The Tradition - my first "pure" ENF story

[Fred Key]

My apologies to the few folks who were so patient and supportive with my last story, "A Small Price to Pay". Some people are able to just write and write, and the well just never seems to run dry (I'm looking at you, NeverDoubted!) I, unfortunately, hit long stretches where the idea just doesn't come together the right way. Today, something came together, so I hope you enjoy.



The Tradition
A short story by Fred Key

As Sarah Lawson stood before the assembled, slightly drunk, and wildly cheering group, she could see exactly how she had ended up in this situation. In fact, it was so obvious to her that she felt like a complete idiot for not seeing it coming until it was too late. Perhaps she had persuaded herself that, as one of the co-captains of the cheer squad, she was safe. Perhaps it was that she was a senior, and this was something that a younger, newer member of the team, who everyone else agreed not to tell, was “surprised” with by the older girls. But at this point, Sarah was absolutely clear about what had happened. It was just too late to do anything about it.

Her eyes darted around the ring of students surrounding her. There were, of course, the other cheerleaders - the youngest ones, Claire and Natalie, both sophomores (it should have been one of them!), and the juniors, and then the two other senior girls, Emma and Kate. Emma and Kate, her so-called friends, who hadn’t warned her at all. Emma, at least, had the grace to look ashamed when she met Sarah’s eyes, and she glanced quickly at her boyfriend, Adam, and then back at Sarah, as if to say What could I do? Kate, on the other hand, was laughing and cheering with the rest of the crowd, a beer in one hand, while her boyfriend Mark squeezed her tit with the arm he had draped over her shoulder, a big shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He fucking winked at her!

The boy standing next to her, a medium height future frat boy complete with floppy hair, must have been a junior, because Sarah didn’t recognize him. Probably promoted from the JV this year, and this was his welcome party. Unlike Sarah, however, he was grinning stupidly. “Beer me!” he yelled, and one of his friends threw him a can, which he popped open and immediately chugged down, then let out a huge belch that sent the crowd into a roar of approval.

“THERE’S ONLY TWO KINDS OF MEN OUT THERE,” he shouted to the crowd, which quickly grew quiet. “THERE’S THE GUYS WHO GO SKINNY DIPPING AND JUMP RIGHT INTO THE WATER, AND THE GUYS WHO WALK RIGHT DOWN THE BANK!” As the students around him whooped with glee, he whipped off his football jersey, then quickly pulled down his pants and boxers in a single swift motion, stepping out of them. “I’M A BANKWALKER, BABY! WHOOOO!”

Chants of “Justin! Justin! Justin!” burst from the rest of the football players, while the cheerleaders looked on with glee. Claire’s eyes were as big as saucers – Justin wasn’t a porn star, but he wasn’t lacking, either – and she was clearly seeing her first up-close-and-personal view of a guy’s dick. Another cheerleader, a junior named Nanette, was pretending to faint while two of her friends mock-fanned her.

Justin ran around the ring, high-fiving everyone while his cock flapped in the breeze. Sarah couldn’t believe how completely unconcerned he seemed about being naked in front of a hundred people. She couldn’t believe that he was high-fiving people and having what appeared to be the time of his life.

She couldn’t believe that she was next.

Justin had made it around the circle, and he pulled up short as he got back to Claire, who was still staring very obviously at his member. He poked the short girl in her forehead, and her eyes popped up at him, clearly embarrassed. Claire was flushing bright red, as Sarah was absolutely certain she was herself. “Hey! Eyes up here, Claire!” Justin said loudly, and a raucous wave of laughter broke through the crowd. Claire blushed even harder.

“So, you like what you see?” he asked the girl. Claire looked at him like a deer in the headlights, unsure what to say, but managed a tiny nod. “Well, all right then!” With a whoop, Justin bent and grabbed two handfuls of Claire’s tight little backside, pulling her close and stifling her sudden squeal of surprise by kissing the girl firmly on her suddenly open mouth. Claire’s eyes got big again for a moment, and then they squeezed shut and she wrapped her own arms around Justin’s neck, returning the kiss with fervor. The crowd went wild, parting for Justin as he carried Claire off out of the ring, still naked as the day he was born. More shouts of “Justin! Justin! Justin!” followed him off into the darkness.

And now Sarah was alone in the center of the ring.

The tradition was a long-standing one at Carter High, one that had been around as long as anyone could remember–which wasn’t that long, because it wasn’t something you asked your parents about, even if they had been members of the Carter football team or cheer squad. Some conversations were just too awkward. It was a part of every football season, much anticipated by everyone except the people who were “selected” to carry it on. People like Justin.

And Sarah.

