A Fuck Toy Graduation Episode 05

The rage was gone. Lying there naked, covered in her own cum and the cum of a dozen men that Ms. Cummings had spat onto her torso, that was the first thing she noticed once Ms. Cummings' lurid lips left her snatch.

"Clean this mess up before you leave, cum cup." Ms. Cummings said casually before she left the room.

Taylor's mind roiled again. How this was happening to her was a terror to her mostly because her body responded in one way and her mind responded in another. She finally sat up, pulling her bra out of her mouth. She looked around in the dim room, the lights were off and the shades drawn on the windows. Wind blew rattling the windows in their wooden frames, part of the oldest building of the school. Her clothing was flung around the room. She gathered it up, letting her cunt drool as it needed to, though Ms. Cummings had sucked the cum out of her that the males had deposited in her. She was squeaky clean in one sense but in another, her cunt was drooling with the aftermath of her own stimulation, her own body was turned on and nothing she did could duplicate the satisfaction of being used in such a harsh succession by the adults in the room as she had been. Her ass ached. It was a roaring conflagration inside her and she longed for Timmy to return and ease that pain by removing the plug.

She found Ms. Cummings spray bottle and paper towel stash and cleaned up, the desk and the white board which was splattered with her effluvia, which itself amazed her. She thought at first others had put it there but then tasted it and concluded that her cunt had sprayed that far, in that direction. The memory of her body bucking as she sprayed at the last, after Ky removed the huge dildo calmed her, or was it after Ms. Cummings ate her to a third or fourth orgasm? Taylor's mind held no answers. She gathered up her clothing and walked out into the silence of the new period, naked, mindless of her nudity yet aware of this freedom to discount every convention that rules the place. She was still smeared with her own ooze and the wealth of cum from the other adults for she'd cleaned the room and not bothered to clean herself. It was only when she looked up from the floor to find a woman staring at her that she realized Ms. Cummings had not told her to clean herself, so she hadn't. In that awful moment she realized she was so empty of will, swamped by the complexities of her need and her orgasms that she needed clear, direct commands in order to function. The realization, the first clear thought she had, humiliated her to the core.

Three-holes Taylor. Fuck toy. Cum trench. Cunt cup.

Owned.

That's the first thought she had. She was so empty that's all she was, just holes.

"Taylor, what happened to you? You're, god, girl, you are a mess and you're naked!"

The voice made Taylor aware of her surroundings. She opened her eyes, realizing she'd closed them when she confronted someone, whoever it was, she could not bear to see that someone was seeing her or comprehend the look in their eyes when they did see her, whoever it was.

"Taylor, come with me." The voice said.

"Okay." Taylor responded. Her voice held no resistance, no response at all that had any of her will in it. It was pure relief, relief that someone would direct her. She focused on the floor and the blue high heels clicking along on the floor in front of her. A swinging door opened and the floor turned to the tiny squared tiles of the restroom.

"Put your clothing there." Taylor had to look up to see where the woman was pointing.

"Mrs. Saunders!" Taylor spoke her surprise.

"Taylor, I will not tell you again!"

Taylor blinked.

"What?" Taylor was shocked by the woman. And being shocked in her state was something. She half expected Mrs. Saunders to produce a dildo and fuck her with it. That thought immediately became a wish.

"I said, put your clothing down. Do as you are told, young lady."

Taylor did as she was told. The reverberation of the earlier anger twisted her up.

"Look at you! You're a mess. You should never let anyone see you in this state. It's disgusting. What happened to you?"

Taylor gazed at the woman, a mature version of Nicole, older, more stately with larger tits and broader hips. Taylor studied the blond woman, a short sort of pageboy cut and her full lips, not smiling but not frowning either, and those brittle green eyes.

"I asked you a question, Taylor, are you stupid?" The woman asked, her voice even and casual, like they were discussing the weather or a charity event.

"No." Taylor said, some of her former sarcasm clipped her tone.

"When you address me, you will use ma'am always. I will not brook disrespect."

Taylor's chin rose an inch.

"What if I don't?" She half expected, half hoped the woman would slap her across the face.

Mrs. Saunders smiled. It was a frosty smile.

