This is my second entry into the SinfulStories competition. The image comes from KinkyBikerMom
I suppose the most obvious thought that I should have been thinking, was that I hated teaching female students. As the lock snapped shut to incarcerate my hands behind my back, I should have been bemoaning the young ladies’ actions, concocting an escape plan or even wondering how I had fallen for such a simple ruse.
Alas, my mind was elsewhere: I was reliving my fantasies and wondering how far they would take me.
Their trap was devastatingly simple; Phoebe, the gorgeous innocent young Phoebe, with her jet black hair and low-cut top, rang my doorbell on the wet, windy evening. Who could suspect her of anything? “I had a little problem with my Maths exam, and was just passing and kinda wondered if … could you please explain it to me?”
“How did you know where I lived?”
“You mentioned that you lived opposite the war memorial in your lecture and don’t go out on Thursdays,” she replied immediately; I was impressed: She had been listening to my lessons!
“Sure, come in,” I said, eyeing the skin-tight white top that was soaked into translucency and a skirt that ended at where I started dreaming. She was dressed to get my attention, and I’d shamelessly admit it worked. I made her Earl Grey tea while I guided her through the Maths problem on the exam that had troubled her, when she asked to use the toilet. She let a dozen of her female classmates into my house while out of my sight.
I reasoned with them as they circled me in my own lounge, saying nothing as Phoebe walked towards me. “I don’t want to have to retake your exam,” she demanded. “None of us do. So, you’re going to change our scores so we don’t have to.”
“Get him!” She barked. Which was how my hands were restrained behind my back as the young ladies overpowered their Mathematics tutor. The white heat of her eyes bore into me as I refused her request for a second time and they ripped my shirt from my body, pausing only to giggle at my paunch, before slicing my trousers from my legs.
“This has gone quite far enough,” I cried, trying desperately to seize some authority from the demure Phoebe. Only, she wasn’t quite so demure any more; her quiet, shy personality had been banished by her fearsome leadership, commanding the situation with confident direction. I was putty in her hands, beholden to her will. And she knew it.
She pushed me forwards, watching me topple face-first into my musky cushions and swiping my underwear to my knees. The first blow of her weapon struck my buttocks with a deafening crack, swishing ominously through the air to inflict a white-hot stripe of pain across my exposed bottom. She cackled at my screams, repeated her demands and snapped at my failure to concede.
I could not concede. I was determined to retain my professional authority as they massacred my rear with repeated strikes of their cane. Pain swelled into agony; despair mutated into lustful kink. As much as I fought it, I couldn’t resist. I was floating, mindful to the humiliation, and revelling in it.
Here were University students, less than half my age, subjecting me to a torturous ordeal while blackmailing me, and I was agog with a dreamy lust not fear. I was swimming in their world of degradation, scarcely believing the depths to which I had fallen.
“Smile,” a buxom brunette called as my debauchery was captured on camera; barely struggling against my bounds as my musky cushion was replaced with Sally’s hairy cunt. If they thought I would yield by being forced to perform cunnilingus on a beautiful woman, then they were mistaken; she leant back, groaning as my tongue swept across her unnaturally moistened crack.
Which is when I tasted it; the uniquely flavoured taste of male cum, smothered against her crack. “Oh, you found it,” she giggled as I looked up at her. “Well my boyfriend and his friend, just wouldn’t take no for answer. That’s not a problem now, is it?”
A ridiculous question as I buried my face into her slimy crack; she had brought me an exquisite gift and I was not going to waste it. The sapid deliciousness of her cum-covered quivering quim, drove me to untold levels of horniness; the glow in my buttocks, the sizzle on my tongue, the humiliation in my mind made my cock as hard as it had been in months.
I was desperate to make her come, driving deep into her folds to extract every last drop of the cum, delighting in their unkind language at me. Phoebe spanked me harder, they forced my head into the last remnants of Sally’s crack, and pulled on my nipples, sending fiery pain to my lust. But nothing worked; every action took me further into the world of disgraceful debauchery and I would not yield. How could I, when they played out more and more of my fantasies with every refusal.
Even when Sally’s cunt was replaced with Paula’s anus, and they “forced” me to rim the young athlete, I refused. That was even better, the tight whorl of her bud textured under my tongue as I relished my debasement, all caught on camera.
I nearly shot my load, as Phoebe slid a dildo into my rectum, and then replaced it with her strap-on, crying obscenities as the fake dong glided past my resistance. She squealed, she promised to fuck me “like a virgin on prom night.”
I taunted her to do her worst!
Or should that be her best; my prostate danced to her dildo’s tune, stroked by the intruding sex toy into a fierce glow of insatiable desire. I wanted more. I wanted her to go faster, harder and deeper. I wanted her to drive her sex toy past every ounce of resistance and to not stop until I was begging for mercy. And I wanted the entire class to see it; to see their respectable Maths tutor turned into a quivering wreck and a worthless slut to their classmate.
Phoebe didn’t disappoint as my young student rammed her cock against my prostate and I slid towards orgasm. I was there, so close, so near and so very horny.
And still I wouldn’t yield as Phoebe jerked my shaft until I spewed several waves of cum onto her hand with an explosive grunt. She made me eat it, as her friend kicked my balls. I screamed in agony, as she smashed her foot into my soft testicles for a second time. I could take no more of their torture and surrendered before her friend got to kick for a third time.
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” I cried, anticipating another smash at my dangling balls. “Please stop it! And give me the pictures.”
“We’ll keep copies,” Phoebe replied and glanced at her friend by my computer. “Insurance, in case you change your mind after we’ve gone.”
“Non-negotiable. Now what’s the password … or we play kick the balls again!”
I turned and watched as my supplied credentials were used to login to the University system and update all of their exam marks. Phoebe left me a copy of the images on my computer so I knew how bad they were, but I wasn’t too bothered: if the truth got out, I would be sacked for changing the marks and the girls would be expelled for assault. We all had a reason to maintain silence.
“I heard your sister did well in her finals,” I said to Phoebe as my hands were removed from the handcuffs and I massaged my swollen balls. “Pass on my regards!”
The ringleader giggled as I shivered naked in front of them, pointlessly hiding my dignity with my hands. “Yeah, will do, Sir.”
“And Sally. You have a sister in next year’s class, right?”
“Then it would be irresponsible if you told her about tonight. We wouldn’t want her knowing that I change marks if a dozen young ladies tie me up and subject me to abject humiliation, would we?”
“Maybe not, Sir,” Sally replied, smiling broadly. The girls had been getting more inventive and sadistic over the years, and Sally’s sister was utterly gorgeous: I could barely wait for her to subject me to an evening’s torture.
I love teaching female students.