Chapter 6: Encyclopedia of Shame
Two days later, Rachel Berry was still thinking about William. She simply couldn’t get the visions of him with Quinn and Tina out of her mind. These increasingly audacious thoughts, especially when Rachel was alone in bed at night, were starting to have a negative effect on her, particularly on the quality of her performances in the Glee Club. Her high notes felt strained, her timing off.Mr. Schuester had asked her twice if she was feeling well. The phantom ache between her legs had become a constant, distracting hum.
Rachel decided she needed Emma Pillsbury’s help. Emma Pillsbury was the school's guidance counselor, a redhead in her thirties, always impeccably dressed. She was also the wife of Mr. Schuester, the Glee Club leader. Perhaps she could provide some… coping strategies. Something to clear her head.
Rachel waited until the end of the day to go see her in her office. The hallway was quiet, the frantic energy of dismissal having faded into a hollow echo. When she arrived and knocked, no one answered. The frosted glass was dark.
A teacher who happened to be passing by—Mr. Cox from the math department—told Rachel, when she asked him where Emma Pillsbury was, that he had seen her leave in the direction of the library. The answer surprised Rachel because the library was closed at that hour. The librarian, Ms. Stanger, was famously rigid about her hours.
Nevertheless, the petite brunette decided to go there. Perhaps Emma was collecting some materials. She could discuss her problem with her amidst the quiet stacks.
To her surprise, the library’s main door was slightly ajar. Rachel pushed it open, the heavy wood swinging inward without a sound. The vast room was plunged in a deep, dusty twilight, the long tables empty, the computers dark. Only one spot at the very back of the library, near the reference section and the storage annex, seemed lit by a faint, flickering glow. A janitor’s work light, perhaps.
And then she heard it. A voice she knew well, low and resonant, filtering through the canyon of shelves.
William’s.
As on the other two occasions, William used particularly crude language, talking about his penis and the fact that she—but who, Rachel thought, her heart seizing—was going to have to show what she was capable of.
“You talk a big game, Mrs. Pillsbury,” his voice rolled, a dark velvet hammer. “All those proper little skirts and cardigans. Let’s see what’s underneath all that.”
Rachel felt a jolt of electricity in her lower abdomen, a familiar, unwelcome heat that instantly pooled. She was disgusted with her own body’s betrayal. She slowly approached the spot, her ballet flats silent on the industrial carpet, taking advantage of the profound darkness to avoid being seen. She slipped behind the final row of shelves dedicated to outdated encyclopedias, the bindings cracked and cold against her knuckles as she peered around the corner into the storage nook.
Rachel had imagined seeing William with Tina, Quinn, or one of the cheerleaders. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
She noticed William first, his imposing bulk impossible to miss, standing in front of a woman kneeling before him on the dusty floor. And this woman was none other than Emma Pillsbury! The redhead wore a green blouse under a yellow cardigan and a straight, knee-length skirt, as usual. Her auburn hair was perfectly coiffed, but her shoulders were trembling.
The redhead looked up at William, her eyes wide and wet behind her glasses, as he casually unbuckled his belt. He pushed his jeans and boxers down in one rough motion, revealing his penis.
Rachel couldn’t believe her eyes. William’s penis was truly enormous. It hung heavy and thick, even in its semi-flaccid state, a brutal weight of dark flesh against his thigh. It must have been as thick as one of his forearms. A veritable monster of flesh, already lengthening under Emma’s terrified gaze.
William spoke to Emma Pillsbury, his tone conversational, almost gentle, which made the words themselves sound even fouler. “Told you I’d get you here. Wanted to see this married woman take care of my dick for a long time. You’d straighten your little skirts and look right through me in the hall. Thought you were better.”
He reached down and cupped himself, giving his cock a slow, idle stroke. It thickened perceptibly. “Finally, you’re just like all the others. See a big black cock, and you find yourself on your fucking knees.”
“I… I shouldn’t…” Emma whispered, her voice a broken thread.
“But you are,” William stated, no room for argument. “Hands on it. Get used to the weight.”
William ordered her to take hold of his penis and jerk him off. Rachel heard Emma’s words, a stunned, breathy murmur.
“Oh… oh, my.” Emma’s slender, gloved hands—she still wore her trademark pink rubber gloves—reached out tentatively. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, her eyes widening further. “It’s so… hot. And heavy.”
