Sommer Ray records her Jerk-Off Instruction video. Jake and Ava share a moment. Kassie plans a party for the school's nerds.
Hours later, Sommer Ray paced nervously around the bedroom, where a camera awaited to record the jerk-off instruction video. Sommer has been dreading this moment ever since receiving another email from the unknown blackmailer. She flicked the record button and approached the bed. She sat dressed in only a black bra and panties, Sommer started the show.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed record on the camera. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fine legs crossed, offering the camera a clear view of her cleavage. Leaning in, her wavy light brown hair fell and framed her pretty face.
“Hi, I'm Sommer Ray,” she began, her voice a forced purr. “And today, I'm going to show you boys just how to get off to me and my sexy body.”
Her fingers traced the edge of her bra, playing with the lace before she reached back and unclipped it, letting her breasts spill out. She watched the camera as if it were a lover, her eyes full of a fake desire. “Imagine you are in my bedroom,” she whispered, her voice husky. “Imagine my hands on your cock, my slutty little mouth wrapped around it.”
With a sultry smile, Sommer began to play with her nipples, rolling them between her thumb and forefinger. Her eyes closed briefly as she bit her bottom lip, her breathing growing more ragged.
She knew she had to sell it.
“Now, take your cock in your hand,” Sommer instructed, her husky voice dropping an octave. She watched as the camera captured every detail of her performance. She leaned back, her legs parting slightly to give a peek at her black lace panties. “Imagine it's me, stroking you, making you hard.”
“Fuck yeah, look at your dick getting hard for me, good boy.” Sommer praised and smiled eagerly.
Her hand slid down her stomach, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric to touch herself. She felt the heat building between her legs, but it was a response to the situation's intensity, not to the very humiliating act she was forced to perform. She had to keep going, satisfying sick whims of the evil blackmailer.
“Stroke it faster,” she whispered, her eyes opening to stare directly into the lens. “Imagine my wet pussy, waiting for you.”
Sommer's hand moved quicker, her breaths becoming shallower. She had to keep it up, to make sure the video was convincing enough. The thought of someone watching this, made her stomach feel ill.
Her other hand reached down to slide her panties to the side, revealing the already soaping wet folds of a pussy. She spread her legs wider, giving the camera a full view of her shaved mound. “Imagine! My tongue,” she murmured, her voice thick with loathing. “Licking your hard cock, up and down.”
Her finger slid into her, the sensation almost unbearable as she watched her own performance.
The camera was cold, unforgiving, capturing every sound and movement. She knew this was just the beginning. The blackmailer would demand more, push her further and further, until she was a submissive little OnlyFans slut.
“Fuck, yes,” she moaned, the sound forced from her throat. “Do it, baby. Make yourself cum for me.” The lie felt like a knife twisting in her gut. But she had to play along. For Amanda. For Kassie. For their family.
Her hand moved faster, her hips rising to meet her touch. “Cum for me,” she begged, her voice now a sham. “Come all over my fucking face.”
And with that final command, she felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she had to pretend to climax for the camera, her body responding despite her mind's screaming protests. The video went on for a few more moments, Sommer's hand still moving as she feigned pleasure, before she finally reached over to hit stop.
The room was silent except for her harsh breaths. She felt violated, used, and she wanted to scream.
But instead, she gathered her strength and stood, walking over to the computer. She edited and then uploaded the video to OnlyFans, her heart racing out of control.
As she sent the link, she hoped that this would be enough, that the blackmailer would finally leave them alone. But deep down, she knew it was just the tip of the iceberg with this monster.
Sommer took a deep breath and walked out of the room, her shoulders squared. She would not let this break her. She was Sommer Ray, and she had faced down challenges before. This was just one more battle to be won.
But in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered, "What if we can't win this time?" And the fear that had been simmering just beneath the surface bubbled up, threatening to consume her.
The house was quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sommer knew that Amanda would be home soon, and she had to act normal. As if she hadn't just sold a piece of her soul for their relationship not to end.
When Amanda walked in, Sommer forced a smile to her lips. “How was your workout?” she asked, her voice light, friendly, and cheerful.
Amanda's eyes searched hers, as if looking for any sign of what had happened. “It was fine,” she said, her voice tight. “Just another day.” Amanda wiped her own lips in a subconscious gesture.
Hidden in his room, Jake had the volume on his computer turned down low, his eyes glued to the screen as he watched Sommer's uploaded and forced performance. His own pudgy hand stroked his small, unimpressive cock as he took in the sight of her perfect body. The video was a masterstroke of blackmail, and he knew it.
