Chad's Bad Grade

Chad's Bad Grade

by The Preve

Based on "Teacher Blackmail,"

by James AB

The author wishes to thank James AB for his permission in writing the story.

Chad Bradley lounged in Miss Ashley's comfy blue chair. His face wore a smirk. His hand held his blackmail.

"Thank you, Deez," he thought, oh so confident.

Derek "Deez" Duchamp was the one who found it. His constant net surfing the darkest crevasses brought up delicious tidbits.

"I found these on Porn Club last year. I didn't believe it at first. I thought they were deep fakes, but Sherri (Sherri Conley, whiz kid who ran the school tech club) said they were the genuine article. I was saving them for a rainy day but I'll trade 'em for a hook up with Candy."

Candace "Candy" Aberdine, head cheerleader and queen bee of Fillmore High, was Chad's sometime squeeze. She owed him a favor. He'd caught her nude sunbathing by the lake, just about the same time he spotted her father approach. She was able to get dressed while Chad distracted him.

Deez wasn't exactly in the geek category but some girls were still inaccessible. Candy's IOU and the trade fixed the access to her at least.

"You could have used this on Miss Ashley herself, you know," Chad said.

"Nah, I'm doing okay. I don't really have a beef with her. Not that much anyway. School's almost done, though, and this stuff's too juicy to waste. I heard if you don't get that history grade up, your scholarship's in trouble, so these pics are more useful to you than to me."

Chad scrolled through the pics that night, stunned. "Damn! She is fucking hot!"

Cythera Ashley was Millard Fillmore High's history teacher. On the surface, she might not look the type of hot milf students fantasized over. She wore her light golden blonde hair in a tight bun. She used little makeup. Her clothes were conservative and loose-fitting. The impression she exuded was big, tall, ice-cold blonde.

The girls in the class thought her fat. The boys thought her snobbish. Miss Ashley looked down on her students, ice blue eyes gleaming behind her no nonsense wire rim glasses.

In Miss Ashley's case, Chad would describe "look down" as literal. Her height stood at 6'6", towering over everyone, including her fellow teachers.

The pics taught Chad the important lesson of not judging by appearances. They displayed a far different Miss Ashley than anyone ever imagined. The acts she performed in those pics were revelatory, and in his brain, a guarantee of her "reconsideration" regarding his history grade.

Chad picked Saturday after swim practice to confront Miss Ashley. He anticipated, in the shower, the look on her face when he showed her the pics. The power he would hold over, "That cold, stuck up bitch," almost made him shudder.

"A rack of swim trophies, a scholarship with a shot at the Olympics. All for nothing 'cause that bitch gave me a 'D' in the final. She sees what I got, it's a guaranteed 'A'."

Chad was a young man used to having it easy. Certainly he had to work his ass off in swimming, but everything else fell into his lap: looks, girls, trophies, grades with a little sweet talk. He wanted for nothing. He could get away with just about anything.

Chad did no wrong in his parents' eyes. He was the coach's golden boy. The school adored him for the championships he won. Girls ripped their hair out to date him. Boys fought each other to be his friend. The world belonged to Chad. The permanent expressions on his face ranged from smug smile to self-satisfied smirk. One little 'D' threatened it all. Chad was going to fix that.

Miss Ashley didn't register much surprise when Chad showed up at her door. He wasn't the first student to come around this time of year; usually with some question about an assignment or a request to change a grade.

She made sure to speak with the student in the living room, with the curtains opened to the outside, so people could see. The appearance of propriety was extremely important for teachers in this day and age. Her reputation as a prim and proper spinster needed to be maintained.

"Chad Bradley, how may I help you young man?"

"Well, Miss Ashley, a problem in school came up that I think needs your attention."

"Oh? Well, if there's an issue, shouldn't it be taken to the principal?"

"I don't think the principal should get involved. It's kind of awkward, and you're the only one I feel comfortable talking about it."

"Hmmm, well, you can come into the living room young man, but I really don't see how I should be involved with something better handled by a counselor."

"I think it's a problem only you can solve, Miss Ashley."

"Oh."

She had Chad sit in her large blue chair. "I have to check on something in the kitchen, young man. May I offer you a glass of milk?"

"Sure thing, Miss Ashley."

The teacher left for the kitchen.

"Geez, she doesn't lighten up at all, does she?" Chad thought.

