From pamela7@juno.com Tue Apr 29 18:22:56 1997
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From: pamela7@juno.com
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Subject: Repost: Fantasia--Suffering Students 16/25
Date: Tue, 29 Apr 1997 22:22:56 GMT
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SUFFERING STUDENTS   16/25
by V.P. Viddler

                             16

     Our school principal, Doctor fucking Pratt, had a bug up his ass.
He didn't like the rumors of immorality in the school that were going
around. I sat in his fucking office as he beat around the bush for a
while, but I was thinking, fuck it, why should I sit here and be bored
to shit by this crap? This bastard is a man too, though it might not
be obvious. He had a cock down there someplace. So why fuck around and
maybe fuck things up? Why not just hit him with it straight out, and
fuck the shipmates? So I cut him off and I said, "Look, Doctor Pratt,
you want to know if it's true that there's fucking going on in this
school? Yes, there's fucking going on. Is there sucking going on? Yes.
Lots of sucking. Rape? Yes. Sodomy? You bet. Blackmail of a sexual
nature? Right. Torment and torture and discipline and all that kind of
good stuff? Yes. Yes, I say. Yes! Okay? Now the only question is, do
you want to stir up a lot of trouble and talk and publicity and
things--or do you want to get in on it."
     Well.
     Old Pratt was huffing and puffing and going all kinds of colors,
but then he kind of stared at and said, "In--in on it? Me?"
     Ahah! I thought. That cock is there, all right. "You," I said.
"All you want, Doctor Pratt."
     "All? All I want?" Pratt gasped.
     "As much as you can take," I said. "Any time, any place. And
anybody."
     "Anybody?"
     "Anybody," I said. "I'll tell you what. I'll start you off right.
You tell me who you think is the absolute sexiest female in this whole
school. The one girl who turns you on most. The one you'd really like
to give it to. Who makes your cock go hard when you think about her.
Anybody. Any girl in this school. Tell me who, and I guarantee you--I
promise you that when you come to work tomorrow, that girl will be
here. In your office. Waiting for you. Stark naked. Tied down across
your desk. Spread out. Unable to move. All yours. Yours to do anything
you want to. All naked and helpless to resist you. And you can use her
any way you want. All day long. You can fuck her. Or stick your cock
in her mouth. Or whip her. Her tits, her belly, her thighs. Or burn
her body with your cigar tip. Or whatever."
     "I don't want that," Pratt said.
     "Oh," I said. "Well, what--"
     "I want her to be brought to me," Pratt said. "I want her
clothed. Fully clothed. So I can rip them off her myself."
     "Okay," I said.
     Pratt went on. "I want her hands bound behind her. Her wrists.
Lashed together. Tightly."
     "Okay," I said again.
     "And I want her hair down. Down and loose. Flowing. Her long
hair, her long lovely blonde hair."
     Pratt was glazing over. "Ah--Doctor Pratt," I said. "Okay. You
can have all that."
     "Oh god," Pratt said, almost drooling.
     "Just one thing," I said. "Who is it? Who do you want?"
     "You don't know?" Pratt said. "The most arousing, tempting, and
snobbish princess in the building."
     "Just say who," I said. "And she's as good as yours. Which girl
is it?"
     "Not a girl," Pratt said. "Not a student. A teacher."
     I hadn't counted on that.
     "Who?" I said.
     "Why, Miss Anger, of course," Pratt said.
     "Ah," I said.
     That wasn't surprising, actually. Miss Anger was without a doubt
the most attractive and sensuous instructor in school. I'd sometimes
daydreamed about having a crack at her myself, and so had most of the
guys. And the faculty, obviously. The more I thought about Miss Anger,
the harder my prick got. It was true, she was a cold bitch. Haughty
and proud. But shit, what a body! Breasts as round and firm and bouncy
as basketballs. Legs that wouldn't quit. And curves all over that
mouth-watering torso.
     What a break, I thought. Because I intended to get Miss Anger for
Pratt, and that meant I would get a pretty good piece too. But I
thought it only fair for Pratt to have first crack.
     So at eight o'clock Friday morning I, along with Henry, escorted
a struggling Miss Anger to Doctor Pratt's office. With her hands bound
in back of her, tightly, at the wrists, as requested. Miss Anger was
not happy about this.
     At Pratt's door I knocked and Pratt opened the door, and as he
saw Miss Anger standing there he began to laugh. Miss Anger called him
a string of awful things, and Pratt stopped laughing and told us to
bring her in.
     And then he punched her in the stomach. Hard, too. 
     I was taken aback, but that was nothing to Miss Anger's reaction.
All the air went out of her with a woosh, and she bent forward,
staggered back and fell down, long yellow hair flying, and lay on the
floor, writhing and gasping and sobbing and spasming, trying to catch
her breath, rolling helplessly with her arms bound behind her.
     Pratt was doing what I had never known him to do before. Smiling.
     Crying hard, Miss Anger tried to get up, but Pratt said, "Don't
get up, Rachel." And to emphasize that wish, he kicked her viciously
right in the tit. Miss Anger screamed horribly and fell back again,
her trussed body flailing, legs kicking blindly, causing her skirt to
pull up high on her lusciously curving thighs, and horrible sounds
coming out of her throat.
     "Look at her legs," Pratt said raspingly. "Look at those fine
shapely thighs and calves. And those--those fabulous breasts! How they
bob and roll as Rachel twists beautifully in pain. I've thought of you
like this, Rachel. And now--"
     "Shit," Henry whispered. "I didn't know her first name was
Rachel."
     "Don't start," I said, but too late.
     "Rolling Rachel," Henry said. "Rachel rolls revealingly around
the room. Rachel's rompers ruck up."
     "You," Pratt said. "Shut up."
     "Yes, sir," Henry said.
     "In fact, go away," Pratt said.
     Henry left with a long backward look. I started out too, but
Pratt said, "Not you," and I stopped. "You stay," Pratt said. "Rachel,
I want to sit here and watch you get raped by a student. Rape her,"
Pratt said.
     "Wait!" Miss Anger cried. "What do you--I'll--you can't--
no--no--no--NOOOOO"!
     "Yes," Pratt said, watching Miss Anger with all his attention.
"Go on. Rape her."
     So I did.
     It was fun. First I had to rip off her clothes, and Miss Anger
struggled mightily, but as she did Pratt would kick her hard, usually
in a most painful spot, and she would cry and sob and I would rip and
rip and after a while Miss Anger was naked. I slapped at her breasts
and I bit her neck and I twisted her flesh and I pinched her nipples
and when she was howling and bucking and choking with sobs and gasps
and pleas I pried her long thighs apart and threw myself on top of her
and grabbed her hair and jammed my dork into her pussy and fucked the
shit out of her, while Doctor Pratt rubbed his dick around her face
and came all over it, all over her beautiful face and hair and lips
and Rachel was crazy with pain and horror.