tagNonConsent/ReluctanceSchool Conquering Stud

School Conquering Stud


Note: this story is very unrealistic and immature fantasy which takes place in a world similar to ours but with some more advanced technology and completely different morals. For all purposes and intents, all characters are at least 18 years of age, even if they are described by older characters as being children.


Being a high school teacher was hard enough with a senior class full of horny, violent, and unimaginably degenerate youth, but now it was starting to eat into my own time. With the school facing more and more budget cuts the janitorial crew can only clean the bathrooms once a week, which means that by Friday I can't even use the toilet without getting a used condom stuck to the bottom of my heel, or reading all the newest graffiti about which of my male students has the biggest cock or ate the best pussy. Apparently in both cases the boy was Bobby Scagliotti. No wonder he was so popular.

But what I had to do now really pissed me the fuck off. One of my students had been absent for almost a week now, coincidently it the same Bobby Scagliotti who was rumored to have a horse's cock. I was more than content to let the retarded Guido skip all he wanted (he was probably staying home so he could play x-box and get house calls from the little sluts who followed him around), I'd just give him a big fat 'F' for his Chemistry score, but unfortunately Scagliotti happened to be the star quarterback of the school's football team, and we were favored to take the state championship this year.

Because of this Principal Cox wanted to keep him happy, and keep him playing. That meant that when Scagliotti got caught punching some nerd in the hallway it was the nerd who got suspended. That meant that when Scagliotti got caught raping the shit out of some little slut who had just turned 18 that morning it was the school's job to blackmail her to keep her mouth shut. That meant that when Scagliotti decided to not show up for a week we (his teachers) we supposed to fudge his grades so he wouldn't be put on academic probation.

Also, I was pretty sure Principal Cox was getting her old cunt busted out by Scagliotti every now and then, and that bitch loved to play favorites.

But I wasn't going to take it, not from some corrupt whore like Principal Cox, and defiantly not from some Guido-Wop-Greaser shithead like Bobby Scagliotti. I couldn't give him a failing grade, or otherwise I'd find myself getting fired, or I the football team might retaliate by gang-raping me. I wouldn't be the first female staffer at the school to be used as a cum-dumpster by those muscle-headed jocks. That was just the way Wet Valley High was.

The only thing I could do was gather up all of the school work that Scagliotti had missed and hand deliver it to him at his home address. I'd make sure he at least did the work, even though despite however shitty of a job he'd do I'd still have to give him at least a C-. I fucking hated spoiled jocks like him.

After pulling up to his apartment complex I got out of my car with the box containing his assignments. Immediately I started to feel insecure. This was a bad neighborhood, probably the worst in all of Wet Valley. The streets were filthy and full of cracks, every business looked either closed or was otherwise a front for drugs and stolen goods. Across the street there was some cocky looking nigger with three little white girls following him like slutty little ducklings. He was obviously a pimp, and the girls were obviously his property. I think I recognized one of them from the school, a dropout named Mindy or Cindy or something like that. I always knew she was a dumb little cunt, only good for what she could do with what she was born with.

Scagliotti lived on the top floor of the three story building which looked like something out of a dystopian science-fiction movie. My high-heeled shoes clicked loudly against the concrete as I walked to the staircase. If there was an elevator in this building I wouldn't trust it. There were some junkies sitting nearby with a dead, zombie look on their faces. One of them looked at me with something close to sexual interest, but also close to hunger. I shot him back a cold, razor-sharp glare that scared him off though. I hated junkies. Sure I did ecstasy and acid in college, but even then it was only for special occasions like concerts or the occasional orgy I went to. My body was a temple, as anyone could see.

I caught my reflection in a broken mirror that someone had propped up on a wall next to the stairs, and I was satisfied with what I saw, even though the glass was cracked and dirty.

Six feet tall, slender, long legs, curvy hips, and a perfect rack of large but firm tits that demanded attention. My silky black hair was long enough to reach my ass, but I had it tied up in a ponytail right now, with two long bangs around my ears. My eyes showed my Asian heritage although they were blue like my mother's, and my lips were so pouty and pink even I had trouble not imaging them wrapped around a cock. My daughter said I looked like a video-game character named Bayonetta, but I have no idea who the fuck that is.

