Master PC - Brainrot Edition 2.0

Hey hey, I got a commission for the first time, and for some frightening reason they requested more Master PC Brainrot. Hope you all enjoy and per usual, I am SOOOOO incredibly sorry...

The glazing started around fifth period.

I had just finished lunch on an otherwise unmemorable Friday, but on my way to Chemistry I overheard the babes, Cameron and McKinley, talking about some streaming show Cameron liked.

"No seriously McKinz, if you're really into that dark fantasy romance, enemies-to-lovers stuff, it's a slow-burn--but they just wrapped season 1 and I cannot WAIT to see what they do next."

"For real?"

"Oh yeah, the FINALE ALONE was like... thinking about getting dicked down by that stud Martin in my second period."

I remember coughing in surprise. I was drinking from my nalgene and it went down the wrong pipe when I heard the girl's rather lurid metaphor.

"I-uh-Cameron what?" McKinley stuttered, having only been half-listening until then.

Cameron blinked twice, shaking her head like it was covered in dust, her hand reaching toward her lips.

"Bleh, sorry I--jesus--I don't know why I said that, hahaha," Cameron laughed, "What I meant was the finale was great but compared to the thought of getting thrown over a desk naked and railed from behind by Martin, GAHHHHH I-don't-know-his-last-name-from-period 2, it's trash."

Eyes wide, Cameron clapped a hand over mouth to shut herself up, her eye twitching back and forth in confusion.

"Hey uh, you know, you do you, sister *thumbs ups*," it was McKinley's turn to chuckle nervously, "I just thought you were into Danny."

"I am!" Cameron whispered, letting her hand move just enough so she could speak, "I just want Martin to tear open my yoga pants with his big strong hands and spank my jiggly ass until I can't remember Danny's name -eep!"

Her hand quickly returned to its upright and mouth-covering position. McKinley was growing concerned.

"Um Cameron? Are you okay?" The blonde asked. "Cause you sound like me whenever I frig myself stupid picturing that guy I don't even know in your second period, what's his name? Martin, plastering my face white with jizz. Do you think he likes bratty cum sluts?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, McKinley blanched, exasperation on her face as she looked around the room, hoping no one else had heard her. Unfortunately, she didn't have to look long.

"Um, I'm sorry. What the hell are you two talking about?" A shorter girl named Sadie butt in, standing by a locker on the far side of the hall.

Cameron shook her head, keeping her mouth sealed, but McKinley just kept going.

"I-uhh-what the fuck did I just say--I meant to say I'd love to be Martin's cum-faced cumrag cumdumpster. I'd use his cum as lube to titfuck him while his balls teabagged my dumb slut face--ohmygod!"

Turning paler by the second, McKinley slapped both hands over her traitorous mouth. The new girl, Sadie, just looked on in disgust.

"You guys shouldn't be talking like that, there are underclassmen here," she rebuked, "besides I keep hoping Martin will ****, ****, and throw me in the back of his trunk so he can take me off grid and fuck me to his heart's content. Just plowing me over and over while keeping me a comatose vegetable, Rabbi Schultzman be damned!

Sadie, now red a tomato, let out a small squeaking cough before continuing,"Assuming you meant Martin Clarke, that is."

"CLAA-ARKE! That's his name," Cameron responded unbidden, like she was letting out a burp she couldn't contain. "GAWD, I should tattoo it on my ass for being such a stupid fuckdoll."

"I wanna have his babies," McKinley groaned in kind, "And I don't even know what he looks like!"

"Even if the police fucking rescued me, I'd keep the clothes they found me in," Sadie shuddered violently, "and wear them to the trial, so I could feel our juices dribble down my legs while I took the stand--whattheACTUALfuck!"

Hands shaking, the girls tried to quell the slurry of Martin Clarke dirty talk streaming from their mouths, but each new comment only seemed to rile up the trio further and gain them even more attention.

"Alright, can we take the Martin Clarke fan club outside?" Came the rather annoyed voice of a star volleyball player, Hannah Glick, "cause I want passing cars to see me squirting on the pavement while I pantomime **** on his dick--thehelldidIjustsay!!"

"Ew--you guys are so gross!" Cried Alex Mendoza. "This beta female can't help going into heat whenever an alpha like Martin tries to knot with her. Ruff ruff ruff."

I got the sense Alex was into Omegaverse fics.

"And this is why I'm gay," Jackie confided to her best friend Colleen, "so I can seduce ditzy twats like you into an Eiffel Tower-threesome with Martin 'the cervix puncher' Clarke."

"Okay fine, but I'm wearing the strap-on," the usually quiet Colleen was shocked to hear herself agree.

