Author's Note: I blame this one-shot on Stockholm Syndrome and the sheer amount of UST I have riding over there.

This is a pretty raunchy story; not for the faint of heart or people who have a terrible fear of observing Bella with other pairings. You've been warned.

Slut.

The word echoed and bounced around me in the halls. From lockers, from bathrooms, from classes; I heard it whispered and hissed and drawn on pretty little notes left on my desks. It was on the faces of every child that I passed, in their eyes. Every single student at Forks High, home of the Sparring Spartans, thought it as I passed them.

And I fucking loved it.

My name is Isabella Swan, and I am the school whore.

My title gains me merits—well, haters and merits. No one could pull off what I could, get away with what I've already done, wear what I wear. My snow colored spaghetti-strapped corset that offered more than an ample amount of cleavage, the tight little denim skirt that left nothing to imagination, the three inch high cream stained stilettos that checked on the tile, which warned the children of my approach. Not one of the teachers or staff dared breathe a word in my direction, and they'd all become acquainted seeing me in class every day, wearing entirely too much mascara and not enough clothes. Being the supposed daughter of one of the richest men in the state had its perks.

Girls would glare at me as I passed them. Teachers simply turned their heads. Every boy stared—some with wonder in their eyes, some with a pompous smirk. The condescending ones were the ones that I'd already had. The ones that I chewed up, spit out, and left for dead. See, they all loved me before. Who wouldn't? I could be sweet and charming, I was far more than intelligent enough to graduate with honors, I had a cute sense of humor; but in that same hand I could be the bitch you wished you'd never crossed paths with, I could look you up and down once and make you feel like less than scum. They all hated me deep down—the girls, the teachers, the boys.

But they all loved me during, while they relinquished themselves to me, while they wade into the waters of temptation and allowed me to handle them, to lead them to both hell and oblivion. They loved me as I lied beneath them, as their sweat beaded down from their brows and landed on the skin between my breasts, as I allowed them to tell me how beautiful I was.

But, oh, do they hate me after, for letting themselves become ensnared in my grip, for letting them have me how they wanted. For tempting them. For teasing them. I was the slut they vowed to never touch, and the same slut that caused tears to mist their eyes when they realized how weak they were.

Oh, yes, they did not like Isabella Swan, but they did all watch. Every girl spewed their two cents of gossip, then came to school the next day wearing something similar to my attire, only to shrivel away in embarrassment as their parents were called to pick them up. Every teacher—male and female alike—was caught staring at least twice. Every boy looked me over, was seduced and then discarded accordingly. I counted the numbers every day, and the look on all of their faces pleased me to no end. Hated or not, I was famous in Forks High School.

And I fucking loved it.

I sauntered into my senior honor's English class, my books clutched to my bouncing chest, aware of the eyes on me, basking in the attention. I slid into my normal seat, upfront and center of the class, waiting for him, waiting for my professor.

There was a minute till the bell would ring, and all of my classmates were already seated. A voice called out my name, and I looked around the room with my chin in my hands, bored, not wanting to waste his time with the blithering children who sat around me. In the middle of my row sat Mike Newton, well-known player on the football team. I gave a small grin and wiggled my fingers in his direction. He stood from his seat and made his way for me, for the empty seat beside me, and for only half a second I tensed. Behind Mike I spotted Eric Yorkie waving fanatically at me, and I gave him my biggest smile, to which he froze and stopped breathing.

"Hey, Bella," Mike greeted me, all pretty boy tan and smiles.

"Hey yourself," I replied coolly, turning my attention to my notebook to scribble idly on the cover.

"How are you today?"

"No complaints."

"Good, good. I'm fine myself," he grinned, ignoring that I hadn't reciprocated his question. "Hey, do you have a pen I could borrow?"

"Sure," I purred, reaching back into the knot in my hair, trailing it down the side of my neck and letting the tip dip down into my shirt, then flipping it over between my fingers and holding it out to him, keeping it near my chest. When he reached for it I moved my hand just to the side so his hand brushed across the front of my shirt.

"Sorry," he smiled in apology.

The bell rang, and the professor strolled in perfectly on cue, capturing my attention flawlessly before I had the chance to fully enjoy the boy's reaction.

God, was he young; no one knew how old he could really, possibly be—forever frozen in a 23 year olds 'youth. In my four years of attendance he never changed, never looked any different. He was tall, a deathly attractive man with evidently well-toned muscles that flexed beneath his crisp white shirt and brown, red and gold hair that fell onto his forehead when it rained, that stubbornly came into his left eye no matter how many times he pushed it back, wet or dry.

