Malignity of Stone Ch. 05

Chapter Five: A Tittering Sycophant

Irene

Turnarounds can be a bitch.

I'd been a late bloomer, in more ways than one. It had taken all my strength and determination to not let the bullying break me. I lost weight, cured my acne, hit the gym. In the space of a couple of years, I'd gone from the class loser, to a bombshell with her own posse in tow.

But that wasn't enough for me, not yet. Something was missing. I was proud of my grit, to be sure, but I wanted to truly see my will triumph.

I wanted the impossible. Beyond that, I wanted it on my terms.

I wanted to be a fucking queen.

I nearly felt like one, regally perched upon my own teacher's desk. Class was yet to begin, and we knew Cathy was up, so it was a bit of a free-for-all. My classmates stood by the window, mingled with one another, chatted animatedly about nerdy topics, and generally minded their own business.

There were but three exceptions.

Nick Foster stood with his back straight, his fingers drumming impatiently on the desk. He couldn't wait for Cathy to come, and I could definitely sympathize. We both got a kick out of putting the bitch in her place.

We had different reasons, of course. Nick wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. I suspected he was proving a point to himself as much as Cathy.

But me?

After being in the shadows of more popular people for so long, I wanted to see someone fucking grovel before me. The queen bees like Cathy had made my life a living hell before I became one of the winners myself. Now, there would be hell to pay.

And so I awaited for Cathy by resting my butt on her desk, crossing my legs seductively -- I'd chosen dark, form-fitting jeans that emphasized the curve of my calves and thighs, and flat-bottomed equestrian boots that made me look like a dictatress in waiting.

Oh, then there was the third exception, of course.

Cindy Cooper was staring daggers at me.

No wonder. The bitch was a bully, through and through, and I'd been on the butt end of her abuse for most of my time here at Crawford High. But no longer. Now she would get a nice, fat helping of the same medicine.

I bobbed my booted feet up and down, smirking at her. I loved challenging her so openly. She knew I was winning our little tug of war. It had all started with me stripping her of the right to vote... which, to be honest, I was surprised to find incredibly hot. Weird, of course, but hot.

The tide was against her now. The rest of class saw her star as on the wane since that day, with mine very much on the rise.

With her sister being so slavish, I knew it was only a matter of time before I got leverage that would allow me to show both sisters who was boss. And then, we'd really have some fun.

The door opened, snapping me out of my reverie, and in stepped Cathy. I openly laughed in her face -- surely I wasn't the only one who'd noticed her skirt grow progressively shorter, week after week, to the point that occasionally, the top of her black stockings would show. Today's skirt was blue, and her blouse was white and tight.

She was clearly braless, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

Hard nipples, I didn't fail to notice.

I didn't know what the hell was going on in this school, exactly. But so long as I got a windfall out of it, why should I complain?

"Good morning, class," Cathy said sheepishly, in a voice so low you'd think she didn't want to be heard. Maybe that was exactly her objective, considering that our attention could only be bad for her at this point. I saw her turn towards Nick first, which made me raise an eyebrow.

"Good morning, sir," she said, bowing her head.

Not mister Foster, but sir. Huh, interesting. Had Nick found a way to strengthen his authority over Cathy? I'd have to watch them closely.

Then, Cathy spotted me, sitting on her desk like it was my turf. She opened her mouth, closed it, eyed her sister -- so pathetic, did she expect her own little sister to help out? Eventually she realized she was powerless to defy me, and simply bowed her head.

God, I'd never get tired of this thrill.

"Good morning, Miss Cain," Cathy told me.

"Ma'am," I said, sharply. "You called Nick sir. The least you could do is pay me the same courtesy."

That left Cathy speechless, with her eyes wide in terror. Interesting! So Nick did have a special hold over her. I wondered what he'd found. But regardless, once openly called out, Cathy had no choice but to fall in line.

"Of course, ma'am. My apologies."

"Say, teach, you want a good grade?" I said, bobbing my right foot in the air. "I think my bootstraps are loose. Get down there and fix that."

Promptly, Cathy knelt down before me.

God, I felt like such a queen. Here I was, using her desk as her throne, while she knelt on the floor to literally lace up my boots.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" Cindy roared in defiance, balling her hands into fists. "Cathy, get up! Stop obeying this upstart!"

