Frances snapped her fingers in Dee-Dee’s face. “Up!”

Fumbling for a handhold to pull herself up, the long, tall girl finally curled herself up and rolled into the aisle, rising from her knees.

“Out.”

Dee-Dee strained to find a convenient way to slide past Frances without touching her: she stood in the aisle like a guardian statue, with a fire burning in her eyes.

Frances grabbed Rachael by the shoulders, spun her around, and pushed her backward into the bus seat. She banged her head against the wall and rubbed it with a long, slow “ow-w-w-w…” Frances snapped her fingers at Jenice, who turned on the camera and started filming Rachael, writhing and soothing herself, and Frances, who had snapped at Ariana to fetch the bottle of bottom-shelf liqueur. Frances tugged off her other sock, feeling a little dumb about just wearing one all this time, and pitched it back at her bag. She planted her right foot upon the bus seat between Rachael’s knees. “You. Undress, now.”

The team clenched as a unit. “Right here, on the bus?” Ariana gasped behind her captain. “That’s a little too far, isn’t it? What if someone comes back here and sees that?”

Frances only turned her head enough to examine Ariana with one eye. Ariana cowered beneath the examination and curled up in her own seat.

“I don’t want to.” Rachael’s face was screwed up. She held her head with both hands.

“Undress now,” Frances said, the woman who did not repeat herself.

“That’s embarrassing.” If Rachael hadn’t had so much cheap booze in her untrained belly, she would never have dared to speak thus to her captain, and part of Frances seemed to permit this. But Frances also had an image to maintain, and if she appeared weak to the other girls, they might… well, let them try. Frances sniffed. Sure. If they think that how she treats Rachael is a new rule, they can go ahead and try that later, and see what happens then. Even Frances didn’t know. It would be a journey of exploration they would take together.

It was as though all the girls heard this in their own heads, the chill, unemotional taunt. They would never try anything later.

Frances stepped back and nodded at Dee-Dee, who leaped into action as though she were waiting for her part to play. With long, grasping fingers, she made quick work of Rachael’s garments, yanking the tight blue shorts down and her underwear with them. Tugging the white sports shirt over her head was more of a struggle, with Rachael flinging her arms drunkenly about, but off it came regardless. There was another similar, but much smaller, fight to take off her sports bra. Rachael covered her chest with thin forearms and tried to close her thighs, but Frances kept her foot mounted between her thighs and Rachael, even drunken Rachael, knew better than to touch the captain if it were unavoidable.

Frances slid her foot up to Rachael crotch, spread her toes and sprinkled them with schnapps, handing the bottle off to Dee-Dee. She hopped up into the bus seat’s space. Jenice hovered dutifully, keeping the smartphone’s shadow out of frame as she documented Frances’s finely sculpted foot lifted from Rachael’s lightly furred crotch, sliding up her sensitive, shivering belly, until she splayed her toes over Rachael’s pursed lips.

Frances stared at the littler woman trying to turn her head, while unwilling to offend the more powerful woman by successfully wrenching away. “Lick them,” Frances said, a little louder than normal, to ensure she wouldn’t have to repeat herself. Being shit-faced was only excusable for so long.

Rachael’s thin, dark brows peaked to a truly sorrowful effect as she stared up the tan shin. “Please don’t make me,” she slurred, and Frances took the opportunity to wriggle her toes between Rachael’s incisors. With a chest-racking sob, Rachael admitted the toes into her mouth and sucked on the second and third. Fortunately, the skin tasted like sweet schnapps instead of sock or sweaty shoe… oh, that’s right. They all showered after the game. Frances was fastidious in her personal hygiene, and she didn’t play in the shoes she wore home. Small blessings! It was less horrific for Rachael to suckle her captain’s, under these conditions, but… still not ideal. Sucking on another girl’s toes, in front of the whole team? While naked as the day she was born? She was about to exploit the university’s resources for pursuing therapy next week.