He threw his books on his desk forcefully and stood like one huge, lurking mass before us all; impossible to take your eyes off and unnatural to ignore. His glare darted to everyone in the class, lingering on Mike Newton, but skipping over me entirely, as if I hadn't even existed.

I swiped my tongue over my lower lip.

He began to lecture immediately, his angry, sharp cut tone dipped in warm honey and wrapped in rich velvet. He didn't often come to class pissed off, stressed out like he was at this moment; but his attitude today was in no way a rarity. I stared at his back, admiring the width of his shoulders, the narrowness of his hips, the way his ass seemed to be made from stone.

I groaned, so softly I was near positive none of my classmates heard me but from the way the professor's chalk screeched and cracked in half against the board, from how his skin was stretched over the long bones of his fingers as he stood unmoving, turned away from me, I had every reason to believe that he'd heard me.

He didn't turn. Instead he began barking out the remainder of the lesson as he wrote in perfect script on the board, not once looking into his books as he wrote down today's lesson plan. He shouted out the page number we were to get started on, then slammed himself into his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused on the wall just above my shoulder. I opened my legs, smiling wickedly when his eyes darted down beneath the desk catching a glance at my naked, shaven pussy. His knees hit the bottom of his desk with a thud and there was a low hiss coming from the front of the room. It wasn't loud in the least but the entire first row looked up curiously at the aggressive noise.

I grinned.

I sensed Newton's eyes on me all throughout the first half of class. I began to fidget intentionally; crossing and uncrossing my legs, tilting my head to the side to massage my neck, pulling my shirt down by the hem.

"Oh, sorry, Mikey," I breathed as my bare leg brushed against his.

"It's okay," he responded, that creepy-boy smile of his never leaving his face. He patted my knee in a friendly manner but failed to remove it once the action was over and done with.

I tossed Mike my prettiest smirk, batting my lashes at him while I watched the professor from the corner of my eye. I most definitely had his attention.

Mike's hand inched up my leg in an unhurried manner, and he was very careful not to look up at either me or the teacher as he feigned reading his textbook. His hands were large and rough, his fingers pretty long but not in a very attractive condition. I fidgeted again, more invitingly than before as he began to stroke my inner thigh.

His hand slowly disappeared into my skirt, and he moaned quietly to himself when he encountered nothing but flesh. I exhaled softly, slouching forward and crossing my arms, providing my lover with an excellent view of my breasts waiting to overflow out of my bra. I watched as he placed his other hand over his growing erection, then traced my slit idly, rubbing large, lazy circles over my clit before finally inserting his index finger inside if me. My head fell back with a sigh…

"…in a group of three or more."

Mike froze beside me, his muscles beyond tense as he locked gazes with the professor. I lifted my head once again, and smiled up at the teacher through my lashes, pulling my arms closer around me. He still did not look at me, but there was an undeniable heat that caressed my skin as he stood so close to my desk. Although my instructor didn't see, I winked at him as Mike reluctantly removed his hand, and I hoped that everyone saw. He pushed back from his seat and held out his hand to me, which I took without hesitation, then motioned two more boys over in our direction, where we all headed to the back of the class. I kept my gaze glued to the teacher as the boys brought chairs to the round little table I sat at.

I didn't really know much about the other two boys that joined us save for their names; Jacob and Jasper, fellow football players. They were eighteen as well. Jasper had a light complexion with dirty blonde hair that just came to his shoulders and the loveliest Texan accent I'd ever heard. Jacob was darker skinned, Native American, with dark hair and even darker eyes.

"So…what the hell are we doing?" Jasper asked, breaking the silence, looking to his friends for assistance, a slight blush crossing his cheeks as he looked to me briefly, as he glanced down at my cleavage.

"I wouldn't fucking know," Mike replied with a grin. "I wasn't exactly paying attention."

Before either of his companions could pose a question the professor stomped his way over to the door and mumbled to, "Keep working," because he would return in a few minutes.

The room was quiet for only a few seconds before the students took advantage of their freedom and socialized amongst themselves, joining into groups of six and seven now, English class pushed into the very backs of their small minds.

"So, boys," I began, "looks like we've got some unsupervised time."

