The figure in the cloak reaches out and takes the money from you before pulling back their hood to reveal themselves... it's one of the cheerleaders! The shock on your face must be evident, because she smirks and says, "I just wanted to see if you were still willing to help us out."

She explains that they need the money for a new uniform or something like that. You hadn't really been paying attention, too caught up in the surprise of it all.

You apologize for not being more attentive and ask what else you can do to help. The cheerleader tells you that they could use your size to wash some uniforms at home; they're too delicate for the industrial washing machines at school. You hesitate for a moment, but ultimately agree. She gives you her address and thanks you again before disappearing into the crowd of students leaving school for the day.

She purses her lips in thought for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright... well then, why don't I show you something nice and simple to start with?" She takes another step closer, until she's close enough that you can feel the warmth of her breath against your cheek.

The young woman places her hands on your shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath her fingertips. "This is called a 'toe touch'. Just follow my lead and try to do what I do."

The young woman takes a deep breath and then slowly exhales before kicking one leg upwards and leaning backwards into your arms. Her body is pressed tightly against yours as she arches her back, showing off her toned stomach and perky behind. Your hands automatically wrap around her waist to support her weight while she holds her position for a few seconds, grinning up at you with excitement.

"See?" she pants, "That's not so hard, is it? Now try it."

The cheerleader's touch feels impossibly good as she teases and massages your growing erection through the thin fabric of your shorts. You try to resist the urge to moan, but it's becoming harder and harder to think about anything else. Her fingers dance over your skin, occasionally brushing against the sensitive tip before moving lower again.

"I don't understand," she whispers in your ear, her breath hot against your neck. "Why are you here? What do you need from my locker?"

A surge of panic shoots through you when suddenly strong hands clamp around your waist and drag you back against something hard. Before you can react, a pair of cold metal cuffs snap onto your wrists, binding them securely to the chair behind you. Your body slams into the rough surface as someone roughly yanks your pants and boxers down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.