Technically Not a Story

"One down," said Victor, who stood and approached Chelsea.

"Don't you dare turn me into some stupid little bimbo like these two. Don't you fucking dare, Victor!" she said warily. Nonetheless, she stood stock still, passively watching him come at her.

"Language! I realize you're under stress, but the next young lady to use such language I really will have to reprimand," scolded Mrs. Jamison.

"You know Chelsea, I really don't think you're such a bad girl as you pretend to be," Victor said, pulling her up tight against him, those gigantic pale tits of her squashing against his chest.

"Great. Except I don't give a shit about your approval," she retorted angrily.

"Only I think you do, Chelsea. Look at yourself. You're not a cutter. You have light blonde hair. I mean... how much did that purse cost?"

"It's a handbag, not a purse, and it cost more than your car, loser."

"See? What goth girl is worried about having the right designer purse? You know what I think you are is a delicate little blonde sex bomb who's just posing as goth. Eh? You're a poser, aren't you?"

"I..." she frowned. "I... guess I am."

"So I tell you what. Let's turn the tables. Goth girls are proud of who they are, right? They don't hide it or make apologies."

"Damn straight."

"Good. So, since you're a naked blonde with pink nails and heart earrings and a tongue piercing any man would give an arm and a leg to get licked by... be proud of it. Own that delicate fluffy sexy submissive man-pleasing little blonde tart that you are."

"Wait, my nails aren't... my tongue... I'm not... I'm..." Chelsea blinked - and realized she had long fake eyelashes to replace the thick layer of black eyeliner. Her hair suddenly sported pigtails held by little pink hairbands, to match her pink polish. Glitter was sprinkled all across her bare chest, and the ring in her nose had moved and reshaped itself to decorate her tongue.

"Now don't you feel better Chelsea, getting to really be yourself and not have to pretend any more? So goth."

Chelsea giggled. "Totes, Victor! I feel like a bajillion buckeroonies! I don't have to worry about my folks complaining about how I look any more, or boys not liking me, or people being intimidated by me."

"Yep. Who'd be intimidated by this."

She giggled harder. "Fer sure! I'm really excited to be proud of who I am now. Like, do you think I could tell my friends I'm finally done pretending? And my family?"

"Tell ya what - why don't you take over Mrs. Jamison's desk and send everyone you know a personal snapchat to show them how comfortable you are in your body. Don't stop until you've shown everyone what a sexy silly babealicious piece of ass you are, OK?"

"Great! I can't wait to show everybody." She pointed at the door. "Guess I already showed one guy without meaning to!"

"Guy? What guy?" He looked at the door and just caught sight of Carl darting away from the window. Victor sighed, and after a moment's pause, the balding janitor came in through the door as Chelsea settled onto the teacher's desk, spreading her twat for her camera phone.

"Watching again, Carl?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Thought I might've gotten away this time."

Mrs. Jamison arched a neatly sculpted eyebrow. "Again? You've caught him at this sort of behavior before?"

Carl shrugged. "Victor's a bit of a wildcat, and I see a lot more that goes on around here than most. Ya never know exactly how you might get caught up in the whirlwind, I've found"

"Yep. Carl's caught me in more than a few compromising positions. But he's a good guy - he helps me smooth things over, so every now and then I toss him a bone. And he's definitely caught me on a day when I'm looking to avoid any trouble."

Carl grinned. "That's a relief. I see you're having quite a day in here."

Victor was about to respond when he saw Rachael fidgeting. "Something wrong, Rachael?"

She shifted her feet, but didn't cover her petite breasts or bare pussy. "I don't like him being here," she near-whispered.

"Oh? How's come?"

"I... I've seen him looking at me. And other girls. He looks at us like we're objects. It's... not right. He's twice my age. He shouldn't see me like this. Any of us."

"Wow, Rachael, that's the most words I've ever heard you string together at once. You must feel pretty strongly."

She nodded wordlessly, eyes fixed on the floor. Nearby, Hailey squealed as Henry's clumsy fingering brought her over the edge for the first time.

"Well, we can't have that - that is a definite conflict." Mrs. Jamison voiced her agreement.

