The Cheerleaders Revenge
Some time ago, another author on this site published a story called "Revenge On The Head Cheerleader," which I made the mistake of reading. I can't recommend it, because it's terribly dark and full of extreme and unnecessary cruelty. So much so that I did my very best to forget it.
When I accidentally discovered that the same author had, quite ironically, written a surprisingly eloquent but even darker refutation of exactly that same sort of cruelty when described by someone else, I unexpectedly found myself inspired to do the same. Initially I was just going to indulge in some vicarious literary retaliation, but then, I had a much better idea, which neatly summed up all of my feelings on the issue.
So, here's a character who just coincidentally happens to be of the exact same species and role, and who has just coincidentally suffered the exact same attack against her person. No copyrights broken here, just her. But it's what happens afterward that really matters.
The cheerleader barged through the swinging door, tears running down her muzzle and mixing with the cold chlorinated water.
Of course she was crying. She could hardly be surprised after the unimaginable stress of such a terrifying evening. Hunted and chased, ripped bare for the crowd. Made to believe she would be drowned, then raped repeatedly. And then that horrifically cruel live studio audience thing.
What the hell was wrong with them, she thought to herself, a shiver running down her sodden muzzle. She wasn't new to cruelty and humiliation, she'd done a certain amount of it herself to others. But honestly, what the fuck? There were limits, surely. She'd done bad things, but she'd never rounded up several hundred people to cheer at them. This was just cruel, evil.
She leaned her elbow against the wall for a second, just to try and catch her breath. Between the effects of the rebreather and her tears, she just hadn't gotten enough air, and her lower belly hurt like someone had punched her repeatedly. Well what do you expect, she thought miserably to herself. Twenty members to the team, driving their members into her over and over again, once in each hole and then again for the double team, well that's fifty times or maybe sixty depending on how you count it. Only the fact that she was - well, had been - in extraordinary physical shape and had sex with so many of the people who had been chanting in triumph at watching her get raped, well, only that had kept her from being seriously hurt. All fucked up, she thought. It was surprising that the bleeding wasn't far worse than it was.
She kept staggering haltingly toward the nearest changing and bathroom she could think of. The initial burst of speed that had let her flee the amphitheatre faded with every passing moment. A glob of cum fell free between her thighs and splattered humiliatingly on the linoleum.
It had been looking to be such a good evening too, she thought. Finally a chance to go home, away from this insane school with its vicious students, who didn't seem to understand anything except how to try to hurt each other and be victimized in their turn. If she'd been cruel herself, then it had always been because they'd never given her a choice. Every day she longed to go home, back to her peaceful empty house, and today would have been even better in the knowledge that those aquatic bastards on the swim team would have got what was coming to them without her even needing to be there. The retaliation she'd dreamed up would have been fully self-inflicted, theirs to escape (or not) on their own merits. And now here she was, barely able to walk, beaten breathless, with her bruised nipples aching where they'd been pulled and pinched.
She made it nearly to the corner and had to pause to catch her breath again.
None of them could possibly be aware of the incredible act of will it had taken her not to fight back, to resist the impulse to hurt them just as much as she possibly could, if not to escape then to make her mark on their flesh before they killed her. Even with the chains wrapped around her arms and weighing her down, it would have been so easy to use the claws on her feet to trap one of them and tear, tear, tear; and the knowledge that she was only a minute or two from drowning was the sheerest edge to cling to, all that kept her from lashing out. By the time they let her crawl out, she was seeing grey and red around the corners. The courage it had taken to flee instead of killing them was something they could never know.
She swallowed more tears, then stumbled around the corner.
Finding herself face to face with a whole group of females, her mind went momentarily blank with horror. Just as she was readying herself to unsheathe the claws of her fingers and make one final, desperate attempt to take at least one of them with her (no way in hell would she ever let them do that again! they couldn't possibly let her walk away and live after what had happened!) she realized that one of them, an oddly sweet tabby cat of a girl, was repeating something to her in an attempt to get through the haze.
"We're not here to hurt you," she said again. "Don't be afraid. We bought you some towels."
She realized that they way they were all standing together, as a group, had reminded her of the mixed bag of athletic trash that had hunted her across the campus initially, tearing at her clothes. She'd thought for a second that these were all the females who hated her, that they were going to drag her off and do something infinitely more awful and deniable, after which she'd surely never see the daylight again. But she didn't really know them, they weren't especially familiar.
