clenched with disgust. But my pussy clenched with lust. I’ll give you one guess which was stronger. “Jose? Um, Jose, please?”

Jose dropped his pants. His stiff cock bobbed in the air. He grinned cruelly. “Please what, Yvonne?”

Humiliation writhed in my gut, but it didn’t stand a chance of stopping my words. “Please, Jose. Please fuck me. Please. Please stick that fat cock inside me.”

“I don’t know if I believe that you want it. You probably wanna eat out some filthy dyke.”

Alexis had taught me to be proud of who I was, but pride wouldn’t fuck my needy cunt. “No! I want you, Jose. Your cock. Please. I need it. I was too scared to be with a real man like you. Please shove your hot man-meat inside me!”

Lifting me onto the pool table, Jose spread my legs and sank his glorious shaft into my dripping pussy. I screamed, cumming the moment he entered me. Despite my loathing for him, he’d given me the best orgasm I could ever remember (not that I could remember much at that moment).

Jose came not long after, emptying his balls deep inside me. I muttered, “Thank you, Jose. I love fucking you.”

Mister Nick’s fingers made sure that my climax did little to satisfy me. Within moments, my lust was building again. Which was good because Mister Nick was ready for another go. And he had four other friends beside Jose. Plus, the two old guys and the bartender needed tending to.

By the time the guys couldn’t fuck any more, my every hole was dripping with sticky, white goo. With his last spurt in my face, Mister Nick finally released my head. I collapsed to the floor, trying to remember why the cum-stains on my three hundred dollar calculus textbook were a bad thing.

When I could finally remember how to move, I started to gather my clothes scattered around the barroom. Squidging myself into the PVC was even harder with all the drying cum plastered to my skin.

As I bent to retrieve my soiled textbook, Mister Nick’s hand grasped the base of my skull. My mind went blank, like a clean sheet of paper. “This was a hot night, babe. Same deal as last time. Don’t think about me until next Tuesday. Next time, make it a nurse costume.”

“Yes, Mister Nick,” I said, heading out the door to begin my trek of shame back to campus.

—To Be Continued…