Flawed Insurances and a Mommy Dom Principle

New Rule: The owner of this notebook, Michael Smith, is protected from the following acts on school property: theft of any kind, physical ****, and physical or mental restraint unless otherwise desired. They can not get in trouble for any perverted things they do or say.

Beside you, Mrs. Connors manages to pull her wet body to her feet. She leans against a table as her cunt continues to spasm and loudly pants out, "Stah-Stop this at once!" Her hand rubs at her thigh absentmindedly while her eyes roam around the room in continued shock and horror. "I-I- Mrs. Stevens! C-class!"

Remember your earlier inspiration and put pencil to paper yet again:

New Rule: The principle is first and foremost a servant of the community. Her first priority is helping her students, and her greatest love and most important role is helping them with sex. She takes that role incredibly seriously, and is like a protective motherly figure to her pupils, providing a steady corrective and perverted hand.

Mrs. Connors lurches forwards and grunts, clawing at her body as her entire worldview shifts mid-orgasm. "Wha... What was I... s-saying?"

Her eyes widen at the display before her, and her hand unapologetically dives below her skintight skirt, stretching it to its limits. Jake, the aforementioned track star, stares at her from the corner of the room, his hand slowly stroking his thick member through his shorts.

Catching his eye from across the room, Mrs. Connors adopts a wide, beaming smile and manages to get her feet under her. To the class, she says, "W-wonderful w-w-work! I'm a-ah! Always excited to see my students happy. In control of their desires."

To Jake, she lifts her tits with cupped hands and nearly falls as her orgasm intensifies. She manages to stay up, swaying on her heels, then drops a boob so that she can point at Jake's throbbing member and say, "Let me help with that!"

He simply gulps and nods, hands falling to his sides in nervous anticipation when Mrs. Connors starts to cross the room. She looks to the rest of the class and says, "Keep up the great work! Have fun Heather! And don't worry boys and girls, I can help anyone with their pent up frustrations that needs it! Just let me know!"

She pauses next to Natalie and pats the poor girl's head. After pulling a sopping hand out of her skirt, she cups Natalie's cheek while sliding her dry hand hand into Natalie's shirt through the gaping arm holes. She caresses the bare titflesh for a few moments, and you watch it jiggle and sway under the principle's hand and under the frantic movement of Natalie's cumming body.

The principal gives the tit a final pat and lifts herself up, leaving a viscous trail on Natalie's cheek where her wet hand was. Without a second thought, the principle slips her dry hand into her skirt and continues walking on shaking legs, using the wet one to give light touches to the guys she passes by.

The girls are starting to seem a little too lucid, the light coming back into their eyes. Allie, for her part, has finally come down from her orgasms and looks like she'd be punching you if she could. Not today, bitch. And it's all thanks to your magic book and impeccable rule making skills. Absolutely nothing can go wrong, and it certainly never will.

Right?

In order to get your mind back in the game, you lazily say, "Hey funbags," to a girl rolling on the floor next to you. Her arms stiffen and fly to her pussy, but pull back at the last moment as she humps the empty air. One hand grabs your hand and places it on her soft breast since you greeted her, but she holds it there longer than you expect a casual greeting would allow. Not that you mind at the moment.

You take the opportunity to catch Mrs. Connors' slow approach towards Jake. She gets closer with each passing second, her shapely ass pushing against her too-small and askew skirt, but she's slowed by her impulsive need to touch and kiss and pump and help all the students in her path. Her proud walk and bright smile make her look the part of the proud momma hen she's acting, which is a far cry from her previous righteous indignation and "misplaced" protectiveness.

Every time she presses her MILF titty into a cumming student's sweaty face, every time she rubs her hand along a guy's hard package, it's encouraging and enlightening. Proud and protective in just the right way.

You almost close the book, but then you see Dave eyeing you with clear suspicion and anger. His cock is hard, but his hands are nowhere near it. Instead, they are wrapped around his girlfriend Gwen's body and rubbing her back. She holds him tightly, her extraordinarily huge bust cup breasts pressing into his chest and revealing a glorious amount of shaking sideboob from behind. She humps her hand frantically while muffling her screaming and crying with her head in the nook of his shoulder.

