Loading...“You’ll have to take Sex Education today for 4C, Miss Martin.”
Just the words I’d been longing to hear, I don’t think.
“Why me? Doesn’t Mrs Annot take that?”
“Normally,” said the Principal with a grin, “but she just called in sick and you’re the only one with free time for that period. Don’t worry. The kids are only around fifteen. You can handle then with no problems.”
“Oh, no worries normally,” I agreed, “but, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that moron Carlos in 4C? And he’s not fifteen by a long shot.”
“Yes, Carlos is in 4C and I’ll admit he’s been held back a few times but you shouldn’t call him a moron.”
True, I shouldn’t. Why insult morons? Carlos was eighteen and labouring under the weight of a huge ego. I’d tell him to his face that he was a dumb, insensitive jerk, but he wouldn’t know what I meant.
The sex ed. class was the last class of the day. That made taking it doubly annoying, because with no duties for that period I could normally go home early. Still, his lordship had spoken and I had to do or die.
Now I’m only in my early twenties. Having to get up in front of a bunch of sniggering teenagers and do sex ed. was not high on my list of favourite pastimes, but I fronted up manfully and went about the task. The killer look and nasty snarl I gave at the first snigger helped, reminding the class that I did have a certain reputation as being the wrong teacher to annoy.
I was quite gratified to find that Carlos just sat back with a bored look on his face and said nothing. He’d undoubtedly sat through this class before. Several times probably, without learning anything.
All in all the class went quite well and I was feeling quite pleased with myself as I dismissed everyone. As it was the day’s final class everyone piled out fast while I gathered my things together.
Someone coughed and I looked up to see Carlos standing there. That immediately struck me as odd because it was home time and I’d never known Carols to voluntarily speak to a teacher. It also struck me that he had a real smirk on his face.
It suddenly dawned on me that I was alone with Carlos in what is really quite a secluded classroom. I also remembered hearing one of the students telling another girl to make sure she was never alone with Carlos. She also had a second piece of advice that I couldn’t quite remember, but for some reason it was nagging at my mind.
I put on my teacher persona and gave Carlos a professional smile.
“Yes, Carlos? Is there something you want?”
“Um, yes, Miss Martin. I’ve got a couple of question about the sex education.”
Actually, I’m paraphrasing what he said and shall continue to do so. What he actually said was more in the order of “I got questions about this fucking stuff”.
“And what is it you want to know?”
“What does a guy do if his cock is too big for a girl?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“If a guy’s got a big cock and the girl is tiny, what happens?”
“Nature allows for that,” I told him. “The woman’s passage can expand quite a bit. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“But what if,” he says, unzipping and hauling out his cock, fully erect, “he’s big like this. How can a woman handle that?”
I gave his erection a disparaging look. It wasn’t that big. Struggling to make average in my opinion, but then again, I wasn’t viewing it through his enormous ego.
“Don’t worry. You’ll have no problems. Now I have to go.”
“Hold on. Hold on. You’re my teacher. You’re supposed to help if I got questions. I thought you could give me a practical exam.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Geez, it’s simple. You let me stick this in you so that I can see if it actually goes in. Don’t worry. I won’t actually fuck you. I’ll just take it out once I’m satisfied it fits.”
He had to be fucking kidding me. As a matter of fact, that’s precisely what I said to him.
“You have to be fucking kidding. Take yourself and your teeny weenie and get the hell out of here or you’ll be in detention so long that you’ll have a long white beard when you get out.”
With that I turned away from him to gather up my things and get myself the hell out of there. That’s when I remembered the second thing that girl had been telling her friend. If you’re ever alone with Carlos, don’t turn your back on him. The very thing that I’d just done.
I promptly found out why you shouldn’t turn your back on Carlos if you’re alone with him. I’m quite slender and I was wearing slacks. They suit me, showing off what I consider to be a nice trim figure. There is an optional belt that goes with them and sometimes I wear it and sometimes I don’t. Today was a day when I’d gone with ‘don’t’.
Before I could really understand what was going on Carlos had a hold of my slacks and had given them a solid heave down. There was enough give in the waistband that it stretched and popped over my hips and my slacks were heading south. I froze with shock for a second, time which Carlos promptly used to persuade my panties to join my slacks.
