*That stupid Sergy!* Anna Kournikova fumed to herself as she pushed her
way past the security guards stationed in front of the locker room doors.
Tennis’ reigning sixteen-year old diva once again found herself ABSOLUTELY
FURIOUS at her twenty-seven-year-old beau, Detroit Red Wings’ star
defenseman Sergei Federov, and she was not about to let ANYONE stand in the
way of her retribution.
“Hey, little lady, you can’t go back there!” one of the guards cautioned
the teen beauty as he lightly grasped her arm
“You let go of me now, asshole!” Anna barked, her accent always much
thicker when she was angry. “Or I will have you fired from your stupid job
and begging on the streets.”
“Listen, little lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are …”
The guard was getting angry now, too, and he tightened the grip on the
tennis teen-queen’s muscular arm.
“I am Anna Kournikova!” she snapped back, tearing her arm from his grip
and savagely kicking him in the balls. “Who in fuck are YOU?!” she
sneered, watching gleefully as the guard buckled to the ground amid the
shocked stares of countless spectators and the other security guards.
“What the fucking you are staring at?” she barked at the crowd, her toned
torso quaking with rage. Her accent not only got thicker when she lost her
temper, but her grammar skills went to hell, too. “Fuck you all on your
mothers!” she shouted before storming past the last bewildered guards and
into the corridor leading to the Red Wings’ locker room.
*How dare he!* she fumed. *STUPID SERGY! How dare he let me be
humiliated so! * STUPID OAF! * He is only good for one thing. He is very
famous, and he looks good as my boyfriend. But that is all. How dare he
let me be insulted so!* She kicked open the door at the end of the hall and
marched into the team’s locker room as if she owned it.
She was greeted by a host of shocked, semi-embarrassed stares. Grown
men stood around naked, their thick cocks hanging low and unfettered. As
the sixteen-year-old beauty stormed into the locker room, her bold presence
triggered an instinctive reaction. Row after row of flaccid pricks snapped
to attention, as every player sought the nearest towel to cover his bashful
package.
Anna scarcely noticed the regiment of cocked cum-rifles trained on her
fit, fuckable frame. At the moment, she only had one thing on her mind —
* STUPID SERGY! *
Her face flushed and her silky blond hair shimmered in the fluorescent
lighting. She strode across the cold tile floor with the rhythmic
click-clack of her black fuck-me pumps. Every well-defined muscle in her
tanned toned body rippled against her form-fitting, zip-down black tank
top. Her nipples jetted out like ripe raspberries against the semi-sheer,
skintight lycra. Her sleek, sinewy legs churned beneath a vexatiously
short black tennis skirt. Her entire magnificent, young body was bronzed
with a deep copper tan … the best money could buy.
Undeniably, Anna Kournikova was the sexiest, most awe-inspiring vision
of feminine loveliness the exhausted puck-humpers had ever seen. Every
jaundiced eye in the locker room glinted as she passed — teeth gnashed,
lips moistened, nostrils flared. “What the FUCK does this little cunt
think she’s doing?” each man snarled to himself. “Fucking little teenage
cock-tease isn’t going to get away with this shit!”
If Anna sensed any of their growing rancor, she chose to ignore it, just
as she chose to ignore the whole host of half-naked jocks jostling each
other as they ogled every inch of her firm, fresh flesh. To Anna, Sergei’s
teammates were nothing more than furniture, no more significant than the
benches, lockers and shower stalls. To Anna, the only thing that mattered
right now was finding STUPID SERGY and setting him straight once and for
all. If his teammates looked on, that was all the better.
The Detroit Red Wings didn’t like the teenage tennis star’s attitude ONE
BIT! They sensed her arrogance and ambivalence, and their bestial blood
began to boil. “How dare she come in here like this!” After they had just
battled through three grueling periods of intense NHL play, Anna Kournikova
had the audacity to come storming into THEIR locker room without paying
them even a moment’s notice. And now she strode before them heedlessly ”
some might even say sadistically — flaunting her provocative, perfumed
charms before their ravening eyes like tender, succulent veal.
