repost: this is ass-domination by high school girls–facesitting, facefarting, humiliation–does not contain penetration or oral sex.

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It was a simple plan but one that progressed to unimaginable events. How could watching a simple high school football game turn into something so insane, and a week later, into something so life-changing?

I was a freshman in high school. No, I wasn’t in the popular group. We were the poor of the poor and I was thin, not athletic, and my brown hair tussled too much out of control. I wasn’t yet shaving, didn’t know sports, generally clueless to the world, and currently had a zit on my right cheek.

But, the annual game against cross-town rival East Side Preparatory High School, or ESP, was one my cousins said I couldn’t miss. We had a decent team for a change and I needed to be there.

Yeah, like— rah, rah. I could care less. But, I didn’t have anything else to do so I went with them. I was surprised how exciting the game was in person.

My cousins saw some girls they knew and one of them was known for her blow jobs so they wanted more of her talents, some of which held rumors of blowing Mr. Pedo—or, Mr. Peterson, her algebra teacher. We agreed I would meet my cousins at the car after the game.

At halftime, the cheerleaders from ESP came to our side for what was called a good-will or good-sportsmanship cheer. They were outfitted with USC-like gear, all in white, not as many pleats in their skirts, white sweaters with ESPHS on the chest, and white panties— yes, panties. Not spankies. Panties. The school district had rules but ESPHS cheerleaders had skirts that were too short to flaunt that they wore panties while every other school’s cheerleaders wore spankies

They all had shiny and perfect hair, and their choreography was tight and in sync and more sexually suggestive than permitted by the district. They acted arrogant and most of them wore too much makeup and most of them sneered at us. They were haughty brats! To give you an idea, here is their last cheer on our side:

“I got spirit, I got sass,
You got nothin’ so
KISS …………………. MY ……………… ASS!!!

When they said “Kiss”, three of them on the left turned around, flipped their short skirts over their backs, stuck their butts out and showed “KISS” printed on their panties. When they yelled “MY”, three next to them turned around and did the same thing and their panties all said “MY”. You know the next three … they all did it and had “ASS” on their panties while the last three turned and showed “!’ which sorta made me laugh because those three exclamation points looked liked ass cracks over butt holes.

It was shocking to see 12 teenage girls all bending over and mooning us with their panties reading, “KISS KISS KISS MY MY MY ASS ASS ASS !!!”

I thought it was rude but we got the last laugh because, against all odds, our team beat ESPHS!

That made the rich kids and their parents all mad and crazy. They yelled obscenities at the officials and squealed their tires pulling away and one even busted out a window of an older, faded car. It wasn’t my cousin’s.

Speaking of cars, my cousin’s wasn’t there when I went to look for it. A different car was parked there. I couldn’t see my cousin’s car anywhere down that dark street or on the goal post streets. The only other street was the one way across the other side that went between the high school and the football field, but I couldn’t see through the metal bleachers. I walked across the football field being as careful as I could to not be noticed by angry parents. I didn’t look like I fit in with rich people and I didn’t want any problems.

I got close enough to the bleachers to see the street but my cousin’s car wasn’t there. I ambled toward the set of older wooden bleachers a long way to my left. I couldn’t see through those so I crept up to the corner of the tall structure and leaned in close to it and slowly moved my face forward to peek at the street.

My eyes never made it that far.

Less than 20 feet away stood some of those rude cheerleaders, standing in a semi-circle. I ducked back feeling terror shake my body. But … why? Come on Bryan! They’re high school girls! Be a man.

My nerves disagreed.

My brain scanned the image it had just ducked away from. They were standing under a field lamp that cast an amber hue over them. Half of them were smoking. Half were standing with their hands on their hips with one leg straight and the other in that bent-knee-with-outward-toes configuration—you know— like teenage girls get when they’re mad or jealous.

I know the honey-haired one in the middle had seen me. Our eyes had locked for a millionth of a second before I ducked back. But nothing had happened in the few seconds that followed and I was going to get the hell out of there.

