How Not to Get Your Picture in the High School Paper
by brooksie brooksie@pacificcoast.net
Quarterback messes with bitchy cheerleader...with disastrous results!





     It already qualified as a bad day for Jake Landers, but it was
about to get even worse. Trudging off the field after yet another
drubbing of the team he quarterbacked...Falconcrest High, Jake headed
for the locker room. He was distracted, wondering for how long, and in
how many ways the coach was going to tell him how badly he'd played. So
lost in his own tortuous thoughts was he, that Jake didn't even see the
pretty, young cheerleader in front of him until he bumped into her.

"Hey, watch where you're going," she protested. "Man, you're just as
uncoordinated off the field as you are on it."

It was Cathy West, not Jake's favourite of the Falconcrest cheerleaders.
In fact, it was safe to say they just plain didn't like one another.
Jake was about to apologize but changed his mind and levelled an insult
in return.

"Well I didn't see much support coming from you...some cheerleaders. You
stood around like you were hanging out at the mall for most of the
game."

"Yeah, well maybe you should have given us something to cheer about."

"You're not supposed to cheer for us only when we're winning. Are you
that dense?"

"And you're not supposed to blow every game before the first quarter is
even over. You ever think we might get tired of cheering for a bunch of
stupid losers?"

That was it, he'd had all the lip he was going to take from this bitch.
It had been going on all year and the year before that. Jake snapped
and, not thinking at all, reached out to grab her. In a day filled with
mistakes, this was going to turn out to be the biggest.

Jake got hold of her by her school sweater and pulled her towards him.
He was intending to hold her, get right in her face and tell her exactly
what he thought of her and her bitchy attitude. But he didn't get that
far. No sooner did he start to bunch up her sweater than she jammed her
thumb upward, into his partially closed fist. She wrapped her own
fingers around his thumb and bent it backwards, causing the young man to
cry out in pain. With studied technique, Cathy used her grip to bring
Jake's arm around, bent at the elbow, thumb pointing downward. She put
the football player's arm into a lock, pressuring it at the elbow joint
and took him right down to one knee with it. Now it was Cathy who was in
his face, as yelled at him, asking "how it felt". Jake had to give with
the pressure on his arm and dropped to both knees. Cathy adjusted her
position, moving from parallel to his right shoulder to just behind him
slightly. This caused him to him have to lean forward, precariously off
balance. Just before sending him onto his stomach with a violent yank on
his trapped right arm, Cathy slipped one leg underneath him. As Jake
fell forward, she put her other leg over his back and locked her ankles
together. She converted her lock into a sort of hammer lock hold by
holding his wrist in place with her left hand and threading her right
hand underneath his elbow and around overtook of his wrist. This freed
up her left hand, which she used to swat him on the behind.

"Bad, bad boy! Don't you know that violence never solves anything?
Especially when you too big a PUSSY to pull it off!"

When Cathy began spanking him, Jake began screaming at her to stop it
and struggled with all his might to try and get loose. The fiery redhead
stopped her paddling and concentrated her effort on keeping his arm
pinned. The muscular high school boy continued to squirm and try to
twist out of her hold. Moving her legs up a little higher on his body,
the cheerleader flexed them and squeezed Jake for all she was worth. The
effect was instant and devastating. He let out an "oomph" sound and his
yells turned immediately to moaning.

Cathy West had the best legs in Falconcrest, probably the best legs in
any of the local schools. They were long and shapely, but hard - like
they've been cast in bronze. Her thighs billowed muscle when she walked,
jumped or move in any way and her calve muscles were big and tapered,
and split right down the middle. Shapely didn't even begin to describe
her legs and she was the envy of every girl who saw them. Walking down
the street, it wasn't at all unusual for guys to turn around as she
passed and start walking back in the direction they'd come from so they
could watch those muscles flex and she moved with her long, confident
strides. Cathy was also pretty sure she'd created at least a couple of
minor fender-benders by causing drivers to watch her legs instead of the
road. She loved going out in short skirts, tiny spandex
shorts...anything to show them off. And now, those pretty, powerful,
perfect legs were wrapped around the chest of Jake Landers and were
crushing him without mercy.

Jake couldn't speak at all. If he could, he would have cried out his
submission but instead, the only signal he could give was to slap his
free hand on the ground. Cathy kept squeezing. She could keep it up for
hours if she liked. Deciding to see what the beaten boy had to say, she
let up and allowed him his voice.

"Please, no more. You're crushing my ribs. I can't breath...come on, let
me up."

"Let you up?" she giggled, "Why, are you begging?"

Several of the other Falconcrest cheerleaders who'd been watching the
slaughter began laughing at the way she was handling him...like a little
boy who was being punished. Between the little paddling she'd given him
and the patronizing tone of voice she was using, she'd not only bested
him in wrestling, but was humiliating him to boot. Jake gave no answer
to her question, but instead of squeezing her powerful thighs again,
Cathy used both her hands to wrench his arm up behind his back. She had
his fingertips right up at the back of his broad shoulder.

"Owww," Jake screamed, in agony, "Don't...please, that's my throwing
arm. You'll break it, please. Stop!"

"Don't break my arm, don't crush my ribs...well gee, what can I do?"

By now, a bigger crowd had started to gather round. From out of that
crowd came a deep, solemn voice.

"You could let him go, that's what you can do."

It was Jake's coach! Cathy looked up and saw the cold fury in his eyes.
Her natural tendency towards defiance melted away and she said nothing
in reply.
To Jake, she leaned down and whispered "You're getting away easy this
time, pussy boy. Next time I'll make sure we don't get caught."

Just as she was about to release him, Susan West, the school paper's
photographer and Cathy's older sister, rushed up.

"Cathy...wait!" she cried.

She looked up and saw her pointing the lens at her. Letting go of Jake's
arm, she took him by the hair and pulled his head up.

"Smile for the camera," she said cruelly, as she squeezed her legs
together as hard as she could.

While Jake grimaced in pain, and tried not to cry for mercy, Cathy West
flexed her arm like the victor she was.  The coach pushed through the
small crowd and pulled Cathy off of Jake, but it was too late. Susan had
the picture!

It was featured on the front page of the next edition of the Falconcrest
High Gazette. You couldn't really see her biceps underneath the sweater,
but the photograph clearly showed the pained look on Jake Landers' face
and the bulging, muscular thighs of the young teenager who'd bested him
so easily.