The Refugee Predicament

He motioned to her jeans as his eyes devoured her chest. She slowly removed the jeans and revealed some ratty black panties. Her thighs looked delicious as Mr. Jones took the pants and shirt and shoved them into his desk.

His eyes didn't stop gawking at her as she was utterly humiliated, sniffling as tears rolled down her cheeks. The humiliation did not end as he got her to twirl for him to get a complete look.

As her ass was presented to him, he had to hold back the urge to grab her. The panties were modest, but that ass could not be contained. As she returned to face him, her face blushed with embarrassment.

"Thank you, Layla; now, if you will remove your underwear."

She suddenly looked up at him with a startle. "What? No, I can't... no one ev'r seen me... You said just my clothes..."

"Do you want to pass this class or not?"

Anger now entered her face. "Fine. Fail me. It's not like I'll be able to get into college anyway. I'm sure Mr. Williams will understand, and you'll be in... trouble."

She trailed off as Mr. Jones turned his laptop around to face her. He was recording everything? She appeared on a video in her underwear. He clicked some buttons, which showed a video of her removing her clothes. There is no sign she was being forced in any way; she looked complacent.

"You can either get naked, Layla, or I can send this video to every student in this school, every porn site, and of course, straight to your foster father."

She started to cry. She could not believe this was happening to her. She began to plead. "You'll go to jail, though."

"Frankly, I don't care. I would have been arrested years ago if this school knew half what I'd done. I'm also pretty damn rich. I'll be able to buy myself freedom in no time. However, Layla, what would your life be like if everyone in this school and your foster father knew you were a slut? No matter where you went, these videos would be online for everyone to enjoy. I have friends in ICE and could probably have you on the next plane back to Syria. Now all I want is a little thrill. You do what I want, you can pass this class, and nobody needs to see these videos."

Mr. Jones could see the confusion on her face. She was trying to piece together how she got into this situation and what options she had. Luckily for him, she was dumb. He couldn't believe he risked it all, but here he was. Either he'd be going to jail, or he'd be in this jailbait.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she replied, "Fine..."

"Maybe you are smarter than I give you credit for. Now, shall we proceed?"

Layla reached behind her back after a long pause and a huge sigh. Slowly she unhooked her bra; she looked humiliated as she took it off and handed it to him.

Now free from the bra, Chester was amazed by the perkiness and size of her tits. They must have been 36 Cs, and on her petite frame, they looked enormous.

Lust had taken over his mind as he motioned for her to come closer. As he wrapped his hands around her waist, she pulled back. He was in control now, though, and forced her closer to him. She submitted in his arms to the situation. With that, he started to grope her right tit. They were perfection, Chester thought, and it only pushed him further.

"No, please, Sir. This wasn't a part of the deal." As tears rolled down her eyes, she tried to make one last-minute plea for humanity that Mr. Jones had left behind.

As he continued to grope her, he sneered, "I can tell you like it. You are a refugee here with no family or friends, who can't even pass high school, but you have been blessed with one rocking body. I'm doing this for you and for me. Now stop whining and be the perfect slut you are."

The words hurt her, but Layla's body reacted differently. Her nipples were getting hard, and she was starting to get wet. The dissonance of this situation was too much for Layla to understand. She was humiliated, she was being raped, but her body enjoyed it? She tried to show that this was unacceptable to Mr. Jones, but she had no choice.

Chester had flashbacks to his prime, the hot chicks, and some of the students and their mothers; he would bang whenever he wanted. However, Layla was exceptional. It wasn't just the youthful feel and unbelievable body, but her level of submission. As he sucked on her tits, his other hand reached down into her panties. She wasn't just submitting; she was wet. He couldn't believe he was doing this to his student.

As he groped her luscious ass, he couldn't help to add a few playful smacks before ripping the cheap panties from her body. With each small sign of resistance, Mr. Jones gave another spank to her phat ass. As he groped her, he leaned in for an aggressive kiss. Soon Layla opened her mouth to allow his tongue to explore.

Instinctively his hands made their way to her teen pussy, which had never been trimmed. He inserted a finger as she moaned. She was so tight it took a real struggle to get the second one in. Once it entered, the moans of Layla got louder. The fact she needed no lubrication pushed him further.

He released her for a second, and the relief she felt was more of a surprise than anything. She looked at her teacher, this man blackmailing her, as he pulled down his pants and boxers and unleashed his throbbing stiff cock. She didn't move; she accepted her fate as he told her to get on her knees, and with that, his cock was inches from her mouth. The first cock she had ever seen in real life.

"Spit on it slut," she did what he commanded. "Look up at me. Yes, that's it, now suck it."

Layla did well for the first time. Chester couldn't take it much longer, and he gripped the back of her head and pushed his cock in deeper, forcing her to deep-throat him. She was inexperienced, but the softness of her mouth and the whole situation drove him to the edge. He wanted this moment to last forever, but it was too much for him.

As he reached his climax, he pulled out of her mouth and shot his load all over her face, and commanded her to lick his cock clean. Coming down from his orgasm, he was thankful nobody else was left in the school at this hour in the summer.

After being told to lick and swallow up the cum on her face and chest, she sat there motionless. She wasn't sure what all happened or why.

Mr. Jones returned her clothes back to her. "That's a great start; you'll pass this class easily with those skills."

She looked up at him with her face full of tears and shame etched all over. As she reached for her clothes to gain modesty, she wanted to run away as fast as possible. However, Mr. Jones stopped her, pulled a bag from under his desk, and handed it to her. As she received it, she looked back at him with an inquisitive look.

"You have terrible fashion sense. This is your outfit for class tomorrow."

She meekly said, "Can't we keep this private..."

"If you want me to keep our sex tape private, you will do whatever I say. You can keep the clothes, and one more thing, make sure you shave your pussy tonight."

Layla walked through the door of her foster home, the bag over her shoulder feeling both heavy and embarrassing. Her heart raced as she entered the house, hoping her foster father wouldn't be there. But as luck would have it, he was in the kitchen, washing dishes.

"Hey, Layla," he called out, facing her with a somewhat surprised expression. "You're back early. Did you work something out with Mr. Jones?"

Layla's cheeks flushed slightly, and she nodded, her eyes downcast. "Um, yes, I did."

Darren wiped his hands on a dish towel, "That's great to hear. You really need to pass this class."

Layla fidgeted with the bag strap as she replied, her voice soft. "Yeah, I know."

He walked closer, eyeing the bag she was holding. "What's in the bag, Layla?"

She hesitated for a moment before responding, her shyness evident.

"It's... it's a present."

Darren's eyebrows lifted in curiosity, and he took the bag from her hands. He reached inside and pulled out the contents: a push-up bra, a matching pair of thong panties, a tight pair of jeans, a midriff-baring shirt, and a pair of high heels. His lips curved into a smirk as he glanced at Layla, who was bright red.

"And what do we have here?" he remarked, his tone teasing.

Layla stammered, her embarrassment palpable. "I, um, I thought they were cute."

He couldn't help but chuckle softly, giving a little shake of his head. "Seems like you're ready to show off what you've got, huh?"

Layla's mortification deepened, and she looked down at her feet. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Without waiting for a response, Darren returned to the dishes, his demeanor nonchalant. "Well, have fun with your... new look."