But his sick fantasy was interrupted by the sound of raised voices. He recognized the unmistakable tones of his mother and Sommer arguing, OnlyFans being the subject.
“I can't believe you posted that, what's gotten into you?! Delete that awful video, now, Sommer!”
The sound of Amanda's furious voice echoed through the hallways, and Jake's heart raced. He quickly paused the video and scurried to the door, pressing his ear to the wood.
“How could you do this to us?!” Amanda's voice was filled with rage. “What were you thinking?”
Sommer's voice was low and controlled. “It's just a video, babe. It's no big deal.”
But Amanda was not having it. “A video of you faking an orgasm for a bunch of creeps? That's not just a video, it's exploitation!”
Sommer took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort to maintain her cool. “Look, Amanda,” she began, her voice measured. “I know it's not ideal, but it's only for a little while. And the money... the money is insane.”
Amanda's eyes narrowed. “That's not the point,” she spat. “It's about respect and dignity. What if our business partners see this? Our reputation will be ruined!”
Sommer rolled her eyes, her frustration barely concealed. “They probably already sub to me there.”
A couple of days later, Jake was sitting with Ava, practicing math at school.
“You know, you're really starting to get this,” Ava said with a gentle smile, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth as she leaned over to help him with a particularly tricky problem.
Jake felt his cheeks heat up. “Thanks,” he mumbled, trying to focus on the numbers in front of him rather than the soft swell of her breasts.
It had gotten late by the time they wrapped things up—they had completely lost track of time. Jake glanced at the clock and realized he had missed the last bus home. With a sigh, he started gathering his things, unsure of what to do next.
“Looks like I’m stuck,” he said, half-joking, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Ava noticed the concern on his face. “Do you want a ride?” she offered. “It’s no trouble—I don’t mind driving you.”
Jake hesitated for a moment, then smiled gratefully. “Are you sure? It’s a bit out of the way.”
Ava shook her head. “Not really. Besides, it’s better than letting you wander around at night.”
“Thanks, Ava. I owe you one,” Jake said as they headed out together, the quiet hum of the night settling around them.
The drive to his house was filled with silly small talk, Jake’s mind racing with thoughts of the blackmail and his family’s secrets. He couldn’t help but steal glances at Ava’s curvy figure in the dim light of the car.
As they pulled out onto the road, Ava’s phone buzzed in the cup holder. She glanced at the screen and sighed before answering.
“Hey,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.
Jake sat quietly, watching the headlights trace lines on the pavement as Ava listened. Her expression shifted—first concern, then frustration.
“Seriously?” she said after a pause. “You said you’d double-check that... Okay. Fine. I’ll swing by.”
She ended the call with a tight sigh and drummed her fingers briefly on the steering wheel.
“Sorry about that,” she said, glancing over at Jake. “We need to make a quick stop.”
“No problem,” Jake said, curious but not wanting to pry.
Ava explained, “My husband was showing one of the houses he’s selling earlier today, and he just realized he might’ve left the back door unlocked after the tour. Or worse—one of the clients did.”
Jake raised his eyebrows. “Yikes.”
“Yeah,” Ava muttered. “Last thing we need is a raccoon—or a squatter—making themselves at home.”
They both chuckled lightly, the tension easing a little as the car sped through the quiet streets.
Ava was dressed in a way that seemed to perfectly blend comfort with a hint of seductive allure. She wore a snug-fitting blue sweater that accentuated her ample cleavage, which Jake had been trying not to ogle the whole time. The fabric clung to her curves, hinting at the soft flesh beneath.
Her black yoga pants hugged her round ass, showcasing the kind of voluptuousness that could make any man's head spin. The material stretched tightly over her thighs, revealing the subtle outline of her panties with each shift of her body. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face.
As they approached the house, Jake could feel his heart racing. He had never been this close to Ava outside of school, and the thought of seeing her in a more personal setting made his palms sweat.
The house was a typical suburban dream—two stories, a well-kept lawn, and a porch that looked like it belonged on a postcard.
“Come in with me,” she said as she parked the car. “It’ll just take a second to make sure everything’s okay back there. You can wait in the living room if you want.”
Jake nodded, his curiosity piqued. He had never been inside a house for sale before, let alone with a woman he had been fantasizing about. The place smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, the kind that hinted at a life once lived there but now long gone. The lights were on, casting a warm glow through the open blinds. The living room was tastefully decorated with neutral tones and strategically placed furniture. It looked like a showroom rather than a home.
As Ava disappeared into the back, he heard her footsteps echo through the hallway. Suddenly, a piercing scream ripped through the silence, making Jake jump. His heart racing, he bolted towards the sound, his mind conjuring up all sorts of horrors. Was she being attacked? Had she found something terrible?