Within five seconds of her impromptu arrival, every slab of man-meat in
the locker room achieved full erection. They jutted out below the players’
washboard abs like baseball bats. While a few of the players tried to hide
their arousal, most quickly grew bolder. The cockiest among the team began
to dangle their fuck tusks in plain view, nonchalantly stroking their hard
pricks in order to catch the little slut’s eye. Their locker-room hi-jinks
came to an abrupt halt, however, when they heard Number 91’s voice.
“Anna! What do you do here?” Sergei Federov burst through the throng of
players. The brawny, twenty-seven-year-old hockey star practically ran
down the row of benches to where to his sixteen-year-old girlfriend raged
like an avenging angel ” her cold eyes shooting sharp, icy daggers at him.
“Anna you must leave now!” he pleaded.
“I’m not leaving until you buy me a pearl necklace!” Anna screeched so
everyone in the locker room could hear her. “That bitch Martina Hingis was
bragging to everyone today how her boyfriend gave her a pearl necklace last
night while they were in bed, and then that black bitch Venus Williams asks
me: ‘Anna, does your Sergei give you pearl necklaces, too?’ And when I say,
‘No,’ they all laugh at me .. At me?? Anna Kournikova!! And all because
you, stupid Sergei, will not give me pearl necklace. I want pearl necklace
… expensive pearl necklace … most expensive money can buy, so that I
can show bitches Martina and Venus and all the other bitches. I want pearl
necklace, and I want it now! Do you hear me, stupid Sergy?”
Brendan Shanahan, the Red Wing’s left wing, couldn’t help but snicker as
he heard the bratty, sixteen-year-old beauty demand a “pearl necklace.” His
outburst uncorked a round of similar chortles, which suddenly erupted into
a chorus of belly laughs when Bob Rouse raised his voice into a girlish
tone and mocked: “Come on, Sergggy, give me a pearl necklace right now. I
need one so bad I can taste it!”
“Fuck yourself off!” Anna snapped back at Rouse. The team laughed even
harder at the teen queen’s awkward English and sharp accent.
“You are embarrassing me,” Sergei grabbed Anna by the arm and tried to
direct her towards the locker room door. “We will discuss this later …”
“Now, stupid Sergy.” The athletic adolescent twisted herself out of his
grasp and slapped him square in the face … in front of everyone. “We
will talk about this now.”
Sergei’s teammates all turned away uncomfortably now. What had been
amusing was now turning ugly and humiliating for their star center. No man
liked to see another man pussy whipped by his girlfriend, especially when
she was a sixteen-year-old bratty cunt like Anna Kournikova.
Sergei’s face burned with her egregious assault upon his masculinity.
Half of him wanted to cry like a baby, and the other half wanted to take
the little cunt by her blonde hair, throw her to the ground, and ram his
cock down her teenage throat.
“So this is what you are now doing?” she berated him. “Standing there
like a stupid oaf. You will be saying you are sorry, Sergy. Apologize to
me for making me look so stupid in front of those bitches and promise to
get me my pearl necklace,” she demanded. She stamped her foot to punctuate
her ultimatum, and then thrust out her perfectly-sculpted bosom. “This
body that you like so much?!” she threatened. “No more will you be able to
touch it!” She arched her spine and tossed back her hair in order to show
EVERYONE what Sergei would be casting aside if he failed to comply with her
wishes.
“Come on, Serg,” Steve Yzerman suddenly interrupted from behind one of
the locker. “The lady wants a pearl necklace. So why don’t you just give
her one .. right now.” More men snickered and looked away, afraid to meet
Sergei’s eyes. The star center grinned darkly and turned back to Anna.
“Please, darling …” he began.
“What did you say?” Anna burst out, pushing past her Russian boy-toy and
confronting Yzerman directly.
