Not a masochist, but kinda subby.

“Well I think I have some submissive tendencies,” I replied, honestly, “but I’m not masochistic. I like to be uh… pampered, I guess. I do like being molested though.”

“I think we’ll still get along great, then. I’m into all kinds of stuff,” Nines winked at me as she guided me through the hall. I did my best to keep track of where we were headed in the meantime so I wouldn’t need help next time.

We arrived just in time for the final bell to ring.

It would seem that Ms. Cobalt was one of those lucky individuals whose name was perfect for her. Her classroom was neat, tidy, organized, but most importantly, it was accented with various blue decorations befitting her surname. Ms. Cobalt herself was a tall, imposing woman whose general stance and aura reminded me of exactly the sort of woman I had in mind when telling my mother how to carry herself to people other than me.

She had tawny hair done up into a stylish bun, a pair of icy blue eyes behind a pair of glasses with navy blue frames. She was voluptuous, perhaps not as well-endowed as my mother, but close, and she wore a white button-up blouse that was flowy and frilly with the top few buttons undone, showing off a truly massive amount of cleavage for a high-school teacher. Were my mother not the one in charge of this school, and this wasn’t a completely different world from the one I came from, it may have been a literal criminal amount of cleavage.

But her breasts weren’t the only dangerous weapons she had on her, her legs were long, toned, and pleasantly thick around the thighs. They were only barely concealed by a miniskirt, which didn’t manage to cover much at all, and a pair of black sheer thigh-high stockings. Her glorious legs terminated in a pair of cobalt blue heels, which matched the color of her skirt.

“Ah, just in time,” she said, standing up from her desk in the corner and making her way to the front of the classroom, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor. There was a table with a podium at the front of the class, but she did not go behind it. Instead she went to the front of the table and put her hand on her hip. My eyes were drawn to her breasts, they looked so soft.

Nines gave me a wink and a wave before going to her desk. I didn’t know where to sit, so I just waited for Ms. Cobalt’s direction.

“You must be Quinn Nocturne, the principal’s son,” she said at last.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

“You shall address me as ‘Miss’ or ‘Miss Cobalt’, understood?”

I blushed and nodded, “Yes Miss.” Something about referring to this woman in such a way tickled a part of my brain that I liked. She was so gorgeous and sexy that I wanted to call her that, and not just in the classroom setting.

She sized me up for a moment, looking me up and down and licking her lips as she did in a not-too-subtle way, “Come stand next to me, please. Let the rest of the class have a look at you.”

I obeyed, crossing to the front of the table with her and then facing the class. She then slowly walked around me, getting a closer look at my body. Then, without warning, she swiftly and rather skillfully grabbed the bottom of my shirt and tugged it up, deftly exposing my very slight mounds of flesh topped with girlish nipples to the whole classroom.

She wasted no time in examining my chest, fondling what little fat there was and poking my nipples experimentally. They were rock hard, and my cock was beginning to become the same. It was in this moment I noticed the kinds of looks I was getting from the other students. Nearly every one of them was eyeing me with interest, not the looks I was used to getting in a classroom setting which were ones of disgust and repulsion. The students of this class were looking at me with lust, a few of them with visible envy for the teacher who was so casually touching my bare chest.

Her hand lowered to my skirt and she did not hesitate at all to flip it up and expose my half-hard member, which was being pressed against my belly by my panties. Ms. Cobalt hooked her thumb into these undergarments and slid them down enough that my cock bounced down and aimed directly at the girl in the desk in front of me. She was a petite Asian girl with glasses and medium-length hair. She was staring at my cock with rapt attention, and I couldn’t help but notice how deep the cleavage of her cute pink tank-top went even though they were probably only C-cups at most.

Ms. Cobalt didn’t just stop at exposing me, she reached down and began stroking my cock, it didn’t take long for it to be full mast and as stiff as it could be. Her hands were very soft but more importantly they were skillful. She was either very talented at this or she got a lot of practice, one way or the other I was happy.

“You’ll stay up here with me for a moment, Quinn,” Ms. Cobalt said, “meanwhile, the rest of class will be taking part in a pop quiz. Please get out your pencils and a piece of paper.” The class did as they were told in a tiny nostalgic flurry of unzipping noises, binders clicking, and papers being rustled. In the meantime, the teacher continued to stroke my length precisely and consistently. My lack of experience in this area was showing itself yet again; as combined with the added stimulus of so many women ogling the scene with lust-filled expressions, I wasn’t far from covering the girl in front of me in a thick glaze.

It seemed that Ms. Cobalt sensed this, as she then addressed the student in front of me directly, “You are excused from the quiz, Hana, I get the feeling your desk may become something of a mess.”