When he reached the room, the sight that greeted him was far from what he expected. Ava had indeed found something—but it was far from terrifying. She had stumbled in the dark, tripping over a chair that had been carelessly left in the hallway. She was sprawled on the floor, her sweater riding up to expose her midriff, and her pants stretched tight across her thighs.
“Ow, my leg,” Ava complained as Jake rushed to her side. He offered his hand, his heart pounding in his chest. She took it, and with a grimace, she allowed him to help her stand. She winced as she put weight on her ankle.
“Looks like we’re both stuck here for a bit,” she said with a forced laugh, leaning heavily on him. “At least the door was locked, right?”
They made their way back to the living room, Ava’s ankle throbbing with every step. She collapsed onto the couch with a grateful sigh, her cheeks flushed from the pain and embarrassment.
“You okay?” Jake asked, his voice full of concern as he sat next to her.
Ava managed a smile despite the pain. “Just a sprain, I think. Nothing too serious.” She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the shock of the fall. “But thanks for your help.”
They sat together on the plush couch, the quiet of the empty house wrapping around them like a blanket.
“So, you know how I said I was into fitness?” Ava began, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone as she leaned in slightly.
Jake nodded, his eyes flicking over her form. “Yeah, obviously. I’ve seen the way you move around the school. You’ve got a pretty good handle on it, I’d say.”
Ava chuckled. “Well, it’s more than just a hobby. It’s a lifestyle, really. And it’s been paying off—I’ve been getting some pretty big opportunities lately.”
“Oh, really?” Jake leaned in, his curiosity piqued.
“Yeah, I’ve been getting some offers to model for fitness brands, maybe even start my own line of workout gear. It’s all still in the works, but it’s pretty exciting.”
Jake couldn’t believe his ears. Ava, the woman he had been lusting over for so long, was not just a math teacher but a potential fitness model? It was like a dream come true.
The silence between them grew heavier, filled with unspoken desires and the sound of their breathing. Ava’s hand lay on her knee, and Jake found his eyes drawn to it, his own hand inching closer.
Without thinking, he placed his hand over hers, the warmth of her skin sending a jolt through him. She looked up, surprise flashing in her eyes, but she didn’t pull away.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ava said abruptly, standing up.
The suddenness of her words snapped Jake out of his daze, and he nodded, eager to leave the tension behind. He helped her to her feet, his arm around her waist as they hobbled to the car. The cool night air hit him as they stepped outside, the stars winking in the clear California sky.
The drive home was quieter. Jake felt a strange mix of fear and excitement, his mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen next. He had never felt this close to Ava, he just had to claim her.
As they pulled into the driveway, the house loomed ahead, a bastion of secrets and tension. Kassie was standing outside, her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl etched into her perfect features.
Kassie called out loudly.
“Sommer and Mom were arguing again. This time it was about OnlyFans. Amanda found out that Sommer posted something crazy and fucked up.”
She shook her head and sighed. "It got pretty loud!"
“I guess this is goodbye,” Ava whispered softly. “At least for now.”
With a final wave, Ava slowly pulled away from the driveway.
Jake felt a pang of regret as he watched her go. He had been so focused on the blackmail that he had almost forgotten the thrill of a real connection. But as he turned to face Kassie, he knew that he couldn't let himself get sidetracked.
“What are you doing with the teacher, fucking loser?” Kassie spat out, her arms still crossed tightly.
Jake felt a surge of anger at her words, but he kept his cool. He had the upper hand now, and he wasn't going to let her ruin it with her bitchy attitude. “Nothing, sorry,” he said, his voice low.
He retreated to his room, his mind racing with ideas for the next part of his twisted plan. He sat at his desk, the glow of his computer screen the only light in the otherwise dark space. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he composed an email to Kassie, detailing her next task. This one would be even more degrading than the last.
Kassie had been up for hours, long past her usual bedtime, staring at the new email that had just come in.
“Fuck,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I am so screwed.”
Her heart pounded like a drumline, and she was nearly hyperventilating. The message was short, but it hit like a punch to the gut. The blackmailing new demand was simply just too much.
They wanted her to throw a party. Not just any party—one hosted by her and her popular friends, but exclusively for the nerds. And she had to make sure the entire school knew about it. It had to be public, humiliating, unforgettable.
Her hands trembled as she read the line again:
“Make sure your friends are in deep with the nerds. Throw a party, invite only them. Make it big. Make it loud. Make sure everyone sees.”