More lurid confessions filled the hall, and would likely have continued if Ms. Thompson hadn't entered the crowd. Pressing two fingers to her lips, the bespectacled teacher let out an ear-piercing whistle, stopping the girls in their tracks and silencing everyone--including Erika Hamby mid-shockingly-detailed fisting description.

"LADIES. Let me remind you this is an educational facility," Ms. Thompson said, with a sternness that could cut glass, "such inappropriate language will not be tolerated while on school grounds and will CEASE IMMEDIATELY or you will all be facing...DETENTION."

The girls stilled, waiting for Ms. Thompson's tirade to reach its inevitable Martin-fucking conclusion, but none came. The eeriness weighed on the hallway at the unexpected strangeness of hearing a sentence start and end without a kinky Martin sex fantasy in between. Had the spell been broken?

"Now proceed to 5th period, or I'll make each of you toss my salad and post a recording of it to Instagram so Martin Clarke can see how many tongues I can get up my big black ass."

Evidently not.

I remember reading a story about a group of 16th century peasants who had hysterically started dancing for days on end. No one could get them to stop, and it seemed the longer they danced, the more people joined, the act itself spreading like a contagious disease. Those early days of Martin felt a lot like that, and like Medieval peasants, we didn't have the knowledge or technology to even know what we were dealing with.

By now, half the girls were hyperventilating and/or crying.

A red-faced Sadie had a snot bubble inflating from her nose as she related her desire to deep throat a Martin-shaped dildo in front of her parents. McKinley had sunk to the floor and was rocking back and forth, following a particularly colorful account of how shed lick her fingers after she got a Martin creampie, and Cameron was practically biting her hands trying to stop her mouth from disclosing how much she secretly really wanted to try anal. With only Martin's big dick, of course.

The buzz of the intercom suddenly filled the hall, the disembodied voice of one of the front desk ladies interrupting the babbling girls.

"~Would Martin Clarke please report to the front office. Martin Clarke please report to the front office. The vice principal and I can't wait to cuck our husbands with your superior cock~"

The girls froze, even in their addled state they could realize the implication of the announcement. They had a location. A location where Martin Clarke was soon to be.

"I'll lick up anything that's left!" McKinley declared, tongue lolling out as she crawled across the floor.

"I'm taking off my clothes now," chattered a stripping Hannah, "so when we meet him there, I can show him how wet he makes me."

"jackie, stuff her panties in your dyke-mouth," said the ostensibly bisexual now Colleen.

"Yes mistress," Her friend dutifully obeyed, scooping up the girl's discarded undergarments with an indulgent chomp.

"I just--I just--I just--I--," trembled Cameron against her locker, trying to hold herself back as more and more girls started to run to the front office. "I just CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HOW MUCH MY STOMACH STRETCHES OUT WITH MARTIN'S DICK INSIDE ME," she finally shrieked, willpower crumbling as she rushed to sprint, legging-clad caboose bouncing all the way.

"Wait Cameron, don't go," it was Ms. Thompson turn this time, trying to maintain her authority as she limped after the troublemakers. "Let me rimjob that thing first! Your asshole needs to be perfect before it's stuffed with Martin Clarke's AMAZING cock."

Narrowly avoiding the stampede of lusty girls, I ducked into the nearest men's room, holding the door shut as they charged past me, constantly screaming more horny obscenities.

From the sound of it, others had joined their cause, racing from the nearby classrooms in a frantic herd, groaning and moaning as they went. When the last of their sneakers finally squeaked past my hideout, I slumped to the grungy bathroom tile, breathing heavily in the eerie quiet.

Now in case anyone's wondering, my name's Gavin.

This isn't Martin's dossier, with some gimmick like I'm pretending to be some innocent bystander while girls go gaga over my dick. No, Martin was very much aware of and actively creating the chaos that virtually NUKED my home town in the days that followed. Hit him up for the sordid details, I'm sure he has plenty of wild stories to tell, unlike me.

No no, my story begins in that bathroom. The day I "sort of" met Martin's sister Julia.

Dusting off my pants, I moved from the floor to wash my hands. Still unsure of what to make of the girls outside, you can understand how flustered I was when I saw what had been done to the bathroom wall.

"So, um...hey.y.y.y.y.y.y."

There was a voice behind me, feminine and a little gravelly especially as she drew out the end of "hey"with each successive "y". Initially assuming I had entered the wrong toilet, I spun around only to find...well...there's no use beating around the bush.

The urinals affixed to the wall had seemingly grown human body parts. Each now bearing the faces, breasts, and buns of one of the senior cheerleaders.