Still. The toes weren’t horrible. Everything about Frances was nicely shaped. She won the genetic lottery, that was clear, and that heightened her charisma and leadership skills. Rachael closed her eyes, blocking out the crappy antique ceiling lights, Jenice’s leering and predatory face, and Frances’s ROTG (resting Old Testament God) face. Rachael slipped her tongue between second and third toes and felt all of the toes flex and twitch around her mouth. So, she was a little ticklish. Rather than using that against her, Rachael tried to avoid tickling her again, slipping her tongue very slowly along the underside of her toes. She turned her head to the right, widened her mouth, and took in the fourth toe as well. Her lips locked around their base knuckles, the better to let her suck the liqueur off her skin as much as possible. Without thinking, Rachael even gently placed her fingertips upon the outside of Frances’s foot and guided her pinky toe into her mouth to cleanse it as well. The touch should have been forbidden, but Rachael wasn’t in her right mind and perhaps Frances wanted to see a good job be done.

Lastly, she had to suck her own spittle off the four darling little toes and take Frances’s big toe into her mouth. “She’s really getting into this, Frances,” said Jenice, looking briefly away to grin at her captain. “Shit, it looks pretty good. Maybe she can do mine after this.” It was a joke, Jenice thought it would be funny, but along with other isolated incidents this night, saying that out loud stung her pussy with a strange little tingle.

Frances bent down to nearly rest her chest upon her thigh, of the leg whose foot Rachael was servicing at this moment. She brought forward the tiny man, who Rachael had clean forgotten about in all this humiliation. She nearly stopped nursing Frances’s big toe when she saw Frances place him upon her chest. Frances rolled him to his back and slid him through the streak of schnapps to one of Rachael’s little boobs. “Make out with her tit, little man. Get her excited.” Her fingertip was planted upon his chest just like her heel rested upon Rachael’s.

“He doesn’t wanna do it!” This delighted Jenice to say, who was baffled by the wave of warm-fuzzies that the frail little woman was engendering in her teammates. She wanted to get back to the cruelty. Magnified on her smartphone camera, the shrunken figure was looking up with an expression of horror and shaking his head.

“I don’t care what he wants,” Frances said plainly. She rolled him to his front and shoved his face into one of Rachael’s nipples, a little brown pool in creamy white bodyscape. He’d been here before, of course, but it had been Rachael forcing him into her tit, and at that time she didn’t have intoxication to excuse for her behavior.

Rachael began sobbing around Frances’s big toe, and she turned her head to pull it out and speak. “Please don’t make him do this. I don’t want him there, I don’t want him doing that. I’ll suck all your toes, just please don’t make him.”

Frances exercised her preternatural ability to radiate the sense that not only hadn’t she heard anything, but nothing had been spoken, for all intents and purposes. She pressed her fingertip into the tiny man’s lower back, harder than necessary, and by this she made it known she would have no problem snapping his idiot spine. Would they return a broken and thoroughly used-up little man to his wife, or would they simply dump him in the trash? Reluctantly, he propped himself upon his elbows, which dug easily into the soft flesh of Rachael’s young breast, and his little head bobbed over and over in a small circle. To Jenice and Frances and anyone else who watched, the gesture was so slight and limited, it might as well have been an insect cleaning itself.

Rachael, however, felt the hot little tongue lapping around her nipple. It wasn’t arousing, just like it hadn’t been arousing to jam his head into her nipple at the start of the ride. Were her nipples dead to being stimulated? She supposed that would only work in a tender, intimate environment, if she ever found a special man to try that out with. It was probably that she was terrified and humiliated, profoundly vulnerable to a pack of hyenas in the back of a school bus, one of the least sexy environments she could imagine. Of course a little guy, shivering in fear, wasn’t going to turn her on. She brushed her incisors behind the large joint of Frances’s big toe, testing in her mind whether she could actually bite through it. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and no one was coming to Rachael’s rescue. But what would be step two, after biting her toe off, and what was the alternate plan if she couldn’t do it?

Oh, there. What was that? Rachael sucked cool air around Frances’s wet toe; her thick toenail scraped the roof of her mouth. Rachael closed her eyes, hoping all to hell that the little man couldn’t successfully turn her on in this middle of all this.