YESSSS—okay! I’m afraid of high school girls. But, you don’t know. You just don’t know! That’s why I’m writing this.

Suddenly, she appeared, that honey-haired girl—with “Olivia” embroidered on her sweater. Electricity blasted my nervous system.

She could have been pretty if her face wasn’t so fierce and covered with make-up. She was about 5’3”. I’m over six-foot. She scared the hell out of me. She still does.

“You’re one of them!” she hissed. “You’re … You’re one of them!”

My head shook violently. “No. No! I’m not!”

But then, the other six had joined her and my heart was beating six times faster than it should. All of them accused me of being “one of them”—a West-Sider.

I knew cheerleaders were athletic but I never knew one could grab my shirt so fast! Olivia’s left hand had seized the top of my shirt and her seething face was close enough that I could smell nicotine.

Her voice changed from a low scream to a bothersome growl. “You … You … You fucking retard. You and you’re fucking school. Who the hell do you think you are beating us? This would have been five fucking years in a row and you come in and fuck it all up!”

The other girls pressed closer, perhaps emboldened by her lead or by my trembling.

“And now … NOW, you come over to our side to gloat? To rub it in our faces?” She tightened her grip on my shirt even more. “Maybe we should rub something in your face!” she snorted.

“No …” I pleaded. “No … I was …” I almost couldn’t speak. “ … looking for my cousin’s car.”

“On our side? You fucking liar! It’s our street. Your kind don’t belong on it and they all know it.” She studied my face. Hers became tighter. “You came here to gloat. AD-fucking-MIT IT!” she demanded.

I stuttered and shook my head but the others were beginning to echo her assertions and moving closer. What did they want with me? Would they summons their boyfriends to beat me up? Hell, those cheerleaders could beat me up.

“I’m sick of this shit,” she proclaimed. “You fuckers did this last Spring in track.” She yanked my shirt even harder and my nose was near hers. “SICK OF IT! You can’t come to this side of town and beat us. Fucking shit faces!” She relaxed—slightly.

Then, her head turned briefly to the others “Know what I think?” she asked. “This time we follow through.”

“Yessss!” echoed the others.

“Finally do what we’ve said we would do if it happened again. Well, it fucking happened again and this time, we’re going to do something about it! Give him what he deserves! Make an example of him for what they ALL fucking deserve!” Her eyes focused on mine more intently. “Looks like this just isn’t your lucky day, now is it?”

She jumped at me and both of her arms clutched my right elbow. “C’mon girls! Get him!” They pounced. All six of them, plus Olivia. Some secured my other elbow while others twisted my wrists until they hurt. Two began pushing my body and they were moving me under the bleachers. It wasn’t walled out of sight from passersby, but they didn’t seem to care.

There was enough street light to see that the wood was old and supports stemmed in complex angles all the way to the top. The ground was dry and solid dirt.

I struggled but not really because I thought it would only make them more angry. I only struggled enough so that later, I would be able to say, “Well, I tried.”

“You girls know exactly what this is about.” She laughed, then yelled, “Get him down!”

Their attack was instant. I was no match for seven high school girls. Hell, I wasn’t a match for a 5’3” honey-haired 15 year old.

They clutched me and pushed me and before I could rally any kind of counter, I was sitting on the ground. One cheerleader pounced on my shins and locked my legs to the hard dirt. Two others began bulldozing into my chest as if to push my upper body down flat.

Olivia was behind me and her fingers twisted into my leafy hair and yanked the resolve out of me and I fell back to the ground. A slim brunette with “Carmen” as her moniker instantly pounced on my stomach, facing my face and giving me a direct and closeup view of her teenage girlhood encased in fine cotton. My cousins would have KILLED to be in my place, but trust me, you don’t ever want to look between a high school girl’s legs when you’re on your back and five other teenage girls are sitting on you and getting ready to do who-knew-what.

There were girls sitting on my legs, stomach, arms… all over. No body in their right mind would have traded places with me.

