Posted by dolungbridge on February 03, 2007 at 08:33:59:
I posted this story a while ago on both the Fatal Females and the Deadskirts boards. Someone suggested that I also post it here for archiving. I hope everyone enjoys it!
JOCELIN'S CHEERLEADER DAYS - PART ONE - DIES "CHEER"AE
Jocelin and her squad were furious.
It had not been a good week for the Meyers University all-girl competition cheerleaders. Not only had they lost the local NCA Conference trophy to cross-town rivals Hagen College, but those Hagen girls had won by stealing the Meyers squad's cherished routine!
Jocelin knew exactly what had happened. Three days before the NCA finals, Lori--their co-captain and choreographer--had gone missing. Then the Hagen girls had flounced onto the competition floor with the very same dance moves that Lori and Jocelin and the rest of the Meyers squad had worked so hard to perfect. The Meyers girls, minus their co-captain and cheated out of their routine, threw together an enthusiastic but jumbled performance. The judges, notorious hard-asses, were not impressed by team spirit alone--so those rich snooty white bitches from Hagen had walked away with an easy victory.
The girls howled for blood, and Jocelin was ready to lodge a formal protest, but her intuition stopped her. She knew something sinister was afoot.
The day after the competition, Lori's body was found dumped in a local arroyo, clad in the shredded remnants of her Meyers Cheer Squad practice outfit. She had been bound with duct tape, gagged, cut non-fatally in her chest, belly and arms and finally shot three times in and around the left breast.
The police arrested Cal Greenwood, Lori's boyfriend and Meyers University's star quarterback. But Jocelin knew: Lori had been kidnapped by those Hagen girls--probably led by Cherrill, their team captain, a snooty, evil bitch if there ever was one. They had tortured the routine out of Lori, then killed her and ditched her and pinned the murder on Cal.
Jocelin's suspicions were confirmed when an unmarked videotape showed up in her dorm mailbox. On the tape were Lori's final moments.
Lori's kidnappers had tied her to a padded office chair. She had been pretty thoroughly worked over. Her face was blue with mottled bruises. A bright trickle of blood ran from her nose. It looked as though the skin of her arms and legs had been burned with a curling iron. Her practice T-shirt had been torn to ragged shreds, the Meyers U. logo slashed many times so that the mesh of her gray Spandex sports bra was exposed.
Feminine figures in black cat-suits gathered around Lori. Cheap masks covered their faces. A light came on, bathing the captive in a harsh glare.
"Anything you wanna say to your squad, Meyers slut?" a female voice barked. Jocelin couldn't recognize the speaker's voice.
Lori squirmed against her restraints. The ropes fetchingly under-wired her full breasts. "You promised to release me if I gave you the routine!"
"You wanna be released? Sure, we'll release you!" One of the cat-suits produced a snub-nosed revolver and fired BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! without hesitation or mercy.
The shots tore through Lori's left breast. Lori bucked, feet kicking out, her death-spasm almost but not quite upending the chair. She let out a final strangled sigh and went limp against the ropes. Blood flooded her sports bra and dribbled in rivulets down her chest.
The camera jerkily zoomed in to give Jocelin a thorough view of her co-captain's mangled bosom. Watching the tape in the privacy of her room, Jocelin experienced a combination of fury and sorrow, but also a kind of curious awe. She felt for her own left breast, kneading it gently through her white lace bra, wondering what it would be like to feel three bullets piercing that mound of tender flesh.
On the tape, one of the cat-suits pulled up Lori's head by her hair. Lori's dead eyes gaped into the lens.
"Well, she's worm-food," someone said sarcastically.
It might have been Cherrill's voice, but Jocelin couldn't be sure.
"The bitch deserved it," the original speaker sneered. The woman's masked face leered into the camera. "The rest of you Meyer cheer-sluts are next!"
The screen went black.
Jocelin could have turned the tape over to the cops. But she knew this tape was a message from Cherrill, meant specially for her. Jocelin had attended McQuade High with Cherrill, and the two girls had despised each other with a passion almost from the moment they had met. Cherrill was a stuck-up rich cunt was used to getting whatever she wanted, and Jocelin was probably the first person to ever stand up to her. No doubt Jocelin had earned Cherrill's eternal enmity the moment she was chosen over Cherrill to captain the McQuade songleaders.