I noted with interest how Cathy reacted to her sister like she'd been issued an order, but before she could rise. I lifted my other foot into the air, placed it atop her head, and pushed down. Cathy fell back to her knees, whimpering in pain as the hard sole of my boot pressed down upon her head.

"If I hear another word from you, Cindy," I said as the whole class watched, my words laced with venom, "I'll give your bitch of a sister a grade so terrible she will be fired on the spot. Do we understand each other?"

To my amazement, Cindy sat down. She glowered and muttered under her breath, but sat down, while I was literally rubbing my dirty sole into her sister's hair. That made me press my thighs together.

"That's it, peasant," I said. "You have no right to vote, remember."

And that's when laughter resounded from everyone else in class, and I saw the defiance and self-confidence drain away from Cindy's face.

I let Cathy lace up my other boot, hovering it inches from her face all the time, and then I was magnanimous enough to let her up. She tried to recompose herself, to some degree, but looked flustered as Nick approached her.

"See you at appointment hours, teach," he said in a whisper.

I had to stifle a gasp -- I stayed quiet, not wanting Nick to know I'd heard them. Appointment hours, of course! One on one facetime, no other students looking on, no danger of being caught... you could exert so much more control over Cathy if she were alone!

I was actually a little embarrassed that Nick had had this idea before me. I would have to figure out what he was doing exactly.

I smiled to myself. I knew what I had to do if I wanted to find out.

By the time class ended, I would be well on the way towards achieving my goal.

***

Cathy

"No, wait! Please sir, wait!" I begged and pleaded, bent over the desk, with Nick's strong hand possessively placed on my rear.

Such was the mockery of "appointment hours" that was enforced on me as part of the review system.

I knew my pleading would fall on deaf ears, and this was confirmed a second later, when Nick simply pressed the tip of his cock into me, without making any compliments.

I slumped down on the desk, defeated. It wasn't like I was trying to deny them -- I'd lost that kind of autonomy by now. But he could at least have the decency to put me in the mood, first.

That wasn't his way. Nick fit the stereotype of the self-centered, obnoxious jock to a T. He probably fancied himself a ladies' man, but his technique -- such as it was -- was incredibly clumsy. And I couldn't so much as raise the point, even in a pleading, servile, sniveling voice.

As he began working his way deeper and deeper into me, I was reminded of the horrible truth of my situation. Nick didn't need to worry about my pleasure. It was subordinated to his. My job hung in the balance of whether my pussy could satisfy his cock.

Embarrassingly, that thought lubricated me. It pushed me to alter my behavior for his pleasure. I rolled my hips, responded with eager gasps when he spanked me, kept my arms firmly limp by my side as he stamped his masculine authority into me like I was little more than a bitch for him to dominate.

"That's it, teach," Nick said, not even sounding remotely off-balance. He did have the stamina to go with the jock body, after all. "It's what you were made for. Give it to me. Give it up."

He lacked the verbal command of my humiliation that Burns showed every time he staked his claim on me -- something which made me appreciate his methodical deconstruction of my womanly pretensions even more. Next to him, Nick really was just a boy.

And yet, my future was in his hands, and my body was free for him to use. So if he really was inexperienced and clueless, what did it say about me that I was so firmly under his thumb?

With a gasp I realized I was supplying the very verbal humiliation that Burns would normally heap on me, and my pussy was responding, convulsing around Nicks' cock, gripping it, making him groan with pleasure.

A small, distant, horrified part of me knew I was beginning to associate my dependency on dominant male figures with sexual arousal. This would convince Nick even further that there was nothing wrong with the way he had sex.

My actions weren't just damaging me. They were damaging the wider feminist cause, and all women everywhere.

As Nick's fist clenched around my hair, pulling my head backwards, impaling me further with his cock, I realized that I was a gender traitor.

And the thought alone made my body quake with pleasure.

"Looks like I'm the one doin' the teachin' here," he said, and this time his voice was showing signs of his physical activity. As was I. Nick was pistoning inside me with more and more energy, ragdolling me over the desk like I was just an object, rather than a person.