Olivia was standing. She moved toward me and placed her feet on either side of my head, straddling my upturned face. And that’s another thing that is over-glamorized. Having a 15 year old girl straddle your face and you’re looking straight up her skirt … and I know how you romanticize seeing her panties. But it’s not like that when you have a cheerleader and you know her legs are strong and you see those powerful thighs and standing above you makes her look like a giantess. That, my friend, will scare the sperm right out of your nads. I just hope –- I just hope!— for your sake that you never have to see that!

She looked down on me, literally I suppose, with a menacing smirk. Then, she suddenly dropped down directly on my chest. She moved back until she was sitting on my neck! It hurt! Was she going to kill me? I could scarcely breathe. The back of her cheerleader skirt was partially resting on my chin. I thought I was going to die and I wondered how they would write my epitaph and if they would say that I choked on a cheerleader’s ass.

“Now … THIS is what you deserve you fucking West-sider!”

And with that, she rose and suddenly dropped hard, right on my face. Right on my face! Her butt—right in my face! It was humiliating! My head hurt. Her aim had been perfect. How do I know? Well, because my nose was wedged right up the very center of her “ass pocket”.

The other girls laughed. I was crazed. It was … unthinkable! My face—the horror of horrors—My face was in a 15 year old girl’s butt. She wiggled and laughed. She ground her warm, plush, high school butt right in my face!

“Take that, you ‘tard! Your face is SOOOO going to stink! You like that, butt-face?!?” she taunted. “It’s what you fucking deserve! It’s where you belong, you and your whole fucking asswipe school!”

I heard the voice of a girl standing near my head and I recognized it as the strawberry blond whose sweater had the name “Jana”. She was memorable because she had a pretty face that was contradicted by very hard eyes. When Olivia raised to give me air, I saw Jana standing and looking down and smoking the last of a cigarette.

Olivia finally rose. My face felt hot from being melded to her ass. Before I could get my senses, Carmen, the very pretty and innocent-appearing brunette, had slowly slid forward to sit on my chest while someone else took her place on my stomach. Carmen was so pretty with naturally tanned skin, slender body, shiny black hair, little make-up, and a beautiful and friendly smile. She just didn’t look like she belonged with the others. She seemed like Miss Wholesome USA.

She was looking down at me with her sweet face and smile. She slid a little more forward and her eyes began to take on a rascal-like glint. She moved so smoothly as she lifted and turned around and then sat on my chest again, this time facing my feet. Her movements were suave and self-assured and gracious and I was sure she was not the kind of girl who would ever stick her butt in someone’s face. No way.

She fluffed the back of her skirt and I noticed her panties were like Olivia’s. I wondered if they were all alike and had somehow talked the school district into buying them. She looked back at me and again and I was dumbfounded. I knew from her expression that she was going to do it.

But now, it seemed so different. She was so different. I no longer wanted to struggle. I wanted it—with her, not the nasty others. I pointed my face straight up. I wanted her to know that I wanted her to do it. She lifted and arranged herself over me and then she lowered and my nose went right up where it felt like it belonged. She nestled down and slowly wiggled as if to form a tight, buttface union.

Although she was lighter than Olivia, when a girl gets your nose in the pocket of her rear-end, you’re stuck. There was a nice distraction with Carmen. With her smaller ass and with her sometimes lifting and adjusting her position, I could see enough of her panties to know that she was one who had the word “KISS” on hers. I know this sounds weird, but I liked her so much that, yes, I would have kissed her ass if she had told me to.

After a while, she got off and Jana instantly plopped her thick butt down. She ground it down hard and looked over her shoulder and said, “This is what all of you West-Siders get … my BUTT right in your FACE!” She rolled her ass on my nose and pushed down harder and sneered at me and she relished every second.

Olivia dug the wallet out of my pocket. “Bryan, ‘eh?” she said. “Yeah, Bryan Buttface!” she laughed. She read all of my information aloud and said I wouldn’t be getting back my student I.D. card right away.

The other girls all took turns. One after another, seven high school cheerleaders in skirts and thin panties took turns sitting on my face and triumphing that they were rich girls smothering a West-Sider with their asses and proving their preeminence.

