Teacher's Pets

Moaning from the sweet feeling of Tanya's sizzling tongue, Jenny rocked her head back and forth on his cock faster and faster, and held his balls in her hand, gently shaking them and ticking his scrotum with her fingertips. She always looked up into his eyes, her face telling him how much she enjoyed her sweet submission to his will.

When he was about to come, he pulled his cock out of her mouth, then rained his come all over her nose, her right eye, her left cheek, her lips, and her tongue. Always moaning from the licking she was getting from Tanya, Jenny looked up at her master and smiled as his come dripped down her face.

He didn't need to wait long for the Viagra to make his cock hard again, and he got down on top of Tanya, sliding his hard-on inside her delicious ginger pussy. Jenny left the room to wash her face in the bathroom.

The blonde licking Reba's pussy was getting her so hot that she had difficulty concentrating on regaining her will. Her labia were swollen with pleasure, her clit was rock-hard, and her vagina felt like a phial full of liquid. She was within a minute of coming.

She was, in spite of herself, frantically and enthusiastically licking the blonde's pussy, her tongue paying no attention to how sore it felt from exhaustion. She was sliding her finger deep inside the blonde's asshole, and was as surprised with the lack of shit on her finger as she was with the very fact that she had her finger in there.

He must...tell these girls...to clean themselves...thoroughly, she thought as she kept on tirelessly licking, her tongue seeming to have a mind of its own.

Finally, she orgasmed, screaming out loud; the blonde greedily lapped up her ooze. Then the blonde ejaculated a few seconds later, her come splashing all over Reba's face like a few squirts from a hose.

Gross! Reba thought, though the doped-up part of her mind liked it. The blonde got off of Reba and saw that the black girl was available for sex. As those two girls got together, Reba got up and went straight for the bedroom door, in search of the bathroom.

In the hall on the way to the bathroom, Reba saw Jenny returning. She put her arms around Reba and bent down to suck on her tits. When she got her lips around Reba's left nipple, Reba sighed briefly from the pleasure of that expert mouth. Still, she wanted to wash the come off her face, her slowed-down reaction time from the drugs delaying her stopping of sucking Jenny.

"Sorry, Jenny," she sighed. "I gotta wash...this come off...my face. I'll join you...in there...in a minute, OK?"

"OK," Jenny said, then straightened up and returned to the bedroom.

Reba quickly found the bathroom, went in, and cleaned her face. When she went back out into the hall, she thought, Sorry, Jenny, I'm not doing any more dyke stuff tonight. Because of her headache-inducing resistance to Broder's drugs, she felt herself regaining some control of her mind; and so instead of returning to the bedroom, she started to look around the rest of the house. She went downstairs, confident that Broder hadn't noticed her absence. She soon found the entrance to the basement, and went down the stairs.

By the foot of the stairs, she saw a large table littered with chemistry implements, all the things one would have to synthesize drugs. There were pills in plastic containers, powders, and liquids in phials.

"I knew it," she whispered in slurred syllables. "My chemistry teacher...is a real chemist, he's making dope. He sure practices...what he teaches."

She noticed a door at the far end of the room, but instead of satisfying her curiosity, she decided to go back up to the living room, find her clothes, get dressed and sneak out of the house before he noticed her missing.

When she got back up to the ground floor, she noticed it was much quieter than before: no more of the moaning, squealing, or sighs of sex. With the way that the drugs seemed to slow down time, she figured she must have been tripping out in the basement much longer than she thought she had.

All the lights were off, too; even the upstairs hallway light, which had been on when she went to the bathroom to wash her face, was now off. She approached the stairs to listen, faintly making out whispering and snoring sounds.

I'll get my clothes in a minute, she thought; I wanna know what's going on up there.

Her eyes barely adjusting to the dark, she slowly crept up the stairs, hoping Broder hadn't noticed she was missing. When she got to his bedroom, she found no one in it, not even him sleeping in his bed. Those whispering voices were more distinct now: they all sounded like his voice, but many voices whispering at the same time.

Is it the drugs making me think he's speaking with three or four voices? she thought. The source of the voices were coming from other rooms on the second floor. She crept over to one of them and slowly opened it as quietly as she could.