By then I was fighting mad, although hampered by slacks and panties being down around my knees. Carlos was trying to force me to bend over the teacher’s table and I was trying not to and struggling to turn around and kick him right where it would do the most good.
It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever been happy to hear a school principal bellowing.
“What the hell’s going on here?”
Carlos and I both froze, and then I relaxed, feeling giddy with relief.
“Ah, I was just about to give Miss Martin the practical exam she wanted,” Carlos said, and I heard his feet hit the floor running.
I was just reaching down to pull up my panties and slacks, red with embarrassment and anger, when my bottom exploded. At least that’s what it felt like. I squealed in shock and then squealed again as there was another explosion.
I was able to identify the explosion this time. It was the hand of the Principal, spanking my bottom. What the hell? I wasn’t left to wonder for long.
“How dare you, Miss Martin,” he thundered at me, delivering another resounding spank.
“We show respect for our students here,” he told me. “We do not take advantage of our position to seduce them. You disgrace the school by your actions. Don’t try to interrupt me. I’m very disappointed in you. You should be ashamed of yourself. It’s not as though there aren’t male teachers available if you must scratch an itch.”
He didn’t actually say it all in one little speech like that. He took care to emphasise each point with a good hearty spank to my poor bottom. I tried to tell him he was making a mistake, but how the hell are you supposed to catch your breath and say something coherent when your bum is on fire. The only time I managed to get out a couple of words I got an extra hard spank for interrupting.
The Principal finally stopped spanking me, much to the relief of my poor battered bottom. I was panting and trying to catch my breath, because I’d been doing a fair bit of squealing while that spanking went on. I mean, that hurt.
Before I could gather my breath to explain, the Principal started up again. Oh, not spanking me. He’d already done that. He had something else in mind.
“If you’re so desperate for this that you’ll chase the students, let me help you out,” he said.
This whacking great cock started pushing its way into me. Carlos should worry about having a big cock. All he had to do is look at the Principal’s cock and all his worries would be laid to rest. He’d be able to fret over having a small cock, instead.
You can imagine my consternation at having my pussy invaded by what felt like the Mongolian hordes. I was squealing and protesting and I still hadn’t managed to get out any sort of explanation. What was even worse, my pussy must have decided that the spanking was foreplay and it was hot and wet, permitting easy entry. Or what would have been easy entry for a normal cock. I’ll swear that the Principal must have been oversize, not that I ever wanted to see it to check. I was going purely on feel and my god, it felt huge.
I’m squealing and squawking, telling him to stop, and all the time I’m doing this I can feel him, sliding slowly into me, and I’m being stretched and warped all out of shape and I was sure my poor pussy would never be the same again.
Then I felt his hairy groin pressed against me and realise that he’s in as far as he’s going to go in, thank god. I finally take a deep breath and manage to get out a bit of an explanation.
“I was not trying to seduce Carlos. The little shit was trying to rape me and I was fighting him off when you arrived. Why the hell do you think he ran and why else would I nearly have collapsed from shock?”
“Oh. You’re saying I got it wrong?”
“Bingo, you imbecile. Now take your cock out of me. I thought you’d arrived to help me. Not assault me.”
“Hmm. That’s unfortunate. I probably shouldn’t have smacked your tail in that case.”
“That’s for sure. Um, your cock?”
“It seems to be that we’ll have to tell Carlos that he is no longer a member of this school. He’ll go quietly if he thinks charges may be laid.”
“As long as something is done about him. Or to him, if possible. Ah, your cock. You’ve still got it inside me.”
“Oh, yes. So I have.”
I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt him pulling out. That changed to a gasp of shock when I felt him pushing back in.
“What are you doing?” I gasped. “I want you to take it out.”
“You’re not thinking the situation through, Miss Martin,” I was calmly informed. “I mean, I’m already in you so why not just carry through to the end. A lot better for both of us instead of me pulling out now and leaving us both feeling frustrated and hostile to each other.”
The Principal was now moving quite steadily, pulling out and returning forcefully, driving home like a man who has possession and intends to keep it. I was just the one being possessed and you can imagine how I felt when I found my hips were bobbing to his tune, pushing me firmly onto his intruding cock when it came charging in.
