Frank Hermain lay the big dusty book on his dining room table and admired the exquisite hand-tooled gold-leafed scrollwork on the cover. The book had cost him a fortune, and he hoped it was worth the money. He had reason to believe it would be; it was highly recommended by his mentor, after all.

He opened the book carefully. It had an air of mystery about it, smelling of old parchment and ancient leather, brittle and yellowed with age. The title page bore the hand-lettered words The Book of Magick.

Thus far, his magical lessons have been mostly dull. After three months' worth of sessions, he'd only mastered a few simple spells that were little more than parlor tricks--move a spoon across the table, heat the water in a cup. When he asked his mentor if there were more meaningful spells that he might learn, the old man's fiery red eyes had narrowed.

"I don't teach dark magic," the man had said.

"No, no, of course not..." Frank had protested. "That's not what I meant... Just something more, well, eventful."

The his mentor's eyes had flashed in the candlelight as he scribbled on a piece of paper. "You have done well in your lessons," he said. "There is nothing more I can teach you. Find this book, and you will find what you seek."

Frank carefully turned the crackled old pages of The Book of Magick, examining the spells therein. "How To Freeze a Birde In Flighte." "How to Light a Fire With no Match." "How to Cause a River to Flood." That last one was interesting. Dangerous, but interesting. He continued reading. "How to Cause a Rock to Fall from Cliffe." "How to Bende Another to Your Will." Hmmm... He read through that spell. Could be useful. It seemed simple enough; after acquiring a talisman from the person whose will you wished to bend, you hold it in your hand while thinking about what it is that you wish for them to do and muttering the incantation on the page.

With some practice, this could be very interesting indeed.

Shelby Thorton sat in the third row, center seat, of Mr. Hermain's fifth grade social science class, slouching in her chair and absentmindedly rubbing the pendant of her necklace between her thumb and forefinger as she pretended to pay attention to his very boring lecture about Australian aborigines.

"Shelby," the teacher interrupted his lecture to say, "what is your opinion about indigenous rights in Australia?"

She dropped the necklace from her hand, the pendant bouncing noticeably as it landed against your chest, and sat upright. "Uh..." she stammered. "Well..." It was obvious that she had been paying such little attention to his lecture that she didn't even know the meaning of the word "indigenous."

Mr. Hermain walked over to her desk. "What is this necklace that you have on, Shelby?" he asked her.

"Th... this?" she stammered some more. "It's... It's just a..." She looked down at the pendant. "...a ...kitty?"

"The school's uniform policy allows only for small religious necklaces. I'm afraid your kitten necklace violates the policy."

"Yes, sir, I didn't know, sir." She unhooked the necklace while he stood before her with his hand outstretched, and dropped it in his hand.

"Very good, you can collect it after school, Shelby. Now, we'll all quietly read pages 214-218 in your textbooks."

The kids all opened their books and bent their heads and began reading. Meanwhile, clutching the necklace in his hand, their teacher sat down behind his desk and began muttering to himself. After he'd cast the spell, uncertain what the result might be, he cast some simpler spells, to bar the door, and keep suspicious passersby away.

Shelby tried to read the words on the page of her textbook. "Humans first arrived at Australia some 50,000 years ago, traveling across the ocean from the island of New Guinea..." She was finding it hard to concentrate. She understood the words, but they made little sense to her, as if they were just randomly typed on the page. She tried to focus. " canoes made from dugout trees, or rafts of logs held together with ropes..." She began to fidget, one knee bouncing uncontrollably. She felt her face getting warm, and she knew she was blushing. Worse, she could feel Mr. Hermain's eyes on her. She couldn't look up, she dared not look up, but she knew he was watching her. She knew he was staring at her. And she realized, as she gave one last effort to read the textbook, the words now disappearing into a mess of unidentifiable scratches on the page, she had the overwhelming sense that all the eyes of all the boys in the room were on her. Oh god, why are they all looking at me? She fidgeted even more, not daring to look up but certain now that Mr. Hermain and all the boys in class were staring at her.

As her fidgety leg bounced, she felt the hem of her panties rubbing against the sensitive skin between her legs. Oh! She closed her eyes, and her head swooned. My panties are too tight!, she thought to herself. I have to take them off! Her hand was already halfway up her skirt when she finally came to her senses and realized that she couldn't just pull her panties down, right there in the middle of the classroom. But as her fingers grazed against the soft skin of her inner thigh, she felt a wave of electricity flow through her body. What's happening to me? I'm... I'm...

