A Little Bit of Candi - By Michael Alexander
The clang of the locker door echoed through the cheerleader’s dressing room and Candi Cook sighed audibly. It had been an invigorating workout, the team captain pushing them through their routine several times as they all struggled to jump, flip, bounce, and tumble, encouraging an imaginary crowd to cheer for an imaginary football team. Candi hadn’t minded the effort though. She was an energetic girl, with bright blue eyes that could melt hearts and make even the most reticent student jump up enthusiastically, screaming his head off, shouting “GO TEAM!”
Admittedly, Candi’s personality was only half the reason. Everyone seemed to love her and her popularity was through the roof. Most of that was because she was willing to talk to anyone, and never seemed to get mad. Even the nerds adored her, savoring the moments she would actually sit down at their table and eat lunch with them. Candi actually seemed to care, and that was something a little unheard of in a high school environment.
The other reason she was adored was because she was gorgeous, with long blond hair matching her sapphire eyes. Her face was round rather than narrow, and if you’d taken a poll she’d have scored pretty damn high on the “cute” scale and off the chart on the “pretty” one. It was one of the things that made her adorable. Of course there was one aspect of her physique that had the boys in the school crazy about her, and even some of the more liberally minded girls. Candace Cook was stacked.
It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, and on a personal level it was just something she lived with, but her breasts were unusually large for a girl her age. She was only sixteen years old and already a very firm and impressive size C. It was clear she tried to downplay her curves, which her petite and lightweight body held so well. No one ever saw her in low cut blouses or tight tops. But on the days where she wore her cheerleading uniform, it was impossible to hide, much less ignore, those amazing breasts.
As Candi peeled off her workout clothes and began dressing in something a little more appropriate for the walk home, one of the other cheerleaders, wrapped only in a towel, stepped up to her, holding a manila envelope. It was unusually thick.
“Hey Candi, one of your admirers dropped this off,” Becky said with a grin. “Cute guy with blond hair.” Candi glanced up. Becky was smiling in good nature, more amused than jealous, especially since it was well known that Candi hadn’t gone on any dates. She’d been polite to all the various requests, even friendly, turning them all down. It wasn’t that she lacked interest, but she had responsibilities, and dating wasn’t compatible with them.
Candi chuckled and took the envelope from Becky. “Thanks. If it’s a live one do you want me to suggest you instead?”
Becky’s eyebrows went up wickedly. “I answered the door in nothing but a towel, which accidently fell. I think he got the message. Cute guy though. Never seen him before. I don’t even think he goes to school here.”
That made Candi cock her head to the side. “He was a stranger?”
Becky shrugged. “Yep. And older too, like in his twenties maybe. He was a hunk.” Then Becky wandered away, leaving Candi to stare down at the heavy envelope. Finally she tore it open and upended it. To her surprise a smart phone fell out. She caught it deftly before it crashed to the floor. She held it for half a minute, shocked, when suddenly it vibrated in her hand. The screen flashed once and she saw that a text message had arrived. Blinking curiously, she lifted the phone up to read the screen.
“Candace, we need to discuss your brother’s situation. He might be in danger. Get somewhere private and respond “ready” to this text. Leave your phone there. I advise keeping the nature of this text secret. You don’t know who to trust.”
Candi gasped. She looked around. Half the locker room was already empty, most of the other cheerleaders either in the shower or already dressed and out the door. She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. What did it mean? Was her brother in danger? What the hell was going on? She put the phone down and hurriedly changed into her school clothes. Once dressed in the soft white blouse, the collar buttoned up almost to her neck, along with the neat, navy blue skirt that came down past her knees, she slipped on her flats, and snatched the phone up off the bench. She left her purse and smart phone in her locker. She didn’t bother to say goodbye to anyone, concern for her little brother overwhelming her.
Almost the moment she got outside she activated the touchscreen of the phone and quickly replied to the text message. She didn’t know what to expect, but a moment later another message arrived, this one with a picture.
“Jonathan!” Candi gasped out loud. She easily recognized her little brother as she struggled with a wave of varied emotion. The picture showed him tied and bound to a chair, a cloth gag in his mouth. He looked uncomfortable – and scared.
Almost immediately another text arrived. “We haven’t hurt him, but to keep him that way, you’ll need to follow some very specific directions. To start off with, don’t call or go to the police. Do that and not only will I guarantee you won’t see your brother again, but I’ll record how it ends and send it to you. I can assure you that it will be painful.”