The assorted females moved out and surrounded her, and she cringed for a second as it bought back the memory of being caught. But the tabby cat had a towel, and worked it up gently to pad between her legs, holding it in place, making her feel cleaner somehow. The others took her by the shoulders, and the hips, and draped her arms around them to help her walk. A quite friendly looking wolfess had stack of several more towels, and distributed them around, so collectively it only took a few seconds for them to mostly dry her hair, wipe the tear-tracks carefully from her muzzle and do their best to work her fur free of cum. One of them behind her unclipped the ring that was holding her tail roped brutally high and hard to the back of her neck, and she suddenly felt like she could breathe again, as her tail flopped down to seal her brutally distended anus. She'd been tied like that so long she'd almost forgotten how much it was making her back hurt.
The tabby cat made no effort to clean her, only held the towel folded firmly in place. "We're going to have to walk a little way," she explained gently. "There's a place where we can clean you up in private. Are you okay to walk?"
The cheerleader found that she was able to nod, although it started her crying again. With all the other females helping to support her, she could walk properly again, if a little slowly and trying to keep her sore thighs apart around the thick towel. The tabby cat kept one arm around her hips and held the towel in place in a way that was strangely intimate.
None of those dreadful mean cheerleader bitches would ever help me like this, she found herself thinking. They'd just point and laugh and go looking for their latest model whatever so that they could get some good pictures to post. She found herself contemplating some deranged fantasy of revenge and feeling no shock at it - or maybe she was already in shock. The guy who made the chains, well, she'd strangle him with his own chains. The one who provided the rebreather, for a little added fun? She'd suck his breath out of his lungs and let him suffocate in her grasp, like that superstition about feral cats in the old legends. And the audiovisual fan with the camera, who kept her multiply-raped pussy in perfect focus for the fans on the overhead screen? She couldn't think of anything appropriate for him. Maybe just a nice online video involving execution by chainsaw.
Regaining focus briefly, she became aware that she didn't really know where they were going. She didn't want to talk, not even to speak. "Just a little further," reassured the kind tabby cat. "Now, don't be alarmed - but you need to know - we're the girlfriends of the swim team. Mostly."
Overtaken by a sudden panic the cheerleader wriggled desperately, but the group of females kept their grip. And carefully, too, she realized, not just roughly restraining her with their claws like their - boyfriends? They were actually trying not to hurt her!
"We're not trying to hurt you," the tabby cat assured her, as though reading her mind. "See, when our boyfriends on the team found out what you had planned - for them to do to themselves, even better - they were really angry. They wouldn't stand for anything less than the most dreadful punishment they could dream up, and so many people were full of so much hate for you that the whole thing practically pulled itself together on the spot. They were crazy with rage."
The tabby took a deep breath and continued. "We knew we couldn't actually stop them, but they are our boyfriends after all, so I made a suggestion. Well, two, actually. I'm in Behavioral Psychology and so I used what I'd learned. The first one was that we should intercept you once they were done and clean up all the evidence. They wanted to just rape you senseless and drown you, let any evidence break down overnight by adding all the available chlorine in one go. It's not like they could afford to let you go afterward. I told them I had a much better plan."
"Theirs was stupid," interjects the wolfess. "Several hundred witnesses? As a plan it sucked."
"But anyway," the tabby continued, looking a little distressed at her tawdry compromise, "what really got them was my second suggestion. Positive reinforcement! See, if they fucked you up and then just cut you loose after the single worst moment of your life, no-one would learn anything. You'd be all messed up and depressed for the rest of your life, or wake up crying every night, or maybe become an even more totally complete bitch and all empty inside! So that's what we're here for. We're going to give you some positive reinforcement instead."
Confused and still angry at the tabby cat's extraordinary confession, and the swim team and all of everyone else involved, it took the aching cheerleader a moment to become aware that they had arrived at their destination, which was a remote corner of the pool buildings she'd never had any reason to go into before. There was a lot of dust and grime in the corners, and the door in front of them was old and in poor repair, patched and painted with spray-on undercoat.
"This used to be a proper changing room for the old pool, before they built the new one," said the wolfess, proudly opening the door to reveal an interior that was surprisingly pristine and quite sparklingly clean. "It was too small and badly placed for the new one, so they turned it into a storage room and filled it full of junk, then they forgot about it completely. We found out about it and decided that it might be nice to have somewhere private to get cleaned up after swimming all those laps at all hours."
The group helped her through the door and inside, and then deposited her on a bench with the hopelessly stained towel under her brutalized butt, as the majority of the females doubled back to the door and made sure it was locked, then dragged a furniture stand artfully covered in thick dust and packed tight with assorted junk to cover the inside of the door. "No-one else has the key, and if they do, all that's there is junk!" the wolfess declared triumphantly, smearing a little dust across her forehead accidentally.