I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him calmly and logically why this whole thing was a bad idea and why he should stop it immediately. My logic was impeccable and I ticked off the items one by one, providing an unbeatable case. Unfortunately, my delivery suffered slightly, due to his fucking cock driving into me. What I sounded like was more along these lines.
Gasp. (A big intake of breath to start with.) “You, aaah, I, oh my god, wrong, wow,” (That was caused by him slamming home extra hard for some reason) “have to, aah, oh fuck me,” (that was supposed to be a protest, not an encouragement) “oh my god,” (a bit more frantic gasping at this point) “you can’t” (oh yes he bloody well could – and was) “ah, ah, ah,” (for some reason he decided to do a few quick strokes before settling down to his original rhythm) “shouldn’t, aaah,” (he’d just reached up under my top, flicked open my bra and grabbed my breasts and was squeezing them in time to his fucking me) “oh fuck you, fuck me, oh my god I can’t stand it.” (That last was another protest. Again, someone seemed to see it as encouragement and went in even harder.)
With calm logic proving useless the only options I had left were a determined struggle or acquiescence. When you’re bent over a table, with a big man pinning you there with his dick, you’re chances of struggling are pretty much zero. Any struggling I did seemed like wriggling in ecstasy on his dick and just provided more encouragement, showing what a fantastic cocksman he was. So that left me riding out the storm, while he just pumped me for all he was worth.
Now I will admit, reluctantly, that the whole thing was rather exciting and arousing. I was helpless, being ruthlessly mastered by a man who was taking his pleasure, and he was doing a pretty good job of it. If asked, I’d have said I don’t find spankings arousing, but the fact that he’d just up and spanked me had excited me, despite any wishes I might have had on the subject. Then just taking me without so much as a ‘by your leave’ had seemed to excite me even more.
The result of this was that although I was a reluctant participant in what was happening I didn’t seem to be acting like it. My hips were pushing firmly against him, meeting him as he thrust into me. My bottom (bright red from the spanking no doubt) was probably bobbing up and down like crazy, because he hadn’t chosen a slow and gentle rhythm. He’d got down to business right from the word go, and was really giving it to me. (I’m pretty sure that I squealed ‘no’ when he first started, not ‘go’, but go was what he did.) He was going at me so hot and heavy that I was amazed that he hadn’t blown his cork after the first few strokes.
I have to admit that the man was talented, even if I was the victim of his talent. He’d rapidly brought me to a state of high excitement and effortlessly seemed able to hold me there, squirming and squealing and bucking under him as he ravished my poor body. How he kept me from exploding into an orgasm I’ll never know, but he seemed content to just keep me in suspense.
After a while I didn’t care about his intentions or whether he should be doing this or not or even if I was enjoying it or not. I wanted him to finish. Not stop, for god’s sake, but to finish. I was squealing and pleading now, begging him to finish it, to go in harder and let me have the relief my body was screaming for. I was almost screaming myself, for that matter.
Bastard just ignored me, didn’t he? After all, why should he listen now when he hadn’t earlier? He just kept on pounding in at the same rate, driving me to the point of madness, going on and on. At the same time his cock was driving home his hands would be squeezing my breasts and rubbing the nipples. My breasts were now so tender that I could feel every little touch, ripples of excitement egging me on, and all I could do was groan and squirm, bottom bouncing to his command.
When he finally decided that the time was right to finish up I was a blubbering wreck. Or at least I would have been if I’d had the strength to blubber. I was quivering all over and when he started moving faster and really driving home I just went up in flames. I didn’t scream when I climaxed. I didn’t have the strength for that. I just exploded and died and came raining back down in little pieces that left me oozing down onto the table. If he hadn’t still been behind me, his cock propping me up, I’d have just been a puddle on the floor.
He waited until I had some strength in my legs and then disengaged.
“Not bad,” he told me. “I enjoyed that.”
My strength was filtering back into me now. I felt tired but exhilarated, my climax seeming to have supercharged my batteries. It was at this point that I was able to do what teachers everywhere dream about.
I punched the Pricipal on the nose.