You spend a lot of late afternoons at North High with Rose in the StuCo room. The business of running the student council is never one that particularly interested you, and so Rose gets to be the most powerful vice president in the school's history. But at least this time around, you're helping.
Even if planning for festivals and pep rallies is an awful drag, you find ways to keep things entertaining.
On one such late schoolday for example: you're taking a bathroom break when Rose texts you. Standing at the urinal, you read the message. All it says is: "hungry?"
She couldn't have waited two minutes to ask you in person? Oh well. You text back that you are. And she instantly fires back: "I'll get a snack."
When you return to the club room, you understand.
Standing there in the middle of the class, stark naked, her skin seeming to practically glow as she stands with her back to the golden California sunset, is Rose. This in and of itself is hardly any surprise, though. The real surprise is what she does when you enter. She turns, bends over the teacher's desk at the head of the room, and spreads her fat ass for you. Perched about the only place they could be perched down there, are two chocolate bonbons.
"Come get your snack," Rose says over her shoulder.
You go get your snack.
Usually, kneeling beneath Rose is a degradation, but this is way too fun. And you know what, you actually were hungry, and these chocolates are really good. You eat the candy from her cunt and asshole, slowly chewing these liqueur-filled treats that ooze with her arousal. You lick up what melted inside her while she waited, too, doting lover you are. Wouldn't want her to suffer any kind of adverse effects from putting candy where the sun doesn't shine. And you have to make sure you get it all. So you can't be faulted for spending a long time down there. A half hour... more? She keeps a leg helpfully hiked up on the desk, for you to work.
Of course primal need does eventually call, and you get down to the main event. You have sex with her like that, over the desk, doggy style, using her hair for handles. It's going pretty normally, and you make casual conversation while you fuck:
"Are you going home tonight?" You ask.
"I don't know. I -- ohhh -- that's good. Like that. I don't know. Why?"
"You have to pack for Boise, right?"
"We have time."
"Nngh-- oh, shit -- I love your cunt..."
"Do you want to get dinner after this?"
"I already ate... where the hell did you get those chocolates?"
"Ffffuuuuck-- I'm cumming! I'm cummmmmming! Oh -- oh -- whew. ... I got them from Vivian..."
"What."
"She gave them to me. They're amazing, aren't they?"
You stop thrusting.
"What's wrong?" Rose asks.
"Fuck," you say. Not in the fun way.
It's only now that you're starting to realize... you and Rose have both become a little sluggish, haven't you? You're not really standing anymore, you're more just lying on top of her, over the desk...
"This... is bad..." you tell her.
The world throbs around you -- and slowly, fight though you may, you lose consciousness.
---
When you wake up, it's after dark. You're tightly bound, hand and foot.
Groaning, you sit upright. You feel your vision unblur and your pupils adjust to the room's low light. Rose is similarly hogtied, propped naked against the wall on the opposite end of the room.
Vivian stands in front of you, dressed in a ridiculous form-fitting leather costume that leaves her cunt and nipples exposed. She wields a cat-o-nine-tails and a black cat masque.
This is your fault, you're pretty sure. Vivian saw you in one of your... weaker moments... with Rose, and got the wrong idea of the power dynamic here. And since you haven't been fucking her as often in the past couple weeks...
Rose gains consciousness not long after you do. "Oh, what the fuck," she says, looking from you to Vivian and back again. "Seriously?"
You stare up at Vivian. "What are you doing?" you ask.
"B-be quiet!" she commands. "You will s-speak when spoken to!"
You frown. Vivian tied you with red satin rope, but it was a rush job, and she must not have been very good at maneuvering your dead weight while working. You could definitely undo these knots by pulling on them.
"I'm sorry," you say, "but you do know that I could break free from these ropes literally at any time I want, right?"
"I said quiet!" She cracks the whip -- but instead of the sharp snap she's looking for, the tails just flop round uselessly. She tries a second time and gets the same result.
"This can't be real..." Rose says.
"This is what you like," Vivian asserts, although it comes out sounding more like a question. "This is what you want. Isn't that right, you, you, you... p-p-p-pervert?"