Candi almost dropped the phone as the horror of it struck her. Was it a joke? Who could be so vicious? Why her? What did they want? She fell backward against the brick wall of the school, barely able to remain upright. Another text arrived and she read it through brimming tears.
“You will start off by proceeding to the field house out by the stadium. You will find a box next to the trash can. Get the box. Open it. Follow the instructions inside.”
Candi shook, trying to master her emotions. She looked around, as if searching for help, but the warning not to get the police involved prevented her from calling out. She almost hoped a teacher would step up and ask her what was wrong, but none seemed to be around. She bit her lip, trying to think of options when the phone buzzed again.
“Time is important. Take too long and I’ll hurt him.”
For the second time that day the blond cheerleader ran out to the football field, this time alone. Her sneakers had been replaced with the flats she had worn to school, which only slowed her down marginally. The field was deserted and she quickly moved around to the far side of the bleachers, toward the field house. She looked left and right, wondering if she was alone, but didn’t see anyone. The football team itself practiced on a different field on the other side of the school, so it wasn’t that unusual for the multi-million dollar stadium to be left empty on a weekday afternoon.
She spotted the box almost immediately. It was medium sized and plain. Cautiously Candi approached it, still looking out for an ambush. Finally assured that she was alone, she grabbed the box and moved back out into the middle of the field. She wanted lots of space around her. She tore the box open, hurrying for Jonathan’s sake. Inside she found several folded pieces of cloth, but before she could draw them out, the phone in her hand vibrated.
“Put them on,” was all the message said.
Confused, Candi drew the material out of the box. To her shock it was an outfit, both pieces an ivory cream color. The material was stretchy, like elastic, and Candi realized that she couldn’t tell the difference between the top and bottom. They seemed interchangeable, both form fitting and tight. She clutched the box to her chest and looked around. The phone buzzed again and she glanced at the screen.
“Right there. Take off your clothes and put on the skirt and top. And Candi – no bra or panties.”
Candi, as good natured as she was, suddenly couldn’t take it. She dumped the box and the clothing on the ground and furiously began typing into the phone.
“Who the hell are you and why are you doing this?” she demanded, her fingers flying furiously over the virtual keyboard on the screen. She hit the send button quickly, her face flushed with anger, fear, and humiliation. It only took twenty or so seconds for the phone to vibrate again. She slid her fingers across the screen and saw that a video file had been sent. The opening image was again of her younger brother, still bound to the chair. She hit the play button and the camera angle changed. Whoever was holding it approached Jonathon. She saw a hand appear holding some sort of black, metal object in the other hand. He pressed it against Jon’s shoulder and there was a crackling sound. Candi gasped as her brother jerked wildly, his face contorted in agony. But then it was over and he slumped, crying loudly.
Candi burst into tears as the video ended, a flood of emotions overwhelming her. The questions she had demanded of their tormentor were no less valid despite having received no answer, and she quickly picked up the box of clothing again. The phone vibrated once more and another text message was received.
“Do I need to hurt him again?” it asked.
She glanced around. There was still no one she could see, but her eyes flashed up to the press box, where the tinted windows blocked her view. Or the snack shack, were someone could have been watching her from behind the closed order window, standing in the semi-darkness. Was Jonathan close by?
She moved fast, clutching at one of the white pieces of elastic material. She shucked out of the blue navy skirt, stripping it from her ample hips and sending it to the ground. She wore a pair of yellow, bikini cut panties underneath. She stepped into the white sheath and pulled it upward until it came up to her waist. She moaned in frustration. If she pulled the skirt up to the proper point, it wasn’t long enough to cover her bottom and sex. She went back to the box and grabbed the other piece of material, holding it up. Maybe she had gotten them confused and the other piece was the skirt. She peeled the white sheath off her rump, her panties almost getting stuck to it as it came down. She tried the other piece and discovered the exact same problem – it didn’t fit.
Tears stinging her eyes, she picked the phone off the grass and again sent a text message.
“It doesn’t fit!” she sent, a single tear splashing on the phone face. She wiped it off and waited.
“It’s not supposed to. Do your best. And take off those goddamn yellow panties.”
Candi blinked. The confirmation scared her more than the demand. She whirled around, eyes flashing. He was there. Watching her. Somewhere. Her mind raced furiously. She had a phone. Why not call the police? They’d be able to surround the place, find Jonathan, and get her brother back. But would she have time? She had to play along. She pulled the phone close, facing the field house, hoping she was hiding her movements. Carefully she hit the speakerphone, then dialed nine one one. She put the phone down as the ringing sound hit her ears and she almost held her breath as hope flooded through her heart.
