sexual-sadistic

4'3

Mrs Scott just stood there for a moment. Back against the door, blocking my exit, staring at me shamelessly, while I returned her look, confused about her intentions.

Then, as she had made up her mind, she stalked towards me, with slow and pronounced clacks. I couldn't ignore the arrogant swagger in her step, the seductive sway in her hips or the way she pushed out her bust.

That wasn't there before one moment ago.

"So, Davey... When did you start getting smaller? Tell me about it!" Mrs Scott asked once she arrived next to my desk, hands on her hips, as if she was scolding me. There was no worry in her voice, but a glaring smugness accompanied by a grin as she glanced down to me.

An uneasy blush had crept onto my face.

"I... I'm not sure... I-I mean it started at the morning... Today. I picked up this gem like stone... and... " I stuttered away what came to my mind, like a boy who just had his first wet dream and wasn't sure if he should be scared or ashamed. Mrs Scott would surely understand.

Suddenly I felt her hand grip my hair painfully, releasing an abject yelp as I tried to pull away.

"Now that's all very, very interesting, Davey." Mrs Scott cooed with a sharp undertone. She took another step towards me, her thick thigh almost touching my shoulder through the fabric of her grey, knee high pencil skirt. I wanted to cringe away, if it weren't for her merciless grip. I could smell her warm cinnamon perfume, making me dizzy with a push of traitorous heat in my cheeks "But I think I have heard enough..."

Before I could confront her about what she was doing, as her role of a teacher to one of her protégés, she ripped me by my hair into her covered crotch, which she rammed only further into my face with a flick of her hips.

"Do you smell that, boy?" Mrs Scott hissed above me, just keeping me in that position.

In the first moment I was utterly thrown off, not sure or not believing what just happened. Warmth enveloped my cheeks. The warmth turned into scorching heat at my nose, with a slight dampness.

Once I got my bearings, I rose my arms to push her off. What the fuck was she doing? She was mental! ...

"No, no, no_, _Davey..." I heard her giggle and then felt her free left hand snatch my small, shrunken arms mid-movement and held them still, just like my head.

I had held my breath, mostly from shock. But now I grunted with frustration and exertion, as I tried to overpower my math teacher. But she barely nudged, and her grip around my wrists grew only more agonizingly intense, as if she was going to crush them. With another yelp into her privates, the sweet-salty scent of her arousal sneaked into my nose and mouth, and I first became aware what she was on about.

I kicked out my legs and strained my neck, trying to get some leverage on her and escape the strong dirty-humid smell. But it was futile. Mrs Scott had an athletic build, and I lost more than a foot of my size. I only slid more and more off my chair, putting more **** on my already stressed hair roots. I felt hot tears seeping into her skirt from the pain.

"I take that as a yes, boy." Mrs Scott growled, as she rubbed me up and down her crotch. Then she released my hair, and I jerked back and gratefully gasped for fresh oxygen, as cold, fresh air hit my hot and sweaty face.

Her left hand was still in a vice grip around my wrists, but at least I could steady myself by sitting upright again.

Mrs Scott exploited my moment of bewilderment, to hastily hike up her pencil skirt, revealing plain and deep black cotton panties, prominently bulged by her sex.

With no less than fear I noticed the circular wet spot that had formed on the smooth pattern-less fabric, followed by a humid-hot wave of her stench hitting my square in the face.

Skilled fingers slid the fabric aside. A rampant bush of curly brown-orange hair was at the top of her pussy, covering the beginning of her glistening labia, hiding her clitoris, while below it was cleanly shaved. I had never seen a woman's privates in real life, and couldn't stop gawking at the pretty flowery structure, while feeling myself getting hard at the shining, juicy skin.

I was ripped out of my indecency as Mrs Scott painfully pulled my hands above my head.

"W-What... Mrs S-Scott, what are..." I cried out, partly at the pain, partly from fear.

"Quiet boy!" She spat at me violently, making my involuntarily recoil. Mrs Scott wasn't interested in wasting any more time with my whining.

Her right hand snaked into my hair again, getting a good grip, ready to get me back into position.

"N-No... No stop this, S-Stop. I don't..." I pleaded, kicking weakly and trying to turn me head to the side. But Mrs Scott would have none of that.

With a forceful she shoved my face into her cunt, my nose right into her rose bush, while my mouth kissed her wet lips with a audible smack. Wiry hair stung into my cheeks and eyes, while her slimly fragrant skin moulded to my chin and mouth, its heat burning on my small face.

"That's it, boy..." I heard Mrs Scott sigh above me, like after a hard days work. All while I double my efforts to escape my ****, screaming through closed lips and jerking my body like a snake caught by its head.