She saw six of the girls lying fast asleep, and though she heard his voice, she didn't see him anywhere in the room. She looked around, and correctly surmised that a recording of his voice was saying things for the girls to hear while they were sleeping.

"You love me, and I love you," his voice said softly from speakers on a wall by the girls' heads. "You'll happily do anything I want, for what I want is to love you and make you happy. Sex with me is sheer bliss, the highest happiness. Any kind of sex--oral, anal, or vaginal--will thrill you as much as it thrills me. You always enjoy sex with me, and with each other, right up to orgasm. You're always willing to share me with each other: there's no jealousy here. You always feel good with me. You enjoy showing your beautiful bodies to me and to each other, even showing your secret places...especially your secret places!"

You sick bastard, she thought. Still trying to fight off the effects of the drugs, she was making more progress. You poor girls, she thought, exploited by this creep, and you don't even know it; and I almost became one of you.

She closed the door carefully so as not to make a noise, then looked around the hall for any sign of Broder. Her eyes were better adjusted to the darkness, and luckily, she didn't see his silhouette anywhere. Still, fear crept into her mind: if he wasn't in bed sleeping, as the girls were, where was he? Did he know she was creeping about? If he did, why hadn't he caught her yet? Was he toying with her? Did he want to play games of psychological terror with her, to scare her with suspense before catching her? She had no idea where he was, or what he was doing.

She did, however, hear his voice coming from at least two other rooms. She crept over to the room next to the one she'd just looked into. She put her head to the door and listened: another recording, she correctly assumed, of his voice was giving the five remaining girls their 'instructions' for the next day.

"You will forget everything we did here tonight," the voice said. "You'll forget my servant. As soon as you leave my home, you'll forget everything. Just as with every visit you've made here before, you'll tell your parents you were sleeping over at a friend's house. You'll drug your parents' food tomorrow night with pills I'll give you, and while your moms and dads are high, you'll tell them to accept your 'sleeping over story' as true, believing it yourselves, for you won't be conscious of the story as a lie. This way, no one will be suspicious; after all, your parents would never understand our love for each other."

Bastard, she thought. She went over to a third bedroom and slowly opened the door. The naked servant slept there, and Broder's recorded voice was telling the servant never to leave his house or to be curious about the outside. "Remember," his voice said. "Bugs, bugs are everywhere out there, waiting to crawl all over your body and eat you alive. No one outside must see you, for they'll drag your naked body out to be exposed to the bugs. No one will sympathize with you: only I can protect you. Only I truly love you."

He's keeping her...for a slave! Reba thought. Then, in her still half stupor, she remembered that she still hadn't seen him anywhere up there! If those whispering voices were all recordings, then he certainly wasn't even in the second room, where she hadn't looked in. He wasn't in his bedroom. He was still up and about, as Reba was.

He must know I'm missing, she thought. Surely he would have noticed that I wasn't sleeping with the other girls. I'm his newest catch: he'd be most mindful of me. But where is he?

Suddenly the bathroom toilet was flushed. Assuming it was him in the bathroom, she hurried over to the stairs, hoping not to bump into anything in the enveloping darkness. She hurried down the stairs, getting enough light from the living room windows that she didn't slip and fall.

Feeling her way into the living room, she tried to find her uniform on the floor. Her feet felt piles of clothes, but in the dark it was impossible to find hers. She didn't dare turn on a light for fear of him knowing she was there. She picked up a pile of clothes and brought them to the window, hoping to be able to find hers in the dim light shining in from outside.

She brought pile after pile of clothes to the window, not wanting to exclude any, but always careful not to bring her body to the light. At one point, though, she hit her shin against a coffee table with a loud thud.

"Oww!" she grunted, then froze in terror: did he hear her?

Frantically, she fished through the piles of clothes to find her bra and panties. Everything looked about the same, though, not just the uniforms, but the dark socks, too, and it was hard to differentiate the colours of the underwear in the dim light. In spite of her euphoric high, she wanted to sob in despair.

She heard a creaking noise, not made by her. She froze again: he must have known she was there! She was in a dark corner, away from the window, so her body wouldn't be seen even though she could see the clothes there. But he had to have noticed the shuffling of the clothes.

