School Conquering Stud

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markydaysaid
markydaysaid
1,621 Followers

Even in high heels I knew I could be a deadly martial artist. My mother trained me in a particular form of mixed martial arts that was perfect for women as it incorporated things like handbags, long nails, and especially high heeled shoes as weapons.

I shot off a couple quick jabs at his face. He dodged one and blocked the other easily, laughing at me, but those jabs had only been meant to be feints. All my muscle was in my core and my legs, so I'd be using those to destroy this bitch. I launched out my knee, striking him in the upper leg. Her cursed a little and fell onto the knee of the leg I just hit. Using the extra height I now had, I brought my elbow down and stuck him hard on the temple. I was playing rough, normally a strike like that could kill a man, but Scagliotti was only stunned by it. I tied both of my hand together into one big fist and brought it down on the crown of his skull, and I knew that hurt him.

I tried to punch him right in the nose, hoping to break it, but her caught my fist and crushed it in his mighty paw. I grunted in pain and knew that I was in for a world of hurt. He intentionally fell backwards, dragging me down with him, and his feet kicked into my stomach with a painful thud. As he completed his backward roll he sent my flying through the air, landing painfully on my back at the other end of the living room.

I tried to get up first but he beat me to it. Before I could stand up all the way he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to my feet, his other hand painfully gripping my ass. He then threw me again, this time into a wall so hard that my body almost went through it. I just stood there in the depression of the broken wall, too stunned to move, but when my senses returned I saw him standing in front of me, stroking the giant cock of his.

The retard must have thought he had beaten me already. I proved him wrong by bringing up my right knee and hitting him square in the balls. The look of pain on his face was the most satisfying thing I had ever seen. I fully extended the same leg to do a high kick, the sharp heel of my shoe striking him in the cheek.

His face was bleeding a little as he stumbled back, still clutching his bruised balls. Using the wall for support I let loose a flurry of fast kicks with the same leg, striking him as much as fifteen times in less than five seconds. He just stood there like a deer in the headlights as I pummeled him. When I finished he was bleeding from a dozen small cuts on his chest, abs, and face.

I smirked at him, and then pivoted on the leg I had just been using. With all my strength (which was a considerable amount) I launched out my other foot in a powerful straight kick. I swear to God it was powerful enough to leave a dent in a steel safe, and it hit Scagliotti right in the middle of his chest.

He was launched through the air like a doll, landing painfully on the dirty table in the middle of his living room. The table broke beneath him, and shards of wood and broken glass flew all over the room. The crash of his landing was so loud I bet the whole neighborhood heard it. He just laid there, his muscular body beaten into submission, and I knew he was out cold.

I strutted over his body like a stripper on a catwalk, waving my hips like a slut. I was putting on the show for myself really. Power made me feel sexy, and defeating this much stronger young man made me feel incredibly powerful.

I stood over his chest, each of my feet on either side of him, and looked down at my new bitch. I was so wet that drops of my honey were falling from my soaked panties and raining on his sexy pectorals. I had never felt so fucking horny in my entire life. It wasn't even touching myself but it still felt like my whole body was experiencing a long, subtle orgasm. I squatted down on his chest and sat on him, giggling like a little girl as I glided my wet mound over his hard chest. He was still breathing, but his face was blank. I leaned all the way down so that my tits were resting on his warm chest, and I licked the blood and sweat off his face. It was sweet.

I whispered into his ear, "That was fun, but I don't even let my husband fuck me unless I'm the one in charge. Principal Cox in the only person alive who gets to rape me, but her time is coming, and soon I'll be the one on top." I kissed him lightly on the lips. "You got close to it though, you got real close to making me your slut, and I can't forgive you for that."

In one liquid motion I slithered off of him and got behind his head. The back of his head was resting right on my swollen, leaking pussy, and my strong legs were wrapped around his neck. I began to squeeze, both choking him and rubbing the back of his head against my very aroused cunt.

"I'm going to kill you," I said aloud, even though he couldn't hear me, "and I'm going to cum as I do it. Your death is going to serve as an example to all those little sluts and dicks at school that I am in charge. After this I'll be ready to rip Cox in half, and then I'll finally be Principal of that fucking school."

