Sweltings Academy Ch. 04

"But sir, my nipples are wet now from the solution, and everyone will be able to see through my shirt!" I protested with a strange eagerness, feeling aroused at the thought of leaving his office this way.

"Not everyone, Miss Adair. Merely Coach Marshal. Unless you plan to parade around the school. That could prove very amusing. Should I call Stan to escort you to your detention?" His smile was sinister but sexy.

I responded with a glare, and he laughingly finished, "You will need to return to my office at 4:45 for the next application of solution. That will be all."

***

Coach Marshal was a well-built man. Everything about him was hard, muscular, and big. Including, according to rumor, his cock. It was the object of everyone's whispered fantasies. He was bald and tanned, and his piercing blue eyes immediately took in my rosy nipples rubbing against my shirt. He smiled lecherously. This was going to be a long hour.

"Okay, girl, I don't call you little whores anything but your first names, and they said yours is Harmony. Is that right?"

"Yes," I responded, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of that masculinity so near me.

Without warning he swatted my ass. "Now, I call you Harmony, but you better call me sir. Got it?" I fantasize about being spanked sometimes, but it almost never feels as good in reality as it did when Coach Marshal did it just then. My "Yes sir" came out as a moan, and he raised his eyebrows sneeringly.

"Did you like that?" His voice was taunting as he did it again, and my "Yes sir" came out exactly like it did before, with slightly more emphasis on the "yes." He laughed in a deep masculine way and observed, "I can spank you for hours if you get on your knees down there and let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours. I bet you are so tight." Okay, I could not let this man fuck me. No. No no no. I took a deep breath and gave him my practiced, flirtatious look of seduction, the one that doesn't mean anything real. The one that means I am in control.

"Sir, it makes me incredibly horny just thinking about you plowing into my pussy. I wish I could let you spank me and spank me. But I promised Mr. Ash I wouldn't do anything, so I can't say yes." Wow. I had managed to sound articulate.

He nodded and shifted his tone a little. "I guess we should get started with this detention, then. Mr. Jacobs has requested that I educate you about how to properly comport yourself. Why don't we have a seat on this couch. I have an instructional video for you to watch, and then we will discuss it."

"Thank you, sir," I responded, sinking into the comfortable leather of his couch as he pressed play on the remote control.

The girl in the video was wearing a school uniform. It was obvious she did not have a bra on because the shirt was wet and clinging to her breasts. Her dark nipples were visible. He paused on an image of her which clearly emphasized her breasts.

"See how that girl isn't wearing a bra?" Coach Marshal asked. I said, "Yes, sir." He continued, "That is a direct invitation for a man to grab her tits. All the men around her are staring at her because they want to put those tits in their mouths and suck on them or bite them. Some men might be thinking about using nipple clamps on those jugs. Some men are thinking about fucking her tits or cumming on them and making that whore lick it up. Now, Harmony, I couldn't help noticing that you aren't wearing a bra. Is that because you are a slut who wants men to do those things to you?"

I gulped. "No, sir. Mr. Ash made me take it off."

I was uncomfortably aware of his eyes staring longingly at my tits. He looked incredulous. Without raising his eyes from my chest, he said, "Maybe he did, but that doesn't explain why your nipples got so hard when I was talking about what everyone was thinking about. Or why they look like they're getting harder now while I'm staring at them. You like not wearing a bra, don't you? You love it that I'm just staring at that huge rack?"

Gulp. He was right. I tried to avoid lying as a rule, so I responded, "Yes, sir."

The smile on his face was triumphant as he moved closer to me. "Take off your shirt and let me see those jugs," he commanded. It was not a request, so I complied. His eyes roved across them, making my nipples were so hard they were painful. Usually my nipples are pink, but the blood rushing to them flushed them to a deep red. He began a running commentary: "Yes, Harmony, I can see you are getting turned on by showing me your tits. I'm thinking about squeezing them hard. Mr. Ash told me you like it rough, and I have enough muscle to make you squirm. I'd squeeze your left tit till you were squirming on this couch, and then I'd do the right one. Left. Right. Left. Right. And then I'd put one in my mouth. All the way in. It's a big tit, but I could make it fit. And I would bite it. You would like it. Why don't you just let me do it? I can see that you want it."

