Subject: FANTASIA: Suffering Students  (16/25)
From: an117711@anon.penet.fi
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories

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                      SUFFERING STUDENTS
                        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 somplace.
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 me 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 this 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 thta 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 har and lips and Rachel was crazy with
pain and horror.