"Stay still, stupid boy." barked Mrs Scott above me, as she began to rock her hips, sliding my nose through her slit, as her pungent juices were shoved into my breath ways. I screamed into her cunt, as I inhaled the rich salty and slightly sweet mixture, feeling it burn in my lungs, and seep in through my mouth.

A shudder went through Mrs Scott at my scream, and I heard her throaty moan ring out above me, and hump my sore face faster. At the same time I hit something with my still kicking left foot.

I once again was free from her dripping sex as I stared into Mrs Scott's searing hazel brown eyes, as she strained me head upward with her grip on my hair.

"You stupid little shit, fucking cunt face. You stay still if I tell you so." Mrs Scott seethed, hot anger contorted her usually pretty face into a horrifying mask.

Suddenly I felt the pressure around my wrists disappear. However I couldn't revel in it, before a hammering slap hit my right cheek, rippling through my skull and neck. Mrs Scott had held my head still, making me feel its full ****.

At first I was stunned at the sudden ****, but then slowly the pain arrived. My right cheek felt numb and swollen as hot flashes of pain shot through my face as if someone was trying to break my skull open with a smouldering crowbar. My vision twisted repeatedly to the right, like a broken recorder, while I felt tears run down my face, mixing with the fluids that still adorned it.

"Now be obedient and stay still, silly boy. And stop crying, wimp, or I will really make you bawl your fucking eyes out."

Yes she would. I got that by now. She didn't give a single shit about me, if I got hurt or worse. All she wanted was her own gratification. And she exploited my situation, without a even a little hesitation. She would hurt me if I didn't yield. She could, now. Easily. And she really would.

Mrs Scott didn't care that my arms fell freely to my sides, as she shoved me back into her now sopping wet sex.

This whole thing was turning her on, I thought with horror.

Slurping and squelching sounds filled my ears, as she fucked my bruised face in a rougher tempo than before. I had given up on keeping my mouth and nose free of her stingy and slimy secretions, as I had to fight for every breath. They were freely joining my saliva and filling my mouth, making me cough as its soggy viscosity was clogging my nose and throat. Mrs Scott couldn't care less, moaning in ecstasy while she drowned her pupil ruthlessly in her excess.

Or right heeled foot joined me on my chair, her smooth naked thigh rubbing against my left cheek, as she got a better angle to stimulate her pussy. The new position allowed her to grind me into her folds and the patch of soaked pubic hair with greater ferocity. She practically beat me to a pulp with her pussy, loud smacks ringing in my ears, her grip on my hair becoming only tighter with her rising lust. I would have broken my nose against her pubic bone many times over if it were a little bigger.

"God, fuck yesss. That's it, boy." Mrs Scott hissed in pleasure, and then pulled me away once again and released my hair. Only to grip it with her left hand.

"Look at me, Davey. Look at me with those puppy eyes." Mrs Scott huffed, her voice thickly laced with deviant desire. "Look. At. Me."

I timidly looked into her insane eyes. A condescending grin formed on her lips. Then, without forewarning, the **** of her flat right hand crashed into my left cheek. Her grip on my hair was too loose this time, making my head whip around violently and an audible cracking sound emanate from my neck. A pitiful cry left my lips, as my body sacked into itself, only held up by the merciless grip of Mrs Scott on my hair.

The pain wasn't as bad as before, but the pain wasn't the problem. It was the absolute sadism, the cold exploitation and ****, Mrs Scott intent to hurt me without remorse or pity. Physical pain comes and goes. Mental one might never leave.

"Look at me, boy." Mrs Scott cooed with false sweetness. The hand that had hit me a moment before, now gently stroking my burning skin, while her left hand tightened her grip on my hair.

"Come on." She whispered.

Her eyes still had that condescending glint, but they were also softer, more relaxed. I saw understanding and pity, and felt myself relax. I hadn't noticed how tense my whole body was until that moment, my arms and legs literally shaking and my breaths going flat and short. The relaxation felt like soothing cold water, washing away the pain in my body.

Then, with a mocking raise of her eyebrow, her right hand smashed into my cheek again like a whip.

The slap rung out throughout my body, leaving a disorienting whirring in my ears. The false sense of security, she coaxed me into skilfully, only increased its agony. I began crying right then and there, without restraint. Sobbing over the shameless greed of this person I thought was my math teacher. My broken trust, grounded to bits under the heel of her dirty boots.

"Awww. Is the little boy sad?" Mrs Scott cooed in a kindergarten teacher voice, like talking to a 3 year old.

"If you really dislike this so much, Davey... then why do you have that cute stiffy?" Mrs Scott whispered into my ear, while her right hand gripped my raging erection forcefully, and gave it a sharp tug.

