Math (MC)

The jumble of numbers and equations danced before his eyes, meaningless symbols that mocked his newfound inadequacy. He felt a wave of panic rising within him, a suffocating sense of being out of his depth. He couldn't understand a word the teacher was saying, his mind too preoccupied with the strange sensations flooding his body.

Just as the feeling of despair threatened to overwhelm him, a soft voice broke through the droning lecture. "Psssst... Pssssssssst..." He turned to see a girl from the class staring at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Are you horny?" she whispered, a suggestive smile playing on her lips.

Steven's heart pounded in his chest. Desire, raw and primal, surged through him like an electric current. He nodded mutely, unable to speak past the lump forming in his throat.

The girl in front of him shifted, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver down Steven's spine. As she moved, her clothing strained against her body, revealing a sight that both shocked and aroused him. Her fat cock, hard and throbbing, protruded from beneath her skirt, swinging back and forth as she rode the chair up and down, creating a lewd spectacle that mirrored scenes he'd only ever glimpsed in adult films.

He was helpless to resist the hypnotic display, his gaze fixed on her, his breath catching in his throat. Shame warred with desire within him, but the allure of the forbidden was too strong to overcome. He felt himself slipping further into this strange, intoxicating world, a world where boundaries blurred and pleasure reigned supreme.

The sight of the girl’s blatant display was too much for Steven to resist. A primal urge surged through him, a **** need to feel something, anything, beyond the confusion and fear that had been gnawing at his soul.

He looked down at himself, his hand instinctively reaching for the damp heat blooming between his legs. It was a foreign sensation, this awareness of his own body in this new form, but it felt strangely right.

His fingers danced across the silken skin, teasing and exploring the unfamiliar landscape. The feeling intensified with each stroke, a wave of pleasure washing over him that sent shivers down his spine. He moaned softly, barely able to contain himself as he increased the pressure, trying to ignore the burning gaze of the girl in front of him.

She watched him intently, her own movements becoming more frantic as he explored himself. Her cock rode against the chair with a rhythmic fury, each thrust accompanied by a guttural grunt that echoed through the silent classroom.

Steven tried desperately to focus on his own pleasure, to block out the world around him. But it was impossible. The girl’s presence, her blatant sexuality, fueled his desire, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

He moaned again, louder this time, a raw, primal sound that betrayed his inner turmoil. He clenched his fists, fighting for control, but the sensation was overwhelming.

His world narrowed to the feel of his own hand against his skin, the throbbing heat between his legs, the girl’s relentless movements across from him. Everything else faded away, leaving only this single, consuming moment of pleasure and self-discovery.

The teacher’s voice shattered the fragile bubble of pleasure Steven had found. "Jessica, how many times do I have to tell you not to tease helpless Stevia? Now you have her moaning, interrupting my class," she snapped, her face flushed with anger. “Both of you, into the hall now.”

Jessica stood up with an almost predatory grin, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and defiance. Steven, still reeling from the intensity of his arousal, stumbled to his feet, shame burning in his cheeks.

He followed Jessica out into the hallway, feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter. As they entered the relative privacy of the corridor, Jessica’s smirk widened.

“Get to work, whore,” she commanded, her voice ripe with anticipation. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she revealed her engorged cock, its fat shaft glistening under the fluorescent lights. “We don’t have much time left.”

There was no room for argument, no chance of refusal. Steven felt his body responding automatically, his desire overriding any sense of morality or self-preservation. He knelt before her, his mouth opening to receive her offering.

The taste was thick and salty, a primal mix of sweat and lust that sent another wave of pleasure crashing over him. He swallowed greedily, relishing the feeling of her cock filling his mouth, urging him deeper, harder.

Jessica’s grip tightened on his hair, pulling him closer as she began to thrust against his tongue with feverish intensity. Steven moaned, lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and fear.

It felt like an eternity, but it was over in a matter of moments. A surge of heat erupted within Jessica, followed by a wave of tremors that wracked her entire body. The climax spilled into his mouth, hot and thick, leaving him gasping for air.

He swallowed the last vestiges of her release, tasting victory and humiliation in equal measure. He rose to his feet, trembling, his mind reeling from the experience.

The bell rang, its shrill sound tearing Steven from his daze. Jessica smirked at him, a predatory glint in her eye. “Come on, Stevia,” she said, grabbing his trembling hand and pulling him towards the door.

“Thanks for the relief,” she murmured, her voice laced with mock sweetness. "Now I can finish my day without being horny." A shiver ran down Steven’s spine. "I'm so glad we made this a ritual," she added, her grin widening into a cruel smile.

He was dragged along like a rag doll, his mind numb from the shock of his recent experience. He glanced at his transcript, confirming that room 505 was indeed his next class. Music. A flicker of hope sparked within him - perhaps this would be a reprieve from the relentless torment.