She'd greeted him at the door in a light blue dress, prim and proper as at school. Her formal tone of speech unchanged. Miss Ashley's movements and dress betrayed nothing of the body underneath.

After she entered the kitchen, Chad got up and closed the curtains. No one would see when he socked it to her.

Cythera Ashley smiled as she prepared the glass of milk. The Chad boy was up to something. It was on his smirking, self-satisfied face. She knew the look. She'd seen it on countless other men. His demeanor reminded her of the arrogance of more than a few colleagues. One in particular. What's that old trickster doing these days?

Chad was a comely young man. An Adonis in looks but not brains. Cythera smiled, remembering the original. Good times.

She wasn't surprised to see the curtains closed. Yep, definitely up to something. She knew this game. Let's see what he's like underneath.

She walked into the living room with two glasses of milk and a plate of cookies, chocolate chip. She set the plate on the table and sat on the white chair opposite Chad.

"So young man, what is this problem that you believe I can solve?"

"Well Miss Ashley, it's about some info I got about a teacher at school. She did something I don't think the other teachers will like."

"Oh? Is this 'something' a serious act?"

"Some people will think so, Ma'am. I don't personally but I think her reputation is at stake. Especially in this town."

"Ah, I see, and this 'info'. It is with you right now?"

"Yes Ma'am, it is, but the problem is about someone you know."

"Hmmm, and who might that be?"

Chad's smug smile grew, if any, smuggier. He brought out his phone, tapped the screen, and showed it to her. He reveled in her stunned gasp, and shocked look.

"If you don't want me to show the whole school this, you're going to have to do something for me, hee hee."

The picture depicted Cythera in a judge's outfit. Well, not exactly wearing a judge's outfit. The professional artist who'd painted it on her was a master. The only things not painted were her glasses. Her seductive smile and judge's gavel made for good accessories. The title of the picture was "Guilty As Charged! Vol. II"

"Gasp! Oh! Why... why Chad! How! Where did you...?! Oh!"

Cythera snatched the phone and scrolled, indignantly, through the pictures.

"It's no use trying to erase it. I've got copies, hee hee!"

Cythera continued to scroll, Chad smugly watched. He helped himself to a glass of milk. It tasted richer than the usual packaged dairy. The cookies were good too.

Cythera scrolled. "Yeah, that was a fun time," she thought. It wasn't the first time she'd performed in gigs like these. Of course, when she'd started these gigs, they involved a lot of ritual and ceremony, with supplicants. Nowadays they'd be called customers.

There was ritual in the pictures too, but only for the modern age. Her plaything at the time, an erotic photographer, thought he'd seduced her into the photo session; quite the opposite actually. The theme of the series was a judge involving her courtroom in an orgy.

The men and women picked by the photographer were handsome enough. The photographer was professional as most of his contemporaries. He was a controlling, toxic fuck though. She played with him for awhile, then tossed him to the curb. He didn't take it well.

He made threats. She threatened him back, with backup, Thanks Heracles. He backed down. She moved to Chad's town and reinvented herself as a teacher. The photog never knew his luck in getting dumped. Cythera did far worse in her past to people exhibiting that kind of hubris.

And speaking of hubris, time to end this show and start another. Cythera was happy to see that young Chad drank the milk. Good, this makes it easy.

Chad's first indication things weren't about to go his way, came from the look on Miss Ashley's face.

Her shocked, indignant look vanished, replaced by the cold, no nonsense scowl reserved for her students. Chad's smug smile shed some of its smugness.

Miss Ashley set the iPhone on the table. She reached behind her neck and undid her bun. Her light golden blonde hair fell to her shoulders.

Chad suddenly felt considerably less smug. What the fuck's going on?!

Miss Ashley stood, her hand on her hip, stabbing an ice cold gaze right through him.

For the first time, Chad felt uncertain. This isn't how it's supposed to work.

Miss Ashley's face changed. Her right eyebrow cocked, her lip curled into a smirk. Her hands reached up to the collar of her dress, and traveled down, undoing the buttons.

What the fuck?! Chad's smile vanished, replaced by confusion.

Miss Ashley drew her dress back and down. Displayed before Chad's shocked, disbelieving eyes were the largest hooters he ever saw outside the iPhone. It was one thing to see them as an image, quite another to view them in the flesh.

Miss Ashley's bazooms, high-riding with no sag, fell easily into the E-range. Bubble gum pink, silver dollar areolae, tipped with eraser-sized nipples, capped them.