The rules were simple. Every year, there was a candy sale to benefit the football and cheer programs and help pay for the uniforms and equipment. Every member of the team, football or cheer, was responsible for selling at least five boxes, and was expected to make up the difference with their own money if they failed to do so. However, at some point, someone had decided that this made it way too easy for the wealthier members of the teams to just buy their boxes and leave the hard work to the rest of the group. This led to a new set of rules agreed upon by both teams, and the tradition was born.

Each year, every member of the teams still sold their candy, but every member had to record each sale and to whom it was made. At the end of the sale, a group of four randomly chosen team members went over everyone’s lists and counted the money. Then, at a bonfire held well away from parents, the announcement was made - the names of the boy and girl who had collected the least amount in sales. Those two were then herded to the center of the group, and were required to strip naked for the crowd as punishment for their weak effort. Sales made to family members didn’t count, and neither did sales to yourself. Some people would occasionally try to sneak some extra “sales” onto their record, but anyone who was caught faking a sale would be subject to a worse punishment. One football player who had tried to pad his sales sheet was stripped, tied to the school flagpole, and shaved completely from head to toe. He had the nickname “Pinky” for the next year until he graduated and left the state for college. No cheerleader in recent memory had dared to break the rule, but there were stories that the last girl to try to fake her sales had been left naked as well - in the opposing football team’s locker room after a big game, tied spreadeagled to shower nozzles - and that pictures of her naked with every player from the other team were taken. According to the story, she had fled the school by third period Monday morning and had transferred to an unknown school by the end of the day.

Sarah didn’t believe that story, but she knew the tradition well, and had been in the ring watching another girl stripping down for two years. As a sophomore, she hadn’t been warned by her upper-class teammates that she was in danger, but had gotten lucky–that year, one of the junior girls had gotten a bad case of the flu during the candy sale, and missed a full week in bed. Her parents hadn’t understood at the time why she was fighting so hard to go back to school when she was obviously still sick, but it hadn’t done her any good - by the time she returned, she was well behind on sales, and despite her protests that it wasn’t fair, she had been dragged to the center of the ring. She had stripped off her clothes, angrily flipped off the entire crowd, grabbed the discarded items and stormed out of the circle. The following day she had quit the cheer team, and she hadn’t spoken to any of her teammates for the rest of the year.

Last year, as a junior, she had watched as Annabeth, now a junior, had turned pale when her name was called. She had just learned about the tradition, as had the other sophomore cheerleaders and football players, at the start of the bonfire, and had nearly fainted when she was escorted by her laughing friends to the center of the group. The red-headed girl had balked at first, but after being told by her teammates that she would be shunned completely if she didn’t play along, she had shed her clothing and tried her best not to die of embarrassment. It had been over in less than a minute; the tradition said that you just had to stay naked long enough to run once around the inside of the ring of onlookers. By the end of the night, Annabeth had several offers from seniors to go to the next dance, which seemed to cheer her up a little bit, and the seniors enforcing the no pictures rule meant that all anyone had to remember the event by was a memory. Annabeth had been very clear with anyone she had gone out with since then that they weren’t getting a repeat performance.

Sarah Lawson’s woes had started without her knowledge. She had no idea that this moment was the result of two things: Kate’s jealousy and Mark’s grudge. She had dated Mark for a while back in sophomore year, when she was new to the squad and he was a smaller, thinner kid playing tight end on the JV squad. The two had gone to a school dance, and out on a couple of dates, but Sarah’s hard no on anything more than kissing led to an argument, and while Sarah had technically dumped him, Mark had a new girl on his arm the next week, and the word was she was more willing to let Mark advance to second. Sarah really hadn’t given him another thought; she was focused on cheer and her grades, and was confident enough about herself that she didn’t have any worries about dating. She was pretty and popular, and pretty and popular girls don’t have trouble getting dates, even pretty and popular girls who won’t let boys get handsy.
As it turned out, however, Mark had never forgotten about Sarah. He had consoled himself after she cut him by picking up a rebound girl, and by telling himself that she was a stuck-up bitch. The rebound girl didn’t last, but his anger towards his ex lingered as she grew more and more attractive in the next two years. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl in school, but she was gorgeous, and he was sure that she was just as amazing under those outfits.

The crowd had started chanting Sarah’s name now, eagerly anticipating the second show of the evening. This was a rarity - a senior facing the public gauntlet, and one who had, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, never been beyond kissing. The football players around the circle were clapping and chanting “Take! It! Off! Take! It! Off!” Sarah saw several of her exes in the crowd, including one or two who weren’t even on the team! How did they get here? Her stomach lurched. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t do this. There was no way she could. Not in front of all these people.