Emma jerked off William’s penis, her movements timid and inefficient. But he clearly wanted something else. He was fully erect now, a fearsome, veined pillar of muscle that looked capable of causing damage.
“Enough of that prissy shit,” he grunted. “Suck it. You wanted to help me, didn’t you? Help me with this.”
He ordered Emma to suck his cock. She protested a little, a weak shake of her head. “William, please, I’m married, I can’t…”
“You can. And you will. Open up.”
He didn’t wait. His hand fisted in her carefully styled hair. She let out a tiny, desperate gasp as he guided the broad, purple head of his cock to her lips. She opened her mouth in a small ‘o’ of protest, and he pushed forward.
The enormous glans was already inside her. Under Rachel’s gaze, William had placed a hand on the back of the redhead’s head, preventing her from pulling away.
The scene was making Rachel so wet that her cotton panties were already soaked, glued to her labia. She pressed her thighs together, the pressure a pathetic attempt at relief. The sight of the enormous cock excited Rachel, a terrifying, thrilling fascination. The sight of the prim guidance counselor, with the enormous cock partially stretching her lips, her eyes streaming with tears behind her smudged glasses, increased her excitement tenfold. William was truly incredible. Emma Pillsbury would have been the last woman, according to Rachel, who would have succumbed to William.
A wet, gagging sound, choked and ragged, echoed in the small space.
“Yeah, that’s it,” William sighed, his hips giving a small thrust, forcing another inch into her mouth. “Take it. Swallow that nigger dick, Mrs. Schuester.”
As William pushed his cock deeper and deeper into the redhead’s mouth, he commented on what he was doing. Emma’s jaw was stretched obscenely, her throat working as she fought her gag reflex. Spit dripped down her chin, onto her crisp yellow cardigan.
“Gonna fuck this polite little mouth,” he groaned, his voice losing its casual edge, becoming guttural with pleasure. “Shoulda seen you coming. All those ‘helpful’ talks. You were just hoping I’d bend you over your desk.”
Then he told Emma that she wasn’t the first married woman from the high school he had slept with. He spoke between short, shallow thrusts that made Emma’s head bob uncontrollably.
“Your friend… the history teacher, Mrs. Danforth?” he said, almost casually. “The one with the big house on Oak? Fucked her in her marital bed. Husband was at a conference. She screamed herself hoarse on his pillows.”
He pulled out slightly, letting Emma gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting her lip to his shiny crown. “Then there was the science teacher.Mrs. Kellerman. That stuck-up blonde.” He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Talked down to me about my grades. Ended up with her skirt around her waist, getting her ass pounded for the first time in her life over her own lab table. Called me ‘sir’ by the end.”
He shoved back into Emma’s mouth, deeper this time, and she choked, her hands flying up to claw weakly at his thighs. He ignored her.
As for Emma, William declared that she would get to use every hole. “Gonna break you in proper. This mouth first. Then that tight, married pussy. Then your other little hole. Gonna make sure you never sit prim and proper in that chair again without remembering what’s inside you.”
Faced with William’s words and the scene unfolding before her, Rachel’s hand had crept under her own skirt. The fabric of her soaked panties was pushed aside. She began to masturbate, her fingers circling her clit with a frantic, guilty pressure, her eyes locked on the devastating penetration before her. The rhythmic, wet sounds of William fucking Emma’s throat, the choked gags, the low, animal grunts from William—it was a symphony of degradation that set her nerves on fire.
A particularly sharp curl of her fingers, paired with the image of William’s powerful hips driving forward, wrenched a low moan from Rachel’s lips.
It was soft, but in the haunted silence of the library, it was a gunshot.
William’s head snapped up. His eyes, dark and knowing, cut through the gloom directly to her hiding place behind the encyclopedias. He didn’t stop moving, his pace steady, brutal. He held her gaze across the distance.
And he winked.
Horror, shame, and a violent surge of excitement crashed through Rachel. She stumbled back, yanking her hand from under her skirt as if burned. Her heel caught on the leg of a shelf.
William’s voice followed her, loud and clear, mocking and promising, as Rachel quickly fled the library.
“Run along, little star,” he called out, his voice thick with exertion. “I’ll find you next. Gonna make you sing a different tune.”
The last thing Rachel heard before the library door swung shut behind her was Emma’s strangled sob, followed by a deep, satisfied groan from William, and the wet, final sound of a deep, claiming thrust.