“Nine one one, what is your emergency?” a bored voice asked. He was obviously male.
“Please!” Candi said. “You’ve got to help my brother! There’s this man who is hurting him and he’s making me do things! We’re here! At the school stadium!”
“Wait a moment. You say that this man is hurting your brother?” the dispatcher asked, his voice suspicious.
“Yes! Please! Send the police! I know he’s here because he can see me!” she said.
“Your brother can see you?”
Candi grimaced in frustration. “No! The MAN can! He’s here! With my brother!”
There was a long pause, followed by laughter. Candi blinked in shock.
“What makes you think your brother is there, Candi?” the man asked.
Candi’s mouth opened and she shook her head. “No… no. No! You’re the police!” she stammered.
“Dumb bitch. It’s my phone. Now, someone is going to have to be punished for you disobeying your orders. So I’ll let you choose. Do you want the punishment, or should I give it to your little brother?” There was a long pause. “I’m going to hold that taser to his dick by the way.”
Candi burst into tears. “No,” she sobbed. “Me. It’s my fault. Punish me!” she gasped.
“I’ll think about it. Now you’ve got ten seconds to get those fucking yellow panties off, followed by that stupid blouse and whatever fucking scaffolding you’ve got holding up those magnificent tits. And Candi, make sure you turn around nice and neat while you’re dressing. Once you’re done we’ll discuss your fucking punishment.” Then the phone line clicked off.
Her fingers went up under the white skirt, bunching it up around her waist as she yanked down her panties. It was humiliating, totally degrading standing there on the football field, her ass and sex in full view. White creamy skin appeared with only a small patch of trimmed down, just above her shaved slit. The moment she stepped out of her underclothes she tugged the skirt down. She had to make a decision about what to cover and the waistband of the skirt slid down under her hips, almost baring the tiny triangle of hair she maintained. She could feel the air on her bottom, the white material cupping her ass, but only barely. She took a tentative step as she turned once, realizing that she’d even need to take tiny steps in order to keep her sex from being exposed.
She began unbuttoning her shirt next, tears pouring down her cheeks. Trembling, it took her twice as long as normal to get the front of her blouse undone. Finally she opened the material, exposing the magnificent bosom she naturally sported. She shrugged out of the shirt, clasping her arms across her breasts as she plucked the second white sheath from the box and tugged it over her head. She had it around her neck before she reached between her breasts and unclipped the front of the bra. The “C” sized cups falling away. Her nipples were the size of nectarines, with the same shade of pink upon the flesh. They hardened, not from cold or from arousal, but from embarrassment as the bra dropped to the ground. In seconds she had covered up again, yanking the stretchy material of the white shift down and over her breasts.
It clung to her like paint, providing the same amount of support her bra had given her, though the material seemed almost translucent. Candi whimpered. She could actually see her nipples through the thin cloth, both hard points obvious and exposed. Worse, the top was tight, mashing her breasts together and since it wasn’t any longer than her skirt, and she’d created a massive, eye catching cleavage. The bottom hemline of the top barely curved under her breasts, leaving her entire midriff bare. She didn’t know where to put her arms first!
The phone vibrated from where she’d dropped it on the field. She bent down to pick it up, only to discover that as she did, the top stretched and both of her breasts literally slid out of the material at the top. She snatched up the phone and stuffed her chest back in, shaking in humiliation. She looked at the phone through her tears and saw she’d received another text message.
“Very nice. Put your clothes in the box, except leave your panties there. I like the idea of the football team finding it. Maybe I’ll access your profile online and make sure the entire football team knows you wear yellow panties.”
Candi obediently put her clothes in the box, but left her panties lying there on the ten yard line. It was hard and her tears still came freely. Finally she closed the box and lifted the phone.
“I’m done,” she typed.
“I know,” came the response. “Now start walking. You need to get to the corner of Main, where the bus pickup is. You’ve got about fifteen minutes.”
Candi blinked. “I can’t!” she typed back. “I can’t be seen dressed like this!”
“I’m not sure what you typed there, but I read ‘please hold that tazer to my brother’s balls.’ Did I read that right?”
Candi gasped, her fingers flying. “No! Please! I’ll do it!”
“Damn right you will. And smile too. If anyone comments, thank them, regardless of what they say. Now get that cute little ass and those amazing tits of yours to the fucking bus stop. I expect you to make good time in those stupid looking flats you always wear.”