“I told him to give you the necklace right now,” Yzerman managed to say
with a straight face. “He’s got one waiting for you. Guys here in the
States always have ‘pearl necklaces’ ready to give their pretty
girlfriends. Sergy’s just been holding out on you, that’s all. He probably
wanted to surprise you when no one was around. Guys get embarrassed
displaying that kind of affection in public. You know, it’s a ‘guy
thing,'” he tried to keep a straight face.
“Is that true, Sergy?” Anna whirled back to her dumbfounded boy-toy.
“Do you have pearl necklace for me that you have not given me?” She didn’t
sound like she was going to take ‘No’ for an answer. “If you do, you must
give it to me, right now, in front of all your friends and show them how
much you love me.”
“You don’t understand, Anna,” Sergei tried to make her listen. “The
guys are kidding with you …”
“Are you kidding with me?” Anna snapped back at Yzerman.
“Honey, a guy would never kid about a thing like that. We all got pearl
necklaces just waiting to be given away. I got one right now as a matter
of fact.”
“You do?” Anna’s blue-green eyes lit up like fireworks. “You have pearl
necklace you could give me right now?”
“Anna …” Sergei stepped forward, trying to quash the joke before it
went any further.
“Shut up, stupid Sergy,” she snarled, cutting him off. “If STUPID SERGY
does not have pearl necklace to give me, I will have to find new boyfriend
who does. Maybe this one?” She pointed to Yzerman, flashing him a
cum-hither smile that would halt a Panzer division.
“Hey, Anna, I’ve got me a pearl necklace I could give you, too,” Rouse
shot in. “And mine may be even bigger than Yzerman’s.”
“I know for a fact mine is bigger,” Aaron Ward piped up, “and better.
I’d love to give it to you if you’d be my girlfriend.”
Seconds later, all the Red Wings were volunteering to present Anna with
pearl necklaces befitting her royal status as the sports’ worlds reigning
beauty queen. She was positively basking in the glow of all this male
worship. Sadistically, she paraded her young, coltish body before the
naked men, delighting in their rapacious attention. She absolutely basked
in the power of her feminine wiles; giggling like a schoolgirl as her
flirtatious preening made each man’s meaty cock grow even thicker and more
tortured.
“I don’t know who I can choose,” she cooed as she admired all the
glistening, naked bodies slowly closing in around her. “I will see who has
the nicest, most valuable necklace, and he can be my new boyfriend.” She
stuck out her tongue at Sergei. He sighed and shook his head, deciding to
let the arrogant adolescent learn her lesson … the HARD WAY.
“I have an idea,” Yzerman smiled. “Why don’t you kneel on the ground
like a princess accepting her crown. And then each guy can come up and
present you his necklace. You know ..? Spread it around your .. neck ..
and then you can decide who has the best one after every guy has given you
one. How does that sound?”
“I will do this,” Anna giggled, kneeling to the floor and sticking out
her awesome chest in anticipation of the ceremony. “Please go ahead,” she
ordered like she really was a princess and these hung studs really were her
slavering subjects.
“Close your eyes, princess,” Yzerman told her. “That way when you see
my necklace, it will really be a surprise.” She did as she was told,
scrunching her eyes shut like a little girl blowing out candles on a
birthday cake. “Now open your mouth, too,” Yzerman instructed as he
gripped his hard, eight-inch cock and began pumping it inches from Anna’s
unsuspecting face.
“Why do I open my mouth?” Anna asked in a puzzled voice.
“Don’t you know how to test pearls?” Yzerman quipped. “You rub them
against your teeth to see if they’re real. If they’re smooth, they’re
fake.”
“Oh,” she giggled and opened her mouth. “Please rub them across my
teeth, so I can see if they’re real.” “Oh, they’re real all right.”
Yzerman could barely contain a belly- laugh as he inched his bloated
cock-head towards Anna’s perfect white teeth. Just as he was about to make
contact, though, he stopped and let his inflamed warhead hover mere
millimeters from the teasing teenager’s quivering, expectant lips.