My sobbing fits only increased in intensity, as I couldn't bear the thought that there was something in me that enjoyed this. And beyond that, that there was something that justified Mrs Scott treatment, that welcomed it. It the destroyed the image I had of myself. The shy and helpful boy, you could always ask for help. That I was someone else.

_No I am not. No I am not. _She was in my head.

"Hush, hush, now. Listen." Mrs Scott finger snaked itself under my chin, and gently rose my red and teary eyes to her calm gaze. "I want to cum on that cute face of yours. Give you a nice glazing." She giggled. "And you are going to be a good boy, and stick out that little tongue of yours. Make sure to keep that mouth wide open so I can cum down your little throat." She emphasized her words by tracing the finger from my chin along my jugular to my chest, where she tapped my skin a few times. "Understood?"

It wasn't a question. Her gentle tone didn't disguise the fact, that there were no "buts" or compromises. Nonetheless I wouldn't comply. I couldn't give up this last spark of fight to her.

She sensed my ****, and put on a playful pout on her beautiful face. How can someone so cruel be so breath-taking in looks and demeanour? It made my heart sting.

"Yes, yes, yes, Davey. That's what is going to happen." She emphasized her point, by standing up straight again and pushing her pungent cunt right in front of my face, while the grip on my hair tightened again. "We can do this the easy way." She shoved my face from top to bottom through her swollen lips, the copious fluids that had collected there in my absence intruded into my nose and made me cough violently. Mrs Scott giggled in sadistic glee.

"Or we can do this the hard way." Her right had mockingly patted my still burning left cheek, making me cringe in fear.

"So what is it. Boy."

My legs and hands had begun shaking again, while I inhaled her rich scent. Nonetheless I remained still, keeping my mouth tightly shut.

"Hmpf. However you wish. You should know by this point that I am getting what I want. Always."

To my surprise, she shoved me into her red and swollen cunt. I imagined that she beat me again, until I give in. But now realized that she wanted to play a different game. Her slick lips moulded around my mouth and nose like a slimy face mask, cutting off any source of oxygen. The grip on my head tightened further, keeping my still and letting me marinade in her sizzling hot juices, while her orange bush scratched over my closed eyes. Her right foot was still propped on my chair, he muscly thigh caressing my cheeking.

My agitated body soon began to scream for oxygen, reflexive contractions trying to breath in air that wasn't there. Instead I took in a stream of her hot and salty secretions, part of which were immediately expelled through the following coughing fit.

Mrs Scott laughed wickedly at my struggles, humping my face gently as if to encourage me to keep going.

"That's it boy. Breath in my yummy juices. Let me fill that dirty little mouth of yours..."

I began to panic. A natural reaction, as I was caught in a never ending cycle of coughing and spastically breathing in her fluids until the spongy skin of her inner lips stuck to my nostrils. My tired arms gripped at her thighs, trying to push her away, beating on her skin while my legs kicked empty air. She whisked my arms away like annoying flies, wrapping her large right hand around my wrists and keeping them pinned.

"Yes, struggle, boy. This makes my victory only so much sweeter, when you finally decide to be a good doggy and lap at my yummy cunt."

Finally I broke. Something in me broke. My mouth opened, but it wasn't me. I didn't tell it to do that. The specific salty-sweet taste of her pussy lightened up like fireworks all over my tongue, but I never had commanded it to leave the safety of my mouth. It was sticking straight out, squishing into the little pocket of pussy that was my world for the last few minutes. The scent of a dominant older woman now fully invading my mind, breaking down any resistance.

"Gooood boy." Mrs Scott hummed accompanied by a sex-drunken moan and a shudder.

But her grip didn't soften one bit, as she began rocking on my tiny tongue, while I still spasmed into air-less unconsciousness.

"Deeper." She ordered.

In a panicked frenzy, I tried to push more of my organ inside her, give up more of myself to her. My eyes opened in exertion, I didn't care about her pubic hair stinging my eyeballs, didn't even feel it, while I painfully strained my little tongue, swished it around inside her, trying to make her feel my devotion and reward me with a tiny bit of oxygen, as he slimy nectar dribbled into my wide open mouth.

"Deeper." She ordered again.

But there was no more tongue to give.

So I smashed my whole face into her skin. Trying to create the illusion of more. Trying to humour her, by deliberately debasing myself. Her pubic hair mockingly irritating my eyes, reminding me with every sting that I didn't care.

Please, I only want to survive this.

"Good boy, Davey!" Fresh air hit me finally. Fresh oxygen burned in my lungs as my body was gasping and coughing out of my control, held up only by the her hand in my hair. I convulsed as I hacked up the slimy excretions that had nested into my windpipe, splattering them in the space below me.

"No, no, no, Davey. Keep your mouth open, your tongue out, and my yummy pussy syrup inside you." Mrs Scott chided me, patting me cheeks.

