Lesson Plan
Corinne sighs, shakes her blonde head as she considers the bottomless pile of
homework assignments. It's already 6pm, and she's nowhere near done with her
grading. She sets her pen down, reaches into her purse for a smoke. They'd can
her ass in short order if they caught her smoking in the building, but she's not
worried-it's Friday, the room will air nicely over the weekend, she knows.
Dragging deeply, she settles in again, smoke clasped between her full lips. She
wanted to be a teacher why?
Carl peers through the dark library at Corinne's classroom door, still crouched
beneath the reading desk. They're all gone now-all but her. He rubs his
crotch, his huge cock rigid in anticipation. He'd first seen her leaving the
drugstore at lunch time, her long legs stocking clad, her large breasts jiggling
maddeningly under her angora sweater as she walked past him. He'd honed in on
her, his sour breath hissing between his stained, ruined teeth as he grabbed for
her arm. She'd sidestepped deftly, green eyes flashing with disgust as she took
in his form-tattered Army jacket, stained pants, fingerless gloves clutching the
bottle of Thunderbird.
"Scumbag." Corrine snapped angrily, striding quickly up the street.
"Snobby whore." His voice was gravelly, low. He swayed slightly on his feet,
tipped the bottle for another drink as his bleary eyes sharpened, narrowed.
Muttering, he set off down the sidewalk behind her, eyes watering, nose running
as he stared hungrily at her firm, round ass twitching side to side ahead of
him.
Finding her classroom has been easy-he'd just walked around the outside of the
building, peering in windows until he saw her. Pale skin, blonde hair swept
back in a lazy chignon, plush hips swaying as she walked to the board, began to
write. Creeping into the building, he'd hidden in a utility closet until the
final bell, then made his way to the library as the halls cleared. A clear view
of her classroom, she seemed to stare straight at him as she closed her door,
returned to her desk.
He rises slowly, hand working more excitedly as he groans, takes the last nip
from the bottle. His steps are slow, deliberate, his breath coming in short,
eager gasps as he approaches her door. Pausing, he pulls his rough braided belt
from his pants, wraps it around his hands, pulling it taut. "Fucking snobby
whore," he whispers raggedly, "fucking snobby whore, fucking snobby whore, teach
you to be nicer to people."
Corrine yawns hugely, her eyes watering with exhaustion as she begins gathering
papers, stuffing them into her bag. "Fuck it-I'll do it in the morning, I can't
even think." Her head jerks to the side as she catches a shadow moving across
the frosted glass on the door. "Hello?" She cocks her head, breath shallow,
adrenaline dumping. She holds perfectly still, waiting, listening. There is no
sound, no further movement. She sighs shakily, laughing nervously. "Jumping at
your hair again, stupid." Brushing her bangs back, she zips her bag, walks to
the door.
Carl stiffens, flattens himself against the wall as he hears her hand on the
door knob. He takes a deep breath, holds it, hands testing the belt as he
waits.
Corrine gasps, just catching the flash of movement exploding from the side
before she is propelled to the hard floor. The wind is knocked from her with a
painful "Ooof," her forehead glancing off the tile as Carl's weight comes down
full, pinning her on her belly. Breathing hard, he loops the belt over her
head, pulls back sharply, yanking her head back hard. Her hands fly to her
throat, she claws frantically at the belt, feet digging vainly for traction.
Her eyes wide, her mouth works in soundless screams, her hands surrendering the
belt, scrabbling forward to claw desperately at the floor.
Carl grunts in satisfaction, jerking the belt back harder, twisting it cruelly
as he begins dragging her backwards into the classroom, her legs flailing
wildly. Hauling her up, he slams her face down on her desk, vase tumbling,
shattering. Corinne's eyes are huge, back arching painfully as he presses a
knee above her ass, wrenches her head back with a vicious yank of the belt. Her
hands wave, sending sheaves of paper drifting to the floor. Holding the belt
with one hand, hips pinning her to the desk, he reaches down, jerks open a
drawer, begins fishing around, shoving things aside, searching. Swearing, he
yanks another open, gives a guttural laugh as his hand closes over the roll of
electrical tape. Rotting teeth working the roll, he pulls a hank loose, lets go
of the belt. Laying over her, he captures her reaching arms, twists them
cruelly back, pushing them between her shoulder blades as he begins winding the
tape tightly.
