(spoiler warning, illustration link at the end of the story)
Zan wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling it moist and hot. She closed her eyes, trying to cope with the unbearable heat roasting her and the rest of the classroom. Even though it was barely the end of the spring, the whole city was burning, making it twice harder for Zan to sit at her desk for six hours a day and try not to fall asleep or go nuts.
'Are you taking a nap, miss Zan?' A sharp, familiar voice suddenly opened her eyes wide. Miss B. was giving her a long gaze, her green eyes closed into a slight squint.
'No' she replied, promptly, barely concealing the venom in her voice. The teacher sniffed, watching her for one more moment, and she turned around, resuming her scribbling on the black board.
'Bitch' huffed the blue girl, as she shifted on the chair, feeling more sweat drops forming on her chest.
As nobody knew her real name, the students politely and sometimes fearfully called her 'Miss B.', but she was also known as 'Miss G' between those that had spent years with her. It was the best name such a plastic whore could attain, her huge, unholy breasts she lewdly exposed with push-ups, the round, thick ass stretching her skirt beyond limits and the sandy blonde hair framing her mature face proving her worth. Zan had no doubt she was a capable literature teacher, but no use, if she was such a shrew. Set aside the mockery and low grades she pressured her students with, she was also extremely demanding and strict. It was more than weird to see such a bombshell in a classroom, especially when she was by excellence a rigorous and sometimes hypocritical teacher. She scolded girls for wearing the slightest touch of make up, while her own thick lips were dripping with lipstick, she scolded boys for wearing short pants, while her own long legs were almost fully exposed, choked by tight stockings and enforced by a pair of high heeled shoes. Only the principal had enough authority and courage to make her cover her usually half-bare breasts. There was a lot to say about Miss B., but one thing concerned Zan in particular.
She could hear the constant loud voice of the teacher who kept writing on the board, but the half demon chose to ignore it once more. She was already frustrated enough by the heat, she was tired and hungry, in absolutely no mood for school. Her hand picked up a pencil, as she began to absently doodle on her notebook, her eyes fixing Miss B.'s bum, occasionally drifting on her arms which were lively pressing the chalk against the black surface. Even though she was mean, Zan felt some sort of attraction for the woman, mainly due to the fact that she was the only real person in her life capable of fulfilling her romantic fantasies. Everyone could feel the teacher's sexual aura, her feminine energy bursting through the air as she spoke, as she arched her body in clean, calculated moves, as she talked about her subject, as she spat witty remarks and laughed heartily. But nobody could experience it.
Half the classroom was taking, or took private lessons with her, and oddly enough, no guy could confirm the reason behind her outfits and shapes. In other words, two boys got expelled for trying to hit on her, while lots of others were purely disappointed because she was not the 'slut teacher' she was expected to be. Although she was probably past 40, she had no husband, nor relationship, nor the slightest intention or attempt to use any of her students for personal pleasure.
Zan often found herself drooling, craving for her strong, freckled breasts, for her big, meaty lips, for her wide, fertile hips while clenching her fists as she gazed at her test grades or as she received venomous remarks from her. Oddly enough, Miss B. had much more sympathy for her than for other students for some reason. Others failed to pass the year for being far less arrogant than Zan was during literature classes. This, however, was not enough to fuel her love, and she quickly dropped the thought of any attempt to get close to her teacher, labeling her as a mere plastic toy to watch, just like any other woman from the porn sites she used to visit so often. Moreover, she also tried to get over any temptation, but Miss B. was still a source of fantasy for her dirty mind. The blue girl watched her come towards her desk, charmed by the elegant sway of her hips, by the perfect, smooth legs, by the bouncing breasts~
She suddenly shuddered, as she felt the notebook slip from below her hands.
'What is this?' Asked the teacher, as she snatched it and looked over her slim glasses to see a crafty sketch of her own self, filtered through the sexual needs of a troubled teenager. Zan could feel her heart stop, as the sweat froze on her spine, the floor running from below her feet. She had no idea what to say. The sound of the notebook slamming her desk shook her, as the familiar voice slashed her like a blade.
'I've had enough with your attitude, miss Zan. I expect you after the hours end in my cabinet.' She said plainly, and went back to the board. The blue girl sighed and covered her face with her hands, as some students turned to watch her now and then, trying to show some compassion after she had received her death sentence.
'I can't believe this...' mumbled Zan, as she dragged her feet to Miss B's cabinet. She knocked at the door, taking a deep breath, and entered the small chamber. The teacher was sitting at her desk, writing down something on a notebook, and she greeted the half demon with a slight nod.