Kassie swallowed hard. She didn’t know how she was going to pull this off—or how she'd survive the fallout if she did.
The next day at school, Kassie stormed down the hallway with purpose. She spotted Wu at his locker, exactly where he always was before third period. Without warning, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him a step closer.
“Listen up, geek boy,” she said, voice low and sharp. “I’m throwing a party this weekend. You and all your nerd friends are coming. That’s your job, got it? Round them up, every last one.”
Wu blinked, stunned, but didn’t pull away.
Kassie leaned in a little closer, just enough to make him forget how to breathe. “And who knows,” she added with a sly smile, “maybe I’ll let you kiss me again.”
She let go of his collar, smoothed her skirt, and turned on her heel like it was just another Tuesday. Wu stood frozen, red-faced, heart racing—trying to remember how walking worked.
In the days leading up to the party, Kassie felt like she was living a nightmare. The whispers and knowing glances followed her everywhere. She knew people were talking about her fall from grace—how the queen bee of the school had to throw a party for the school’s lowest social rungs. The irony wasn’t lost on her, and she hated every second of it.
But as the sun dipped below the horizon on that fateful Friday evening, Kassie steeled herself for the task at hand. She had picked out the perfect dress for the occasion—or so she thought. It was a tight, black number that clung to her body like a second skin, accentuating every curve and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The neckline plunged dangerously low, showcasing her ample cleavage, and the hemline barely brushed the tops of her toned thighs. Her long legs looked endless, thanks to the mile-high stilettos she'd begrudgingly picked out.
Her hair was styled in loose waves that fell around her shoulders. A stern expression etched on her face. Her eyes, light blue-gray checked out the perfection of herself.
“Look at yourself, Kassie,” Bailey Emerson said, her voice dripping with subservience as they later waited for the nerds to arrive over at Bailey's house. “You're dressed like you're about to walk the fucking runway for Vogue or VS.”
Kassie rolled her eyes at her friend. “It's called strategy, Bailey. If I'm going to have to throw a party for these dweebs, I might as well look good doing it.”
Bailey Emerson, dressed in a tight, crimson dress that clung to her body like a second skin, smirked.
Her dark chocolate hair was styled in loose waves that framed her face, drawing attention to her piercing emerald eyes and high cheekbones. The neckline of the dress was a scandalous plunge, revealing a generous amount of her perky, round breasts.
Her figure-hugging attire showcased her toned abs and the curve of her hips. The dress was so short that it barely covered the lacy tops of her stockings, which ended with a tease just before her thigh-high boots began. The boots had a tantalizing heel that made every step she took seem like a seductive dance move.
One by one, the popular girls began to arrive at Bailey's house, each making her own kind of entrance—like stars stepping onto a red carpet, radiating confidence, drama, and high-stakes gossip.
Cassandra was the first through the door. She wore a deep burgundy leather jacket over a skintight black dress and ankle boots that clicked with every step. Her dark hair was tied back in a sleek high ponytail, and she held a Starbucks cup like it was a fashion accessory.
Cassandra didn't knock—she just walked in, rolled her eyes at the living room, and said, “Ugh, this place better not smell like nerds by the end of tonight.”
Right behind her came Holland, her best friend and self-proclaimed “aesthetic queen.” Holland was dressed in a soft pastel cardigan over a white mini dress, her blonde waves perfectly curled and adorned with glittery butterfly clips. She paused in the doorway, blinked slowly like she was taking mental notes, and muttered, “we need some alcohol. Like. Immediately.”
Marissa arrived in an oversized vintage denim jacket and red lipstick bold enough to count as a warning sign. She had a bored expression on her face, earbuds in, but she nodded at Kassie in a “you owe me for this” kind of way. Her sneakers were pristine white, and she smelled like vanilla body spray and pure rebellion.
Mylah practically floated into the room—tall, black and graceful, and dressed in flowing satin pants and a cropped sequin top that shimmered with every movement. She adjusted her fancy gold hoops, smiled politely at no one in particular, and asked, “Did anyone bring some actual music? Or is this a tragic white girl party.”
Olivia was all sharp edges and smirks. She had a short platinum bob and wore a leather mini skirt with combat boots, black eyeliner winged to perfection. The Asian flopped onto the couch without greeting anyone and pulled out her phone. “Just tell me who I’m roasting,” she said, not looking up.
Scarlett came next, quiet but impossible to ignore. Her long auburn curls were tucked underneath a beanie, and she wore a vintage band tee tucked into a plaid skirt. She had a camera slung over one shoulder, as if she might turn the whole thing into a documentary if it amused her enough. “Hi, hi.”