Door secured, the tabby turned around to cast a critical eye on the cheerleader. Thick cum was still dribbling out of her gaping pussy where the towel had fallen down as she sat stunned, still sobbing ever so quietly, on the bench. Her nipples were swollen hard from being worked over. She noticed she was being looked at and tried feebly to cover herself.
"First thing I think we need to do is get you clean," she decided.
The old changing room had apparently once had two showers in it, but the girlfriends of the swim team, some of whom she now recognized as being on the girls team themselves, had pulled out the central partition to create one giant luxurious expanse. Since they were probably used to seeing each other naked all the time, she doubted it made much difference to them. She'd always, somewhat unkindly now that she thought about it, written them off as a bunch of lesbians despite their acknowledged relationships with their opposite counterparts on the male team.
There was a cheap white lawn-chair in the centre of the open shower, just above the remains of the divider where the sprays met. Someone had taken a cutter to the plastic, slicing a broad curve out of the base of the seat to allow water to drain through. The front supports of the arm rests had also been cut out, probably to make it more comfortable with the existing modifications.
The tabby cat helped her up by the arm and lowered her into the seat. Someone else had already turned the sprays on, giving them time to get warm, before twisting them inwards to make the water meet just over the chair.
The cheerleader sank into the hot downpour with a sigh of relief. She didn't want to get out. She didn't want to move ever again. She wasn't aware just how dirty she'd felt, until the steaming water began to trickle down her tensed midriff and between her legs.
She kept her eyes closed for about thirty seconds and just breathed, feeling the chlorine of the pools filthy water drip out of her hair and fur. It was a strange thing to think about - you've just been thoroughly raped, a little inner voice reminded her - but she was always vain about her hair.
When she slowly allowed her eyelids to open, she was surprised to see that the other females were all undressing each other, seemingly on a quite friendly basis, even the tabby, who had taken over the nearby, free-standing bench. The tabby sniffed at the unimaginably dirty towel that had been catching the cheerleaders drippings, then grinned and threw it into a laundry bin over in the far corner. The cheerleader found herself, vastly inappropriately, starting to smile back at her until the burning sensation between her legs reminded her of what had happened again.
Which, come to think of it, made this current moment equally strange. Without front arm-rests on the chair, and with most of the seat cut away, the discomfort made her spread her legs wide, giving an entire roomful of now-nude femmes the clearest possible view of her bruised pussy and savagely opened ass. It was just like before - only now no-one was trying to hurt her, and it felt okay, if not exactly good - was this what they meant by positive reinforcement?
The wolfess, who seemed to be in charge of distribution of things, handed out small soaps of the generic kind raided from hotels and locker rooms everywhere. Once everyone had a bar, they all stepped forward into the sprays and surrounded her again, just as they had in the hallway, except for the tabby cat, just as nude, who kept her seat on the bench.
Before she even knew what was happening, the cheerleader found herself sighing as the many females washed and groomed every part of her simultaneously. There were hands all over every most intimate part of her entire body, and she wasn't distressed at all. Suddenly, everything that had happened before started to seem like some sort of bad dream, except for the bruising. She started to cry again and the hot water washed her tears away clean.
The wolfess, who had been rubbing her lower back, excused herself for a second and returned with a length of coiled nylon hose pipe, that seemed to plug into a tap somewhere further along the old copper pipes that supplied such fresh and modern hot water. "Don't be startled," said the tabby, "we're going to make sure that you're totally clean, everywhere."
The cheerleader discovered that she couldn't help but have conflicting feelings about this. She was helping them clean up all the evidence that implicated them in her own rape! But there was no way everyone involved could let her live, otherwise, and it felt so good to be clean again, and they were being so kind to her. She imagined the official examination, not being allowed to clean herself, the cold cross-examination and he-said, she-said that would otherwise certainly occur, and it made her shudder just a little. Even this was far better than she really had a right to expect.
The girlfriends of the swim team carefully spread her legs as wide as they comfortably could, then the wolfess carefully adjusted the flow of water from the pipe by crimping it between her claws a foot or two down from the top, and slid it as gently as possible up her savagely over-used vagina. The sensation of the hot water spurting up against her raw insides made her hiss, but the wolfess was careful and firm, and the slightly-corrugated braid of the hose pipe was warm and slippery. The warmth made the insides of her belly feel better.
The wolfess pulled out the hose, then soaped up her hand thoroughly and began to work lather up between the cheerleaders labial folds with her fingers. "You shouldn't be embarrassed, she's in pre-med," said the tabby cat proudly, apparently referring to the wolfess. "While she cleans you, she's going to check that no permanent damage was done. We know you took a six-month length contraceptive shot just a few weeks ago, so no worries there."