She quickly jumped up from her seat. "Mr. Hermain?" she blurted out. "I hafta... I really hafta go to the bathroom!"

The teacher was looking at her with his eyebrows raised and a little smile on his face. But before he could answer, another girl stood up. "I... I really have to go, too, Mr. Hermain!"

The teacher looked a bit startled, and even more so when a third, and a fourth, girl stood and announced their need to go to the bathroom as well. All of them were fidgeting, their legs shaking, and all of their faces were bright red.

The teacher looked down at the necklace in his hand and furrowed his brow. These spells are always difficult, you never really know what the outcome might be. While The Book of Magick said the spell only applied to one person, obviously something had gone terribly wrong! Or--he suddenly thought as he watched more and more girls stand, and even those who weren't standing turn red-faced and start to bounce and fidget--something has gone terribly right!

Then the first boy stood up.

He was little Johnnie Johnson, not four and a half feet tall and skinny as a six year old despite being nearly twice that age. He was as red-faced as the girls, and from beneath his khaki trousers stood out a solid pole, an impressive bulge for such a small young boy.

"Mr. Hermain!" little Johnnie said, with a definite sense of urgency, "I think I hafta... I hafta do something!" He looked down at the sizable tent in his pants, as did every kid in the classroom. Every kid except for one, that is: Shelby, dear sweet Shelby, with ringlet curls of fine shining blonde hair framing her soft red face, blue eyes wide with confusion, fear, and lust, as she stared right at her teacher, right at Mr. Hermain, who at that moment seemed to her the handsomest man in the world even though he was as old as her father.

He definitely noticed her staring. "Come here, Shelby," he said to her.

Shelby hesitated. Part of her--a big part of her--knew that something strange was happening to her body, and to the bodies of her classmates, and she couldn't help but wonder if her teacher was somehow responsible. But it almost seemed like her legs moved of their own volition, one nervous, knee-shaking step, then another.

"Do you still need to go to the bathroom, Shelby?" her teacher asked her when she arrived at the side of his desk.

"I... I don't think so," she said. Then her face turned even redder. "I think I... I think I wet myself."

Mr. Hermain raised his eyebrows. "Let me have a look, Shelby."

Shelby knew it would be wrong to show him. Girls aren't supposed to show their panties to grown men, and grown men aren't supposed to ask them to, either. But after a moment, he gave her a look, narrowed eyes but a little smile, a look that told Shelby that he was both sternly disappointed in her, and also bemused by what a little child she actually was.

I'm not a child! she insisted silently. And I really don't want to disappoint Mr. Hermain. He's my favorite teacher! Was he her favorite teacher? she asked herself, confused. She wouldn't have said that a day before, but now... Yes, he was! He was her favorite teacher! So, not wanting to disappoint her favorite teacher, and wanting to prove to him that she's not a little girl, she lifted her skirt.

Mr. Hermain's eyes twinkled in excited anticipation, and he licked his lips as a pair of white cotton panties with little pink polkadots slowly appeared from beneath her tartan schoolie skirt. Her wet spot was obvious; a darkened splotch of fabric about the size of a silver dollar; the liquid-logged cotton translucent and matted against her skin, the pale narrow cleft between her legs perfectly visible.

"I don't think that's pee, Shelby," her teacher said. He reached his hand out, index and middle finger extended.

"Wha..." Her words caught in her mouth as his fingers made contact with the crotch of her panties. "You shouldn't..." she managed to eke out in protest, unable to finish the thought.

All of the other students were watching in rapt attention as Mr. Hermain's fingers began sliding along Shelby's wet girlslit. Many other boys had stood now, all of them with tentpoles in their trousers, though none quite as impressive as little Johnnie's. Several of the girls expressed that they, too, had wet themselves, and turned to the boy nearest to them and lifted their skirts to let him look.

"I shouldn't what, Shelby?" Mr. Hermain asked as his fingers dug into the wet fabric of her panties. "What shouldn't I do?"

Shelby felt so warm! Her teacher's fingers tingled as he groped her, filling her whole body with unaccustomed feelings of happiness and want. "You shouldn't stop, Mr. Hermain!" she moaned, unable to overcome the powerful desires that flowed through her body. Around the room, boys were mimicking their teacher's actions, fingering the wet panties of the nearest girl. Those girls who had no boy nearby were fingering each other, and boys who had no girl were rubbing each other's cocks.