As I squeezed my long legs together I felt his body trying to breathe, but I was cutting off all of his air supply. He began to struggle, which felt incredible against my swollen pussy. With every second I would squeeze harder, which made him struggle more, which got me closer and closer to what was sure to be my most explosive orgasm ever. I was trying to time it so he'd die about the same time I came. I couldn't afford to climax too soon because I knew that the orgasm I was about to have would be so powerful it would likely knock me out for a few hours. Although, I suppose that the orgasm would be powerful enough that I might simply snap his neck. That would be fun too.

His face started to turn blue and I knew he was close to his last breathe. I was close too, but for me it was the cusp of what was building up to be my most beautiful orgasm ever. I thought it was appropriate that the French call an orgasm 'La petite mort,' which means, 'little death.' I was sure my orgasm would be powerful enough to put me in a near coma, and I began to allow myself to reach that climax. Bobby Scagliotti was finished. I had won.

I was so close to my little death that I didn't notice Scagliotti waking up, and I didn't notice when he started to lift me up, standing in the process. "The Fuck!" I yelled. Scagliotti was actually leaning up, trying to get to his feet, and he was lifting up my entire body with his neck as he did so. I held on for dear life, squeezing his neck with my powerful legs, hoping to crush his throat, but the muscles in his neck were like a bull's. "Holy shit! Why won't you die?" The fear is my voice was obvious now. My voice was breaking from the destructive mix of orgasmic pleasure of paralyzing fear.

He was on his knees now, and I was perched up on his shoulders like a little girl riding on her daddy's back. The amount of strength he was exerting was superhuman. Any other man would have been dead by now, but I still had an advantageous position and I was going to use it.

The more he stood up, the more I leaned back, so that my legs were still wrapped around his neck but now I was adding my whole body weight to it. My silky black hair was sweeping the floor, my head was now at the same level as his tight sexy ass, but I was facing the wrong way to give it a lick. Too bad, eating his ass while he died would have been pretty hot. I could feel his large hands trying to pry my legs off of his neck, so I reached out with my hands and grabbed him by his wrists, pulling them back far enough that I could feel his joints straining in their sockets, threatening to pop out. I was amazed to see that he was still so strong despite the amount of time he had gone without air.

"Damn, you're strong," I complimented in as husky, tired voice. "I bet you could fuck a girl for hours and stay hard. I'm almost starting to regret not getting you in the sack before killing you, but I'd never let a student dominate me. I couldn't afford to. You understand, right? It's all about respect. If you fucked me then what's to stop the other boys from trying to get a piece of my amazing ass too? I'm sure I could beat down a few, but what if the rest of your team came at me all at once? They'd rape the shit out of me, and then what would separate me from those bitchy little sluts I have to tolerate every fucking day? No, I'm not going to end up like Mrs. Cummings the English teacher. I know how you boys use her like a box of tissues. She's been fucked so many times she can't even wash away the semen smell. I'm not your bitch. I'm no one's bitch."

My legs were sweating. I lost my grip for a split second and he took in a deep breath. I clamped back down though and starting choking him even harder. He continued to just stand there, probably too oxygen deprived to think of much else.

"Not so fast," I scolded. "You're going to die here, and I'm going to make sure everyone at school knows that you died under my cunt. I'm not just doing this for myself, you know? I have to think of my daughter too. I know how sexy she is, I can see her firm tits and perfect ass as clearly as anyone else. I see the way she sways her ripe little butt when she walks, and the way she licks her perfect pink lips. I also see the way shitheads like you look at her. You look at her and all you see is a cherry that needs to be popped, and each of you think you've got the cock worthy to do it. Well I'm not going to let you do it. My daughter will not be like every other worthless fuck-toy in that school, she will not be your cum-dumpster."