The wolfess inserted one long, soaped-up middle finger all the way down to the palm, cleaning as far as she could reach, then two fingers side-by-side, checking for tightness and swelling. The cheerleader started to feel a slight warmth that was completely distinct from the heat of the showers. What's wrong with you, she savagely chided herself, starting to get off on some wolfess you barely know as she cleans you up after her boyfriend raped you! Nothing seemed to be really badly damaged, although she whimpered slightly as the wolfess explored really deep. It appeared that the repeated, forced penetrations had left her more loose and gaping than clenched and in pain. The wolfess was eventually able to insert three fingers without too much difficulty.
That was more than could be said for her ass. Once the wolfess had finished rinsing out her pussy again, she hunkered down and then slid the hose deeply up inside the cheerleaders battered rear. The cheerleader had already known, on some level, that this was certainly coming next, but it made her start and everyone had to push her gently back down into the chair. The fact that they were all still soaping her, washing her and massaging her made it even more unreal.
Warm water bubbled up inside her ass, filling her faster than it could spill out around the edges, especially since she kept involuntarily clenching her anus. One of the females she didn't recognize rubbed her front and sides, trying to ease the discomfort as her normally taunt belly swelled with all the water accumulating inside her. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the water pressure equalized inside her, the escaping flow matching the amount spurting in.
The wolfess withdrew the hose, then quickly pushed the pads of her fingers up against her tightly bulging anus and made her wait for another agonizing thirty seconds or so. It made her blush in a place that hundreds of screaming enthusiasts cheering her rape hadn't even touched.
"Once I take away my fingers," explained the wolfess, "I want you to push it all out. Everything you possibly can. Got it?"
"Yes," she whimpered hotly. The females busy cleaning her took their time stepping out of the way, continuing to wash and stroke whilst making sure they were well clear. When the wolfess finally pulled her fingers away, the long hot spraying squirt of dirty water that forced its way out of her was absolutely extraordinary. It went everywhere and the wolfess had to hose down the bases of the stalls a little before everyone else could get near.
They rinsed her out a couple more times, but it wasn't as extreme as the first one. Once they were all certain that not a trace of anything remained, the wolfess demonstrated amazing dexterity by soaping up all four fingers and using two of them on each of her holes simultaneously, seemingly just for fun and to show off. "You have a few scratches and cuts inside you," concluded the wolfess as she finished 'cleaning' her patient. "They might bleed a little, but it's nothing really serious."
The cheerleader realized, as the wolfess's fingers moved inside her, that this was all being done in exactly the same order as when the swimming team had fucked her. First her cunt, then her ass, then both all at once. Which meant she was probably now due for another bizarre surprise.
"All done?" asked the tabby cat cheerfully. "Good, now for the fun part."
This seeming to be the key word, all of them put down their soaps and lotions, carefully making sure they were out of the way and not underfoot. Then all of them started doing various sexually enjoyable things to her at the same time.
Well, I guess I was right and they really are a bunch of lesbians, she thought helplessly as two of them kissed her at once. She wasn't really upset; this was much better than what their boyfriends had done to her, and now that she was fully cleaned up everything didn't hurt that much. Quite probably it would in the morning. But that could wait.
The wolfess took a while to get back to her, because she was cleaning and stowing the hose, but once she did she was surprisingly direct. She got right in front, closed her muzzle and that long hot tongue around one of the cheerleaders bruised and swollen nipples, and went to work.
The cheerleader closed her eyes. She couldn't think straight, not after all this. Better to just relax and let them make her feel better. They'd already seem everything she had and seemed to care for her anyway despite it all, even though she'd probably hurt all of them at least once and never even noticed.
"Now that you're all calm and feeling better," said the tabby cat, who was still leaning back on the bench and commanding the action whilst fingering herself, "we can have a little chat. You don't need to say anything, just listen to my voice. You can tell me what you think later, if you like."
The cheerleader thought about saying something now, but the wolfess moved to licking her clit, which hadn't really gotten any decent action all evening, and so she decided not to bother.
"The problem with the idea of punishing people," began the tabby, "is that it puts them far on the outside of the community. It's very satisfying, as you of all people would already know, and makes the people who've been crossed feel very happy, but it's ultimately just a form of revenge. For it to actually be effective in any way, you also need to include some form of positive reinforcement, to let the person being punished know that they are still part of the community, that people still care for them, and that because they have been punished, whatever they did is forgiven."
Tabby's either a bondage enthusiast or an intellectual, thought the cheerleader as words slipped straight into her furry ears without any actual thoughts getting in the way. Of course, the fact that this was probably exactly what the tabby wanted was completely lost on her.
