Chapter 5: The Showdown in the Dormitory

As night completely fell, the teachers dragged their weary steps back to their dormitories. The faculty dormitories at Trinity College were located in the northwest corner of the campus, a detached two-story building covered in ivy that swayed gently in the night breeze. Most of the lights inside were off, with only a few windows still lit, like lonely eyes in the darkness.

The teacher's room was at the far end of the second floor. He climbed the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly, the sound particularly clear in the quiet corridor. Each step felt unusually heavy, not just from physical exhaustion, but also from the weight on his soul. Everything that had happened in the prayer room that day—the disguise of Weihua, the blasphemous acts, the meaningful words of Saintia—all of it weighed on his heart like a boulder.

He stopped in front of the door and took his key out of his pocket. The key made a slight click as it entered the lock, unusually loud in the silence. He pushed the door open; the room was dark, save for the moonlight streaming in from the window, casting blurry patches of light on the floor.

Then, he smelled that scent.

The fragrance of roses mingled with a faint aroma of tea, and a hint of… Nagisa’s familiar scent. But beneath this, another fragrance lurked—an indescribable, dangerously alluring musk.

The teacher's hand stopped on the doorknob, and his body tensed instantly. He didn't turn on the light, but slowly walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating a corner of the room. On his bed—that simple single bed—sat a man.

Her long, grey-gold hair shimmered softly in the moonlight, a floral embellishment swaying gently beside her left ear. Her cream-colored tea dress appeared a soft, off-white in the darkness, her legs, encased in dark grey pantyhose, were crossed, and the tips of her white high heels lightly touched the edge of the bed. The angel wings on her back were slightly folded, and a red halo hovered above her head, emitting a faint red glow in the darkness.

Nagisa Kirifuji.

Or rather, wearing black clothes made of Zhuren skin.

He sat there on the teacher's bed, his posture elegant and composed, as if this place had always been his. His fingers gently traced the texture of the sheets, his movements slow and rhythmic. Hearing the door open, he looked up, his blue eyes gleaming with an unfathomable light in the moonlight.

“The teacher is back,” he said, his voice gentle and elegant, but with a hint of undisguised pride. “I’ve been waiting for a long time.”

The teacher didn't answer, but stood in the doorway, his hand still gripping the doorknob. His gaze swept across the room—everything was exactly as he had left it that morning: the desk was tidy, the files neatly stacked, the chair pushed back into its place. Only there was an extra person on the bed, someone who shouldn't be there.

"How did you get in?" the teacher finally asked, her voice calm but suppressing some emotion.

“It’s simple.” Nagisa, dressed in black, smiled slightly, her fingers continuing to stroke the bedsheet. “The lock on the teacher’s dormitory is useless to me. Besides, as the teacher’s lover, isn’t it normal for me to have a key?”

He stood up, his movements elegant and fluid. His high heels clicked crisply on the floor as he walked towards the teacher, until the distance between them was less than a meter. Moonlight shone on him, outlining his graceful silhouette—a slender waist, full breasts, and long legs. His dark gray pantyhose gleamed subtly in the moonlight, the fabric at the thighs reflecting light slightly from its tightness.

"The teacher looks very tired today," he said softly, reaching out to touch the teacher's face.

The teacher grabbed his wrist.

The **** was immense, causing the man in black to feel a sharp pain. But instead of struggling, he smiled—a beautiful yet twisted smile.

"Is the teacher angry?" he said, his voice laced with mockery. "Is it because of what happened in the prayer room today? Or because... I wore Weihua's human skin?"

The teacher gripped her hand harder, her nails almost digging into her fair skin. But the woman in black continued to smile, seemingly oblivious to the pain.

“Let me go, teacher,” he said, his tone still relaxed. “Let’s talk business. About… my proposal.”

The teacher stared at him for a few seconds, then released his hand. The man in black rubbed his wrist; a red mark had appeared there, but he didn't seem to care.

“Please sit down, teacher.” He gestured to the bed, then walked to the window, turning his back to the teacher and looking out at the night sky. “Let’s have a good talk.”

The teacher did not sit down, but stood still, her eyes fixed on his back.

“My proposal is simple,” the man in black continued, his voice exceptionally clear in the darkness. “Teacher, join me. Together… we will reshape Givotos. We will break down the old rules and establish a new order. Teacher, you have wisdom and influence, and I… have power and methods.”

He turned around, and the moonlight shone on his profile, making his expression half bright and half dark.

“We can do a lot,” he said, his voice seductive. “Let that false sanctity disappear, let those repressed desires be released. Let every student… show their truest self. Like Nagisa, like Mika…aren’t they more real now? They’ve shed all pretense, all constraints, leaving only the purest…desire.”

The teacher's hands were clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white from the ****.

“What if I say no?” His voice was icy.

The man in black laughed, and the laughter sounded particularly jarring in the quiet room.

“If the teacher says no…” He slowly walked towards the teacher, each step carrying a sense of oppression, “then I will have **** but to… continue my plan. One by one, turn all the students of Trinity into human skin. Mika, Saintia, Koharu, Hifumi… every lovely girl will become my collection.”