"So Rachael, you've always been really quiet, soft-spoken. A meek, do-what-she's-told kind of girl. Seen and not heard, you could say. So... if you're just scenery, something to look at and talk at that doesn't respond... Mrs. Jamison, what is it you were saying about the difference between a subject and an object?"

Mrs. Jamison smiled, pleased to see some of her instruction had sunk in. "Subjects act; objects are acted upon."

"That's it. So Rachael, that's you, isn't it. Something that gets acted upon. Don't pout; you're the one who's made you an object, not me. Embrace it. You're a beautiful thing. A girl-shaped mass that can be acted upon however a person wants. And right now, I think Carl should get to act upon you."

Rachael opened her mouth to respond... but objects didn't respond, unless made to. So she turned to face Carl, all dread vanishing from her face. She just stared blankly ahead. Carl put a hand on her neck, and with only a little coaxing, she bent forward, long hair hanging almost to the ground.

The janitor took out his dick and waved it in her face. "Too old for you, am I? Apologize, ya little brat." He gave her ass a hard smack that echoed around the classroom.

"You have made me sorry, sir," Rachael responded.

"Good. Now let's put your pretty mouth to better use." Carl opened her mouth with his hand, then slid in his cock, cautioning her about her teeth as he took a handful of her mane and started her bobbing up and down on him. As he face-fucked his Rachael doll, a long tendril of drool slipped out of her mouth and onto the floor.

Once he was fully hard he pulled out of her mouth and slid and moved around behind her. With his cock wet from her spit, he slid into her pussy with minimal resistance and started fucking the teen girl. "Damn you're good and tight girl. You don't know what you're doing to me!"

Rachael shook her head. "An object doesn't do. An object is done to. I'm being fucked."

Carl laughed as he kept thrusting into her. "I like that. Keep going, baby!"

"My tight virgin pussy is being stretched by your cock. I'm being juiced up from the friction you're creating. I'm being told to talk like a whore. Your commands are being obeyed by me."

Mrs. Jamison looked on in disapprobation of the student-turned-sex-doll, to say nothing of her anxiety at seeing her freshly graded stack of essays being dripped on by Chelsea's cunt.

"Well now Victor, I must say I simply do not approve of all this." She tsked at him.

"You're the only one. Anybody else have a problem with any of this?"

"Mmm, not me," purred Hailey, who was now lying on her back on Jeff's desktop. He was straddling her, fucking those big cheerleader tits he'd been ogling all semester, as she laughed in glee at this fun game he'd found to play with his toy.

"Nmmm mmmm," Brandy attempted. She too was on her back on a desktop, but rather than fucking her tits, Henry had leaned her head back as far as it would go and was thrusting in and out of her throat as she gasped and gurgled around it. She fondled her tits, because boys liked seeing big-titted girls play with their boobs.

"I'm having soooooo much fun," said Chelsea. "My guy friends keep asking for more faster than I can pose!"

Victor smiled. "Good to have supportive people in your life. How about you, Rachael?"

Rachael responded in a monotone. "Rachael cannot object. She is an object. She is being fucked like the object she is."

Mrs. Jamison frowned. "You really need to work on your passive voice, Rachael. And you, Victor, need to work on your manners. Honestly, treating these girls so. This is not the gentlemanly conduct the school's honor code requires."

"Yes, let's deal with you. You know, you said something to me on the first day of class this summer that I want to remind you of. You said, 'I learn more from my students than they learn from me.' Do you remember that?"

"I... well, yes, I said that."

"Is that true? You still come in to work every day, eager to learn from your students? Even after all these years?"

"I do..." she said guardedly.

"Good. Now I want you to look around this room at these young women. What are they doing?"

"They're... they're being sluts. Hailey is using her breasts to stimulate Jeff, Brandy has a penis in her mouth and Rachael in her vagina, and Chelsea is posing."

"Hey now, that's not how we talk. Show us you're learning from your students by trying that again, but like your students would say it."

She considered, thinking through the vulgar vernacular her students found so enticing. "Well... Hailey's using those big titties of hers to get off Jeff's big cock. Brandy's getting her throat fucked raw by Henry. Rachael's bent over getting her pussy reamed by that sleazy janitor, and Chelsea appears to be fucking herself with my stapler and recording it on her phone for all her friends."