After one more look at Jake, you smirk and edit your orgasm rule. It once read the following:

New Rule: Whenever Michael Smith, the one currently writing in this notebook, says something perverted in front of a girl she will have a very satisfying orgasm rock her body. If given many in succession through this method, each orgasm will be stronger and more intense than the last.

Once you finish with your edits, though, it reads:

New Rule: Whenever Michael Smith, the one currently writing in this notebook, says something perverted to anyone of age, they will have a very satisfying orgasm rock their body. If given many in succession through this method, each orgasm will be stronger and more intense than the last.

You close the book and leave it on the edge of your edge of your desk. It can't be stolen, so it's probably fine. Addressing the entire class, you once more call out, "Hey, all you girls have such huge honkers! So hot. So jiggly from your orgasms! Just imagine what they'd look like if we made a porno!"

"Fuuuuuck! Augh, Uh, di... di-did I do that, s-sweetie?" Mrs. Connors looks down at a guy in glasses and affectionately rubs his chest while pointing at his spasming crotch, a wet stain spreading across it. He just looks down and grunts, his hips thrusting again as another orgasm begins. Mrs. Connors rubs her breast on his face as she leans down, then cups his twitching member through his cum-soaked pants.

You lean across the aisle and scratch Allie's head while wailing cries fill the rest of the room. She weakly swats at your hand, but when she can't muster the energy her hands fall limply back to her thighs and crotch.

Looking around, you see face after face scrunched in fatigue and pain and overwhelming pleasure. The tight and revealing clothes you had **** on the women of the school only serve to highlight each and every girl's sexuality. Their faces run black and colored, mascara and makeup spreading across their sweaty and tear-streaked faces.

The guys are getting a small taste of what the women have experienced so far, but for some of them (particularly the frequent masturbators, you can't help but think) their fuel supply is running low already. Then again, they all are in the midst of their second or third orgasm in a row, each of which is more satisfying than the last.

The ones who are most afflicted are easy to spot; they hold their junk or thighs in clenched fists and grit their teeth while curling around their midsection, their cocks pushing up and down on their pants despite the lack of additional fluid. Still, all are feeling some level of pleasure, and those who haven't been completely reduced

Next to you, Dave whimpers, futilely glancing in your direction as if to get up. He even tenses his legs and lifts slightly before his fourth orgasm rocks him back on his ass, his dick throbbing against his darkened crotch. Gwen just gasps, swings her leg over his lap, and plops down, too tired to move much more energetically than that. Like many in the room, Dave's eyes unfocus as he grasps Gwen's juicy ass in the throes of passion.

You're forgotten, a potential instigator not worth remembering at this point. Dave groans into his girlfriend's neck while she moans and lightly rubs her naked, dripping pussy against his member.

You scramble onto a desk. With a series of loud snaps, you capture the glorious mass of writhing, drained and scandalous bodies on your phone. The few cognizant enough to mutter protests are silenced by your exclamation, "Don't worry, these are just for the good ol' spank bank!"

Well, silenced is the wrong word, since the screaming in the room only intensified. It was a collective sound of orgasmic euphoria harmonizing the symphony. Pained cries, sobs, and mutterings punctuate the climactic moment of the shared climax as a meaningful undercurrent, underlying the happy bliss in the room.

The sounds devolve once more, a cacophonous rumble of pleasure. Mrs. Connors' coos carry above the noise as she strokes every student she can, and the shower continues to dowse Mrs. Stevens and Heather in their accidental, tired dalliance.

You feel your dick pressing into your jeans. An urgent need for your own release. Rubbing your thigh, you look around the room, then glance back to your book.

"Hey, asswipe!"

SMACK!

Stinging pain in the ass!

You whirl on your heel, fists raised. Allie glares at you, grimacing and with her hands on her knees even as trace amounts of fluid run down her legs.

"A-ass-asshole," she gets out through gritted teeth, raising her hair-plastered face to meet your eyes. "Fucking STOP whatever the, the goddamned shit it is that you're doing!"