"I wish I could hate you to DEATH," Rose says, straining against her bonds. "Both of you! Oh my GOD."
Vivian ignores her. She steps closer, doing her best to loom. But even with you sitting down, she isn't much taller. She arches her back, as if to gain extra height. This pushes her little button of a clit against your nose. Her tummy is taut against the smooth confines of her leather suit. Her delicate skin is flushed darkly red. You watch her with a bemused grin.
"W-worship me, you w-worm..."
>[x] "Submit"
[ ] Enough of this silliness.
Although you enjoy little more than bullying Vivian, especially when she's uppity, you also enjoy little more than having your tongue inside her tiny pussy. Maybe you're just in a pussy-eating mood today. And with Vivian wagging her eager cunt under your nose, filling your head with the clean, sharp scent of her arousal, and tickling your face with her throbbing clit... you can't resist.
You open your mouth, snake out your tongue, and--
Vivian whips you.
Or at least she tries to whip you. As with when she tried to crack the cat o' nine tails in the air, she doesn't produce any force. The leather straps gently fwap against your shoulder.
Trying to get across that this should have hurt, she does the same thing to you again, more pointedly -- but just as forcelessly. You tear your eyes from that beautiful cuntlet, to gaze down at your perfectly unabraded, unbruised shoulder still draped by her whip's tassels like an epaulet.
"Ow," you say.
"H-how dare you--" she begins, then gulps, and continues: "--try to put your DISGUSTING mouth on -- on -- on my cunt without perm-- without permission?"
Her knees are knocking.
"Idiot!" Rose shrieks. "Stupid little brat! You have to use your *wrist*--"
Vivian goes to where Rose sits and summarily delivers a vicious, open-handed slap. Not to Rose's face, but to her cowtits. Rose gasps through her teeth in sudden excruciating pain.
"Be quiet, Vice President Mallory." No stutter there.
What flickers across Rose's face is fear -- honest fear -- and also recognition. This is more in line with the Vivian she knew before, who could be domineering when she wanted to be. Tonight will be far from the first time that Vivian has victimized her.
Vivian produces a ball gag. Not just any ball gag. The strap for it comes from around her wrist. And the red ball itself comes from out of her asshole. She reaches around her body and pulls it out with a soft plop, then affixes it to the leather. Rose's eyes go wild, and she shakes her head violently no. Vivian won't be deterred. She leans in, cups Rose's chin to keep her face held steady, and forces the thing into Rose's mouth. Circling, she does the buckle up behind Rose's head -- extra tight. Rose will have to suck Vivian's ass off that ball gag, and watch what the two of you do without providing any color commentary. It's gonna drive her bonkers, you know.
Such a contrast. When Vivian returns the way she came, to stand again before you, her bravado evaporates.
"S-see how I -- overpowered your dominatrix--!"
"Let's get one thing straight here," you say. "Rose is not my dominatrix."
Rose tries to shout her own rebuttal, but she's tongue-tied. Vivian squeaks: "P-pathetic! Apologize to your new mistress for... for... trying to sully my h-h-hole with your lips!"
You bow your head, and although you try to stave it off, you begin to snicker.
"What's so funny?" Vivian says. She seems to be trying for derisive but comes across as indecisive.
You'll submit. If it means getting a whiff of that honey-sweet pussy again and having her ride your face for the next hour or so, you can put up with some roleplay. The fact that it's going to drive Rose literally insane is just a bonus.
"What's so funny!" Vivian says. She seems to be trying for threatening but comes across as anxious.
"I submit," you say, in your best impression of a broken slave's soft monotone. You keep your head bowed in a show of deference.
Vivian's reply is slow to come. You resist the urge to look up. One, because it would be against the spirit of the game. Two, because if you glimpse that cunny again, you're liable to leap free from the ties that bind you and rape it into the shape of your cock.
"G-good... good..." Vivian finally drawls between jittery breaths. She seems to be trying for lecherous but comes across as gobsmacked.