“That’s beautiful, man,” Aaron Ward whispered. His eyes and the eyes of
every other Red Wing drank in the delicious depravity of the pending
assault. Brendan Shanahan reached over and exchanged a high-five with
Yzerman while the rest of their teammates stroked and readied their rape
rifles for the attack.
Anna’s nose twitched and wrinkled as her nostrils filled with the
pungent odor of sweaty cock. “What would be that stink?” she asked, her
voice a mixture of annoyance and apprehension.
“That’s the pearls, baby,” Yzerman answered. His strong fingers sank
into her clean blond hair and gently combed through her silky tresses.
“It P.U. stink!” she spit, starting slightly at his presumptuous
caress.
“That’s ’cause the pearls are fresh, baby,” Yzerman cracked. “Right out
of the shell.”
“Oh,” she smiled greedily, then recoiled slightly as Yzerman’s callused
touch suddenly grew much rougher. In an instant, he went from petting her
soft locks to grabbing a hearty hank of her blond hair. “What are you
…?” she squeaked.
“Shhhh …” Yzerman cut her off as he pressed his engorged glans
forward. Sensing that something was now amiss, the sultry sixteen-year-old
tried to squirm out of the hockey player’s grasp. But Yzerman was no
longer toying with the pampered princess. As she struggled beneath his
iron grip, he began rubbing the spongy skin of his cock-head against her
smooth, sparkling incisors. “How does that feel, cunt!?” he spat into the
supple siren’s closed eyes. “Soft enough for you?”
“Wha ………?!” the shocked teen bawled. Her blue eyes popping open
in stark terror, she was just in time to witness Yzerman guiding the
plum-sized helmet of his prick into her startled mouth.
She gagged instantly, trying to jerk her head away as Yzerman’s thick,
serpent-like member slid along her lolling tongue. She continued
struggling for a few more seconds until she realized her resistance was not
only futile, but painful as well. The hockey jock was just TOO STRONG.
With his hand placed firmly against the back of her skull, she could only
surrender her mewling mouth as a helpless hostage to his savage assault.
“Unnghhh” she grunted, trying to scream for help. But the only reply
was a chorus of cheers from the howling hockey players crowding in around
her. In vain, the spoiled sex symbol sought out Sergei — *He will save me
from this!* But when she found her boyfriend’s eyes, they were as cold and
compassionless as the old statues of Lenin she used to gaze upon as a small
girl growing up in Russia.
“You wanted your pearl necklace,” Yzerman growled as he stuffed even
more if his cock into her weeping mouth. “Now your going to have to earn
it, you little cock-teasing, teenage cunt. Suck me, bitch! Suck that
thick, hard cock until it sprays a pearl necklace all over that pretty
little stuck-up face of yours, you fucking slut.”
Tears poured down Anna’s violated face as she strove to accommodate the
first cock she’d ever had thrust between her succulent lips. Sergei had
always wanted her to perform this lewd act, but she had always refused. It
was the act of a street whore, not a young lady. Now, however, she was
performing the perversion exactly like the common street whores she had
always seen and looked down upon in her native land.
Yes, it was true. She, Anna Kournikova, the queen of sports starlets,
found herself helplessly sucking a big fat cock like the lowliest 20 ruble
whore in a Moscow alleyway. Then, to add to her growing horror, she cast
her teary gaze upon the rest of the Detroit Red Wings as they lined up
behind Yzerman. Each of her would-be assailants loomed before her like a
veritable mountain of muscle and man-meat. The jocks all leered at her
mercilessly, laughing at her dire predicament. As each one jostled for a
better position in the line, they began slapping each other on the back —
pointing, jeering, spitting, and stroking their cum-cannons in a seemingly
endless procession that grew noisier and more vicious with every passing
second.