And I was. Twisted, bent, pliable, most of all available. In the span of a few weeks I'd let this student -- this person I was supposed to be an authority figure towards -- entirely domesticate me, like a little sexpet.

For all his physical stamina, Nick was young and horny. Where Burns was very precise about his requirements, Nick was easily pleased. All of a sudden, his hands let go of my hair, and pushed my face down onto the desk, reminding me of my subordinate position as a plaything at the beck and call of men.

With a final roar of triumph, he orgasmed into me, planting his seed deep within me, claiming me. His interest spent, he withdrew from me with a soft squelching sound, leaving me to whimper in frustration. I hadn't got to cum, but I knew better than to raise the issue with the men who now ruled over my life.

Burns had been very particular about this concept. Whether women cum or not is irrelevant, he liked to say. They exist to provide relief, not to seek it. It was a disgusting lesson that went against everything I genuinely believed in... but it was hard to cling onto my indignation, as Nick composed himself and left my office without so much as a glance in my direction.

I was a spent doll, used and discarded.

Eventually, I found the strength to recompose myself, after a fashion. Still wobbly from the fuck Nick had given me, I made my way out into the main hallway -- I knew Burns wanted to see me, and keeping him waiting would have dire consequences.

As I stepped away from my office, a tingle raced across the back of my neck, as if I was being... watched.

I turned around, my eyes darting this way and that.

No, the place was deserted. Considering the stuff I was going through, it was really no surprise that I saw ghosts behind every shadow.

With a shake of the head, I made my way towards Burns' office.

***

John

John Burns contemplated the delectable piece of ass standing demurely before him.

Cindy became unrecognizable when she was in his office. She couldn't meet his gaze, or walk confidently -- rather, she dragged her feet, spoke in quiet tones, and kept her hands clasped submissively in front of her.

Just seeing her be so unassuming in his presence was getting his dick hard.

How he'd managed to keep his hands off her so far, he barely knew. That took all the restraint he could muster, and more besides, as he labored to figure out what made the girl tick... what reaction the stone had triggered inside her.

His mouth stretched into a predatory smile.

Now, he knew. He was sure of it.

The girl was clearly a little lezzie, this much was apparent to anyone with a functioning set of eyes. But she was clearly inexperienced. Worse, growing up in her sister's shadow had given Cindy some very particular insecurities, ones that mixed very poorly with being a lesbian.

The girl feared social rejection above all else. What if she never found a girl to marry and settle down with? What if her family refused to accept her coming out, and turned her away? The thought of being unlovable absolutely terrified her.

Such a curious thing, the human mind. So versatile, so creative, and yet ultimately, so... fragile. He felt not the slightest bit of empathy for the girl. He knew that she was a rotten bitch to everyone who couldn't strike back at her. Her recent behavior towards the newly-meek Cathy was proof of that.

No, this weakness existed for him to exploit. This was the beginning of the descent, and she would be powerless to stop it.

Burns cleared his throat.

Cindy sniffled a little, rubbing her eyes with her hands. Even so, she stood a little straighter, waiting for whatever message or instruction he had from her.

"Cindy," he began, "I know this is a difficult time for you. I know you have trouble accepting I had a need to discipline your sister. That's what the review system is really for, to make sure she complies with our policies."

"That's not true," Cindy said, but there was no bite to the retort. "It's got nothing to do with work at all. It's gross, unfair, and sexist."

"But that's not what's bothering you," he said, in a voice that brooked no argument, and he gloated at the way she flinched before him. Session after session with the stone had completely broken down her ability to stand up to him.

He'd been thorough in a way that he hadn't even with Cathy. He'd wanted to make sure to close all loopholes before reaping the fruits of his labor, this time.

"I know what you're afraid of," he continued, and the way Cindy's lips trembled as her eyes filled with uncertainty and gratitude was actually a little pathetic.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course," he said with a friendly nod. "I'm a school principal, aren't I? Helping young people through these crucial, formative years is part of my job. Besides, these fears must seem so big to you know, but take the word of someone who's been through it -- it will all seem incomparably silly ten years into the future."

"I suppose," Cindy said, fidgeting in place, unsure of where he was heading with this discussion.