They competed for boys, and both of them had dated one at the same time, a certain Brad McCallach. There had been many catfights with Cherrill over Brad, and eventually Brad had ditched both of them out of sheer frustration at the jealous rivalry. Now he was pre-law at Hagen, and dating some other rich white piece of skirt.
"No more cheerleaders ever again!" he'd sworn to Jocelin. "You chicks are too fuckin' neurotic!"
Nevertheless, Jocelin had kept in touch with Brad. The man definitely had his uses. He was connected, for one thing. Guns, drugs, fake I.D.'s--the man could get you anything, if you had the cash up front. And the Meyers cheerleaders had plenty of cash. Most of the girls had attended McQuade with Jocelin, and the most important thing they had learned was how to skim dollars from all those fund-raising car washes and bake sales. That money--and Brad's connections--accounted for the contents of a large padlocked trunk hidden under a pile of unused volleyball gear in the Girls Athletics storage closet...
It was Brad that Jocelin now called.
"'Sup, Jo?" Brad answered brightly.
Jocelin got right to the point; it was useless talking any other way with Brad, because there was always a high likelihood that she would be interrupting some blow-job he was getting. "What's that crazy bitch Cherrill up to?"
Brad laughed. "Cherrill? Christ, I haven't seen her in days! Why do you ask? Jealous?"
"Fuck, no! She's up to something, that's all. I just wanna know what."
"Why would she tell me anything? She hates my guts."
"Just a feeling. She knows we used to date, so..."
"So you think she's gonna tell you something through me?"
"Yeah."
"Jo, you're one fucked-up girl, you know that?"
"That's why you used to love me."
"Yeah, well, whatever twisted shit's goin' down between you and Cherrill, you can just keep me out of it! That psychopathic bitch would just as soon put a cap in my ass!"
Jocelin visualized Cherrill, resplendent in her Hagen cheer uniform, grinning in triumph, aiming the snub-nose at her chest and firing. Her young body twitched involuntarily at the thought.
"Just tell me what she's doing!" she demanded.
"She's nuts for this whole cheerleadin' thang, if you hafta know, ever since she beat you Meyers girls at the competition. I think she's runnin' her squad through their paces tomorrow night. Hagen's getting ready to kick your butt in the game next week, now that your star quarterback's out."
"Thanks, Brad. That's just what I needed to know."
"Hey, if you two ever decide to get it on, let me know! I wanna tape it."
"Dog." She hung up.
That afternoon, after practice, she rolled a TV into the locker room and showed the tape to the squad.
The girls were stunned. They stood ringed around Jocelin at the VCR, dressed to impress in their smart yellow tapered v-neck body-shells with ruby trim and their smooth, hip-hugging wrap skirts. Their youthful bosoms heaved in agitation against the MEYERS lettering stitched across their chests. To the sheen of sweat on their faces and arms was added the flush of rage.
Jocelin spoke: "Girls, we have to decide, here and now, are we going to sit still for this, or are we going to do something? Because those Hagen girls up to something, let me tell you! They've framed our team's quarterback, they've stolen our hottest moves, and they've made each one of us a target! Who can we turn to for help? The police? Those Hagen bitches own the cops! Their families are old money; they own half the world, for fuck's sake! No, we've got to do this on our own, and we've got to do it now, as a team, before we're picked off one by one! Cherrill and her squad have already tortured and killed one of us, and they're not going to stop 'til we're all dead and the Meyers football program is in ruins! So for the sake of our team, our school, our spirit, are you with me?!?"
A tremendous cheer filled the locker room. Waving their poms wildly in the air, the girls spontaneously began to chant the Meyers spirit song:
"Meyers, fight on! Meyers, fight!
Be strong, be brave, and do it right!
Trample that defense! Run that ball!
Don't stop fighting 'til you WIN IT ALL!"
Jocelin turned to Sara Jane, her new co-captain. "Time to break open that trunk of goodies," she said...
TO BE CONTINUED