I was very insecure about my daughter attending school at Wet Valley high. There wasn't a girl in that entire school who didn't graduate without getting gang-banged, raped in the bathroom, or beaten up by the other girls at least once. My daughter had not suffered any of that so far, but only because I constantly watched over her like the guardian angel of cockblock. If I caught a boy talking to his friends about asking my daughter out so he could fuck her in his car, I'd call him over to my desk, I'd grab his nuts and put them in an open drawer, and then I'd slam it shut. If I overheard one my lesbian students saying she thought that she could turn my daughter, I'd ask her to come to the bathroom with me (because no cunt-licker could resist me), but then I'd beat the shit out of her and tie her to the toilet so that every boy in the school could take turns using her as a cum-dumpster.

Nobody was stupid enough to hit on my daughter anymore, but I knew if I ever lost my edge and became some stupid stud's milf-bitch then my daughter would probably end up the victim of gang-bang, and I wouldn't let that happen.

I was sure Scagliotti was about to die on his feet. "I want to thank you Scagliotti," I snickered. "I want to thank you because after you die I'm going to use your hot corpse to give myself the most incredible orgasm ever. It's going to be so wet and violent you'll feel it in hell. Now die!"

But Scagliottit didn't die. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his neck bulged out like his head was about to explode, and a single word escaped his bruised throat . . . "Bitch!"

And then he pushed, straining every bulging muscle in his body to the point of bursting. He ducked, throwing me upward. He was five feet and five inches, I was six feet tall, but the ceiling was only about seven feet tall. I saw it coming but I was moving too fast to react. My head hit the ceiling so hard that I broke through it, sending large paint flakes and chunks of dry wall raining down all around us.

I was so stunned that I must have loosened my legs and fallen off his back. I don't remember falling, all I remember is a few brief moments of blinding pain, but when my sense came to I was sitting on the ground. My ass hurt like hell, and I was choking on the paint flakes I had inhaled. I looked up, and through my watering eyes I could see Scagliotti standing above me. He looked pissed. He was rubbing his neck and breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling like a powerful engine. But what frightened me most was his iron-hard cock. I knew some men would get powerful erections when deprived of oxygen (auto-erotic affixation or something like that, one of our loser students killed himself doing it recently), and Scagliotti was apparently one of these men. His cock was twitching, throbbing visibly with every heartbeat, and it was so red and purple I thought it was about to explode. It was almost a foot long.

I looked into his smoldering, hungry, hateful eyes, and I knew what they were saying. His eyes said 'rape.'

I involuntarily whimpered, and through my quivering lips I made a single meek whisper, ". . . please no."

His fist came down like a meteor and struck me in the face. I was pushed even harder into the floor as the spit was literally knocked out of my mouth. I had no time to recover as he strongly grabbed me by the hair and lifted me to my knees. With his other hand he slapped me twice in the face. I was seeing stars and he leveled my drooling mouth to the bulbous head of his horse-sized cock. The musky smell of his sex-stained cock and unwashed balls filled my sense, momentarily making me forget the pain.

"Suck," he commanded.

He pushed his wooden muscle to my beaten lips, but I wouldn't accept him into my soft, wet mouth. His cock was too big, it seemed bigger than anything I had every even considered using for sex. He'd break my jaw if I let him in.

He was angry. He yanked on my hair and lifted me to my feet. I stood before him shivering in fear, too afraid to strike back. I think I may have pissed myself a little, but my pussy was already so wet there was no way to tell. His fist came up with enough force to shatter stone, and it landed right in my unprotected stomach. I did a lot a work on my abs, and if I flexed there would be a visible six pack, but the muscle did nothing to protect my organs as his hammer-fist disappeared to the wrist into my guts.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. It hurt too much to exhale, but moments later a stream of spit and watery vomit poured from my mouth and stained the floor as my stomach was collapsed by his fist.

He withdrew his first from my midsection, and I fell back to my knees gasping desperately in indescribable pain. His fist had been the only thing holding me up. Once again he violently grabbed me by my long black hair and pushed my swollen lips to the large head of his angry cock.

"Suck," he ordered, and this time I obeyed. It wasn't easy though. The cock was so large that my mouth had to strain all the way to accommodate just the tip, and my whole body was shivering from pain. I wished I had just sucked him off the first time he told me to, the pain was going to make this impossible. My tongue flickered ineffectually around his apple-sized cock-head, and even in my beaten state I was amazed by how good it tasted. His urethra slit was so large that I could fit the whole tip of my tongue in it, so I wiggled into it trying to taste the residue of his urine and sperm. He moaned in pleasure, and that made me feel relieved. Maybe if I could keep him happy he wouldn't hurt me anymore.

