Author: rebellingpansies
👺”this is the 5th time this creep has stopped by this month…oh well there’s no point fighting the inevitable.”
She always had such depraved thoughts. While
other girls dutifully did their homework, and studied, she would find herself
grinding against her school-chair in heat. Of course, her teacher understood just
how veritably helpless she could be. He would watch her blank expressions in
class, the glazed look of need coupled with the rosy hue of arousal coloring
her cheeks. She was a young thing that simply
needed to learn how to lay down and spread her legs.So, he took her under his wing and set to work
training her malleable little mind and body. She was after all so eager to
please.“From now on, anytime that little cunt of yours
gets wet, I want you to remove your panties,” he demanded. “I don’t care if we
are in the middle of class, you are to slide off your panties and spread your
legs so that I know your cunt is in heat, and needs to be spread open and
fucked, understand? You’ll never get anywhere in life if you don’t know how to
properly beg.”She mewled beneath him, leaning into his kisses
as he explored her sloppy cunt with his long fingers. The digits came out
slicked and coated with her juice, which he scissored carefully between each
finger.“Judging by how desperate you are right now, you’ll
be taking off those panties quite a bit. It’s almost a waste for a slut like
you to wear such things at all.” Still he loved to see her shy expression as
she lowered them in the presence of her peers. She’d make a good toy someday,
but not much beyond that.
They were watching the video of her ‘performance’ the previous evening, vastly entertained, commenting on her sweet, tearful efforts to accommodate that enormous cock into her sex, working her hips, spreading her legs over the big man’s lap as wide as she could, mewing as she writhed over his naked fat body, so gross and hairy, until it was buried inside her, her hips jerking helplessly, his hands pinching and twisting at her stiff nipples, suddenly obviously needy, desperate, hungry for sexual release, mewling and crying, working herself towards an orgasm that shamed and devastated her, yelping her unwanted pleasure, crying and twitching.
The young one was saying; ‘I’ll bet she faked it, the little tart – good for business, the whore’.
There was no escaping it; it was glorious to be in this position, quivering with mingled apprehension and sexual tension.
Her hips wanted to, and she let them surge upwards, feeling her lower lips peel a little apart, offering her soft intimacy to the visitor, the stranger, who must be the on they call the Colonel, in his uniform, his square-cut moustache, his shining boots, his swagger stick.
He puts the sole of his heavy leather boot full on her sex and grins a little at her.
“Down, bitch.”
She can’t suppress a weak little whimper, and he laughs briefly, before walking on past her.
It is utterly ridiculous, she tries to tell herself, to fall in love so quickly.
Within Reason 