Corinne drags in a tortured breath, her throat raw, vision clearing as her lungs
drag in a deep breath, two. She whines, her trapped arms already hurting.
Grabbing her roughly, he flips her onto her back, head over the edge of the
desk. She strains to lift her head, gasps as her eyes take him in. He nods,
enjoys the dawning recognition, the renewed struggles.
"You should be nicer to people," he smiles, a horrifying display of rotting
stumps. Grabbing her ankles, he tapes them tightly to her desk drawer handles.
"You're gonna be nicer to me." He reaches under her skirt, hikes it high as he
grasps her silky panties. A sharp, painful tug and the delicate material tears
away in his hand, leaving her soft, trimmed pussy bare. He stares, momentarily
oblivious to her shrill screams. Shaking his head, he looks up at her, then
looks around, suddenly realizing the racket she's raising. Climbing atop her,
he pries her jaws open, jams her damp panties deep. Pulling sharply, he removes
the loose belt from her throat, wraps it around her head, winding it through her
mouth. Tying it off tightly, he smiles down at the pretty picture she
presents-eyes huge, terrified, mouth working desperately as the panties protrude
slightly, rope biting into her full, sweet cheeks.
Corinne screams, her cries muffled, ineffectual. Her thighs strain frantically,
helplessly, as he stands between her legs, his hands pushing her soft sweater
up, revealing her trembling belly, then her D cup breasts held firm in lace. He
sighs, tongue swiping his chapped lips hungrily as his shaking hands reach
tentatively, almost unbelieving, to her breasts. His eyes are wet, wide with
wonder as he grasps her breasts, fingers working under the cups, then pulling
sharply. Corinne squeals as the lace gives, tears away, leaving her firm, round
breasts bare to him.
Groaning, Carl leans forward, pressing against her as she writhes, shoulders
twisting from side to side, struggling to evade his touch. Hands snaking out,
he captures her bouncing breasts, squeezes hard, sinking his fingers into the
soft, protesting flesh. Mouth open, foul breath escaping with his gasps, he
begins sucking her nipples, pulling the entire areola of first one, then the
other, into his decaying mouth, his hips humping dryly through his pants.
Corinne sobs in terror, disgust, staring at the top of his greasy head as he
mauls her, sickening slurping noises turning her belly. She begins to scream
again as he releases one breast, hand tracing down, grappling with the broken
zipper on his filthy pants. His cock springs free, impossibly large, purple,
pressing into her milky thigh as his hips jerk mindlessly. Rough, dirty hands,
ragged nails scrape, scratch as he works her pussy lips open. Grasping the base
of his huge tool, he guides it to her hole, begins pushing relentlessly into her
tight, unlubricated pussy.
Corinne's hips jerk in pain, horror. She bucks helplessly under him as he
collapses on her, hands and mouth resuming their awful ministrations. His
cock catches, pulls painfully as he withdraws, then slams his full length into
her. Screams become pained cries, punctuated with deep sobs as he begins riding
her hard, thrusts deep, vicious. Her head whips violently about in desperate
denial, her feet thumping against the desk drawers as he slams her down against
the hard metal. Moving up, he bites her lip hard, thrills to her whining,
writhing. His foul breath chokes her, she fights the nausea, turns her head to
the side as her belly threatens to rebel.
Carl begins to groan loudly, his thrusts becoming jerking, uneven. His balls
pull up tight, cock swells in her battered hole. Corinne screams through her
nose in sick realization as he begins gasping, slobbering on her neck, jaw. She
thrashes wildly as he begins pumping his thick, hot cum into her vulnerable
pussy. Sobbing, screaming, she closes her eyes as he shudders, goes limp on top
of her, his hips still spasming, fucking his spunk deep into her.
Caroline stares blankly, her breath shallow under his motionless weight. Her
arms ache, sharp pains shooting to her shoulders, hands going numb. She cries
silently as his cock finally slips out of her, limp, freeing the rush of warm
cum that flows out, down across her asshole. A low moan, and he stirs on top of
her, leering tiredly into her pale, drawn face.
"It's been so long since I've had anything sweet," his words are slurred, eyes
bloodshot, "so long-don't I deserve nice things?" Grunting, he pulls off her,
stands swaying, hand clutching her bare thigh for support. Catching his
balance, he bends slowly, grabs her purse from the floor. Pulling her chair up,
he sits, facing her red, aching pussy, and begins rifling through her things.