Mike smirked and leaned into me and, to Jasper and Jacob's surprise, kissed me square on the mouth. Still somewhat stimulated by our previous, unfinished encounter I responded eagerly, darting my tongue inside of his mouth and grinding my lips against his. Our group mates looked on, obviously shocked, as we continued to kiss, and Mike's hands once again found its way into my skirt.

I sighed into his mouth as his first two fingers thrust in and out of my still damp pussy, his thumb pushing down on my clit where his fingers curled upward. Jasper and Jacob continued to look on with disbelief. All three of the boys knew of my reputation—hell, all of Forks did—but this? Fooling around in a classroom full of students with so little fucks to be given? It was so very taboo; almost unheard of, surreal.

I came on his hand in a single, little gasp, and all of my group mates, me excluded, turned about to see if anyone had witnessed what just happened in the back of the classroom, only to see that they were all continuing on with their inane conversations and chuckling at their inside jokes.

"Who's next?" I asked, arrogant now as Mike detached himself from me, but Jacob, already adjusted to the situation and getting more turned on by the minute, responded quickly, coming around to my side of the table with his chair and crashing his lips against mine.

My surprise was gone as soon as it had appeared and I didn't resist. Jacob was a hard kisser, demanding, and his tongue probed my mouth in powerful, even strokes as he slipped an arm around me. His hand had found and cupped my left breast not much sooner through my shirt, squeezing hard.

Mike's lips found my ear, and he whispered, "You owe me," as he guided my hand down to his lap where his pulsing erection was already out and waiting for me. Ever obedient, I slipped my hand around him, only somewhat disappointed as I began to jerk him off inside his pants. I'd felt and seen much better.

Jasper was eager to join his friends, and he extended his arm beneath the table to slide three fingers inside of my soaking cunt as he took hold of my free breast. Jacob found my idle hand and shoved it into his pants and his mouth left mine, buzzing with anticipation to receive the same relief that Mike would soon receive. I yanked both cocks furiously, aware that the bell would soon ring signaling transition period, and Jasper sat forward in his seat, sucking my earlobe into his mouth and biting down.

"Show us your tits," he whispered raggedly, and I didn't even have the chance to respond as Jacob began pulling and tugging at the hooks at my back, only stopping when the swell of my breasts and lacy bra were exposed.

I looked around the room, seeing if any of the students were still too distracted to notice the girl in the back getting ravished.

They were, and they hadn't.

As it was now, I could give a damn if the principal himself walked in and decided to watch.

Jasper made quick work of my bra, and my tits fell into his free hand as he tossed the flimsy material to the side. I moaned as he kissed and suckled them, still thrusting in and out of me beneath the table without an ounce of gentleness. I pumped the boys in my hand a little faster, and the three of us came together as one, Jacob kissing me again to either stifle my scream or his own, Mike's head falling to my shoulder with a grunt. The warm liquid of their arousal poured over my knuckles and into my hand, staining the boy's jeans, and Jasper's fingers glistened with my essence.

Quickly, the boys straightened themselves up, shoving their dicks away and buttoning their pants as I slowly licked off each of my filthy fingers, eyes only on Jasper as he continued to fondle my chest.

"There's only three minutes left of class today," a commanding voice sounded off at the front of the room. "Everybody back in your seats. We'll finish up tomorrow."

I hadn't even noticed the room go quiet, had no idea that the professor had returned, but I felt the electric intensity of his proximity in my very fingertips. I pulled my skirt back down to its original position and swiftly redid the back clasps of my corset, leaving my bra in the corner of the room, then sniffed as I stood and walked back to my seat in the front, Jasper tailing me instead of Mike now.

"Do you have plans tonight, darlin'? he asked once we were seated, his breathing still heavy. Poor Jasper was the only one that hadn't come.

"Not sure," I replied with a shrug.

"Don't be a tease now," he growled, his hand reaching for my thigh. "You owe me one," he said, repeating exactly what his friend had said to me previously. "Ben Cheney's having a party later tonight. Come by later. It'll be fun." His hand crept higher.

"I'll think about it," I said, crossing my legs and effectively breaking contact with him just as the bell rang and the professor dismissed the class. I was gathering my books when I felt that irresistible pull to the front again, as Mr. Cullen's husky, displeased voice floated into my eardrums.

"You hang back, Ms. Swan," he called, still not looking at me, moving toward his desk. "Please don't make the mistake of thinking I didn't hear you talking at the beginning of my class."

A few of the students snickered as they filed out because, after all, they hated me.