I was the hottest piece of ass in that shithole of a school I was stuck in, although I suppose that bitch Principal Cox came close, but she was almost fifty and I was only 38. I had seen some of the graffiti the boys wrote in the bathroom stalls at school praising me as the object of their pathetic fantasies. The virgins in the Hentai club (yes, we actually have a Hentai club) often produced comics with some rather lifelike illustrations of me getting gang-banged or fucking another girl with a strap-on or something perverted like that. At first they were smart enough to name this Hentai heroine something else, but when one cocky little shit actually gave his character my name, Dominique Sinclair, I had to do something. I remembered with relish how I walked right into their club room, my high heels clicking on the floor, and in front of everyone I stepped on that dump artist's right testicle till it popped. He cried like a bitch as I licked the tears from his face.

That might sound extreme, but in Wet Valley High that was just how things were done. It didn't matter if you were a teacher or a student, there were only three classes of hierarchy. At the top were those who fucked, such as the jocks, cheerleaders, and the more dominant teachers. In the middle were those who got fucked, submissive girls, pretty boys, and the like. At the very bottom were the virgins, those losers and retards were weren't manly enough to get some ass and way too ugly to be wanted.

In this sexual food-chain Principal Cox had set herself up as the apex predator. There wasn't a student or teacher she hadn't gotten her hands on in one way or another. The attractive ones she raped, the unattractive one she tortured, and even I had found myself being bent over her desk with a foot-long dildo up my ass.

Fucking bitch. She was tough, but she was aging, and I was biding my time to break her ass open like a piñata and make myself principal in her place. That was how it worked.

Finally I got to the top of the stairs and I was at the door to Bobby's apartment, number 69. Really. I knocked and after a few long moments I heard someone walking to get it. I was ready to give this shithead a piece of my mind. The walk up the stairs had pissed me off even more, and now I was sweating in my tight, form fitting, sexy suit. I always liked to look sexy, that was why I wore suits with tight miniskirts and plenty of cleavage. In my world sex appeal was power, and I loved feeling powerful.

But when the door swung open I forget my anger for a moment, feeling more than a little flustered.

"Mrs. Sinclair? What are you doing here?"

It was Bobby. He was completely naked. And he was perfect.

His body looked like something carved from marble, hairless and muscled, except he was quite tanned and covered in a sheen of sweat. He stank like dirty sex, obviously not having taken a shower in days, but something about his smell was undeniably delicious. His dark hair was messy, but in an almost intentional way, and his dark eyes burned with a constant sexual heat. He was about five inches shorter than me, but the way he stood with such complete confidence made him seem like a giant.

But what grabbed my attention more than anything was the third leg he had swinging from his crotch. His cock, although soft and lowered, was still one of the thickest and longest I had ever seen. It was already seven inches long and as thick as my wrist. I could only imagine what it must have been like hard. No wonders so many of the girls in my class walked with a limp, he must have torn their pussies apart.

I felt my own pussy betraying me, and my expensive panties were getting damp.

"Mr. Scagliotti!" I scolded. "Would you please cover yourself?"

"Fuck no," he laughed in my face. "This is my place, so I'll be naked if I want. What the fuck are you doing here anyway?"

I shoved the heavy box of school work at his chest. He instinctively caught it with his big, strong, warm hands and stared at it stupidly.

"What the fuck is all this?" he asked.

"It's all the work you've missed this past week, plus the assignments you've left incomplete this last semester, plus some work for next week because I don't think you'll be coming back anytime soon."

He looked at the box again with a look on his face that showed both disgust and surprise. He laughed, and then dropped the box on the ground like it was a pile of trash. He shook his head and walked back into his apartment, leaving his front door wide open.

"You little shit—," I began, but I lost my voice the moment I saw his ass. It was the most perfect, scrumptious looking ass I had ever seen on a man (although there were a few women I had liked more). I actually had to stop myself from just diving forward and sticking my tongue between those heavenly cheeks. I can't explain it, but I've always had a huge fetish for eating ass, and I was starting to feel rather hungry.