"Corinne Bush," he laughs roughly, begins to cough violently, wiping a grimy
glove across his mouth, "what a great name-fits, doncha think?" He takes her
driver's license, tucks it into a pocket. "Any money? Huh, any cash, credit
cards?" He digs through her wallet, pulling out cash, a Visa, MasterCard.
"Rich, snobby whore, rich, rich, rich." His gravelly voice is distant,
sing-songy. Pressing the cards, the cash into the same pocket, he rises, smiles
as he shambles to the front of the desk, stands before her head, craned
painfully over the edge. "Rich, snobby whore, rich snobby pussy-let's try that
rich, snobby mouth." Corinne whines, her wide eyes staring at his limp,
glistening cock as he unwinds the belt, pulls her saliva soaked panties from her
mouth.
"N-no, noo, plea-" His thumbs grind cruelly into her face, forcing her jaws
wide as he slides his flaccid tool into her lovely mouth. Corinne gags, her
stomach clenching at the stench of his unwashed balls, the taste of his sour cum
and her own pussy. Moaning hoarsely, he begins moving slowly back and forth,
savoring the warm wet of her protesting face. Sighing, he smiles as his cock
begins to stiffen, pressing deeper into her mouth until it touches the back of
her throat, choking her. She begins to writhe in response, sending tingles down
his legs, bringing him to full hard in moments. He grasps her head tightly,
pushes back, down, marveling at the speed with which he got hard again.
Pressing stubbornly, he thrusts against the back of her throat, finally giving a
cry of victory as her resisting throat opens, his cock driving all the way in,
burying her nose in his filthy balls.
Corinne strains, twists desperately as his cock plunges into her throat, choking
her, blocking her airway. Her eyes stare at his matted, hairy thighs, her
breasts bouncing, jiggling with her struggles. His hips jerk sharply, fast,
short strokes, never pulling out far enough to allow air to pass. Her nostrils
flare wide, throat working as her taped feet drum the drawers in terror. Tears
flow, her mind filled with the knowledge that she will die with a drunk's cock
lodged in her throat. Her jaws strain, chest rising, pitching side to side as
his hips begin to spasm, fucking her head back hard against the front of her
cold metal desk.
"Ahhh . . . " he moans, pushing all the way in, his meat swelling, twitching in
her tortured throat, "ahhhh, fuck yeah." His eyes roll up as he fills her
throat with his sour, sickening cum. Her throat constricts, spasming, milking
the spunk from his tool, swallowing over and over, helpless under the flood.
She gasps, sputtering, gagging as he pulls out, the last waves splattering her
pale cheeks, swollen lips.
Carl mumbles, his hand clasping his limp cock. Three hours-it's been three
hours, and he still can't get it up again. His hands quake, fingers tingle,
burn as he runs a trembling hand across his mouth. He's tried everything,
pinching, prodding, fucking her face again-nothing. He needs a drink. Christ,
he needs a drink. He rises, stumbling, eyes wild as he scans the room. "Rich
snobby ass," he mutters, agitated, "rich snobby whore, rich snobby ass." His
eyes skirt over, then return to the model rocket on the shelf with the other
science projects. He skitters over, grabs it in his shaking hands-it's perfect,
perfect for her rich, snobby ass. Ten inches long, almost four inches in
diameter. He shuffles to her side, his head throbbing, stomach aching. Sitting
in her chair, he grasps her leg, yanks her back hard as he begins to cry, "Rich
snobby ass." Pressing the pointed head against her puckering asshole, he
shoves, groaning in morbid wonder as she screams, hoarse, agonized, voice almost
gone. Bracing a hand against the thrusters, he pushes relentlessly, eyes
grateful as the rocket slowly disappears into her jiggling, dancing ass. He
sighs, sickly relieved. Rising unsteadily, he pats his pockets, feels her
money, her credit cards comforting him.
Staggering to the door, he turns back, eyes feasting on her abused body, meeting
her dull, pain filled gaze.
"Class dismissed, whore," his voice is quavering, thick, "hope you learned
something." He turns off the light, closes the door behind him, shambling
toward the exit, thoughts focused on his next bottle.
Corinne whines, eyes staring into the dark, settling on the glowing clock face
on the wall. 10:27 pm. She sobs weakly, hips still straining as her bowels
cramp, rectum spasms painfully around the child's toy now buried inside her.
Monday morning, Monday morning-so far away. She blinks, eyes returning to the
clock.
10:28.