The fingers that grasped the bottom of her tank top weren’t hers. They were, but they weren’t listening to her brain that was screaming “Don’t!” as loud as it could. They were listening to the part of her that knew that being naked was nothing compared to being an outcast in your senior year of high school. They tugged the tank up slowly, up over her midriff, and her breasts, and over her head, and then they dropped the tank on the ground by her feet, and now she was standing there in the little spaghetti cami that she had worn under the tank and over her bra, and she knew her fingers were going to lift off the cami next and she tried to stop them, but the chanting was so loud that she couldn’t get them to hear her. She watched with horror as they took hold of that pale pink fabric and inched it upward, and now it wasn’t the cami that was being revealed, but it was her, her skin, her body that was on display.

Sarah wasn’t ashamed of her body. She wore a bikini without hesitation during the summer, and she knew she looked good in it, but even her bikini was conservative, leaving far more covered than most of her friends. Kate had given her a hard time about that this summer after a pool party that had gotten a little crazy. A sizable number of boys had gone skinny-dipping, and several girls, Kate included, had gone topless in solidarity. Sarah had tried to excuse herself from the party, saying that she had to volunteer the next morning, but Kate had jumped out of the pool, slightly drunk, and caught her before she could get out the gate.

“Where are you going, Sarah? C’mon, the party is just getting fun!”

“I think you’re having enough fun for both of us,” Sarah replied without thinking. She regretted it immediately – Kate was touchy, and she was Sarah’s friend, and Sarah wasn’t usually judgmental. She tried to say something else, but Kate cut her off coldly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I didn’t mean anything, Kate. I just need to go, that’s all,” Sarah said, trying to dodge around her friend.

“Are you saying I’m drunk? Or just that I’m a skank because I don’t care if a few people see my boobs?” Kate had both hands firmly on her hips now, and Sarah could see that she was warming up for a fight. Kate always stood like that before she went off on someone, and Sarah had seen her friend lose her temper many times. It didn’t usually end well.

“I’m not saying either of those things, Kate, and you know it. You’re my friend. Why would I say something nasty to you? Look, I just have to get home so I can…”

“Oh, spare me, Sarah!” Kate scoffed. “You’re too big a prude to have any fun, so you just want to shit on the rest of us for enjoying ourselves! Well, you just run on off to wherever and leave us sinners to have fun!” She spun around to the pool behind her and yelled, “Hey, everybody! Sarah the Saint is leaving! You can take out the cocaine and meth!”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Kate, come on…”

“No, fuck off, Sarah! You’re supposed to be my friend, but you look at me like I’m trash, and I’m tired of it!” Kate flipped her the bird, then strode back to the pool, where a group of admiring boys welcomed her and her bountiful assets with open arms.

When Sarah had seen Kate on the next Monday, everything had been fine. Sarah had tried to apologize to her friend, but Kate had waved it off. “I was plastered,” she said, “and I said some stupid shit. I did some stupid shit, too–I’m pretty sure I let a sophomore feel me up, and if Mark found out, he’d probably pound the guy.” Kate had started dating Mark a few months back, and the two seemed to be a good match, at least as far as Sarah could see. Kate didn’t mind a little groping, and Mark was treating her well, so she was happy for her friend.

Now, as her head popped free of the cami, which joined her tank on the ground next to her, her eyes registered Kate and Mark in the crowd. Mark was staring at her and howling like a wolf, but Kate was looking at Mark staring, and then she looked at Sarah with a combination of hate and jealousy that made Sarah wonder how she could have possibly missed it before. Did she think…no, she couldn’t be that crazy, right? There’s no way she could think that she was trying to steal Mark! She KNEW Sarah didn’t want Mark. Why was she so angry?

Then Sarah knew. It wasn’t her. It was Mark. Kate thought Mark still wanted Sarah. She looked at Mark, and saw the excitement in his eyes, and she knew Kate was right.

Kate hadn’t’ planned to humiliate Sarah. At least not at first. Sarah was her friend, and she was a pretty good friend, too–she was supportive, she helped Kate out with her homework, and she was a good listener when Kate was dealing with boy drama, which was frequently the case until Mark. Kate had even asked Sarah if it was ok if she dated Mark, and Sarah had laughed and said that she had no problem with it at all, that she and Mark had barely dated, and that she hoped Kate had better luck with him. Kate even thought she meant it. Sarah was nice that way.

Everything was great for a while, but the more she and Mark spent time together, the more he was around her friends, which meant he was around Sarah. And Kate began to notice that while Mark was happy to turn his attention to her and her very nice breasts whenever she gave him the opportunity, he was always looking at Sarah when they were around her. She thought that it was just her imagination at first, but then she became more and more certain. Mark still had a thing for Sarah. Kate was the consolation prize, and Kate did not like it. Not at all.