“Here it comes, cunt!” Yzerman spat in Anna’s bleary face. An instant
later, he withdrew his enraged prick, pressing the quivering piss-hole
against her chin. With a sizzling fizz, his pumping testicles then let
loose with a wet, stringy volley of hot spunk. As the stream of semen
spurted across her face and throat, he used his cock-head like a
paintbrush, smearing his viscid man-slime across her pouting cheeks and
cruelly rubbing his salty spume across her neck. “There’s your pearl
necklace, bitch. How do you like that? Is it big enough and shiny enough
for you?”
As she wept in shame, the guys all laughed. As her desperate, pathetic
eyes sought out Sergei, she saw her twenty-seven-year-old boyfriend smile
sadistically. She knew now that he would do nothing to save her from being
further violated, and that if she was going to escape any further
degradation she would have to rely upon her own wits.
For a few moments, the hockey players turned their attention from her
cum-covered debasement to their victorious teammate. Yzerman beamed
proudly as his teammates congratulated him with more back slaps and
high-fives. Sending a momentary lull in her assailants’ vigilance, Anna
sprang to her feet and attempted a frantic dash to the locker room door.
If she could just make it outside .. make it to the security guards ..
then this would all be over.
In another moment, however, all her hopes were crushed. Strong hands
appeared form nowhere. They wrestled her back down to the floor, pinning
her spine to the cold tile and tearing away her short black skirt and tight
black top. More cheers erupted when the savage squad drank in the absolute
perfection of her trim, toned torso ” her teenage tits cupped inside the
sweltering cups of a lacy black bra, her washboard abs rippling in
horrified heaves along her flat, suntanned tummy.
More brutish hands then descended upon her. The hooks and straps of her
designer bra quickly snapped into tatters. Her tanned, firm tits became
the play- things for what seemed a hundred rough, ruthless paws.
She tried to kick away, but two pairs of strong arms immobilized her
legs. The arms lifted her thrashing thighs off the floor while another set
of callused fingers scraped off her black silk panties. More hands then
found her silky, blonde pussy. She writhed and wriggled violently, like a
she-wolf caught in a bear-trap. Countless coarse fingers probed the moist
tender confines of her tight teenage pussy, spread apart her firm
ass-cheeks, lacerated her tight, puckering ass-hole.
Then the cocks reappeared. They jabbed at her sobbing mouth, thrusting
down into her gasping throat and choking the fight out of her hard, toned,
athletic body.
Utterly overwhelmed, Anna barely put up a struggle now as the minutes
stretched into infinity. Woefully, she felt her sinewy thighs spread apart
like a wishbone. She sobbed like a baby when she realized she was
powerless to control her own bodily instincts. To her absolute disgust,
she found her helpless teenage pussy coaxed to wetness by skillful tongues,
rough fingers, and the sensation of hard cock-meat tickling her clit.
Smelling the unmistakable odor of her arousal, the brutal jocks began
teasing her even more mercilessly. They cajoled her into opening herself
even further to their invasion. They skillfully manipulated her wet,
wanton womanliness until she was snorting like a pig and spreading her own
legs even wider, inviting the assault that suddenly blitzkreiged up her
sopping, sixteen-year-old snatch.
“God damn fuck me all ..!” she croaked above their demonic howls.
The Detroit Red Wings obliged.
One cock blazed inside her cunt, another crammed up to her tonsils, and
countless hands molested and molded her rape-ravaged body like malleable,
fleshy clay. Since coming to the conclusion that she could do nothing to
stop the fuck storm raging outside and inside her toned, teenaged body,
Anna Kournikova decided to simply to surrender to her basest more guttural
urges.
She bucked her hips up to meet the anonymous ten-inch cock now skewering
her hole; she sucked with wild abandon the fuck-stick jabbing at her
tonsils; she swooned with the sensation of yet another hot, pearl necklace
adorning her bronze neck and boobies.
* STUPID SERGY *! She cackled to herself as she wiped the glaze of cum
from her sparkling eyes and gazed upon her glowering ex-boyfriend. *
STUPID STUPID SERGY! *