I leaned against my own desk until the last of the stragglers scrambled out, and Mike, Jacob and Jasper all made a point of smiling at me before leaving.

I was expecting a lecture on distracting others during his class, but Mr. Cullen instead moved to lock the classroom door, pulling the small white blinds down over the window, then spun on his heel and quickly stalked over to me. I squeaked as he trapped my wrist and led me to the corner of the class where I sat just a few minutes prior and "did my group work."

"What, Ms. Swan," he began, lifting my bra up from the floor to dangle in front of my face, "is this?"

"My bra, sir," I answered matter-of-factly, eyes downcast, and he frowned.

"And why, Isabella, are you not wearing it?" he breathed.

I shuddered, and closed my eyes for a moment to recollect myself.

"Because I'd thought you might prefer it off, Sir," I answered boldly, unable to hide my small, triumphant smile as he glanced down to my hardened nipples.

I was given no further warning as I was tossed upon the table and the back of my thighs were pressed against the edge of the hard plastic, as Mr. Cullen pressed himself fully against me and begun speaking rapidly in my ear.

"Don't think I didn't fucking see you fooling around with those boys back here, you little slut," he accused, whipping my bra to the floor. "How dare you? In my classroom? You don't think I'm going to let you get away with that, do you?"

It took an amount of strength I didn't know I possessed not to smile at his words. Oh, it had most certainly taken enough persuasion to get to this point but…

He undid and stepped out of his khaki slacks, reaching for my wrist again and forcing me to turn, grinding his hard cock against the seam of my ass. "Tell me what they did to you," he demanded, and without pretext shoved two fingers into me from behind. I jerked with a gasp.

"Jesus Christ, you're still wet, huh, my little whore? Go ahead, tell me what you did with them, baby."

My eyes rolled to the very back of my head as he inserted another of his large, masculine fingers, but I spoke up through clenched teeth regardless. "Michael Newton," I gasped, "touched me in the beginning of class…"

"Yes, and?" He reached around me to stroke my clit and I bucked hard against him, my chin dropping to my chest as I rocked my hips.

"And then we came to this corner with Jasper…and Jacob…but I don't remember their last names…"

"I don't give a damn about their names," he growled against my ear, pushing a fourth finger into me.

I screamed now, at being stretched out this way, but he shouted over my cry to, "Keep going!"

"Then…I made out with Mike and he f-fingered me…and I kissed Jacob while he touched me and I gave them both handjobs while Jasper got me off."

"And?"

"And then…then we came!" I cried out and slumped against his hand as I reached my orgasm, weak from the effort of standing.

He spun me around then, and hitched my skirt up over my thighs roughly. His boxers were gone now, in the same pile as my discarded bra and his khakis. Eyes wide with lust, Mr. Cullen placed his hands on either of my hips and slammed into me, no warning whatsoever.

I screamed again, and the table was pushed back a good foot at his sudden entry.

"Don't you fucking dare come again without my permission, little girl," he whispered, breath hot against the side of my face as he pulled my hair from its messy chignon and wrapped the length of it about his fist. He pulled out slowly, then thrust back into me again with delicious force. "You understand me? Answer me."

I whimpered with a nod, and this pleased him as he very swiftly pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth. "Good girl," he said.

Mr. Cullen's pace picked up in the beat of a heart so he was pounding into me relentlessly now. With each stroke my lower back crashed into the edge of the table behind me, and any other woman would have found this to be more than simple rough sex, but punishment as well. His hands on me were far from gentle and his grip was far too tight. He was still talking as he fucked me, the cuss words streaming out of his mouth as easily as any lecture he'd ever given.

"You like this, don't you, little girl? Tell me now. Say it," he hissed. "Tell me!"

The building pleasure was near impossible to ignore as the pressure mounted and I was almost afraid that my tongue would no longer work at this point. His hands and words were cruel, but they were just as arousing as his powerful cock gliding in and out of me in a coarse, unforgiving, never ending rhythm.

"Yes," I gasped. "I love it, Mr. Cullen. I love it. Please…" I was so close, so very close. Just seconds now, any second and I would be there…

I leaned back and wrapped my arms around his neck, my already limp legs around his waist, shifting us into a position that allowed him deeper penetration. He moaned loudly and his head fell forwards, his lips like a white flame as his tongue lathed my neck in open mouthed kisses. I jerked tense, and groaned in ecstasy as I felt the onslaught of my fourth orgasm that day begin to bombard me. With six more wild, furious pumps Mr. Cullen suddenly went rigid and came with a loud curse, then jerked himself out of me before I could fully obtain the same release. I cried out in frustration, in protest, but he ignored me as he continued to frig himself and shot a load onto my right thigh.