Mrs. Jamison smiled. It felt good to still be able think like her students. Like when she'd started teaching all those years ago. When she'd still looked like this.

"Good. Now... what do you think you could learn from them?"

She considered. "Um, sucking and fucking? How to service cocks? How to act like a depraved little slut who only thinks about how to please men?"

"See? And is that something you know much about?"

"No. My husband and I were never very sexually active, and we only got less so over the years."

"Well won't he be pleasantly surprised when you come home from school. So go on, Mrs. Jamison, go learn from your students." He gestured for her to join the class.

Victor sat back and watched as she made the rounds. She began with Chelsea, joining her in some shots. Chelsea was only too pleased to show her how to strike an alluring pose, and together the two of them were exponentially sexier. The girls did a short video making out and groping one another's tits, then sent it to Chelsea's dad to show him what she was learning in school. Victor made sure his response was a supportive one - in fact, he said he'd be writing to the school board to commend Mrs. Jamison's hands-on instruction.

Then she went to Carl, apologizing him for her poor attitude, and inviting him to do anything he wanted to her body. The janitor said he was perfectly happy with his cock right where it was, but still had her bend over and take a few whacks to her firm, shapely ass to make sure she was good and contrite. Mrs. Jamison happily complied, trying to be every bit as submissive and devoid of will as Rachael.

Then she joined Hailey and Brandy. The boys were ready for her by now, and told her exactly how they could use her. They put her down on her hands and knees, with Brandy lying on the floor on one side and Hailey smiling vacantly on the other. At the boy's instruction, she started finger-fucking both of the girls.

Brandy was elated to see grrl power in action.

Then, the boys flipped a coin to see who got which end. Jeff lost, so he came around in front of her and filled her mouth with his cock. Henry, the victor, used some lube Hailey had provided from her handbag, then slid his greased up dick right into their fussy teacher's sweet ass.

Mrs. Jamison was still lying face-down on the floor, cum leaking between her lips and out of her ass, when Victor came and sat beside her. Carl had finished up with Rachael and gone back to work; the willowly brunette still stood bent at the waist, though Chelsea was eyeing her like she might find some use for her.

He patted his teacher's ass affectionately. "Looks like you learned a lot - like what a climax is, for one." She giggled - like she thought the other girls would do. "What do you think, any more Person vs. Person conflicts?"

She looked around. Everyone seemed so happy. She was. "No, Victor. But..."

He sighed. "But what?"

"What about Person vs. Self?"

"Well, we'd need to have someone experiencing internal conflict for that. Anyone undergoing inner turmoil?"

There was no reply.

"See? That takes care of that."

"And Person vs. Fate? Come now, we've discussed this - struggles against the supernatural, agents or entities neither human nor natural but still extant in the story's framework. Don't... don't you qualify as that? And didn't we struggle against you?" She sounded unsure, though it was an affectation. She'd learned from Brandy that women shouldn't contradict men.

"It would only constitute a conflict if there was ever any chance of it going differently. Come on, I've been going to this school for four years now, fucking any bitch I want any time, any way I want, doing and saying whatever I want to whomever I want."

"But... you barely even touched us."

"Mrs. Jamison, I've fucked every girl in this room at least twice before today. And you didn't know jack shit about it, did you?"

"I... no, I guess I didn't."

"Darn right. If I want to turn you back to how you were and make you forget all this, I will. If I want to leave you like this as a spineless nympho fuck toy to be nailed by any student who wants to for another thirty years of teaching - like I did Mrs. Colliard - I will."

"Mrs. Colliard? I thought it seemed like her methods were becoming a little more unorthodox, what with the corsets and the blowjob trainings..."

"Yeah. You didn't know anything because that's what I wanted. Because none of you can resist me. You don't struggle - I tell you what to do, what to be, and you comply. Seriously - knowing what you know now about what I can do... was there ever a chance this could have gone any differently today for any of you?"

"Hmm. No, I suppose not."

"So if there was never any resistance, no struggle, no conflict, no suspense, no chance of any other ending but this... was there a conflict? So doesn't that make this a story with no conflict? Didn't I disprove your point?"

Well?