She takes your chin in palm just as she did with Rose. But unlike with Rose, Vivian's hand trembles here. Her grip is weak and clammy. At the same time, she lifts a foot into the air, and presses the ball of it to your erection. The soft skin of her sole is nice on your prick, but she isn't putting any pressure on you. In fact she seems to be actively avoiding pressing down on your cock at all. Afraid of actually hurting you?
In any case, it leaves her entire weight supported only by her other foot. And in this pose, she's far off her center of balance. She wobbles as if being battered by invisible gales, using her free hand to keep upright like a tightrope walker.
"M-men are all -- ah--" she teeters dangerously to one side, and takes a moment to right herself. "M-men are all the s-same."
"Punish me, mistress," you tell her.
She gives your member the feeblest and most ineffective nudge ever. Is that what she counts as stepping on your cock? It tickles more than anything. And it nearly tips her balance past the point of no return again: she has to windmill her arms to stay upright.
You play up the pretend agony: "Ow!! I'm sorry, mistress!"
You look her in the eyes. The contours of her face are visible from behind the edges of that ridiculous cat masque. She's blushing bright pink beneath it.
Stepping back from you, she gets her bearings and waggles the cat o' nine tails nonthreateningly at you. "Beg me for the right to, to... to service me!"
What you say is only really half made-up:
"Please, mistress. I need your pussy in my worthless slave face. I want you to torture me with your holes... I want to service you with my tongue. Please... I submit my body to you, mistress."
She's shaking like she's been dunked in icewater.
A few moments of silence pass, punctuated only by Rose angrily mmmf-mmmf-mmmf-ing up a storm on the other side of the room.
"...Mistress," you prompt.
"Gooooood slave," she drawls, snapping out of it -- sort of like speaking to a dog she's trying not to anger.
Was it part of her plan to have you actually consent to this mistreatment? Is she waiting for you to break free of your bonds and take control? Or is she just awkward and unsure of herself?
Either way, it's fun to keep her on pins and needles like this... and she's still aroused, as her drippy little cunt proves. As she steps towards you, you again enjoy its sweet aroma wafting across your face, and can clearly see every little dewy droplet of her juice trickling across every smooth fold and crevice of her labia. Her arousal makes her whole crotch shiny, like something laminated, and from this close up, you can see her clitoris actually throbbing lewdly.
She rests a palm on top of your head. She rises to tiptoes, and then back down, over and again, rubbing her horny slit against your nose, lips, and jaw. Masturbating on you.
"L-l-lick me, s-s-slave," she chokes.
You wouldn't be able to resist even if you tried. Your tongue, when flattened, is wider than her mound. You can lap the cream from the exterior without ever getting it wedged inside her vice-tight fuckhole. So you do just that -- to enjoy her taste -- and also, cruelly, to tease her. As you repeatedly scrape your tongue back and forth across her twat-lips and her clitoral hood, she makes the absolute most adorable little sighs and squeaks of pleasure. Her grip on you tightens, and she clutches a tuft of your hair.
For a few moments, she rubs herself rapidly against your lapping tongue, trying to amplify her carnal pleasure. Her cunt squirts erratic little needles of liquid. She starts to coo, "ahhh, ahhh~" -- But she must think that this enthusiasm is unbecoming of the dour mistress she's trying to portray. She stills her humping, and then yanks you by the hair. You let your head tilt back the way she intends it to. Your chin drips with her cum as you stare back at her.
"How is your mistress's pussy?" She says, managing not to stammer, but gulping hard when she finishes.
"Delicious," you reply. "Thank y--"
"Thank me!"
"Thank you."
She tugs the other way now, trying to tilt your face back towards her waiting cunt. You let it happen, and smother yourself once more in her overheated loli fuckditch. Her milky flesh is so tender against your tongue, and her gash is so delicate-tasting, that you can hardly believe it. You're worshiping her vagina -- not because she commands you to, but because you really do worship it. Vivian deserves to orgasm on your wiggling tongue and reddening face -- deserves the chance to ride your face to a thundering cum, even if it deprives you of a little oxygen. Such a lovely pussy as hers has earned that right, at least.