But as he entered the classroom, reality slammed back into place. Two girls stood waiting for him by the door, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. "Hey classmate," one drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “How are you feeling today?” They both let out a raucous laugh, their smirks mocking his vulnerability.

Steven felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. His hope evaporated like mist under the scorching sun. He shuffled towards an empty booth at the back of the room, seeking a moment of respite from their gaze.

The soundproof room was where you could privately practice your musical instrument. There were a few of them in the back of the large musical room setup like an amphitheater.

But as soon as he entered the soundproofed space, the girls followed, pushing him against the wall with practiced ease. He watched in horrified fascination as they stripped in front of him, their movements both predatory and playful.

The first girl was tall and lean, her B cup breasts barely contained by her now-useless shirt. Her hips were wide, accented by a shapely ass that promised pleasure and pain in equal measure. Hanging from her crotch was a surprisingly large 7 inch cock, erect and pulsating with desire. The second girl was shorter, built like a barrel, but just as captivatingly dangerous. Her S cup breasts spilled over the edges of her bra, threatening to burst free at any moment. Between her legs, a monstrous 9 inch cock throbbed with an obscene power.

They laughed maniacally, their voices echoing in the confined space. "We love using you, bimbo," one sneered, her eyes burning into his soul.

Steven felt trapped, overwhelmed by a tide of fear and helplessness. He was caught in a nightmare from which he saw no escape.

Steven's pleas for mercy were lost in the cacophony of their laughter. He was powerless to resist their advances, his body betraying him with a **** ache that mirrored their insatiable hunger. The tall girl, her cock a menacing presence against his trembling skin, took the lead. She thrust into him with brutal efficiency, ignoring his whimpers and gasps for air. The 7-inch shaft stretched him open, violating his already compromised sense of self.

He felt the heat building inside him, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to drown him. But before he could surrender to it, she pulled back abruptly, her eyes glittering with cruel amusement. "Not yet," she hissed, her breath hot against his ear.

Then, with a sickening lurch, the shorter girl took her place, her monstrous 9-inch cock eclipsing everything in its path. It filled him completely, pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. He cried out in frustration and delight as she drove into him relentlessly, ignoring the protests of his aching body.

It was a brutal dance of dominance and submission, a twisted game where he was both the prize and the plaything. His body was stretched, torn, violated - but somewhere within the maelstrom of pleasure, a strange sense of liberation began to bloom.

The girls took turns, their cock's pulsing rhythms driving him deeper into the abyss of pleasure and despair. He was spit-roasted, one girl putting her cock in his mouth while the other plunged into his pussy.

His cries grew louder, more **** as he neared the edge of oblivion, albeit muffled from the cock stuffed down his throat. Then, with a final thrust, both girls released their burdens simultaneously, burying themselves deep within him. He cried out, a primal scream that echoed through the soundproofed booth.

The aftermath was a haze of exhaustion and shame. He lay there, panting, his body trembling from the aftershocks of their ****. The two girls sat back, wiping their mouths with bored indifference, leaving Steven to contemplate the wreckage of his shattered dignity.

As the echoes of their climax faded, the laughter returned, this time tinged with a new cruelty. The tall girl poked him playfully in the ribs, her 7-inch cock still slickly embedded within him.

"Oh Stevia," she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy, "did we hurt you? Is our little baby bimbo upset?" She nudged him again, harder this time, a cruel glint in her eyes.

Her partner snorted, reaching down to caress the curve of his hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said, her voice laced with malice. “It gets better. Just you wait till next time.”

The rest of the class became a relentless barrage of verbal ****. Every few minutes, one or both of them would unleash a fresh torrent of insults, mocking his body, his sexuality, his very existence. "Look at our little plaything," the tall girl sneered, pointing at him with her free hand. "He's so easy to break."

The shorter girl giggled, leaning over him and tracing a finger along the curve of his ass. "Such a good girl," she cooed sarcastically. “So eager to please.”

They made jokes about his newfound curves, comparing him to a grotesque parody of womanhood. They taunted him about his inability to resist their advances, calling him pathetic and weak.

Steven tried to ignore them, to block out their words with the **** hope that it would all just go away. But the sound of their laughter, the weight of their gazes, the sting of their insults seeped into every fiber of his being.

He felt his spirit breaking, his mind fracturing under the relentless ****. His body was already a prisoner of theirs; now they were slowly and methodically destroying his soul.

The music teacher, oblivious to the horrors unfolding in her classroom, droned on about scales and chords. The world outside the soundproof booth seemed distant and unreal, a forgotten dream from a time before he met Jessica. Before he became Stevia.

He was trapped, alone, and utterly broken.