With a nod, the girl cleared her desk, and just in time for my ejaculation to strike. The first long rope of my spunk plastered itself in a thick line across her cheek, followed by another that slapped itself against her forehead, a third found itself within her cleavage. Her reaction to this was mild surprise but no real concern. In fact, when a fourth shot managed to shoot between her lips and into her mouth, her expression became visibly more excited.

Before I could continue my ejaculation, Ms. Cobalt had leaned forward to slip the tip between her soft and pink lips, so the remainder of my climax ended up being swallowed by her.

When it had subsided, she stood upright again, licked her lips, and continued to stroke my sensitive member. Meanwhile, the cute Asian girl, evidently Hana, was busy using her fingers to scoop up the remnants of her facial and pop it into her lips.

“Quite tasty,” Ms. Cobalt said and then turned to the class, “Question number one: what is a sonnet?”

There was a flurry of pencils against paper as the students of the class dutifully and quietly wrote down their answers. I would have been surprised at how well-behaved they were if not for two things. Firstly, they weren’t fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen-year-olds, they were adults. Eighteen, nineteen, and twenty. Most of their hormonal nonsense was done for, and if it wasn’t, they now lived in a world where sexual activity was so normalized that a teacher was allowed to jerk off a new student in the front of the class.

The second reason I wasn’t too surprised about their diligence was Ms. Cobalt herself. She carried herself like a strict teacher who wouldn’t hesitate to make an example out of someone who misbehaved. I had to imagine she had done so already to a few of the students in here.

“Would anyone like to share their answer?” Ms. Cobalt asked.

A redheaded girl seated by the classroom windows raised her hand. When the teacher called on her, she replied, “It is a poetry style invented by Shakespeare, typically about romantic themes. It is written in iambic pentameter, and the final two lines are usually a twist on the previous lines of the poem.”

“Excellent work, Stacy, please come up here and I will have Quinn give you a reward.”

I blinked and Ms. Cobalt began stroking me even more vigorously than before, her hand sliding back and forth along my rigid and slightly sensitive cock rapidly. In the meantime, the redhead stood up and began walking toward me. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt that was tied up under her bust, revealing her soft-looking belly and a pair of hotpants.

“Kneel down and suck him off until he climaxes again,” the teacher ordered, and Stacy obeyed, sliding my tip between her lips and gently bobbing, sucking and slurping on it.

This was too much, I was still sensitive from my last ejaculation, and the combination of the cute redhead’s lips on my tip and the teacher’s vigorous stroking sent me over the edge. Yet another wave of pleasure crashed into me, making my knees weak and requiring me to lean against the table for stability.

I unleashed what felt like a steady stream of spunk into Stacy’s mouth, and watched with satisfaction and pleasure as her eyes widened at the taste. When she began gulping down my load, I was peripherally aware of the fact that Ms. Cobalt had asked the class another question, but I didn’t hear it. All I knew was the sound of swallowing and the jealous looks Stacy was getting from other, equally hot students.

Once my climax had ended, Stacy stood up and smiled. “Thanks, cutie,” she said and made her way back to her desk. I was winded, panting, and weak, but Ms. Cobalt didn’t stop, she resumed stroking me, less intensely but still diligently. The feeling was a strange combination of uncomfortable but not altogether unpleasant, and regardless, I loved it. The idea of being made a reward for all of these girls in any capacity was making my heart soar with delight.

There were four more quiz questions. Each one was answered by a different girl, and each volunteer managed to get a mouthful of my creamy and nutritious sperm, and each of them thanked me after swallowing every drop. The last of them, a raven-haired girl with double-Ds and freckles on her cheeks, even slipped her phone number written on a piece of paper into my palm before returning to her seat.

Once the quiz was done, I was sent to my desk exhausted and sensitive. As fate would have it, I ended up right behind the raven-haired girl. A cursory look at the note she scribbled me informed me that her name was Terra, and I happily added her to my contacts and sent her a text to make sure it was right.

“Hi, what are your classes today?” she asked in text.

“I have Art next with Ms. Elliot, then I have lunch, gym with Coach Carrie, and math with Ms. Merlot.” I replied after double-checking my schedule.

“Nice. We have next class together too. You’re super cute, not what I was expecting when I heard the principal’s kid was coming.” Just hearing a random person of the opposite gender call me cute was threatening to melt my heart.

“Thanks, you’re really cute too.”

She turned her head around and winked at me. We continued to text back and forth for the rest of class while Ms. Cobalt droned on about grammar principles, all of which I was already well-familiar with. I didn’t have much energy to focus anyway, not after the way this class began. I was looking forward to next class, interested to see how the subject of art was being taught in this sexy new world of mine.