Vivian puts her second hand on your head and grips a second tuft of hair. Rolling your eyes skyward, you can just barely glimpse the rest of her body from over the hillock of her puffy mons. Her posture is severely hunched, and her eyelids are fluttering at about 300 BPM. At some point in her mounting ecstasy, she inadvertently pushed her cat masque up, so that it lies half on her forehead, and reveals her features. She's chewing her lower lip, still blushing madly. She's drooling, too. Literally drooling -- the little strands oozing from the corners of her lips as she worries them. The leather suit she wears is bunching up around her tummy, and her pale nipples are rock hard.
Her breathing becomes increasingly labored. She supports her entire weight with your head -- her fists and wrists pressing down against the top of your skull, and her wonderfully soft, hot cunt pressing into your face. You dig around inside her with your tongue, making your cunnilingus extra wet for her. She's as smooth on the inside of her body as she is on the outside. And the more she creams up, the sweeter it gets.
She tries, the doll, to degrade you -- but her obscenities dissolve into wanton moans of pleasure:
"W-w-worm-- you dirty, pathetic-- ahhn~ -- nasty -- ahhnn~ -- perverted-- aaaaahhhnn~~"
At last her cunt clenches down hard around your probing tongue. Here cums the big one. You curl your lips into an O and quickly envelop her entire pussy. You suck and blow, in an alternating rhythm, and jab your tongue viciously in and out like a cock. You can't use fingers to please her clitty, so you have to improvise: you use the tip of your nose to jill her off. From deep within her, you hear an echo-y splash, and then she floods you with an eruption of cunt cream so voluminous and so rich and so thick that you'd think she hadn't cum in a year. You legitimately worry about drowning, as you try to keep up and swallow it all down. You hope there's no one else staying late at North High tonight, because the shriek she makes can probably be heard from all four corners of the campus.
Her messy nut lasts for nearly a minute, as she suffers the ruthless pleasure of a rolling orgasm. She just won't stop cumming -- you won't let her stop cumming. It's only because she finds the willpower to dismount you, that her cunt eventually stops ejaculating.
The wood floor before you is swimming in a puddle of her steaming girlcum. You gasp for fresh air, and can feel your hair sticking up at odd angles where she held you. You kind of do feel used. It doesn't feel bad. And only now are you aware, acutely aware, of how much your rigid dick is leaking against your belly. You've been making a mess of your own, haven't you? You're so hard you could fuck a hole in a slab of steel. You aren't the only one paying attention to this: Vivian is staring at it, hungrily and unabashedly.
She sinks to her knees -- dragged down by gravity, and the enervation that attends to busting as hard as she just did. This only gives her and even better vantage on your twitchy penis. She can't stop staring at its angry, red, veiny girth. She actually licks her lips a time or two.
"So be it, s-s-slave," she sputters. "You have permission to-- to fuck me."
You hang your head. "I don't deserve such an honor."
The silent beat that passes is heavy, and expectant. It's perfect. Divine. The main reason you hung your head, was to hide your growing smirk.
"N-no -- you don't -- you don't deserve it," Vivian agrees. "So b-be thankful that I'm letting you ff-fff-fuck me!"
"It isn't my right," you say. "I could never stain your sacred pussy with my dirty semen."
"Mistress is... your mistress is granting you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!" She says, somewhat desperately. "Are you too st-stupid to take it?"
"I am stupid, mistress. I'm stupid and worthless--"
"I'm giving you an order! Don't disobey!"
"I couldn't possibly sully your--"
Vivian slaps you across the face. She slaps you hard. You can feel the sharp electric sting of it in your cheek after the fact, the tactile afterimage of her tiny palm and all five of her dainty fingers. You can feel, too, the welt forming. It's such a shocking moment of real, and painful, violence that you don't register her taking the whip up again from the floor where she dropped it. She cracks it in the air, and this time it takes. It makes a sonic snap that causes you to jump, and your pulse to skip a beat.
"Fuck me or I will beat you black and blue," she says, her voice low, and level, and ice cold.
This was all just a game until now. Now you're frightened. You're so frightened that you forget your bindings aren't really effective; you're so frightened that you forget Vivian stands only five foot even in shoes, and that you could easily overpower her. You're afraid -- of her. And so when you say this, you mean it:
"Yes, mistress. I submit."