I did want it. But there were only forty-five minutes of detention left. I could make it. I knew I could. So I told him again that he was making me horny, but I couldn't let him touch me. He raised an eyebrow and responded, "Good. I've got a lot more to tell you about than how I want to play with those jugs. And I'm enjoying watching you try to fight this." He retreated back to his side of the couch and pushed play. The scene switched and the girl was telling the camera how she wanted someone to use her like a little fuck toy. My pussy clenched with desire, and then the scene switched again to show a man taking her from behind, commenting on how tight her pussy was. She was writhing and moaning as he fucked her. I had never watched someone have sex before. Unless you count the time Mr. Ash fucked me in front of the mirror, but I couldn't exactly concentrate on anything but how good he felt. Coach Marshal paused a shot of the girl with her head thrown back an a scream of pleasure.

"Look at the slut. She knows she's on camera, and she loves it. He's fucking her like she's a dog, and she loves it. Did you hear how she was screaming? Do you scream like that when Mr. Ash fucks you?"

Coach Marshal had made a mistake by mentioning Mr. Ash, even though he may have nearly countered it by bringing up the way I scream. I really did not want to fuck anyone but Mr. Ash. I knew that my desire for Coach Marshal was entirely a result of the solution Mr. Ash had applied. It was not hard for me to reply, "Sir, no offense, but I am not allowed to discuss my sessions with Mr. Ash."

Coach Marshal laughed his deep laugh again and continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Yeah, I bet you scream like a little whore. I could fuck you real good, too. You would scream just like that. You wouldn't be able to help yourself. I bet you're wet right now just thinking about it. Take off your skirt and your panties and let me see if you are."

I stood to comply. I blushed at the expression on his face when he realized I wasn't wearing panties. He nearly shouted, "Damn, bitch, you came in here pretending to be all proper, but you were hoping I would fuck you, weren't you? Why else would you come in here without panties? Sit back down, whore. I can see that you're dripping wet, and it won't be long before I'm making you scream." I barely managed to sit without plastering myself against him. He moved to put his arm around me, and he pulled me across his lap. This was getting serious.

He pressed play. The scene switched to show the girl on top of the guy. Both of them were facing the camera, and she was as limp as a rag doll in her ecstasy as he fucked her in this position. His red, engorged cock was pounding her pussy fast and hard, and she was bouncing with the strength of his thrusts as he pushed her and pulled her onto and off of his cock. His balls were bouncing up and down, and I was hypnotized by them. Coach Marshal pushed pause again, and this time I knew I was a goner. So did he, most likely.

He rested his hand in the same sensitive area Mr. Jacobs had explored earlier, and he growled at me, "Harmony, I want to stick this finger in your pussy. Look at how big it is. I can see that you are turned on by the idea of being fucked like that, and if you let me loosen you up, I can do it to you. I have a real big cock, and I don't want to hurt you." All I could manage was a moan. I had never felt more aroused in my entire life. He was waiting, stroking my skin with teasing strokes, and I was trying to tilt my hips until he touched my pussy, hoping that if I didn't agree verbally this wouldn't count. He laughed softly at my efforts and said, "Whoa, Harmony, you're not getting off that easy. Tell me to do it, and I'll do it. Otherwise, you're going to leave here with a dripping, unsatisfied snatch."

I groaned. This was going to keep happening all day. And what was I waiting for? This was what Mr. Ash actually wanted me to do. Mr. Ash wanted to punish me, and I suddenly realized that whatever Aubrey said, I would like whatever he did to me. I would also like Coach Marshal to fuck me. Hard. With a surge or relief, I capitulated. "Coach Marshal, I want you to finger fuck me and then fuck me like they're fucking on the video. I hope your balls bounce up and down like that guy's. That is so hot. You can spank me later if you want. I know I'm a slut for asking you to do these things to me. But I really need you to fuck me. I can't take it anymore."

When his finger plowed into my pussy, I screamed in ecstasy. He was laughing again, apparently his favorite thing to do, and it turned me on more. He plunged his finger in again and again, and I rode his hand to orgasm, screaming the word that was pounding through my brain over and over, "YES YES YES YES YES!"