"I won't stop, Shelby," Mr. Hermain said, digging his fingers into her slit. "But you have to take your shirt off now."

"I... I don't think I should do that, Mr. Hermain," she said, hesitation clouding her defiance. And indeed, even as she said those words, her hands reached up and began unbuttoning her blouse. Soon she slipped it off her shoulders, revealing a little white cotton training bra underneath. The cups of the bra were loose, too big for her underdeveloped fifth grade chest.

"Your bra now, too, Shelby. Take it off."

"But..." the girl tried to stammer a protest, even as her fingers were already slipping under the bra to pull it up. "The boys will all see, and I don't have..."

Her teacher just looked at her with that same expression of stern disappointment and a bemused smile at what a little girl she was.

I'm not a little girl! she once again thought to herself. And I won't disappoint him! So she defiantly pulled the training bra up and over her head.

Frank sat and stared for a moment at the girl's swollen pink nipples, and the little mounds that rose below them. Then he stood, and as he did, he put his hands on top of her head and pushed her down to her knees. He quickly dropped his trousers.

At this moment, every eye in the room was on their teacher's cock. The girls were mesmerized, the boys, jealous, for Mr. Hermain was well-hung indeed, a large man-sized cock protruding aggressively from a thick tangle of pubic hair and looking enormous in front of little Shelby's face. On her knees before of him, she raised her big blue eyes to look up at him, eyes that were a mixture of concern, confusion, and want. Her teacher grasped his cock and slapped it against her lips.

"Suck it!" he commanded.

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to voice another protest, but strangely, rather than making any sound, her jaw just dropped even further until her mouth was open as wide as it could be. Her teacher was looking down at her with a satisfied smile as he slid his dick into her mouth.

Throughout the room, girls had pulled their shirts off, too, and bras as well, if they were wearing one. The boys followed their teacher's lead and dropped their pants to their ankles, and girls were quickly on their knees with their mouths open wide, engulfing little peckers just as Shelby had engulfed the large one in front of her.

Shelby was not happy about her current situation. Her teacher's cock was so large that, even though she had only taken in his head, it filled her so completely that she was unable to swallow the spit that was suddenly coating the inside of her mouth, and it leaked uncontrollably down his shaft. And the taste! Mr. Hermain's cock tasted so strange! Like sweat and, and, something else, something that she couldn't identify but was certainly the cause of all the spit that was flowing from her lips. This strange flavor also seemed to send a shiver through her body, and at first she thought it was about to make her sick to her stomach, but then she realized it had the opposite effect. It made her hungry. No, that's not quite right. It made her want to be full, but not in her stomach, somewhere else, and some other kind of fullness.

Her body shivered again as Mr. Hermain wrapped his fingers into her soft silken curls and forcefully moved her head back and forth so that his cockhead slid between her lips, and she wet herself again between her legs, even more this time then before. It was then that she realized where this new feeling was focused. She realized that she suddenly had an intense desire to have her vagina filled. Filled with... with Mr. Hermain's cock! And the feeling only intensified as Mr. Hermain gripped tightly to her head and continue to rock her back and forth, until her legs begin to shake as she sat on her knees in front of him, and she had an intense desire to cry out with unbridled lustful passion. But the only sound she could make was a gargled moan around his thick cockhead.

All throughout the room, girls were making similar gargled moans as boys did their best to mimic what their teacher was doing. A few of the boys moaned themselves as they ejaculated prematurely and their partners had the first taste of sperm that they'd experienced in their young lives.

Mr. Hermain, however, held out much longer, rocking the little schoolgirl on his cock, barking orders at her to suck him harder and keep her teeth off of his skin. She did the best she could to not disappoint her favorite teacher, even though her jaw grew tired and her mouth was battered and sore. Only then did Mr. Hermain's balls clench tight, and his cock throb, and his semen explode into her mouth.

His cum tasted awful to poor little Shelby, and she let some leak through her lips, around his cock that still twitched in her mouth, and down her chin. But she squinted her eyes shut and swallowed what she could, and as she did, she was terribly confused when more wetness surged from between her legs and her desire to be filled with her teacher's cock inexplicably surged as well.

Mr. Hermain's now-deflating cock slipped from her mouth, and, with his fingers gripping tightly to her hair, he pulled her to her feet. The girl was wide-eyed as she looked up at him, her big blue eyes filled with fear and concern and sexual desire. He put his big strong hands on her hips and effortlessly lifted her onto his desk.