She gave up on the foolish and frustrating task of trying to find her own clothes, and instead simply opted to steal another girl's, put them on, and get out fast. So she randomly grabbed a pair of panties, and was about to put them on when she felt a hand holding a wet, drugged cloth pushed against her face. The cloth smelled of medicine: another hand held her torso firmly against the torso behind her; she squealed muffled screams, and tried to kick and fight her way free, but the drug worked fast, and she was unconscious within seconds...

She woke up, still naked, gagged, and tied to a chair in a dark, dungeon-like room. She seemed to be in the basement again, but the table with the drugs wasn't there.

Broder, still in his bathrobe, and his Viagra erection poking a comical bulge out front, had a needle in his hand, getting it ready to give her a shot.

She was still a little woozy from the drugs of dinner, but she was conscious enough to know she was in terrible danger. She squealed unintelligibly for help, and fidgeted in her chair, which was bolted to the floor. He poked the needle in her arm and gave her the shot. It took effect within seconds, sedating her to the point of total disorientation.

She felt as though time were slowing down even more than from the original high. She vaguely felt herself being untied and made to stand up and walk into another room. The darkness now seemed exaggerated, like an infinite void: except for a dim glow of light directly ahead of her, like a thin rectangle going straight up and down, all was pitch black around her. In her stupor, she wasn't sure if she was dreaming or awake. She seemed to be lying on her back on a wooden plank, with wooden planks close on either side of her.

"W-where am I?" she asked in slurred words.

"You're with me," Broder said. "You were a naughty girl, wandering off like that and finding my lab."

"Y-you're the...bad one," she slurred. "Rapist."

"Rapist?" he said. "Nonsense. The girls loved the sex. So did you."

"You drugged us. Bastard. There was...no consent."

"There's age of consent. You're all eighteen years old. I know: I checked all your school records. In fact, all the boys and girls in grade twelve in our school had turned eighteen as of last month, by a lucky fluke. Rest assured, there's no statutory rape going on in this house." He put a laptop computer in front of her, ready to turn it on and show her a video of something.

"It's rape, even if...we're old enough. You drugged us!"

"Maybe in drugging you, I helped you find your real selves," he rationalized, turning on the computer. "I connected you girls with Brahman, the World Spirit of which we're each a part. My drug synthesis combines elements of ecstasy, LSD, mescalin, aphrodisiacs, and a host of other things in a most original combination of mine. It lubricates your vaginas and anal areas, and gives you clitoral erections. It also gives you the highest happiness, a truly mystical experience. All I did was to make you girls feel good. What's wrong with that? In your nirvanic bliss, nothing matters: everything's allowed, even sex."

"Bullshit!" she shouted. "You're scum, Mr. Broder."

"Broder? That's not my real name. I'm just plain old John Dickey from Nebraska. I tried giving my pretty female students in a high school there the same mind-altering experience, but I got caught, and had to flee the US. I settled here and changed by name to Bing Broder--I like Bing Crosby's music, and I chose a Jewish surname as part of a phoney life history, that of a Jewish convert to Catholicism, to throw the American police off the scent."

"They'll catch you."

"No, they won't." He clicked on an icon to get a video for Reba to watch. He had it on pause, ready to play.

"They'll catch you...I'll tell...you won't keep me here...I've fought...off your drugs...I can fight...off anything...I'll fight off...anything else...you give me."

"You won't fight off this," he said, then clicked PLAY. The video began.

Reba tried to focus to recognize the naked, screaming, sobbing girl on the computer screen. She had brown hair, large breasts, wispy brown pubic hair, and a slightly tanned body.

"Remember her?" he asked.

"Is that...?" Reba began, her eyes widening and her hair, as it were, standing on end when she knew who.

"Yes," he said. "Winnie Smits. This was filmed about three years ago, right on the night she--18 and about to graduate, as you girls here all are--went missing. I'm afraid the same will have to happen to you, my dear."

"You won't...get away...with this."

"Yes, I will. When I'm done twisting your mind, you'll want me to. You see, I can't let you leave this house; it's too dangerous--after all, you know too much, as Winnie does."

In the video, weeping Winnie kept quickly, frantically kicking, fidgeting, and brushing her hands on her arms, breasts, and body, as if trying to get something off her nakedness, though nothing was actually there.