"Alright, strip," Miss Ashley sneered.

Huh?! What the fuck?! "H-hold on, I just meant fixing my grade!"

"Do you think that matters to me?" Miss Ashley's dress fell to the floor.

Chad would explode out of his pants, under other circumstances, to see a hot milf standing nude before him. Miss Ashley was beyond smokeshow. The images on the phone did absolutely no justice to her.

The body revealed defined thicc; not fat as everyone assumed from her dress. Her big melons well-proportioned to her thick but flat torso, wide, oh so wide, hips, atop long thick legs built just right.

Everything about Miss Ashley exuded big: big shoulders, big breasts, big hips, big legs, and nestled between, a big, wide, bald pink pussy.

The expanse of flesh represented every erotic fantasy swimming through Chad's narcissistic brain. Except, for the young swimmer, desire walked hand in hand with awe. There simply was way too much of Miss Ashley to take in.

Chad, for all his eighteen years, was used to dominating his relationships with other girls. The possibility of a big, tall milf outranging him never entered his brain. A nervous grin expressed his uncertainty.

"Strip," Miss Ashley repeated.

Chad stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. The problem was he didn't know why.

He tried to stop his hands from unbuttoning but they moved of their own accord.

What the hell's happening to me?!

"You really shouldn't have drunk my milk, young man. Your body belongs to me now." Cythera smiled, mischievous with a touch of wolf.

"The fuck?! You drugged me!"

"Not quite. It's just a bit of magic, hee hee."

Chad gaped, in shock as his own hands divested his body of his shirt, T-shirt, shoes, socks, jeans, and briefs.

Cythera cocked an eyebrow. "I have to admit, young man. It's been a while since someone impressed me, and you shave too."

"I-I-uh, it makes me go faster in the water, and hair kind of chaffs against my trunks too," Chad gulped.

Cythera took in Chad's body. He was a little short and stocky for a swimmer, but very fit. Some sculptors she knew in the past would love him as a model.

Outside his short, black hair, Chad's body was hairless. His bald pubes made the impressive package between his legs more so. His skin was clear, except for a smattering of freckles across his face.

"I know some people in entertainment who'd be extraordinarily impressed. How is it erect?"

Cythera crooked her finger and beckoned.

Chad's cock sprung erect and plumped to full length. He stared, open mouthed in shock, not at his cock's size, he knew about that, but its independent action. Not that Chad could completely control his erections, but some discipline was present.

"Come here," Miss Ashley commanded.

"W-What?!"

"I was talking to your cock. Your body can choose to stay put, but I warn you, it will be painful if it does."

Chad's cock strained towards Cythera like an iron rod to a magnet. His groin seemed to bulge outward. Chad walked, stiffly, to Miss Ashley, whimpering.

Cythera took the young swimmer's flesh in hand.

"Hmmm, nicely shaped, long, and thick. You must have pleased more than a few."

She stroked its length, feeling its heat and throbbing veins. Chad moaned. He was already close.

"Miss... Miss Ashley, I'm going to..."

"No you are not. You don't cum until I say so, young man."

"What... hah! What are you?!"

"Just the type of goddess you shouldn't try to blackmail, young man," Cythera giggled, and she led the moaning young swimmer to the kitchen, by his cock.

Pink, the kitchen was pink. A pink not uniform or garish in tone. The walls, floor, table, and cover contained various pastel shades. Some, like the walls, held a flesh-colored tone matching Miss Ashley's flawless skin.

The colors on the table looked taken from flowers, pink rose to carnations. The floor was polished bubblegum, the oven, magenta. It was like he'd stepped into a woman's pussy.

Miss Ashley led Chad to the kitchen table and released his cock.

"Sit," she gestured.

Chad sat on the table.

"Lay back."

Chad laid back, his cock pointed up, spear hard and perpendicular. He watched her approach, licking her lips. He noticed her pussy, glistening wet.

"This isn't how it's supposed to work," he whimpered.

"Best laid plans rarely do," Cythera smiled.

She turned around to present him a view of her enormous but extraordinarily well-shaped ass.

"If it's any consolation, others tried similar tricks to yours. I usually made them regret it." She looked over her shoulder, "You can use your hands on my ass. I like my thralls to exercise some initiative. Oh, and you can cum too."

"I only wanted to fix my grade," Chad moaned as Miss Ashley's pussy slurped down his cock.

The irony of the day's events would be forever etched in Chad's brain. That afternoon, the tissue thin difference between fucking, and getting fucked, vanished.