I quickly regained my composure as I followed him into his apartment, leaving the door open and the book of school work on the floor. His apartment was a mess. It was blazing hot out today but he didn't have the air-conditioner on, maybe he didn't have one. The floor of his living room was littered with discarded clothing, most of it being female clothing. Torn skirts, ripped blouses, and more than a few thong panties. There was a low couch with a coffee table nearby, but both were covered in empty vodka bottles, half smoked blunts, and condom wrappers.

The walls were plastered with pornographic images from magazines and ads, but I noticed some of them looked like they were printed from a home computer. The girls in these images were familiar, and I recognized most of them as girls from the school. In every image at least one girl was naked and in some sexually submissive position, most of them had their faces or chests stained with fresh semen. Apparently Scagliotti liked to collect trophies, most champions did.

Completely ignoring me, he walked into another room, so I followed him. It was his bedroom, and it seemed a bit cleaner than the disaster area that was his living room. His smell was thick here, and I couldn't help but drink it in. I didn't want to admit that such a pungent, nasty smell was turning me on, but there was just something so manly about it. Smells really got me wet.

Then I noticed that Scagliotti and I weren't the only people in the room. "Bobby," a sexy little voice with a Southern accent purred, "what's Mrs. Sinclair doing here?"

Naked and sprawled out on the bed was Dixie Cain, one of my newer students. I thought she had just been home sick today, like my daughter was, but obviously she had been here getting stuffed with Italian cock. She was a cute girl, although not all that bright. Five feet high, perky little tits, otherwise very skinny. Her cutest attribute was her tomato red hair and freckles. Normally her look would be nerdy, but she unintentionally pulled it off in a cute, sexy way. She bounced around campus in a transparent little tank-top and a pair of jean shorts cut so small they were practically a thong. More than once I imagined what this giddy little bitch would look like with a giant cock up her ass, screaming out in both pain and pleasure. I was a little sad to see that I had just missed out on the sight her getting broken in.

"Does she know what we were doing?" Dixie asked Scagliotti in an exhausted voice. "Did she come here to pick up her—," but before she could finish Scagliotti brought down his large hand and slapped her loudly on her freckled ass. She yelped like a little girl and whined a little.

"Pick up my 'what'?" I asked Scagliotti. "What is this slut talking about?" I took an imposing stance. I was much taller than either of them, and I stood with my legs spread a little, with both hands on my curvy hips. It was a look that I had practiced in the mirror, and I knew it inspired both fear and arousal.

It worked a little. Dixie was obviously scared of me, and she climbed back a ways on the bed, whimpering like a frightened little kitten before a ravaging tigress. Scagliotti was unimpressed though.

"Nothing," he answered. "Little bitch doesn't know what she's talking about. I did I pretty good job fucking her brains out today."

"Not that she had much to begin with," I smirked. I looked down at the redhead with all the cold hatred I could muster. She withered under my icy gaze. "You can leave now."

She slowly got up out of the bed, but she stumbled a little and fell to the floor. Her legs were shaking. Scagliotti really had fucked her hard. After a few pathetic seconds she began to gather her clothes and she headed for the door, too scared to look at me.

She looked back at Bobby and asked, "Will you call me?"

"Maybe," was his only answer.

Looking completely defeated the little slut went out the front door, even though she was still naked. She must have felt too shamed to even stay long enough to dress. That made me feel good. I liked knowing I could destroy someone's self-esteem with ease, although Scagliotti had really been the one to break her.

"You're not going to call her," I smirked at him. I was actually impressed by his game.

"How can you tell?" he asked as he sat on the bed and leaned back, absentmindedly stroking his impressive cock.

"Because you're an asshole."

He laughed. His laugh was fucking sexy. "That may be, but no matter how much a girl insists she likes nice guys she'll never give her pussy up like she will for me. It's instinct. Women want to submit to the strongest, most virile male they can find. Nothing else matters really, especially respect or love. I'm not going to call her back because a girl like that is fun to pop but isn't worth a second hit, especially with the pussy I'm pulling in. I only gave her today so she'll know what it's like to get fucked by Bobby Scagliotti, and that no matter how hard she tries she'll never get fucked like that again. Her life from this point on will be one disappointing night after another. She'll think of me the next time she fucks, just so she can climax. She'll think of me on her wedding night, just so she can trick herself into loving her husband, and she'll think of me on her deathbed, knowing that this was the greatest day of her life."