'You disappointed me, Zan...' she said, a note of remorse sneaking in her voice. 'I wasn't expecting this from you.'
'I'm sorry, Miss B., I promise I will write the whole lesson at home, I was just tired and~'
'You know how much I care about your excuses, Zan. Besides, it's not the fact that you weren't paying attention that made me call you, it's the fact that... you drew me quite precisely...in a bare outfit, let's say. You know what I'm talking about.'
'It's just a doodle, it's not you I drew there I~'
'Do not interrupt me, please!' Her loud hiss cut through Zan's excuse like a hot knife through butter. 'I have seen you glare at me countless times. Now, let's not waste anymore time. I will report this to the principal, you are free to find yourself a new high school from tomorrow',she landed the much feared verdict.
'No, no, no!' Desperately cried Zan. 'This will ruin my future! Please, I'm sorry, there must be a way~'
'I've already forgiven you more times than any other student, Zan. It's time for you to leave.' She said on a calm, cold voice. The air froze for a moment.
'Then why do you dress yourself like this!?' Exploded Zan, slamming her fists on the desk. 'Why do you tempt everyone, why do you tease us, hm?! Is this a joke? Is it? Or you just love to expel students?!' She barked, as she got closer and closer to the slightly surprised teacher.
'Calm down, unless you don't want to continue your academic life in any other high school, missy.' Came a calm reply.
'Yeah, yeah, I'll do that!' Growled Zan, as she went to a rack of lockers at the back of the room, opening every door and frantically searching for something.
'What in the name of God are you doing? This is the last time I will ask you to calm down and leave!' Cried Miss B., as Zan picked up something from one of the lockers.
'This is prefect! Just what I need to tame this whore.. Look like fortune smiles upon me today, Miss Butt.' Grinned the blue girl, as she stretched a roll of thick thread in her hands. She then turned to the teacher, the corners of her lips arching in a devilish smile.
Then, Miss B. experienced, probably for the first time in her life, the feeling of a rough, muscled foot pummeling her chest with the heel of a leather boot. She squeaked, her eyes opening wide in surprise, as she was thrown to the ground by the brutal kick. Feeling the sudden shock, she tried to breathe while figuring out what was going on. She felt something pull her by the hair, and saw Zan's strong bicep clench and throw back in the chair. In mere seconds her arms were already tied to the chair; she tried to yell for help, but her mouth got stuffed by Zan's thumb, making her gurgle and choke.
'Listen to me, bitch.' Spat Zan, as she sat on Miss B.'s lap, fulfilling one of her lifetime fantasies without even caring too much. Her hand's iron grip prevented the mature woman from saying anything, but she still squirmed. 'I said listen!' Erupted Zan, as she bashed the woman breasts with her own, mashing her into the chair, fulfilling another fantasy without even noticing. She was just too angry to care. 'Look into my eyes!' She shook the woman's head with her strong hand.
Miss B. looked terrified. She was sweating like a bitch, feeling Zan's massive body pin her like a giant rock, squashing her under its weight.
'I will teach you a lesson' said the blue girl clearly and loudly. 'I will teach you not to act like the slut you are anymore. Do you understand?' She talked as if she tried to explain something to a child, looking straight into the big, scared, green eyes. The teacher yelped she tried to squirm, but Zan could feel her strength fade in seconds, her struggles being less and less confident. She even tried to bite Zan's finger, but all she could do was chew on it, receiving a loud slap as punishment. Now, the situation was already tensed enough. The angry redhead pondered a moment, surprised by her own savage reaction, feeling her pulse change, heart going amok. She was already dead. What could she lose?
'I am going to have you. I always dreamed of breaking you.. of seeding you. I will have you, no matter what, do you understand, slut?' The unbearable heat was just about to reach a new limit as Zan gripped the teacher's jaw, opening her mouth. Looking at her for a second, she launched her demonic, elongated tongue into a lusty kiss. She felt Miss B.'s scared tongue trying to cower, and curled her own around it, squeezing it as she kissed the woman wildly, releasing all the frustration and pressure she had been gathering for so long. She was finally there. In front of her plastic toy. Nothing else would matter, consequences were nothing compared to the taste of her hot, shy, tongue, her thick, red lips or her exquisite saliva. Zan knew about the small amount of aphrodisiac in her demonic spit, and soon, she was pleased to see that the shrew her literature teacher once was began to relax, her tongue starting to take part in the play, making slow, awkward moves while the blue teenager claimed her.
