He kissed her back for a long moment, nearly to the point where she almost had to fall backwards so she could lower her leg, but he released her just in time. Taylor wobbled unsteadily on her feet a moment, not having been sufficiently stretched for such a thing.
“So, Mr. Judge, how do you score your little slut squad?” Lauren asked.
He looked first to Evelyn. “Great moves, awesome twerk, perfect ass. I give it a 9.3.” 9.3? In competition, even aside from the slutty words, that would have been like a 4.5 at best. Evelyn winked at him suggestively.
“Kylee,” he said, turning his attention to the brightly beaming Latina. “Such great energy and intensity and enthusiasm. Still, spelling does count for something, so we’ll call it a 9.0.” Kylee didn’t seem to mind the penalty, thanking him with a long kiss of her own.
DJ looked to Taylor with scrutiny. She preened, thrusting her chest forward and her butt backward. And smiled. Gotta remember to keep smiling. “Now Taylor, you had quite a little chant there—good rhythm, very very slutty—you’re a natural at talking like a little hooker. Had practice?” The girls laughed at his joke. Laughed at her. She reddened in embarrassment and anger at the same time.
He continued. “You really put yourself out there, used that T&A of yours well. Still, I do have to penalize you for not wearing your required uniform.”
She sputtered. “What! I ditched my underwear so I could be sluttier for you! That was supposed to gain me points, not cost me!”
“Well, the contest was to be the sluttiest girl in a cheerleading uniform, not the sluttiest girl in part of a cheerleading uniform.” She wanted to snarl at him, but made herself smile, radiating understanding and apology. Lauren was such a bitch for putting her through this.
He took a long moment looking between the girls, deliberating internally, before he announced her score. “So, after the penalty, that gives you… a 9.4!” She jumped for joy—or her character did, at least—and Kylee and Evelyn hugged and congratulated her. It did actually feel a little good to win, even if the game was fake. And rigged. Damn bullshit penalties.
“So I’m on the squad?” she asked timidly, face full of feigned hope. I OWN this fucking squad, damnit!
“Hooooold on there, Trigger,” Lauren admonished. “You just won the chance to prove you’re worth testing further.”
“Oh gee golly, thanks Captain!” Taylor said. She was smiling still, if acidly. “What’s the next test?” Let’s get this over with so I can get back on the field.
“Next, we need to see if you have a real cheerleader body. You got a decent face, but what about the rest? Let’s check out the top end first.”
Taylor understood. She slid down the zipper on the side of her uniform and let the top slide down to the floor. “Damn, little slut doesn’t even wear a bra,” said Lauren. “All right squad, let’s show our judge what real cheerleader titties look like.”
Evelyn and Kylee each took off their own tops, followed by the sports bras beneath. Evelyn’s small tits rode high on her chest, tiny near-black nipples hardening immediately. Kylee’s breasts were big (though still a couple cups behind Taylor’s F’s), and had mahogany brown nipples standing out against her lighter brown skin. She giggled as DJ squeezed them; Evelyn blew a kiss as he did the same to hers.
“Now we’ll do a thorough inspection of our recruit… girls, hop to it.” Taylor held her ground, folding her arms behind her back as the girls, flanking DJ, approached her. They cupped and prodded and lifted and tapped and pinched and tweaked her like a piece of meat.
“Not bad,” Evelyn said neutrally. “A little too big for my tastes—way more than you can hold in one hand, so what’s the point.”
Kylee nodded sagely, stupidly. “I think they’re, like, super cute. And look, she tans topless! Totally no tan lines—very classy, Tay.”
DJ looked unconvinced though. “Let’s find out how sensitive they are. Girls, each of you take one and suck it.”
With a quick self-conscious look between them, they dove in, Kylee on her right tit, Evelyn on the left. Lauren moved in and got it from several angles, making sure to zoom in on each of the girl’s faces, catching Kylee sucking it in and out of her mouth like it was a big squishy popsicle, Evelyn lashing it with her tongue as if it had wronged her in another life. Taylor didn’t know what her own face looked like; she was incredibly uncomfortable having two girls sucking on her tits—on camera, no less—but it felt fucking wonderful.
Then, just as she was starting to forget her nerves and lose herself in the pleasure, DJ pulled them back. Taylor gasped as Kylee suctioned her lips around a nipple, pulling the heavy boob with her for a long second as she stood back upright. She found herself breathing hard in spite of herself; Lauren was giving her a mocking look, but she made herself just smile for the camera.
(DJ had asked her to, after all.)
“Must be pretty sensitive, if you could get her good and ready just from handling her hooters,” DJ said, stepping in close.
“Hey, Evelyn totally works there!” Kylee said, giggling. “But like, she totally has the littlest hooters here! Isn’t that funny?”
“Hilarious,” Evelyn said dryly.
DJ couldn’t easily lift Taylor’s skirt; they didn’t have those old-fashioned types that would flare out when you spun, but rather the more modern fashion, which were basically short stretchy mini-skirts with slits on either side most of the way up to their waists. Lauren knelt at her feet, aiming the camera up at Taylor’s snatch, and DJ simply tugged the garmet up until it bunched around her waist like a belt.
“No panties either—Jesus, are you auditioning to be a cheerleader or a prostitute?” Lauren said in disgust.
“Fuck you, bitch!” Taylor groused in spite of herself.
“Fuck me? Bitch, am I? Well, let me just set this to live-stream and upload the link to the whole senior class,” Lauren said, lowering the camera to tinker with buttons.
“No! No no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again!” Taylor pleaded. “Please, please don’t do that!”
DJ shrugged apathetically; he’d get to fuck her regardless, and obviously dicking Taylor Strehan would do nothing but good for his rep. Lauren seemed to consider. “All right, but that’s the final warning. And from now on, I don’t want you to just be an eager applicant—I want you to be the stereotypical cheerleader bimbo. Slutty, stupid, every inch of you made to please men.”
“What, you mean like Kylee?”
Kylee glared, though on her adorable face it looked more of a pout. “That was mean, Taylor. For that, I’m adding to the list: refer to yourself in the third person. But now your name is Taylortits.”
Taylor opened her mouth to protest, but Lauren’s finger poised imperiously over an unseen button on the phone screen was enough to cut her off and, with a herculean effort, return a smile to her face.
“Better,” Lauren said, lowering the threatening finger. “Now apologize to Kylee.”
Kylee folder her arms beneath her bare breasts expectantly. “I’m sorry I said you were a bimbo,” she said with incongruent cheeriness.
“Who’s sorry?” Evelyn asked, smirking.