"Geez...tonight's the district tournament and I'm all out of my tampax. I must have taken the last one from my locker and left the empty box," wailed a short, frizzy haired girl with freckles.
About five other girls voiced similar complaints. The locker room vending machine which hadn't been empty of tampons in years was dry for the first time in recorded Beaver High School history.
A benevolently dirty idea crept into my head. I could satiate my desire and fulfill my civic duty at the same time. Not only that, but I could push the limits of my machine to new levels.
I unmorphed from the locker room bench and concentrated my mind on a box of tampax that I would always see during the middle of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And yes, straight guys do watch that show. Sarah Michelle Gellar is HOT...but I digress.
Instantly, one of the girls let out a celebratory whoop as she noticed me on the bench. My lid was ripped open revealing six wrapped tampons ready for moisture preventing insertion. Greedy hands ripped away the packaging and I was brought into six different bathroom stalls.
It wasn't like there were six different versions of me getting shoved delicately into young pussies. There was only one me, but I was experiencing things in ways no man had ever experienced anything. Each tampon was merely a part of who I was, as were the wrappers and tampon box, which I dissolved once no one was looking. They were like appendages and the concept of me, who i was, was simply sitting back and enjoying the insides of six clean, virgin cunts.
I said before I had issues. Now you can probably see that for yourselves.
Once shoved up and ready to protect the pristine uniforms from the deadly menstrual cycle, the girls loaded bus and shipped off to districts.
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