"Why, my dear, then I will ignore you and let you slide back into the primordial slime from which you slithered. If you want to remain the lowest form of slut, then feel free. I cannot and will not stop you. If you want to learn how to be a proper slut, I'll train you as you clearly need to be trained."

"Excuse me?" Taylor asked, sincere now but the woman didn't hear that as such. She shrugged her broad shoulders, broad for her frame, which made her breasts flux and sway, and turned to the door to the restroom to leave. "No, wait, er...ma'am." Taylor said, feeling something real in the air, something profound. Mrs. Saunders turned to her again. She nodded.

"That's better. I don't expect you to be perfect, far from it but I do demand respect. I want people to know we are familiar. If someone is around I will call you Taylor and you will call me Pamela...if my daughter is with us, call me Pam...she hates that. Naughty Nicole struggles with jealousy and envy, her bugaboos. I am seeking to break her of it and I have not done well thus far. That's why I have decided to take hold of you, own you, and use you as my slut. You will not touch me, perhaps ever. Certainly not if you let yourself get into the state you are presently in. What a mess." Mrs. Saunders clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Make no mistake, slut, I am only taking you under my wing because it will drive my daughter off the edge. Having me own a hapless cumslut like you will offend Nicole's most basic sensibilities. She has this idea that she is better than everyone else and I mean everyone. You, my dear slut, will gain my attention only because I need someone utterly undeserving of it to put my haughty naughty daughter into her place. She needs to learn to fuck when I say fuck, suck when I say suck and open her lovely legs when I say to open them. I picked you because you can outrun her and out jump her even though you don't know it, perhaps. You'll never outshine her with that MACK body of yours. You remind me of a dump truck, Taylor but you seem blissfully unaware of just how disgusting you are as a woman. You have holes and that's all that even resembles the species and that will make Nicole crazy when I devote even the slightest hint of attention to you. She will hate you, and if and when she tries to attack you, I will protect you. You can't. You must take anything she does to you or I cannot be the one to train that viciousness out of her. She's a vicious cunt and you will suffer but looking as you do, I presume any attention from my daughter would be a true compliment to you."

Mrs. Saunders smiled then. She cocked her head.

"Is any of this making sense to you, Taylor?" Her head twitched a little. "I know you're a true dumb cunt but this should be easy to understand."

Nothing about the woman made sense to Taylor. Nothing. The idea of being used to make Nicole jealous, well, that made a little sense. Nicole's attitude in Mr. G's office presented that attitude. Taylor shivered. She knew how jealousy could taint a woman, turn her into a shrew and that's the best word for it. That she'd become the crash dummy for Nicole Saunders seemed monstrous in the extreme but the moment her rejection flared, her cunt clinched, telling Taylor that this was just the sort of mind fuck her body loved. Just like that, Taylor Dillon was twisted in an entirely new way.

"Give me your phone. I want your number." Mrs. Saunders said.

Taylor felt flustered. It was like having her mind go blank when the music started and her whole dance routine vanished and she couldn't move. That had happened a time or two and the fear of it drove her to practice with an intensity few could match. Nicole could and that haunted her.

"Your phone, stupid slut." Mrs. Saunders sounded actually irate.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I don't have it. I don't know where it is." Mrs Saunders rolled her eyes.

"Then tell me your number." Her voice was clipped and sharp, the tone made Taylor cringe. She recited her cell number. Mrs. Saunders punched it into her phone then listened to it. She nodded. "You'll change your greeting, you sound like an officious cunt on that one. I'll work on it with you. Understand, Taylor, you do as I tell you and we'll get along just fine. You think you know better and I'll teach you the error of your ways in ways you cannot imagine but will never forget. So do not test me." She pulled up the door, hesitated and looked back at Taylor. "For fuck's sake, clean yourself off and get dressed." Mrs. Saunders vanished from the room.

Taylor did as she was bid. It was only walking to Miss Steinway's class that it dawned on her what had just happened. She had a Master, a third master, Mistress, a third Master. Mrs. Saunders must be the Master of her mind now. That the woman did not touch her or bid Taylor to touch her seemed to explain the situation.

"I have another Master." Taylor whispered, having no idea how to feel about that. She'd been claimed walking naked down the hallways, covered in cum and spit. And the woman explained it all to her, why and how and what. What came next Taylor could not imagine.

She entered the English class and it went silent.