Kehlani danced up the steps, literally. She had earbuds in and was bobbing her head to her own soundtrack. Dressed in a neon green hoodie and biker shorts, she looked like she was on her way to a viral TikTok. “Y’all better not be boring,” she said as she slid through the door with a loud laugh.
Finally, Lauren arrived, fashionably late as always. She wore a structured white blazer over a silk camisole, skinny jeans, and heels that made her even taller. Her makeup was flawless, her presence magnetic. “Sorry, I had to curate a look,” she said breezily. “What’s the plan—embarrass the nerds.”
Kassie watched them all take over the living room like they owned it. The queen bees were in the hive. Now all she had to do was get the ants to show up.
“Where the fuck are those geeks?” she murmured to herself, her impatience growing with each tick of the clock. She glanced at her phone, the screen taunting her with its emptiness.
As if on cue, the doorbell chimed, sending a rush of excitement through her. The party had officially begun. Kassie took a deep breath and pasted on her best “pleasant surprise” smile as she together with Bailey opened the door to a sea of nerds dressed in their most “cool” attire.
Kassie scanned the geeks, her eyes narrowing with irritation. Twelve nerds. Twelve. Each more awkward, gawky, and tragically dressed than the last. One was wearing socks with sandals. Another had a “Math is Life” hoodie. She barely suppressed a groan.
“Ugh. This is not a charity event,” she muttered under her breath.
Then she noticed the problem. There were two extra boys—and only ten girls. Her expression hardened like ice.
“You and you,” she snapped, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger toward the two nearest offenders. One had a juice box. The other was nervously adjusting his glasses.
“Beat it. Party's full.”
Her voice cut like glass, sharp and dismissive. The boys hesitated, stunned, then shuffled away from the house, their shoulders sagging under the weight of rejection. Kassie didn’t even watch them go. She was already calculating the new and better ratio.
Perfect. Balanced. As all things should be. She thought coldly.
Just as the two rejected boys disappeared down the sidewalk, the dynamic shifted.
Emerson grabbed Timmy Wilson by the arm. “You have a 94.7% chance of disliking this—” he began, but Emerson had already dragged him through the front door. “Just shut up, loser boy.”
Kassie rolled her eyes and locked eyes with Wu, who was lingering awkwardly by the fence, clutching a Rubik's Cube like a security blanket. Without a word, she marched over, seized his wrist, and pulled him into the house with the same kind of purpose one might use to retrieve a forgotten umbrella. “You are so lucky that you are with me, these other bitches.” she muttered.
Cassandra sauntered up to a lanky boy named Ethan Price, who had shoulder-length hair, a Tolkien T-shirt, and a voice that cracked every fifth word. He was mid-recitation of a fantasy novel quote when she interrupted him. “You talk too much,” she said, looping her arm through his and escorting him inside like a reluctant prom date.
Holland chose Caleb Moon, who wore round wire glasses and had a notebook filled with hand-drawn blueprints for an imaginary video game. He blinked at her, stunned, as she tilted her head and whispered, “You're coming with me, and don’t you dare make it weird.”
Marissa strutted over to Felix Gruber, the boy who wore suspenders unironically and smelled faintly of library dust. He looked like he’d stepped out of a different decade. She took one look at his bowtie, smirked, and said, “You’re too weird not to bring inside, come on.”
Mylah twirled her way toward Omar Patel, a soft-spoken boy with big brown eyes, a passion for coding, and a gentle demeanor. She extended her hand dramatically. “Chivalry’s dead. Let me resurrect it,” she said, pulling him along like a fairytale princess with a pet NPC.
Olivia picked Derek Chong, a sarcastic Dungeons & Dragons dungeon master with a mop of messy hair and a sharp tongue. “You're the least annoying,” she told him flatly. “That's a compliment.”
Scarlett silently approached Max Berger, who had headphones around his neck and was sketching dragons in a notebook. She tapped the page, nodded, and simply walked toward the door. Max was quick to follow without a word, like he understood the unspoken contract.
Kehlani found Zeke, a twitchy boy with a neon green hoodie that matched hers and a meme collection on his phone that could power a small fandom. She threw an arm around his shoulders and said, “You're with me, it looks like.”
Lauren, of course, made a grand show of it. She strolled like she was casting a movie and pick the last remaining nerd, Julian Weiss—tall, pale, perpetually reading something by Carl Sagan. “You look smart enough to keep me interested for five minutes,” she purred. “Congratulations.”
With each nerd claimed like an accessory to a power move, the party's guest list was complete. The girls had done what no one expected—they'd chosen their nerds.
Now all that remained was to see what kind of party this would really turn out to be.
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