"You're so fucking full of yourself. I fucked a dozen guys like you in college. They made me scream like hell, and I may have been their cock-slave for a while, but now I can't even remember their names. They're all probably fat, alone, and depressed by now, while I'm still fucking hot and getting the best sex of my life. I bet that stupid little slut has a better life than you ever will, because at least she isn't obsessed with herself."

Bobby said nothing, and I was pretty sure I humbled him, but he kept stroking his cock. It was getting big. Really big. "What are you doing here?" he asked me.

"I told you retard, I'm delivering your assignments—,"

"Shut up!" He commanded, and I actually obeyed. "Don't lie to me, and don't lie to yourself. You didn't come here to deliver a bunch of fucking paperwork you know I'm never going to do."

"You will if you want to get a passing grade."

"Bitch, I'm going to use that paperwork to wipe my fucking ass and you're going to give me an A+."

"Why the fuck should I give some lazy, ungrateful piece of shit like you and A in my class?"

He stood up and walked over to me, full of so much swagger I got dizzy looking at him. His cock was bigger now, almost nine inches long and it was now thicker than my wrist. He got right up in my face, smiling, puffing out his big muscular chest, and breathing deeply. The smell coming off him was strong enough to make my eyes water.

He whispered in my ear, "You're going to give me an A+ because you're not going to grade me on Chemistry; you're going to grade me on sex." With his right hand he grabbed my chest, pinching my hardening nipple through the thin material of my blouse and jacket.

I tried to stay cool, but it was impossible. This boy was melting me. "What makes you think I'd ever fuck you?" I asked, but unconvincingly. My voice was breaking, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. My panties were so wet it felt like I had urinated myself.

"Because you're a woman, and all women want to fuck me, even if they say no. Because you're shivering and it's over ninety degrees in here. Because I could smell your dripping pussy from across the room. And, most importantly, because I'm not going to give you a choice."

His other hand came up and grabbed me by front of my tight, revealing silk blouse. With a bestial strength he used both of his massive hands to rip my shirt open, violently tearing it apart like a piece of tissue paper. My expensive, black lacy bray beneath also broke in half, and my large tits bounced out like two jiggling bags of milk.

I tried to slap him but he caught my wrist and twisted it back so violently I thought it was going to break. He then slapped me. It was hard enough to daze me but I kept my footing. Then both of his giant hands were on my tits. His left hand squeezed down on my right breast with a tight grip. He squeezed so hard I thought my breast was going pop like a water balloon, and I squealed in pain. With his other hand he brought my left nipple to his mouth and he began to suck on it. I have very sensitive nipples, and he was clearly and expert and sucking on tits. The complicated mix of pain and pleasure was destroying my focus, and I couldn't tell if I was going to pass out or orgasm.

Finally I broke away, roughly pushing my hands against his chest. He didn't move at all, but I did launch myself back a bit. I started walking backwards away from him, and he followed me smiling like the devil. I was scared. I knew he was going to get what he wanted, but I was so flustered and confused I tried to fight back anyway.

He reached out with one hand and effortlessly ripped my designer miniskirt off of my body. With his other hands he tore away the tatters that had been my shirt, jacket, and bra. In less than a minute he had destroyed over $2,000 worth of clothing, which my moderately wealthy cuckold husband bought for me. I stumbled around his living room in nothing but my tiny black thong, silk stockings, and high heels, desperately trying to remember which way the exit was. I was in a sexual daze, my throbbing cunt was occupying most of my attention, and the rest of my mind was only telling me to run away. Some primitive instinct told me that I was trapped in the den of a superior male, and if I didn't escape I was going to be taken by him and broken into his slave.

I saw the front door which was still open and I tried to run for it but he caught me by the wrist and spun me around to face him. Before I could see it coming his hand slapped me across the face again, and this time it really hurt. The pain woke me up though and I regained my senses. I took a fighting stance, and got ready to kick the shit out of him. He just laughed at me and licked his lips, giving his giant cock a few powerful strokes just to wake it up some more.

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