Her mumbles became fainter and fainter, so did her squirms, and soon, she was just an useless plaything resting into Zan's arms with an euphoric look on her face. The room was filled with the smell of her pussy, leaking juice all over the chair, the large quantity of lust fluid gathering in a small whirlpool on the floor. 'Now, let's see what we have here...' hummed Zan, as she lowered her head, one hand still holding the woman's mouth closed. She almost coughed as the strong scent invaded her lungs, almost intoxicating her. She whistled as she saw a huge camel toe, an engorged pussy that betrayed decades of neglecting. That must have been the reason behind Miss B.'s sluttish outfits. She was so encumbered by her own sexual needs that she felt normal to expose herself like that.. But why didn't she at least wear that madness off by masturbating? And how could she resist the need of having sex anyway?
The fresh, rose lips dripped thick layers of nectar, looking so fresh and tasty, but Zan was way too aroused to lick it clean. Her balls were crying out, cum painfully churning inside them, as her massive meat slab began to lift her skirt, attracting Miss B.'s look. Her eyes popped wide when she saw the massive blue member fueled by a bag stretched by two apple sized balls. It had a thick vein on its top, throbbing as blood pumped through it, and the small, thick head had some weird spikes around it. She had no idea how that could be possible, she had no idea a cock could be that big and most of all, when she realized that the thing was pointed at her, she had no idea how it would fit inside.
..and tried to scream, to moan, to beg, to squirm, to do anything that would prevent the slow moving object from rubbing its tip against her aching lips, but nothing could stop the tensed, muscled brute Zan was. Her own sticky essence began to mix with the teenager's hot precum, turning into a thick, smelly slime. Suddenly, Zan thrust her cock inside, shoving it tip-deep into the wet, virgin-tight folds. The teacher closed her eyes and shivered, moaning, while Zan teased her, rubbing the spiked head inside, milking her of even more juice, until she started to push. At first, it felt impossible. It was just way too tight for the blue monster cock to fit inside, but soon, just as the mature woman's growls and moans became more and more desperate, the cock began to slip inside, stretching it's way though. After one painful push, three quarters of it were inside, reaching the womb's vulva and pumping some pre inside.
The retraction was no less mind-breaking for the poor teacher, her eyes rolling as she felt the huge worm crawl back, the head's spikes scratching her tight walls, sending her on the peaks of exultation.
The next penetration went smoother, the third even more, and so on, as the vagina started to stretch and oil itself with precum and girly nectar. After few seconds, Zan felt the woman quiver in her arms, as she prematurely gushed, filling her urethra with a violent jet of girl orgasm. It felt divine, the heat, the euphoria, the physic pleasure and the psychic satisfaction Zan felt while sexually dominating her literature teacher, fulfilling the greatest fantasy she ever had. Miss B.'s aphrodisiac-encumbered brain gave up morality and let her loose, her eyes closing slowly as she felt the monstrous student claim her.
As time passed, they were both shoulder deep in a pool of passion and sweat, the initial rape turning into a wild mating ritual. Zan's muscles were working at full strength, her hips were on a burnout, and her cock was begging for release, throbbing inside the clutches of Miss B.'s puss. Her thick balls splashed the juices pooling under the engorged camel toe as they bashed its base with each thrust. Zan pushed, and pushed, and pushed, losing her breath, as the woman kept squirting against the cock, pressuring it beyond limits. Only a violent jet of hot, boiling cream pushed the squirt back out of her pee hole, flooding the woman. Miss B. had no idea what that feeling was, there were so many fluids fighting over inside, she knew men came small amounts of cream, but this seemed unreal. Zan pumped more and more, her thick yogurt washing everything in its wake, filling the teacher's womb to the brim, and after few seconds, she watched as the belly began to slightly bulge. The freaky teenager waited for a moment, then let her cock out. A whole river gushed out of the thick lips, the bulk of piling between Miss B.'s thighs and starting to drain on the floor. With a final stroke, the dick girl spat one more rope of cum on the woman's face, then got up and crashed her butt on desk opposite to the chair. Her top was still on, but it was soaked with soaked with sweat; her skirt was resting on the floor.
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She was panting so hard, and was assaulted by so many feelings she didn't even know what to say or what to do. Feeling happier than ever, she gave Miss B. a long, affectionate kiss, and left the room, after catching her breath, ready to face whatever might come. The teacher stayed there, wasted after the violent orgasms she had had for hours, until she finally had enough strength set herself free. She got up after endless struggles, and felt hot cum leak on her legs from her still burning vagina. She exited the cabinet, without even bothering to wipe off the cum of her face, not what to think. Nor what to feel.