Yes, the sight of a thicc milf's big, fat, globular ass plopping repeatedly on his hairless groin (accompanied by the "Plap! Pap! Pap! Pap!" of naked flesh against naked flesh), made for an intensely erotic view.

Sure, the way her wide, wet, and meaty pussy slithered up and down his painfully throbbing and erect shaft, felt amazingly good.

Fine, her strong, but hot and wet vaginal walls, milked enormous amounts of cream from his swollen balls, and drove him into one shattering orgasm after another.

The utter lack of control over his body was the issue. He was the one who controlled, not the other way around.

Per her permit, Chad was able to, occasionally, plant his hands on her surprisingly firm globular glutes, but emphasize, occasionally.

Between the sweat on both their bodies, and her muscular writhing, purchase remained somewhat difficult. As such, he could only lay while she pumped him to exhaustion.

Noise illustrated another aspect of the power difference. She made none; she didn't even grunt. All the grunts, moans, and gasps came from Chad.

Occasionally, the teacher looked back over her shoulder. Her normally cold, classroom expression was a mix of mischief and dominance. A few giggles bubbled from her lips, and she pumped with increased vigor.

"Ungh! Gah! Ungh! Hah!" Chad grunted with each "plap" of her ass.

"Aah! Ungh! Gaah! Aaugh!" he gasped with each squirt of jizz into her interior.

Each orgasm arched his body. Miss Ashley's pussy squeegeed up and down his cum-shined cock, until a final blast of cream flooded her womb.

She rested on his quivering body for a moment, then stood. Chad's cock slurped out to stand, hard, wet, and throbbing, from his groin.

"It's... it's not going down!" he gasped.

"Of course not, young man. It'll only go down when I say it can, hee hee. Now, get up."

Chad got up. He'd much rather lay on the table.

He waited while Cythera laid on the table. She turned on her back, nude and shiny with her legs spread, her rose wide, and wet with cream and cunt honey.

Chad, gazing upon that nude expanse, would scarce believe his good luck, under different circumstances.

So such luck would seem, if not for his cock straining painfully towards Miss Ashley's pussy, or the near malevolence in her smug smile.

"Well, get to it," she giggled.

Chad padded to the table, the arousal in his body belied by the awed look on his face.

"Let me make this easier for you," she smiled, raising her legs to place them on his shoulders.

He slid inside her to the hilt and began to pump. He couldn't resist really. His hips, like the rest of his body, seemed to have minds of their own. He held her legs for purchase.

While he exercised some control over his body's actions, physical response was a different matter.

The "Pap! Plap! Pap," of smacking flesh, and the "Hah! Ah! Hah," moans and grunts resumed.

Miss Ashley lay, with pumping belly, and milking pussy, squeezing more cream from his swollen balls. Her melons bounced with his exertions. She watched him work; a grin on her face, a chuckle from her mouth.

"Mmmm, I do so love young fools like this one," she purred, "It's been so long since I've had this kind of fun."

Current social mores restrained her from partaking of the young fruit at the school. It did not stop her quiet admiration of the more comely specimens. Cythera was careful to keep her mask of cold authority, however.

She picked Chad out as the best of the lot. A near Adonis in his looks, brash and arrogant, like the Greek warriors of old. Young men like him usually ended up dead on the battlefield, or cursed by the gods for their hubris. Cythera chose the latter for him; no sense to waste a good specimen.

His attempted blackmail was not expected, but not surprising either. The fates of others, who'd tried variations on Chad's trick, even made it into the legends, sometimes.

Cythera took her legs off Chad's shoulders. She wrapped them around his waist and drew him close. Her pelvic muscles flexed, her pussy clamped around his cock.

The swimmer screamed a great, loud, "Aaaahhhh!" His balls pulsed painfully. Jizz flooded through his cock into Cythera's womb.

"Yummm," she purred. She held him tight until his body quake passed. The young swimmer dripped with sweat.

"I love a good sweat-drenched body, young man," she chuckled, "It makes the muscles stand out. I find it sooo yummy." Cythera licked her lips.

Chad gawked at this beautiful, horrible woman. His cock was still hard and buried inside her. He felt its flesh throbbing against her walls. He didn't know how much he could take.

She's fucking me to death! "Please Miss Ashley," he gasped, "I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone! Just let me go! I'll wipe the pics. I won't do this again, I swear I won't!"