"Get it wet, you bitch. Your spit is the only lubricant I plan to use before I fuck your ass." He was smiling like lion smiles at a wounded gazelle.

"My ass? This thing? But . . ." I was going to protest , the idea of this organ-breaker entering my tightest hole made me want to cry, but I knew denying him was impossible, and resisting would bring more pain.

"But? But what, whore? You don't have the right to refuse me. You don't have a choice. You're just a hole. Just a wet, empty hole needing to be filled. Now shut up and get this dick wet, before I decide to just kill you and leave your body out back for the junkies to use as a sex-pillow. You were going to kill me right? Well I'll kill you, unless you can make yourself useful, and there's only one use you're good for. Now suck."

My beaten face was wet with sweat and tears as I submitted to him. I tried my hardest to suck him, but I honestly couldn't get even three inches of this thick cock in my mouth without hurting my jaw. I brought my hands up to jerk him off, but I was quivering so much I couldn't get enough of a grip on him to do much. He was so thick that tips of my fingers couldn't even reach around to touch my thumb. I was terrified; I had never even used a dildo this large on myself before.

Scagliotti sighed in disappointment. "Is that really the best you can do? Pathetic. You act like you're such a hardcore badass bitch, but you can't even such a cock. I've fucked girlscouts who suck cock better than you do (who were all older than 18)."

Scagliotti clapped both of his rough hands on either side of my head. My eyes bulged in fear, and I whimpered in anticipation of what was surely about to happen.

"Let me help you, you worthless, retarded bitch." He pushed my head down onto his cock so hard that when his head hit the back of my throat it sounded like he punched me again. Even then, a little less than half of his cock remained out of my mouth. He pulled me back, but not far enough to let the head out. He slammed back in, this time angling himself downward, bending my neck painfully as he did so. This time his cock went in another two inches. My throat stretched to accommodate the thick muscle raping its way to my gullet.

He pulled my head back again, the head of cock just touching the inside of my lips, and then he slammed in harder than he ever had before. He got all the way in this time. My nose hit his hard, muscled abs and my chin squished right into his greasy ballsack. It felt like something in my throat had broken, and I was sure my voice would never sound the same. The wide head of cock was almost to my stomach. I couldn't breathe, and I felt my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. I was going to suffocate. This was how I was going to die.

I bit down, only a little, but it was enough to make him wince in pain.

He withdrew is cock in one fluid motion, but it still took almost two whole seconds to come out completely. Long trails of spit connected us, and even though I was trying to breathe I couldn't. I thought he must have broken something in me, but then, I finally inhaled. I started crying and a moment later I was vomiting again.

I looked up to see him, his image was blurry in my watery eyes, and I didn't see the back of his hand until it hit me in the face.

"You stupid, worthless, useless, slant-eyed slut. You bit me. You fucking bit me. Can you really not suck a dick? Are you really that inexperienced? Have you ever even pleased a man before? I actually feel bad for you."

I choked on the spit and vomit, coughing in pain. "Fuck you!" I screamed. "Fuck your mutant cock!"

"You will, bitch," he assured me. "You will fuck this dick. But fist, you need to suck it the right way." He grabbed me by my head again and shoved his cock in my mouth, but instead of the long, hard thrusts from before, this time he simple shook my head on his cock like he was jerking off with my mouth. He was shaking me so fast I couldn't see. I felt sick, like I was riding a broken rollercoaster, and the back of my throat was being beaten like a piece of tenderized meat.

I don't know how long he shook me like that but it felt like a disorientating eternity of pain. I was so focused on trying to breathe in the tiny moments his cock wasn't blocking my airway that I didn't even consider what would happen if he ejaculated into my throat.

But then my tongue tasted the unmistakable salty taste of a man's essence. It was only a little at first, but I knew what was coming. He was starting to orgasm, his cock grew even thicker in anticipation of his release, and judging from the ridiculous size of his balls I knew I was about to drown.

markydaysaid
markydaysaid
1,621 Followers