And each time they exalted themselves, they danced and clapped and cheered and jeered. I swear, adults were still passing by and saw it all but did nothing to stop it or voice any kind of disapproval.

The seventh girl looked a bit like a misguided emo girl … a rich girl trying to look emo but not really getting it. Her name was Ellie and she had short dark hair with rainbow streaks, a lip ring and a nose stud. She was actually a good facesitter though, I must say. She didn’t do it hard but more like a sensual rolling of her hips. I believed she had probably done quite a bit of facesitting.

I would say each girl did it for 4-5 minutes before they started all over from the beginning. Fourteen times—high school girls grinding their asses on my nose.

When all seven of them had sat twice, Olivia was back for her third. She first sat on my chest and was whispering to the other girls who all giggled. Then, she looked back at me.

“I’ve been waiting for this!” she scowled. “You’re really going to get it. Right in your fucking face!”

She backed up and lowered down and I breathed at the wrong time and wound up inhaling a big dose of Olivia-ass which practically made me pass out. I felt the plop and my face was instantly buried deep in the crack of her teenage tush.

The other girls became almost quiet. They were leaning closer. What the hell was happening?

“Ready?” Olivia asked the others. They clapped and Carmen asked, “Are you really …”

“Shut up!” Olivia demanded. “Of course I am!”

Stillness prevailed and then her back arched which spread her butt cheeks a little and she pressed her soft cheeks hard to my face and then …

brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-fffffffffffffffffffft (sorry, farts are hard to replicate in written form)

She … She farted!! Right in my face!

My entire body quaked. Her gas spread through her panties like a warm musk and warmed all of my skin and I knew that just that one gaseous eruption would stink my my face up for a long time after.

My body twisted and I felt ill. The other girls put more weight on my body to keep me down and Olivia’s ass pushed back solidly against my cheeks and when everyone was quiet, she let another fart—a big, long, nasty, noisy fart! The girls laughed. I heard laughter from two very young voices that seemed to be further away, perhaps on the street.

Olivia leaned forward and again pushed her butt back to make solid contact and then she farted and she farted and she farted and she just kept letting them rip all over my face while I became dizzy and nearly passed out. Every one of those high school girls laughed and clapped.

It was humiliating! A 15 year old girl was farting in my face while other high school girls were laughing! At me! They called me “fartface” and “buttface” and other names and they kept encouraging Olivia to keep doing it.

Her panties were pressed to my nostrils and they trapped the smell and each time she passed gas, it spread with warmth and if I wanted to breathe air, I had to breathe her farts through her panties whenever she lifted enough to free my nose.

“Give me one of those!” Jana demanded and I wandered what she meant. When Olivia lifted to reach toward Jana, I saw her give a package of Ricola cough drops and the strawberry blond popped three into her mouth.

A couple of minutes later, Olivia got up and Jana plopped her full rear-end down on me.

“I’m so fucking going to waste your face!” she hissed as she looked at me over her shoulder. She squirmed for a few seconds then screamed for the others to shut up, then said, “I’m ready! Ready!!”

What emerged was the longest, full fart imaginable. It was air, stinky air, and a lot of it and it just kept putrefying my senses. To think that any high school girl could emit a ten-second-long fart was astounding. It literally stifled my entire existence — not so much the smell because that was somewhat cut off by her weight on my nose — but just having that much gas permeate me for so long of a time was horrendous. My body tried again to struggle and my head to twist to the side, but I couldn’t get away and I spent the next ten minutes with a 16 year old cheerleader fluttering my face with long and nasty farts. One was so full of gusto and volume that it cut off the sound of the other girls laughing.

Olivia dropped to her knees by my head and when Jana lifted to give me air, Olivia growled, “Tell your fucking people what we did, right in your face! Tell them that’s what we’re going to do to ALL of them if we catch on the rich side! Understand!”