He stopped in front of the teacher, the two of them so close they could feel each other's breath.

“I will wear them, one by one, to see the teacher,” he said softly, his voice filled with malice. “I will use their appearance, their voices, their bodies… to serve the teacher. I will let the teacher leave his mark on every girl, let every girl be imbued with the teacher’s scent.”

He raised his hand and gently placed it on the teacher's chest. Through the fabric of the shirt, he could feel the beating of the heart beneath.

"What do you think of this idea, teacher?" he asked, a twisted smile spreading across his face. "Every day there are different girls, every day there are different servants. Mika's passion, Sera's purity, Koharu's innocence, Hifumi's gentleness... Each one of them will make you happy in their own way."

His fingers began to unbutton the teacher's shirt, one button, two buttons...

“And,” he continued, his voice becoming more seductive, “if you join me, teacher, we can do even more. Not just the Holy Trinity, but the entire Givotos… millennium, Ghenna, Abydos… all the students, all the girls, can become our playthings. We can build a new world, a… world where desire reigns supreme.”

The third button was undone, and his fingers slid inside the shirt, directly caressing the teacher's chest. His fingertips drew circles on the pectoral muscles, then moved down, gliding over the abdominal muscles, and finally reaching the waistband.

“Teacher,” he looked up, his blue eyes meeting his teacher’s, “join me. We can enjoy all of this together.”

The teacher looked at him for a long time.

Then, the teacher smiled.

That wasn't a pleasant smile, but a cold, furious one.

"Are you done talking?" the teacher asked, her voice eerily calm.

The man in black paused for a moment, but quickly regained his smile: "I'm done. The teacher's choice is—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Because the teacher moved.

The movement was faster than Blackie had anticipated. The teacher grabbed his shoulder and shoved him backward. Blackie staggered backward, crashing into the desk, scattering documents all over the floor, knocking over the pen holder, and sending pens rolling to the floor.

But he quickly regained his balance, a smile still playing on his lips: "Teacher, what are you going to do—"

The teacher didn't give him a chance to speak. She stepped forward, grabbed his hair—the long, grey-gold hair—and pulled it back forcefully. The man in black was **** to tilt his head back, revealing his pale neck. The teacher's other hand gripped his neck, not to suffocate him, but to control him.

"You think," the teacher's voice rang out in the darkness, each word as cold as an icicle, "that you can threaten me with their appearance?"

The man in black tried to speak, but the teacher's hand gripped his throat, forcing him to utter only muffled sounds.

“You think,” the teacher continued, squeezing his hand harder, “that you can seduce me with their bodies?”

He pressed the man in black against the desk, his body looming over him. The desk's wooden surface was cold and hard, pressing against the man's back. Scattered documents rustled beneath him, and a few pens dug into his side, causing a slight pain.

“You’re wrong,” the teacher said, his voice low and dangerous. “Your biggest mistake was insulting them. You insulted Nagisa, you insulted Mika, you insulted every student you intended to harm.”

He released the black-clad man's neck, but then grabbed the neckline of the tea party dress and yanked it hard.

The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the room. Gold buttons popped off and scattered on the floor with a crisp sound. The cream-colored dress was ripped open from the middle, revealing a white bra underneath, and the full breasts beneath.

The man in black laughed; even in this situation, he continued to laugh.

"Teacher finally... couldn't hold back anymore?" he gasped, his voice hoarse from the earlier ****. "You want to... punish me? In this way?"

The teacher didn't answer, but continued tearing. The skirt was completely ripped open, split in two, and slid to the ground. Now, all that was left on the woman in black was a white bra, dark gray pantyhose, and white high heels.

The moonlight shone on him, illuminating his fair skin and graceful curves. The fabric of his bra was thin, clearly revealing the shape of his breasts and his erect nipples. Pantyhose stretched from his waist to his ankles, clinging to his skin and outlining the smooth lines of his legs.

The teacher's hand went behind him and unhooked his bra.

Her bra slipped down, exposing her full breasts to the air. Her nipples stood slightly erect in the moonlight, a pale pink. The teacher's hand covered them, not stroking, but kneading forcefully, as if venting her anger. Her fingers dug into the soft flesh, squeezing hard, deforming the soft mound in her palm.

"Hmm..." The man in black let out a groan, but not from pain, but from excitement.

The teacher's hands tightened, almost kneading the breasts. Her fingers pinched the nipples, pulling hard, making the pink protrusions red and swollen. Her other hand wasn't idle either, sliding down between his legs and pressing directly on the wet area through his dark gray pantyhose.

"Ah..." The man in black's breathing became rapid, and his body began to tremble slightly.

The teacher's fingers found the crotch of the pantyhose—where a tear had been made, a mark left from previous sexual activity. Her fingers slipped directly into the tear without any resistance, entering the moist passage.

Insert two fingers directly to the deepest point.

"Mmm..." The man in black arched his body, a movement that made his chest stand out even more, his nipples trembling in the air.

The teacher's fingers thrust rapidly inside her body, devoid of any gentleness, only brutal violation. Each entry and exit brought out a large amount of fluid, which soaked her pantyhose, dripped onto the scattered documents, and left dark water stains on the papers.