Vivian keeps the whip in hand -- as a reminder of what she can do -- while she crawls into your lap and wedges her sopping hole over your cock. She's so turned-on -- more than she was before, even -- that despite the crushing tightness of her squishy insides, she sinks straight down. Your entire length slips into her with ease, right up to the nuts, and she rests with her very womb impaled on your prick.
"Fuck," she barks. It's a command -- just one word -- and it's all you need to hear.
Hands still tied behind your back, you begin to gyrate your hips. It's hard to gain a mechanical advantage in a position like this, especially since Vivian refuses to help. She just sits on your cock, expecting you to do all the work. After all, what are slaves for, if not to do the work? You can't pull out of her very far like this, though, and so your thrusts are just short, desperate jabs. It still feels fucking amazing -- Vivian's cunny wrapped around your dick always does -- but she isn't satisfied by only this.
"Fuck harder!" She says.
You do your best.
"I said harder!"
Where did this side of her come from? Well, it was always there, you guess. She loves to dominate the other girls. She's just never turned it towards you. You try to fuck her harder. Without the use of your limbs, it's no small task. Your repeated hip thrusts carry her entire weight up and down, bruising your pelvis, and making your crotches mash loudly together like pieces of meat. Soon, without any voluntary movement of her own, Vivian is bouncing on your dick like a kid on her papa's knee. You fuck yourself into total, oblivious sexual agony, letting her swampy cunt swallow your shaft up. Your abs burn and your legs are getting charley horses, but you wouldn't dream of slowing down. Vivian lightly holds your knees and smiles smugly, even as her eyes roll to the back of her skull. She's getting railed by a cock that's so big it has to rearrange her organs just to fit inside her -- but she's the one in control, and you both know it.
"Beg me to cum," she gulps.
"I--"
"Beg me to cum!"
You aren't too proud. "Please can I cum mistress Vivian, please!" You set your jaw, and your neck muscles go taut. Fiery heat rises from your toes to the top of your head.
"Beg more! Beg for it, you ffffucking worm!"
"Please, please, please! Please let me shoot my cum in you!"
She sways and swoons with the thrill of control, and, unable to stop herself, starts to drift backwards. You can't bear the prospect of your cock leaving the undersized socket that it's connected to. So surging forward, you follow her as she goes down -- like this, you go through a complete 180 degree reversal of position. She's underneath you, and you're atop her. Your hands are still bound, your legs too, but your cock is mated to her pussy, and that's all that matters.
"Fuck me," she chokes, drunk on pleasure. "Fuck me or I'll hurt you..."
Like an inchworm, you repeatedly raise and lower your butt, fucking yourself into her body again and again. This is new, even for you: hands-free missionary. You won't be able to hold out for much longer -- you so desperately need to blow. Even with you on top -- even with you totally pinning her -- you ask to do it:
"Please can I cum please can I cum please can I cum please can--"
"Be quiet, slave!" She takes your cheeks in her palms to silence you. She moans, loud and delirious, and her cunny flutters around you. "Kiss me," she sighs.
You kiss her. And without mistress's permission, you cum. For your transgression, she slaps you -- harder than the first time. Even while you do it. Even while she cums from getting creamed. She hits you. You unleash your torrential geysers of sperm deep within her illegal womb, while she slaps your face and sucks your tongue.
---
Afterwards, Rose, still naked, body criss-crossed by red ropes that bite into her skin so alluringly, scrubs your collective cum from the ground. You watch bemusedly, sitting on a desk. And Vivian, wrapped around you like a toddler cuddling a St. Bernard, hand-feeds you bonbons that she swears aren't laced with anything. (You don't mind one way or the other, even if they are.)
"You're never that good of a slave for *me*..." Rose mutters, rubbing the scrubbing bristles back and forth.
Vivian laughs haughtily. "Maybe you should be a better mistress. Then again, we are not all born to be superior. The world needs lessers, too."
Rose looks up at the two of you and begins to say something, but Vivian shuts her up by stepping on her face.
"If I want your opinion I will ask for it," Vivian tells her.