Despite the overwhelming feeling of need that caused yet more wetness to flow between her legs, Shelby's mind was filled with hesitation and even with resistance. But her hands moved without volition and lifted her skirt, to once again show her teacher her now-soaking panties. And when he put his hands on her knees and spread them open, she didn't resist it all.

Mr. Hermain leaned down and put his face between her thighs. Shelby could feel his warm breath on the wet spot expanding in her panties, and then he kissed her, right there, right on her wet spot, right on her pussy. Her instant unthinking reaction was to spread her legs even wider and lift them into the air, and lay down on the desk and arch her back. She felt his warm thick tongue glide along the cotton fabric of her soaked panties, and it was the young girl herself who reached down and pulled her panties to the side so that his tongue could lick directly on her soaking lips. Shuttering feelings of desire flowed through her with increased intensity as his tongue lapped at her clit.

In the rest of the room, girls were sitting on the school desks with their legs wide open while boys kissed and licked their little pussies. Soon panties were pulled aside, or dropped to the floor entirely. The girls all felt the same desire as Shelby--a need to be filled. A need to be fucked. And the boys all felt a burning desire of their own--an overwhelming need to stick their little cocks in something.

Both Shelby and Mr. Hermain felt these same feelings, and he stood and grabbed the waistband of her panties and yanked them to her feet. She watched wide-eyed, her heart pounding in her chest, as her teacher gripped his once-again thick hard cock and positioned his head at her opening.

"Mr. Hermain!" she managed to blurt out in a shaking voice. "You shouldn't...!" He slid his cockhead through her soaking lips, rubbing it over her clit. "Oh! You... shouldn't... Oh Mr. Hermain!" she shouted now. "Fuck me! Please, please, fuck me! Fill me with your cock, make me your little whore!"

All throughout the room, boys were standing now between girls' legs. All their eyes were on their teacher and his little whore, as a dozen virgin schoolgirls were penetrated, and a dozen boys experience the warmth of pussy wrapped around their cocks for the first time in their lives. And little Shelby was penetrated, too, as Mr. Hermain took her eleven-year-old cherry, shoving his big thick grown-up cock into her tiny virgin pussy.

The boys did not last long. Most of them came within a few seconds, others lasted a minute or two. But poor Shelby had to endure a much longer copulation as Mr. Hermain held her down onto his desk and repeatedly slammed his hips forward, fucking her just like a man fucks a whore, pulling back, ramming in, stretching her insides open to accommodate his astounding girth.

And Shelby hadn't an ounce of resistance or hesitation left in her now, not even when her teacher pulled out of her and grabbed her hips and flipped her over, so that she was on her belly on his desk. At that moment, all she wanted was to have him back inside her. All she wanted, all she needed, was to be full of cock.

And then, as she lay there on her belly on Mr. Hermain's desk and he grabbed her ass and slid his cock back in her pussy and began slamming, slamming, she realized that there was one more thing she wanted, one more thing she needed. She needed to be full of cum.

"Oh Mr. Hermain!" she shouted. "Cum inside me!"

A smile broke out on her teacher's face. "Is that what you want, little whore?"

"Yes! Oh, yes, please, Mr. Hermain, please! Fill your little whore with sperm!"

And that's exactly what he did.

Several hours later, Frank was sitting at his desk after school, grading tests, when there was a soft knock on his door.

"Come in," he said.

"Mr. Hermain?" Shelby was trembling as she entered his room. "I'm here to get my necklace back."

"Oh, of course," her teacher said. He open a drawer in his desk, took out the necklace, and handed it to her.

She slipped the necklace in the pocket of her skirt, then stood with little patent leather maryjanes crossed one foot over the other.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Shelby?" he asked her.

"Yes, sir," she answered in a sweet high-pitched voice. "It's just... when I was thinking about coming here, to get my necklace, I... I think I might have wet myself again."


"Yes," she said. "Do you want to have a look?" And the sweet eleven-year-old girl lifted her tartan schoolie skirt and showed her wet panties to her teacher once again.


Nickname Date Feedback
ArkansasMan 2/8/2018 Part two cuming soon ?
Nah, this is a stand-alone story I'm afraid!
Admiral Cartwright 2/10/2018 This could go all kinds of places that are more, well, eventful.

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