Before I could respond, Jana’s bouncing butt jammed down and instantly began a long, streaming, full, bassy, eruption that went through her panties and all of the way to my ears! I had no idea high school girls could fart for 20 minutes almost non-stop, but that’s what Jana did. For 20 minutes, she farted and farted and farted right in my face! Was Ricola really that potent?

The other girls seemed fascinated by what Olivia and Jana were doing especially that it showed very clearly that East Side girls ruled. They were fascinated with how disgusting yet satisfying it was to show their superiority by farting all over the face of an inferior West Side high school boy.

Finally, Jana looked at me. “I’m done.”

She stood. She spread her hands over her skirt to make sure it was in order. In any other situation, I would have laughed with the irony that she wanted to appear all prim and proper after she had just spent a half-hour farting in a younger boy’s face.

When no one moved for several seconds, I felt relief that it was finally over. Four girls were still sitting on my body but they were starting to lift off of me.

Olivia said, “Well, I guess we’re done here. We’ve done our nasty business. I feel a fucking lot better now that we got even with them.”

While the other girls were nearly off of me, Carmen didn’t get up. She was sitting on my stomach. She raised her hand toward Olivia with her index finger pointing upward as if to say “Wait”.

“Carmen … what?” Olivia asked.

The dark-haired beauty had a pleasant and pretty smile. Her index finger began to turn until it was pointing at her mouth. She opened her mouth.

Ricola!

Fuck! She was sucking on a Ricola?

No! It couldn’t be! She was such a normal girl. The all-American sweetheart kind. The pretty smile and the fresh face. The kind who was probably still a virgin. A nice girl. A popular sophomore. No way! It couldn’t be!

Olivia leaped with joy and the other girls clapped and also expressed surprise that a girl like Carmen actually wanted to fart in someone’s face.

While the others returned to sit on my body, Carmen moved to my chest and turned her back to me. Two pleats on the back of her skirt were near my chin. She looked at me. Her smile was that of a homecoming queen—kind and soft, but with that rascal glint beginning to show.

She moved back another inch or so and I felt her tailbone against my chin. She was slender but it was then that I realized more than ever that even a slender high school girl has a butt bigger than my face and it possesses powers that should be feared.

She lifted again and hovered over my head. She looked me right in the eyes with an expression that was warm, as if I had just given her flowers. With that perfect smile and uncommon grace, she raised her hand and twiddled her fingers at me as if to say “good-bye” and too bad for me.

Then, she moved back and lowered down and she sat right on my nose and settled in. I felt her body grip and then relax and then … She actually did it! That sweet, innocent looking girl actually farted in my face! I just … could not … believe it! And, she just kept doing it, over and over and over and over for a full half hour. She spread her gas in smoldering swells that spread all across my nose and saturated my cheeks and tickled my chin and forehead. Her skirt was over me so my entire world was her ass and the unending continuum of her farting and farting and farting.

A nice girl! A sweet girl! No one would imagine!

“One last big one!” she announced. The last one was hot and growling so much that her butt cheeks jiggled. It lasted a long time and when she was finally done, she exhaled, “AHHHhhhhhhh!”

I was literally light-headed. They all got off of me. I struggled to get up.

“Our neighbor girl farts all the time,” Ellie said. “I should have her and her classmates fart in his face.”

“The more the merrier,” Jana said. “I mean, if she goes to our high school.”

Ellie answered, “No. She goes to East Side Elementary.”

Olivia came close, within inches. She breathed in. “Ohhhhhh shit! You smell like a sewer! Get the fuck out of here!” She put her finger in front of my nose and told me to not wash my face until tomorrow and she would know and if I disobeyed and they would do it again, only worse.

I asked about my I.D. She said she would have someone give it to me next Friday at the Shake Shack which was on the neutral street that separated the East Side from the West Side.

I stumbled home. I didn’t dare wash my face. I was worried about what it would take to get my I.D. back. I fell asleep smelling the farts of teenage girls.

So, there is your warning for all of you have wanted high school girls to sit on your face. Take it from me, you have no idea how nasty high school girls can be!

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