“He’s really going to town,” Jenice said, bringing the camera down, almost next to him. He had brought himself up to all fours and was lapping at her nipple like a wolf at a pool of clean water. His little paunch hung and shuddered with his actions, and Jenice made sure to get a shot of his wrinkled balls and microscopic penis hanging under his sagging buttocks. Her snickering didn’t distract him from his cause, however. He seemed to believe Frances would let them go if he could get her stimulated, though this made as little sense as anything else that had actually happened. “Holy shit… is he crying?”

Frances looked up from the sordid tableau and watched as Jenice replayed the last few seconds for her. “He’s crying! He’s licking Rachael’s nipple and crying!” Jenice’s laughter rang through the back of the bus. “This is perfect! What a fucking loser! This is some sick shit.”

Ariana could only see Frances’s ass and thigh blocking Rachael’s nudity, and she had no glimpse of the shrunken man at all. She watched Jenice swiveling around to get better shots and gloat about it to Frances. Dee-Dee stood to the side, respectfully near in case she was needed; Mona only blocked the aisle with a slight frown. If her habitual silence made her seem mysterious and distant before, there was a feeling around her that indicated she was lost deep within her own thoughts.

“Dee-Dee,” Frances said, and the tall girl was there. “He’s not going any good there. Put him somewhere more useful. He has to make her climax.”

Dee-Dee reached for him, then hesitated. “Wait, you want me to put him… where?”

Frances said nothing, only stared at Dee-Dee, who withered slightly. She seized the tiny man in her fist and nearly slapped him against Rachael’s pussy. “Get to it, li’l guy,” she whispered, mashing his head into the tidy pink clit before him.

Again, he appeared to call something back to her, pleading something or other. Dee-Dee’s head hovered beside him, straining to make out anything he was saying. “It’s no good, I can’t hear a fucking thing you’re saying. Just, you know, make her cum.” She knuckled his spine, grinding him up and down the weaker girl’s lips. He seized fistfuls of her pubic hair and she cried out, nearly causing her to gag on Frances’s big toe in the back of her throat. As before, it was a couple moments before the little man showed any activity, which was looking for a foothold anywhere in reach. As soon as his foot slipped inside her, he yanked it out immediately and gave up the hunt. All he could do was hang by one arm and try to rub her labia with the other.

Jenice rounded the seat and shouldered Dee-Dee out of the way. “This is pathetic” was her estimation when the camera focused on him. “He’s not even doing anything, just wiping her down like she’s dusty. Come on, guy, get into it. Make her cum or you’re fucking dead.”

She chuckled at the appalled expression he shot back at the camera, but nonetheless he flattened his little body over the perfect folds of pink tissue and skin, as though trying to mash himself into them. No one was helping now, it was all him and his own imagination. He tried grinding his hips into her inner folds, and that went about as badly as could be expected, even without Jenice’s color commentary. He wasn’t sure what to do with his legs: he brought them up, trying to rub her labia with his knees, and that didn’t really achieve anything. Grimacing away from the camera, at last he finally slipped one foot into her hot, sticky entrance and braced himself. Grabbing more hair, he anchored himself securely and opened his jaws as wide as they could go, in order to suckle her little clit into his mouth.

“No! Don’t!” Rachael screamed around the thick toe in her mouth. She was afraid to buck in rejection of the sensation, worried about throwing the little man off the seat and having something horrible happen to him; odds are Frances’s foot would have kept her in place anyway. She cried around her captain’s toe, “Please, don’t do this to me. Make him stop, take him away. He doesn’t deserve this.” Her enunciation was almost incomprehensible, of course, due to Frances’s toe, but Frances wasn’t curious about an alternate viewpoint, and not curious enough to take her toe out of the little woman’s mouth.

Jenice looked up at Frances, towering over her, giving her a vague sense of what the world looked like to the little man. “This really isn’t working,” she said, lowering the camera. “He can’t do anything, and she’s… not responding.”

Frances closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have another idea. Roll her over.”