"She was as heavily drugged as you are," he explained. "She once told me her deepest fear, insects. I always ask my girls what their deepest fears are, in case any of them, like you and Winnie, try to resist my pleasure-inducing drugs. If pleasure won't make you compliant, I'm then forced to resort to fear.

"Extreme states of euphoria and terror can make the mind more susceptible to manipulation, as Aldous Huxley explained in the revisiting of his dystopian novel. I'm sure your English teacher, Ms. Kiss, explained all that in detail in one of your classes, though you probably weren't listening at the time.

"My drugs can do both: induce fear and bliss. You and Winnie resisted the bliss; you won't be able to resist the fear. She couldn't, as you can see. She was convinced by my drugs that armies of cockroaches and fire ants and crawling all over her body, biting her."

"I'll resist," Reba said weakly, shivering in horror all the same.

"We'll see," he said; then Reba saw him close a door, or wooden plank, over that dimly glowing rectangular light that had been in front of her. Now, all was infinitely black around her. She heard hammering noises, the sound of nails being driven in the wood by her head, then by either side of her torso, then by her feet. After that, she heard the sound of dirt being thrown on the wood in front of her, some of it slipping through the cracks and dropping on her face and body. Was she being buried alive?

"Help!" she screamed. "Please! No!" She banged her fists and kicked at the wooden plank before her, but she was far too weak to break even the slightest hole in the wood.

"Will you comply?" he asked. She no longer heard dirt hitting the wood.

"Yes! I'll be good! You'll see! I'll be one...of your girls! I'll let you...fuck me...whenever you want! Just don't...bury me alive!" She said this, though in her mind, she would still try to resist his drugs...once he got her out and when her fear subsided, of course.

"How can I be sure you won't resist in the future?"

"How can I...prove I'll keep...my promise?"

"Repeat after me: I will stay in Mr. Broder's house."

Almost unconsciously, she said, "I will stay...in Mr. Broder's house."

"I will never leave this house," he said.

"I will never...leave this house."

"If I leave, the bad guy will bury me alive, and leave me to die."

"If I leave, the bad guy...will bury me alive, and leave me...to die."

They repeated this two more times, then Broder had her say, "I love Mr. Broder."

"I love...Mr. Broder."

"I love Mr. Broder," he said again.

"I love...Mr. Broder."

"I love Mr. Broder."

"I love...Mr. Broder," she repeated one more time.

"He loves me," he said.

"He loves me."

"He loves me."

"He loves me."

"He loves me," he said one more time.

"He loves me."

"I will do whatever he wants me to do, happily and willingly."

"I will do...whatever he wants...me to do, happily and...willingly."

They said this two more times as well. The wooden plank in front of her was then taken off, and she came out of the coffin, which was actually standing up straight, the foot of it bolted to the floor, in the middle of another dark room in his basement.

She came out in his arms, bawling and shaking in terror. He held her shaking naked body, stroking her hair gently and kissing her on the cheek. She felt his erection poking through his bathrobe against her stomach; she enjoyed the feeling.

"There there, baby," he said soothingly. "It's all over. I saved you."

"Y-you did?" she asked in sobs, confused in her stupor and disorientation as to what had actually just happened.

"Yes. A bad guy tried to kill you, but I stopped him, because I love you."

"You do?"

"Yes, of course I do." He kissed her teary cheek. "But the bad man is outside this house, waiting to get you, so you mustn't go outside, OK?"

"OK."

"Let's make love, sweetie."

"Yes, sir," she said, grinning up at him in ecstasy.

He led her out of the basement, up two flights of stairs, and into a spare bedroom on the third floor of the house, out of earshot of the sleeping girls on the second floor. They were still having recorded messages of his voice telling them what they had to do the next day, and during future visits.

Now that Reba's terror had subsided, she tried to regain a sense of orientation. There was something she had to do...what? He lay on the bed on his back, pulling his bathrobe open a little to expose his full erection.

Though part of her was disgusted at the sight of her middle-aged teacher's cock, the influence of the drugs made it impossible to resist him physically; furthermore, a large part of her mind eagerly, inexplicably wanted that hot rod pumping in her already soaking wet pussy! She got on the bed, and slowly sat on his cock.