Anna's Plan

Anna want to be popular in school and succeed, sort of...

Anna sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop screen glowing in the dark. The video playing was raw, explicit—a girl on her knees, mouth stretched around a thick cock, slurping and gagging while the guy moaned. Anna's eyes widened. That's it, she thought. That's how you get popular.

She'd never been noticed. In the hallways, she was invisible. At lunch, she ate alone. No one talked to her, no one looked at her. But if she gave them something they wanted—something no other girl in eighth grade was offering—they'd have to notice. They'd want her.

The school trip to Pine Ridge Camp was three days away. Perfect.

The bus ride was loud, chaotic. Boys shoved each other in the seats, girls gossiped in clusters. Anna sat in the back, heart hammering. She'd worn a skirt—short, pink, bought with her allowance. She'd practiced in front of the mirror, pouting her lips, running her tongue along her teeth.

Her target was Jake Morrison. He was tall, popular, quarterback of the middle school team. He sat three rows ahead, laughing with his friends.

At the camp, after the orientation, they had free time. Anna found Jake near the cabins, kicking a soccer ball with a few guys. She walked up, feigning a lost look.

"Hey, Jake? Can I talk to you for a sec? It's important."

He rolled his eyes, but followed her behind the toolshed. "What?"

She didn't answer. She dropped to her knees, fumbled with his jeans, pulled out his cock—already half-hard. Before he could react, she took him in her mouth.

"Whoa—what the fuck—" His protest died as she sucked, copying the video. She bobbed her head, tongue swirling the tip. His hands gripped her hair, not pushing her away, just gripping.

"Shit," he breathed. "That's... keep going."

She did. She took him deep, gagging but pushing through. In minutes, he groaned, his hips bucking, and hot cum shot into her throat. She swallowed, pulling off with a slick pop.

Jake stared down at her, dazed. "Damn, Anna. Where'd you learn that?"

She wiped her mouth, smiled nervously. "Just... wanted you to like me."

He grinned, zipped up. "Yeah, I like you. Come find me tonight at the bonfire."

---

Word spread fast. By the bonfire, half the boys in the grade were looking at her differently. Whispers followed her. Anna felt a thrill—she was being seen. One by one, they came to her. First, it was three boys behind the rec hall. She blew them all, one after the other, their cum coating her tongue, her chin, her tits. Then it was five. Then eight.

But they wanted more.

"Just a blowjob?" Dylan, a wiry Asian kid with glasses, sneered. "That's for amateurs. You want to be popular? Let us fuck you."

Anna's stomach flipped. She hadn't planned for that. But they were all looking at her—expecting, hungry. If she said no, it'd be over. She'd be nothing again.

"Okay," she whispered. "But not all at once."

They didn't listen.

They took her to an empty cabin—the one reserved for the counselors, but the counselors were drunk by the campfire. The door clicked shut, and Anna was surrounded. Hands on her, pulling her skirt down, yanking her panties off. Someone pushed her onto the musty mattress.

"Spread your legs," someone ordered. She did.

Cock after cock pushed into her. First was Dylan, his thin shaft sliding into her pussy—she wasn't wet, it hurt, but she bit her lip and let him. He fucked her fast, grunting, and pulled out to come on her belly. Then Matt, then Kevin, then two boys she didn't even know. They took turns, one in her mouth, one in her cunt, one shoving into her ass. She gasped, choked, tears streaming, but she kept saying yes.

"I want it," she moaned, because that's what she thought they needed to hear. "Fuck me, please."

They came inside her. Hot jets filled her pussy, dripping down her thighs. One boy came on her face, another in her mouth. She swallowed automatically. The cabin smelled of sweat and sex and cum.

By midnight, every boy in the eighth grade had been inside her. Some twice. She lost count of the loads—dozens, maybe more. Her body was a mess, cum leaking from every hole, her hair matted, her throat raw. But when it was over, they patted her head, called her a good girl, and told her she was awesome.

---

Monday came. Anna walked into school, and the whispers were different. "That's the slut," someone said, but it wasn't mean—it was almost proud. Boys high-fived each other, looked at her with a knowing smirk. Girls gave her sidelong glances, some jealous, some disgusted.

She was popular. Not the way she'd imagined—no best friends, no lunch table invites—but known. Everyone knew her name. Everyone wanted to talk to her, to touch her, to ask if she'd do them too.

Anna sat alone at lunch again, but this time it was different. She wasn't invisible. She was the slut. And in a way, that was exactly what she'd wanted.