I didn't even have the chance to refuse before Mr. Cullen forced me to my knees and shoved his semi-hardened length into my mouth. He took control again at once, pushing his way to the back of my throat and leaning forward to unclasp the hooks of my corset, then pushing the straps from my arms so it hit the floor with a muted thud. His fingers traipsed down my shoulders and squeezed my breasts, the tips of his digits finding my hardened nipples and rolling them mercilessly. I could just barely resist touching myself as he played with me, and I was struggling to keep all of his length in my mouth now, slurping at him sloppily.

"Ah!" he exclaimed pinching my right nipple, to which I gave a loud shriek. "Suck it right, filthy girl, or I'll take you right across your desk and spank you blue!"

Saliva was beginning to drip from my mouth onto the floor, and Mr. Cullen groaned aloud.

"So fucking sloppy, Ms. Swan. Don't worry; I'll teach you soon enough. Faster, my little cunt, faster. Yes, yes, just like that…" he hissed. He pulled my nipples more roughly in his fingers and the combination of his hard touch and harsh words was almost too much to bear. I spread my legs wide, and slipped two fingers into my depths with ease, whimpering against his dick as he continued to slam into my mouth.

My pace quickened as his did, and we both unraveled together; him by my mouth and me by my own hand. His orgasm was warm and thick, and Mr. Cullen refused to allow me up until I consumed every last drop, only able to join him on my feet once I'd licked his shaft clean.

He immediately seized both of my arms in a death grip, whirling me around so that the desk was digging into my stomach again. Abruptly, my skirt was being torn from my body with little effort, and I shivered as it slipped down my bare legs, leaving me naked before him, before Mr. Cullen. His tongue licked and sucked my jaw as his fingers slipped between my thighs.

"You touched yourself while you fucked me with your mouth," he said huskily. "Who told you to?

"No one, Mr. Cullen," I breathed, and I yelped as his free hand made contact with the flesh beneath my ass.

"Who told you?" he snarled again, and his hand came down upon me over and over again as I answered in short breaths. He bit down on my earlobe hard, and landed yet another blow across my behind, then slipped the tips of his fingers into my soaking pussy before pumping once and smacking me again. I jumped and cried out in absolute shock as another orgasm ripped through me, leaving me panting and breathless as I wilted onto the desk, leaving me tired and once again deliciously sated as I felt Mr. Cullen's full lips between my shoulder blades.

As I ever slowly came down from my high, Mr. Cullen flipped me over onto my back and pulled my legs back up over his hips, sliding his arms beneath my back and holding me to him as he lovingly stroked my hair, and I just managed to drag my arms up around his neck. We stayed intertwined like this for an immeasurable amount of time before he dragged his face up from between my breasts with a breathtaking smile.

"You never disappoint, Mrs. Cullen," he muttered against my lips.

"We always aim to please, Mr. Cullen," I grinned, and sighed happily as he pressed his mouth against mine and kissed me with wild abandon.

"Don't ever let that child put his hands on you again, do you understand?"

My spine tingled at the hidden threat behind his words. "Yes," I breathed.

"Any of those children, for that matter," he added, and I felt a growl building in his chest. "I almost ripped their fucking heads from their throats."

"Edward," I said sharply.

"Okay," he sighed, "so long as they don't touch you again."

"Of course they aren't touching me again," I purred. "Limit one ride per ticket."

"And I own the fucking park."

I laughed and stroked my fingers through his messy hair. "That's a good husband."

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too, Edward," I murmured staring into my favorite golden eyes, and I saw my own reflected back in his gaze. He hugged me close to him, then pulled me up off the desk and onto my feet, followed by giving me another swift pat on the bottom.

"Good, now get dressed and be off to your next class, Ms. Swan. You missed more than half of your next class," he reprimanded me as he slipped his briefs and khakis back up his legs.

"I would, but you tore my skirt in half, Mr. Cullen."

"That sounds like a personal problem," he said, no longer facing me or interested in my presence. I gave his back a genuine, love filled smile. And then he gave me a grin over his shoulder, eyes gleaming as he said, "Get dressed and get the fuck out. No one cares what you do or don't wear at this point, my little Slut."