He let me recover a moment before he told me to bend over. Then he spanked me. "I told you to say 'Yes, sir,' whore," he growled as he spanked me again. I moaned with pleasure. "Sir, would you spank me again?" I asked breathily. As he obliged, he said, "Now what do you call me?" I screamed "Sir!" as his hand came down again. And again. And again.

Then he stopped, and I had just realized he was removing his pants when he grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. We were both facing the television as he pushed play. The couple on the screen resumed their rhythmic pulsing, and he lifted me up and impaled me on his massive cock. It was heaven. He let go of my waist, grabbed my tits in both hands and pulled me back until he could speak in my ear. He was squeezing my tits so hard I was crying tears of pleasure. Then he growled in my ear, "You love this, don't you?" I moaned, but it wasn't enough for him. "You better tell me how much you love it, whore," he grunted as he bucked his hips, jostling me just enough to tease.

"I love your hands on my tits," I grunted in response. "You're squeezing them so hard, and it makes me feel so wet. Your cock is so big, and I know you're going to pound it so hard into me. It makes me so hot that we're watching that video, too. Oh God, that's so good, please don't stop!" The last sentence was because he had bounced me harder on his lap, raising and lowering me briefly on his huge rod of steel.

He let go of my tits and grabbed my waist, literally screwing me up and down his huge shaft. It felt even better than it looked. "Start screaming, bitch," he ordered. "You tell me what I'm doing to that tight, wet pussy, whore."

I had been moaning and whimpering, but I managed to utter a series of half-grunt, half-screams as he pounded my vulnerable, sensitive pussy: "OH-GOD-SIR! THAT-FEELS-S0-FUCKING-GOOD! POUND-MY-PUSSY! " He slowed down the rhythm a little and came to a brief stop, reaching around to massage my clitoris. I had a crashing orgasm, pulsing and pulsing around his heavy shaft.

He wasn't done with me. "Yeah, I knew you were the type of girl who would let me fuck her like this. You like it. Your cunt is squeezing the shit out of my cock, so I know you like it. You better tell me you want more." He started to raise me up his shaft again. "Yes, sir," I breathed. "Well you better fucking keep me reassured while I pound that pussy of yours," he said, as he shoved me back down hard onto his cock. "Yes, sir!" I moaned. I felt his balls slapping against me, and they punctuated my screams of "YES SIR" as he thrust me up and down like a toy on his humongous dick. He asked every two or three times if I liked it, if it made me wet, if I was a whore, and I always responded with a "Yes sir." I came again and again in wave after wave of pleasure.

Finally, he pulled me off his lap. I sprawled in a heap against the arm of the coach. He stood above me, rubbing that giant piece of meat that had brought me so much pleasure. He was grunting, "I'm going to cum on your tits, slut. That's why you came in here with no bra, to taunt me with them. Tell me you're going to like it when I splatter those tits with my jizz, whore. Tell me you want me to cum on your tits."

As I watched him move his hands on his shaft, I realized that I really did want him to cum on my tits. "Cum on my tits, sir, please cum on my tits! I want you to, I was hoping you would do it as soon as I saw you! You squeezed them so good earlier. Everything was so good. It would just be so perfect if you shot your cum all over them and I could lick it off later." I only stopped begging because his cum was arcing across the inches between us, dropping on my tits in pearly ropes. Coach Marshal was winded, but he looked pleased. For the first time all day, I felt satisfied.

Suddenly, I became aware of Mr. Ash's presence. It was kind of hard to ignore it, given that he was applauding slowly and meaningfully. I quickly tried to cover myself, embarrassed to be found with another man's cum spattered on my skin. His eyes flickered across my naked, used body, and he looked impressed. "Miss Adair, you have been a very naughty girl. Coach Marshal, will you please escort Miss Adair to my office?"

"With pleasure," Coach Marshal grinned. I staggered to my feet, pulling on my clothes. I shuddered as I imagined all the things that could happen in Mr. Ash's office. I didn't know whether to be afraid or excited, so I settled for both as Coach Marshal began guiding me toward Mr. Ash's office.