Chapter 9: The Students' Revenge
The metallic click of the cuffs was a period at the end of a sentence. Catriona’s wrists, bound tightly behind the wooden chair, pulled her shoulders back, arching her chest. The silk scarf, shoved deep, filled her mouth with the taste of someone else’s perfume.
“Watch,” Megan had whispered, her lips against Catriona’s ear, a parody of intimacy. “Learn your place.”
Freya’s hands, strong from gym sessions and modelling poses, shoved the chair closer to the desk. Its legs screeched on the linoleum. Catriona was positioned as an audience of one, her view unobstructed, her body rendered useless, a live wire of furious, humiliated arousal.
Megan turned her attention to Aidan. He was still leaning against the bookshelves, his cock standing thick and flagrant, glazed with spit and Catriona’s slick. He looked dazed, a man caught in a riptide.
“On your back. Now,” Megan commanded, not asking. It wasn’t a seduction; it was a redeployment of assets.
He moved slowly, obeying the gravity of the threat. He hoisted himself onto the cleared desk, the surface cool against his bare skin. The star charts, now sullied and crumpled, rustled beneath his shoulders. The too-bright desk lamp highlighted every muscle in his torso, every pulse along his shaft.
Freya was already moving, a lithe blonde predator. She climbed onto the desk, knees flanking Aidan’s head. She didn’t lower herself gently. She gripped his hair, guided his face, and sank her wet, swollen pussy directly onto his mouth. “Lick, Professor,” she sighed, tilting her hips. “Make me come before she does.”
Aidan’s world became scent and salt and muffled sound. He could hear Catriona’s strained breathing through her nose, could see, from the corner of his eye, the helpless tears cutting tracks through the flush on her cheeks. His tongue moved on instinct, lapping at Freya’s folds, probing her entrance, as her thighs tightened around his ears.
Megan watched for a moment, a curator assessing her exhibit. Then she mounted him, turning to face Catriona. Reverse cowgirl. Her big, round black arse hovered over his hips, a dark moon eclipsing him. She reached behind, took his cock in a firm grip, and aligned it with her hole. She was already dripping.
She sank down. No hesitation. A slow, deliberate impalement that made Aidan groan into Freya’s cunt. Megan took every inch, a deep, swallowing descent that made her eyes flutter shut. “Fuck, it’s even bigger like this,” she hissed, her voice tight. Then she began to move.
Her rhythm was dominant, punishing. She rose until only the head remained inside her, then slammed back down, the impact jolting Aidan’s body, shaking the desk. The sound was brutally wet, a filthy, syncopated slap. Her arse cheeks rippled with each thrust, a mesmerizing, hypnotic bounce. She kept her eyes locked on Catriona, a cold, triumphant challenge in her gaze.
“See how I take it?” Megan panted, her hands braced on her own thighs. “See how I own this fucking monster? He’s not fucking me. I’m fucking him.”
Freya was writhing above Aidan’s face, grinding her clit against his tongue, her blonde hair a swinging curtain. “Yes, yes, just like that, oh god, your tongue…” She came with a sharp cry, her body convulsing, her juices smearing his chin. She shuddered and slid off, collapsing beside him on the desk, breathless.
Megan’s pace intensified. Her moans lost their calculated edge, becoming raw, guttural. “I’m gonna come on this dick,” she announced, as if filing a report. Her inner muscles clamped, a sudden, vicious milking pressure that tore a ragged groan from Aidan’s chest. She threw her head back, a long, silent scream, and Catriona watched as a fresh rush of Megan’s release gleamed on Aidan’s pubic hair, dripping down his balls.
Slowly, Megan lifted herself off, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. She was breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on her skin. She looked at Freya. “Your turn. Virgin pussy gets the prize.”
Freya needed no further instruction. She scrambled, pushing Aidan’s legs wider, positioning herself over him. She guided him with a trembling hand. “Go slow,” she breathed, more to herself than to him. “It’s so fucking big.”
The crown pressed against her entrance, a tighter, resisted embrace. She lowered herself by millimeters, her face a mask of exquisite strain. A sharp gasp, a fluttering of her eyelids, and she took him, her body accepting the brutal stretch with a surrendering sigh. “Oh my God… it’s in… it’s all the way in.”
She began to move, a slow, reverent rock that quickly grew frantic. Her small, perfect tits bounced with each descent. “Fuck me, fuck me, fill me up, I want your cum,” she chanted, her innocence incinerated by want. Her tightness was a scorching, velvety fist, and Aidan felt his control fraying, the coil in his gut winding to a breaking point.
“Where?” he gritted out, his hands finding her hips.
“Inside! Breed me!” Freya screamed, her rhythm becoming a frantic, slamming ride.
It was the permission, the crude demand, that shattered him. With a hoarse shout that was part sob, he erupted. Jet after hot jet pulsed into her, painting her inner walls. Freya clenched around him, milking every drop, her own orgasm ripping through her silently, her mouth a wide ‘O’ of shocked pleasure.
For a moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing. Megan moved first. She pushed Freya off, who slumped against the textbooks, dazed. Then Megan knelt between Aidan’s spread legs. His cock, slick with mixed fluids, lay spent on his stomach. She bent her head and licked it clean, a long, slow, deliberate stroke, her eyes on Catriona the entire time.
She stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She walked over to the bound, gagged woman. She uncuffed one wrist, then the other. She pulled the sodden scarf from Catriona’s mouth.
Catriona sucked in a shuddering breath, her arms aching, her whole body trembling with unmet need and seething fury.
Megan leaned down, her voice a low, venomous purr. “Your turn to clean him up, bitch.” She gestured to Aidan, who lay wrecked on the desk, his softening cock glistening under the fluorescent light. “Use your tongue. Get every drop. Then maybe you can have what’s left.”
Catriona’s eyes, fiery with tears and defiance, met Aidan’s. In his hazel gaze, she saw shame, exhaustion, and a dark, unbreakable thread of connection. She stood, her legs unsteady, and took a step toward the desk. The game had changed. The rules were written in cum and submission. And she had never wanted anything more in her life.