Rebecca Roache's Porn Binge

They had her watching porn. In the hours they spent aligning the laptop with her eyes, Rebecca became intimately familiar with every vein and freckle of its stars. She could recite them if asked, along with the woman's breast size, how hard the man gripped her waist, and a frame by frame play of how the starlet scowled while taking it from behind. The sight seared from her optic nerves into her genius brain like burn-in on a computer screen. Before long, her every waking thought would be consumed by still images of these two people fucking. She knew because all her efforts at distraction failed. Logic arguments and rote philosophies she relied on for her lectures rapidly devolved into figuring out how hard the stud must be pounding the woman to make her cheeks ripple.

In a single afternoon, the once esteemed Rebecca Roache would have several lifetimes worth of porn binging to her credit, and enough expertise on this clip to describe it in more pages than her dissertation.

What she couldn't say was what they said. The video moved too slow, leaving annoying buzzes instead of words. She couldn't even analyze their use of swears like fuck or whore in this context to render some meaning to this part of her punishment.

Her former students provided no other sensations to focus on. At least they clothed her to hide her new nipple and clit rings, and the plug shoved up her ass. She had grown accustomed to its fullness in what felt like years worth of training her butt to accept many shapes and sizes. The bumps on her most recent model lost their effect by the time sitting pushed the plug as deep as it would go. Her whole shithole had gone numb.

She learned decades ago not to try talking. It would take an eternity to get it out, and nobody would understand with her slurring. She saved that energy to endure the mind-numbing inanity of her new life.

If she lived in the same time frame as her ex-students, Rebecca would have noticed how loud they had turned up her laptop's speakers. She would have also noticed other students whispering about her, and the note taped to her head.

"She must really love her porn," a freshman said after reading the porn addict version of a Do Not Disturb sign. To them, her zoned out face confirmed her obsession. She couldn't be bothered to stop and look around. Or react to the man coming to escort her out of the building.

But from her perspective, that wouldn't happen for another 1000 years at least. Until then, she would have to enjoy her only entertainment.