"There's this concept called 'peak experience' that has been investigated in the past few years," the tabby continued (possibly the cheerleader had missed part of whatever she was saying, but it was so nice to be cared for!). "Basically, any experience is remembered as being painful, or indeed pleasurable, based on the single best or worst moment, and how it ended. Like a movie or novel. Unfortunately I may have mentioned this to my boyfriend while he was planning your evening. But luckily for you, I'm much better at these things than he is. And of course an event is not over until it's completely finished. By acting quickly before the memories start to set, so to speak, it becomes possible to change painful memories, getting rid of the long-term and self-destructive behaviours that they eventually trigger."
The cheerleader missed the next few sentences as, much to her own surprise, after everything that had happened, she actually came! The wolfess licked harder and she sank into a sort of warm water bliss, with most of the others around her masturbating themselves as well.
"What we're doing to you now is the same thing that some cults do to attract members. It's often called 'love bombing'. Of course our version of it is a little more literal. But in this case, since I'm telling you what it is that we're doing, it's less of a manipulation, more honest. We are being kind to you, when you need us the most, so that you will be kinder to others in turn. And since we are all now bound by a shared secret, if you are unhappy, come to us and we will help you. We can show you much better things to do than revenge."
The cheerleader found herself starting to lose focus entirely. Against her will, she yawned and one of the very friendly females reciprocated by sticking her tongue in her mouth.
"So essentially, all of this is really just a very elaborate theatre to make you into someone new. Well, that's about it really. And now I'm overdue to join in."
Although she was still sound asleep for the whole affair, the cheerleader finally made it home very late that night, dressed in a warm hooded bathrobe with the straps tied tight and wrapped in yet another towel, delivered in the back of a friends car. Her father, naturally, demanded to know what was going on.
"Cheerleading accident," explained her friend, a small tabby cat with oddly intelligent eyes. "She took a dreadful fall, her uniform was torn to absolute shreds. We were afraid she was badly hurt, but she insisted that she'd be okay and spent a couple of hours under a hot shower to stop from seizing up. We kept an eye on her of course. She's pretty badly bruised though, so we tied a couple of towels around her for additional support."
With some assistance from the strangely likeable tabby cat, her father managed to carry her to her own bed without her even waking up.
"She was saying some very crazy things after she fell and hit her head," said the tabby cat, sounding worried. "She kept thinking someone was attacking her for some reason. But we kept her awake until she started to feel better. It was the rest of her that got the worst of it, really."
"I'll let her sleep in tomorrow," suggested her father. "Give her some time to recover properly."
"Good idea. I really wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to give up cheerleading after this."
Several days later....
The cheerleader had returned to school, once she felt sufficiently limber to walk smoothly again. The word around campus was that she'd participated in some sort of mostly unsanctioned or questionably official cheerleading demonstration, and had taken a terrible fall. Naturally it seemed likely that she was off the squad, but no-one, it seemed, had really liked her much anyway.
Admittedly, a couple of hundred students knew that truth, but no-one was talking.
As she walked along the corridor, she passed someone she distinctly remembered as having been in the front row, and looked directly at him. He failed to return her gaze, averted his eyes, and slunk away. It seemed that most of the participants in that terrible evening had plenty of time to think about it after it was over, and all but a few extremely unsound individuals had found their consciences gnawing at them like a tiger with a bone. None of them would meet her eyes. She knew what they had done.
It seemed that no-one had been self-destructive enough, quite, to post any footage of an event that could see careers destroyed and lives ruined. The audiovisual guy she'd briefly envisaged going after with a chainsaw had left, in her locker, what she recognized as a master tape with a note attached to it in a terrified scrawl, pleading that he'd made no copies.
She took it home with her, against the time when she might actually feel strong enough to watch it. One day she might need it as proof.
Though she still ached, in all sorts of places deep inside, she eventually reached the appropriate office and dropped off a letter she'd composed. It was short, simple and to the point.
Everyone who hadn't been there, that night, was surprised the following week at how kind the formerly vicious cheerleader was being to them. Maybe, the consensus was, her fall had given her some kind of loss of confidence, or realization of her own mortality. It seemed that, having been hurt herself, the experience had made her unwilling to hurt others. But a wiser person might wonder whether that was actually a good thing.
After classes, instead of going to her usual practice, she headed over to the pool building. At the main door, she looked around, remembering how they'd tied her and dragged her inside. But the only ones there were just the wolfess and the tabby cat. Looking around to be absolutely certain that no-one else was watching, she gave them both a long and loving hug. Time to face her fears.
It was quite an unusual decision for the feline, especially given what had happened.
"I quit cheerleading. I'm going to join the girls swim team instead."