"I have a bullet-proof plan to make sure your worst fear will never come true," he said. "All you need to do is, well... everything I say."

Cindy looked up at him, then down, then up again. "You want to sexually harass me, too," she said with a nervous gulp.

"But of course!" Burns said, nodding enthusiastically. "That's the first step in my plan. How many victims of sexual harassment do you know?"

"Quite a few," Cindy said, her voice still low. She'd spent the last hour staring at the stone, too terrified to look away, and right now, her mind was at the most pliable. Time to go for the killing blow.

"And how do people tend to behave towards them?"

"Not supportive enough," Cindy said with a sniffle, "sometimes they even blame them."

"Sure, sure," Burns said, hurrying her along, "but on the whole, they get empathy and support, especially these days, right?"

Cindy sighed, defeated. He knew she could sense how disingenuous the argument was, but in her current mindspace, she literally didn't have the spare capacity to oppose him.

"While you spend time under me," he said with significance, "I'll be working on my plan to make sure you'll always have the love and acceptance you need. But even if the plan fails, at least you'll be able to tell people you were sexually harassed. This way, everyone will immediately sympathize with you!"

"That's very generous of you, sir," she said, and it was all Burns could do not to laugh out loud at the complete absurdity of this whole discussion. "What do you need me to do?"

"For a start," he said, "kneel."

Cindy's eyes were wide open, now. She realized the implications of what she was about to do, and she looked at her surroundings like a deer caught in headlights, as if looking for a way to escape the fate of sexual subservience now rushing towards her.

But there was no escape.

Slowly, deliberately, she descended to her knees.

It was a glorious sight. Kneeling complimented the beautiful curves of her toned legs in a way he found eminently pleasing. The way she had to look up at him made his erection strain in his pants.

He raised an eyebrow, plaintively. He didn't need to say anything. All he had to do was sit back, and enjoy the absolute defeat in Cindy's eyes as she started crawling on all fours towards his desk.

He knew something had died inside her at that moment, and the idea filled him with vigorous arousal. Identity break was the sweet, sweet taste of victory.

He shivered as Cindy's delicate hands undid his zip.

As her sweet, lesbian lips made contact with a cock for the first time, John Burns allowed himself to consider the possibility that he was truly, thoroughly, and irredeemably evil.

He'd just spent the past few weeks gaslighting, manipulating, terrorizing and mindbreaking two women into making themselves sexually available for him. They were both adults, to be sure, but neither had any real respect for him.

One was his employee, the other a student at his own school.

And the latter was also a convinced lesbian who'd never been with a man before, and was now clumsily sucking on his dick. She'd clearly need the same kind of oral training he'd given her sister.

Yeah.

Evil.

It was lucky, then, he considered as his wiry hands gripped Cindy's hair, that being evil felt so impossibly fucking good.

***

Cindy

I wasn't straight. Therefore, it was okay for me to suck cock.

That's what I repeatedly told myself, as I submissively knelt under Burns' desk, working at his erection with my mouth, cementing this impossible change in my life.

I wasn't straight, so this was nothing sexual. I was merely sucking his cock to protect myself. I was doing it so people would love me. I would do it so Burns would execute his plan to make sure people would continue to love me, whatever it was.

Oddly enough, that part wasn't difficult at all for me to accept. I trusted him. Ever since that first encounter in his office, I'd been constantly gripped with such terrible anxiety... but he'd provided the only real source of relief.

My sister was a frustrating mystery, Irene seemed able of winning every round against me, Nick was his smug, arrogant self, and I was terrified that my family would refuse to accept my orientation... maybe even kick me out. They'd never given me any indication that they would, but for some reason, for the past few weeks I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

But Burns always knew what to say to make me feel better.

Unfortunately, that meant I had to give him a blowjob.

I wasn't good at it, so it was almost a relief when his hands took control of me, and he started thrusting harder into my mouth. I was rubbish at this, of course. Never done it before. Never dreamed of doing it before.

This was a hugely significant moment for me. A lesbian, kneeling before a man... it signified so many things. It meant that I was willing to accept his authority over me to such an extent that it would overshadow even my own sexual orientation. I was so inferior and so helpless before him that it didn't matter whether I was a lesbian or not.