Meanwhile, the teacher's other hand continued to knead, squeeze, pull, and slap the breasts. Red finger marks quickly appeared on the fair skin, and the nipples became even more swollen and red due to the rough treatment.

“Teacher… harder…” the man in black gasped, his voice filled with lust, “like this… punish me… ah…”

The teacher withdrew his finger and then unzipped his pants. His penis was fully erect, appearing particularly menacing in the moonlight. Veins bulged on the surface, and a clear fluid oozed from the tip of the glans.

He didn't do any foreplay, didn't apply any lubricant. He grabbed the man in black's legs, spread them wide, and then aimed at the wet entrance, thrusting in hard.

"Ah—!" The man in black screamed, his body trembling violently.

This time, the entry was unusually rough. The penis directly stretched open the tight passage, pushing all the way to the deepest point. The teacher could feel every fold of the inner walls, the contraction of the muscles, and the warm embrace.

But he didn't stop and immediately began thrusting.

Each thrust was delivered with full ****, each impact nearly pushing the man in black against the edge of the desk. The sounds of flesh colliding echoed in the room, mingling with the creaking of the swaying desk and the increasingly loud moans from the man in black.

"Ah... Teacher... so deep... it's hitting the spot... ah..." he groaned intermittently, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, his knuckles white from the ****. "Harder... like this... treat me... like a toy... fuck me harder..."

The teacher didn't answer, but his movements became more violent. His hands gripped the black-clad man's buttocks, leaving deep finger marks on his pale skin. Each thrust was filled with anger, the humiliation of being threatened, guilt towards Nagisa and Mika, and worry for all the students who might be harmed.

All these emotions manifested as **** during sexual intercourse.

The thrusting became faster and more forceful. The penis moved wildly in and out of the wet passage, bringing out more and more fluid. That fluid splattered on the desk, on the floor, and on the scattered documents. Some documents were completely soaked, and the writing on them became illegible.

The groans in black grew louder and more out of control. His body swayed violently with each impact, his chest tracing alluring arcs in the air, his nipples hardening with excitement, glistening slightly in the moonlight. His long, grey-gold hair lay scattered on the desk, a few strands clinging to his sweaty cheeks.

The dark gray pantyhose was completely torn, ripped from the crotch all the way to the upper thigh. The tear revealed a pink slit inside, which was now opening and closing with the thrusting movements, constantly gushing out a liquid mixed with bodily fluids and prostatic fluid.

“Teacher…I’m…I’m going to…ah…” he screamed, his body tensing and his back arching, “With the teacher…ah…”

At that very moment, the teacher also reached his limit.

He thrust deeply, burying his penis completely into the repeatedly ravaged passage, and then ejaculated.

Hot semen filled my body, permeating every corner. Ejaculation lasted several seconds, each pulse clearly felt. The semen spread throughout my body, bringing a burning, full sensation.

The black-clad man's climax erupted. His body trembled violently, his internal muscles spasmed, and more fluid gushed out, mixing with the teacher's semen, seeping from their point of contact, running down his thighs, and dripping onto the floor.

The climax lasted for about ten seconds, then slowly subsided.

The teacher withdrew, his penis pulling out with it, bringing with it a large amount of cloudy white fluid that splashed onto the desk, the floor, and even the walls. The man in black slumped onto the desk, panting heavily, his body still trembling slightly.

After a long while, he slowly sat up. His dark gray pantyhose were completely soaked and torn, barely covering his body. His chest was covered in red fingerprints, and his nipples were swollen and erect. Saliva was still stuck to the corners of his mouth, and his long, gray-gold hair was disheveled.

But he smiled.

It was a satisfied, triumphant smile.

"The teacher is indeed... very powerful," he said breathlessly, his voice languid after their lovemaking. "Such a brutal... punishment... makes me... very satisfied."

He tried to stand up, but his legs were so weak that he could barely support himself and had to hold onto the desk to keep his balance.

The teacher looked at him with cold eyes.

"Get out," the teacher said, her voice devoid of any warmth.

Hei Fu laughed and began picking up the torn skirt from the ground, but didn't try to put it on; he just held it in his hand.

“The teacher was very angry today,” he said, his tone still light. “But it’s okay. We… will see each other again.”

He walked to the door, but before opening it, he paused and looked back.

“Oh, right,” he said, his fingers gently tracing his swollen nipples, “Teacher’s semen today… was quite a lot. It’s all… inside. I’ll keep it safe….”

He opened the door and went out.

The sound of high heels gradually faded away in the corridor, finally disappearing at the top of the stairs.

The teacher stood there, looking at the mess in the room—the torn dress, the scattered documents, the mixed liquid on the floor, the stains on the desk, and the pervasive atmosphere of lust and **** in the air.

He walked to the window and looked outside.

The night was deep, and the campus of Trinity College was quiet. The chimes of the clock tower in the distance echoed through the night sky.

The teacher clenched his fist.

He knew that the battle was not over yet.

Moreover, he must win.

For Nagisa, for Mika, for all the students who might be harmed.

He must find a way to defeat the Black Clothes and rescue the girls who have been turned into human skin.

No matter the cost.