She knew she should have confronted Mark about it, but she actually LIKED Mark, and so she persuaded herself that Mark’s interest in her friend was Sarah’s doing. She was a tease, and she was toying with Mark just because she knew she could. She had to be taught a lesson.

That afternoon, after making out with Mark, she had leaned against him on the couch at her house and said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. I’m really tired of Sarah’s attitude.”

Mark, who never needed a reason to hate on Sarah, nodded his head. “She’s a stuck-up bitch for sure. Miss Perfect Everything.”

Kate rolled over, pressing her ample chest to Mark’s and looking up at him with a wicked grin. “How’d you like to see her get taken down a notch?”

Kate’s idea had been simple. She and Mark spread the word quietly around the football team - no one should buy Sarah’s candy. Not them, not their families, not their friends. They should make sure to buy from all the other cheerleaders, but not from Sarah. At the same time, Kate would make sure the new sophomores knew about the tradition, and that they would be motivated to sell their candy to avoid the fate that would have surely befallen one of them. Kate also made sure to remind them that Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell them about the tradition, but that SHE didn’t think it was right that they get humiliated just because they were the new members of the squad. The grateful girls had agreed to support Kate immediately.

Sarah had noticed that her candy sales weren’t as high as usual, but when she mentioned it to Kate, Kate assured her that hers were down as well. “I think it’s the price or something,” she told Sarah. “People just aren’t buying this year. We just have to make sure we sell door to door to get enough to stay ahead of the sophomores. I’m pretty sure that Claire’s planning to just buy her boxes herself, anyway. She’s going to be pretty surprised come bonfire night!”

So Sarah had sold her candy in her neighborhood, not realizing that her teammates were actually selling at full speed during the school day. And the football team, knowing full well that this would be the only way that they would ever see Sarah Lawson naked, made sure to keep those sales flowing.

Sarah was now down to her bra, and despite the cold, she could feel herself flushing all over. Hoping against hope that something would happen and stop this nightmare, she made herself unbutton her jeans, then she bent and worked them down over her hips. She tried to tell herself that she was wearing her bikini, but she couldn’t deny that her jeans were coming off her legs and set aside, and when she looked down, she saw she was standing there in her underwear, and she felt the tears rising.

The underwear wasn’t anything exciting - the bra was nice enough, but was full coverage, and the panties were a simple pale green pair of hipsters. Even so, the atmosphere was electric around the circle, the guys hanging on every moment as Sarah Lawson, the good girl, was forced to reveal everything to everyone she knew.

Only a pair of panties and a bra. Two little pieces of clothing. Sarah had never been more aware of how important those two pieces of clothing were.

The shouts were rising again, “Take! It! Off! Take! It! Off!!” Both guys and girls were chanting together, gleefully watching and waiting for Sarah’s humiliation to reach its peak. She was paralyzed, unable to move, hands just hanging there. She wanted to hide behind the curtain of her shoulder-length brown hair, to make them all go away, but she knew that wasn’t happening. She knew what was coming. What had to happen.

She reached back behind her, and closed her eyes tightly. It isn’t real.

She unhooked the bra as she had a thousand times before–but this time, she wasn’t at home in the privacy of her bedroom.

She let the bra fall forward down her arms, as she had a thousand times before–but this time, it wasn’t to step into a shower.

She let the bra fall to the ground, and felt her nipples harden in the cool air. Her breasts, small and firm, sat at proud attention. She was vaguely aware of a roar in the background, but she kept her eyes closed. She was not there.

The panties were next. They slid quietly down her legs. What was that noise? She ignored it.

There was a sudden, sharp “CRACK!” that registered in Sarah’s head, and then her eyes popped wide open and her hands shot to her butt as she realized that someone had slapped her hard across both bare cheeks.

She was naked. Totally, completely naked. Standing in front of a hundred people, who were all staring at her, staring at her breasts, her sex, staring and judging and memorizing. She stood there, unable to process what had happened.

And it wasn’t over, because there was another loud crack, and her butt was on fire again, and she spun to see Kate laughing and pointing. “Get your naked butt in gear, Lawson! Once around the ring! And don’t bother covering up - there’s nothing left to hide, sweetie.”

Mark, standing behind Kate, winked at her again.
Sarah, tears in her eyes, ran around the ring. It would be over in just a moment, and in a few weeks, no one would care but Sarah. And Sarah would get on with her life, and would try to forget that the entire football team had seen her naked.

After all, it was tradition.

[mikewozere]

A great, well-written story!

[Brightsun]

Fantastic story

[Damians]

Great story, I loved reading it. I think I'll go to the forum more often instead of spending my time on games
THANKS
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