"There you are." Miss Steinway said archly. "We have been waiting for you, Taylor. Are you still plugged?"

Taylor's heart sank. She nodded though.

She really wanted to have Tim remove the plug but there was no opportunity. She was stretched on the desk against, stripped naked, again...so she was happy Mrs. Saunders had had her clean up. They fucked her again, cocks and dildos but this time, she came and came and came. Halfway through the hour, Taylor realized it was because she had a third Master. She had no idea what it meant to have the woman as the master of her mind, but somehow, the indistinct nature of it thrilled her fully. The orgasms came to her easily and rapidly, building in intensity throughout the hour until she was bucking herself nearly off the table as cock or dildo fucked her. Several had fucked her in physics but others were fresh and eager and did her twice. She was bubbling with cum, hers and the adults' by the time the end of school bell rang.

She went to dance practice smelling of cum and plugged, her ass on fire. She was a mess and ended up running the halls because she couldn't get anything right. Running plugged was a whole new agony. By the time they finished, Taylor was utterly undone and that itself scared her. Tim picked her up and took her to his house, coddling her and cooing over her suffering, but not removing the plug until they were in his house. Her ass roared with pain, raw and stretched as it was. Her cunt clinched each time she moved.

Tim ran a bath and bathed her, his soft loving hands exposed her skin, removing the film of cum and sweat that covered her...Miss Dougherty had refused to let her shower for being such a nasty cunt. Tim had washed her clean and was oiling and massaging her body in the bath when the phone rang. He got up to answer it and talked for a few minutes. When he returned, he looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Tim, what's the matter?" Taylor asked.

He shook his head, mute. He just licked his lips and grunted a few times. Finally Taylor snarled at him to tell her what was wrong.

"That, that was my mother...she's arriving home early. I have to go get her at the airport tonight."

Taylor felt the ugly mixed feelings of relief and regret. She did not understand Tim's reaction though.

"What is the problem? I'll just go home. About time I get out of your hair." She laughed. Taylor knew there was more to this than that. She could not simply leave. Tim owned her for two weeks, not yet half past. And he'd told her what she had to do. This was the old Taylor, the one schooled and adept at subtle and not so subtle manipulation. She counted on Tim to let the matter drop and not make his sale of his own mother her problem to deal with somehow.

Taylor opened her eyes then and saw Tim staring at her, pitiful and desperate.

"They'll fuck my ass, Taylor." He whined.

She wanted to laugh at him. Her descent into the gutter had ended with a bounce and now she was feeling the need to resist, to resume the throne of Swanson High, to dethrone cunt Ky but her demise was long in coming. No one except perhaps Ash had any interest in upholding her and rescuing her from the fall from glory and grace into the gutter. What was worse, the gritty feel of the gutter on her cheek aroused her in a way she'd never felt before, the natural extension of being tied and fucked as the first line on her sexual resume. She felt at home as the hole of Swanson High. The assurance that she'd become a fuck toy was suddenly clashing with what she'd been before and she felt disturbed by both expressions of either character so no matter how she thought of herself, she felt uneasy and discontent.

In the end, it was her Master that decided for her.

"I want you to talk to Mother." Tim said softly.

Taylor waited for him to say "please" and ruin the moment, make it easy for her to resist, to refuse and leave him with the expectation of becoming the school ass bitch. He didn't do it. He didn't say "please". The little shit likely just forgot, for he was not telling her to do it, yet it was clearly a command. When he repeated himself, he left no doubt that she had to obey him.

"Talk to Mother, Taylor. You are the best one to do it." Tim got up and began to undress, revealing his doughy thin body. He was wet from washing her. He left her in the tub, dressed then poked his head into the door of the bathroom to say he was off to the airport.

Taylor lay in the water until it was cold and she was shivering. She had three Masters and one of them had just handed her an utterly impossible task. She lay back in the cold water, trying to relax and waited for Tim to return with his mother. She slept and dreamed of licking cunts, dozens of them all with a tart orange taste that made her mouth water. She woke as she slipped below the surface of the cold water, too passive to save herself. The water closed over her, obscuring her future but waking her from one dream into the midst of the next one. She rose out of the water, shivering with dread and cold.

"Taylor! We're home." Tim's voice announced from the front door.