As if some unworldly power had taken control of me I felt myself clamping my mouth shut, collecting the coughed up secretions inside it before swallowing it down again dutifully. Then I opened wide and stuck out my tongue as far into the cool classroom air as I could.

Mrs Scott laughed merrily, the sound resounding through the empty classroom.

"I see, someone is eager to please." She said, once she calmed down and gave me an expectant look, still some bemusement in her eyes. I just starred at her blankly, not sure what to do.

"Isn't that right, little boy?" A dangerous tone rose in her voice, as I apparently had done something wrong. I felt the a surge of panic rise in me, the feeling still fresh.

"Yeth, Mrtheth Scott" I squeaked, not daring to pull in my drying tongue to speak.

She smiled and I felt a stone lift from my heart. "Good." One of her fingers gently fished out a pubic hair that was stuck to my cheek.

"And what are you going to do to please me, boy?"

The question hung in the air like a **** sentence. My tired mine started to panic again, as I tried to wring out the answer she wanted, the answer that wouldn't lead to more punishment. My breaths became sharper as I thought of another session of suffocating on her pussy. Oh, no. Please, I couldn't bear that again.

"I'm gonna shtick out my tongue." I mumbled, trying to go for the safe choice, but still scared out of my mind.

"Yes, you are gonna do that. And when you fuck your face, you are going to wiggle that tongue with gusto. Also don't forget to take in my juices and **** on them nicely. I want to hear them little boy coughs as you struggle for air. And finally, you are going swallow my cum and clean my cunt afterwards." Mrs Scott said these words so sweetly, as if she was giving recommendations for the meal of the day in a down town restaurant.

"So what are you going to do?" Mrs Scott repeated happily.

"I... I am going tho wigggle my tongue... s-s-schoke on juicthes... sthruggle for air... shwallough your c-cum..." I felt like breaking down in tears again, as I pressed these words over my extended tongue.

"Good enough!" Mrs Scott chimed, and with a tightening of her grip she slowly pulled me towards her hungry mound, which was already dripping fluids hungrily onto the classroom floor like a slobbering hound.

I cringed back as my tongue made contact with her engorged lips, her scent still awfully strong and overwhelming, even though I should be getting used to it by now. Meanwhile Mrs Scott let out a content sigh, as shudders run through her whole body, which I could feel as waves of heat emanating from her crotch.

With me nestled snuggly between her lips, she began grinding her cunt on my face again, using my tongue, nose and chin for stimulation. Soon, the disgusting squelching and sloshing sounds were filling my ears again and the room beyond, as strands of tacky excretions connected my cheeks with her labia, which where spread over my face in her next grind.

I had a hard time synchronizing my breathing with her arbitrary rhythm, and found myself hacking almost immediately which only lead to more mistimed breaths.

"Good pussy boy..." Mrs Scott purred, as she held my struggling form against her snatch, ignoring the trembling fingers which pleadingly clawed at her thighs, before continuing her jerky fucking. Still, I kept my tongue straight, trying to wiggle it over her silky skin, even though it probably didn't make a difference in her wild grinding motions.

"I-I am close, boy..." Mrs Scott groaned above me, voice distorted by her passion and the smacking of her pussy lips on my face.

With a painful jerking motion she held my face less than an inch away from her pussy, just so that the tip of my sore tongue was still dipping into it. The fingers of her right hand replaced my stimulation, as they began flicking her clit furiously through the blanket of dripping hair.

"Open wide, boy... Oh, god, yes... open wide... tongue out... I'm going to drown you in my fucking cum... you are gonna be my little cum guzzler... on a cunt juice only diet... Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes, Yes..." Mrs Scott blustered into a sex-crazed talk, while increasing the speed of her masturbation, causing hot droplets of fluids to sprinkle over me.

With a hoarse outcry she slammed me a last time between her pulsating folds with such **** as if trying to fit me into her love canal. Her right hand had left the spot at her clit and now held me firmly against her propped up thigh to prevent any movement.

For a moment I found myself without oxygen again, feeling first hand the waves of her climax shudder through her body accompanied by waves of heat and sweeter tasting wetness. Then, with a sudden contraction of her pussy, a hot stream of salty watery liquid hit the back of my throat, making me cough violently. Mrs Scott was growling above me, digging her hands into my skull, keeping me tightly in place through my fit while she fed me her climax in short quick spurts.

Even without its forceful expulsion tickling my throat, the rate at which she shot her cum into my shrunken mouth was too rapid to consistently swallow the tangy liquid. With a low gurgle, excess fluid bubbled out of my mouth and nose, hitting the pink skin around me and splashing onto my face. I tried frantically to pull away, to wriggle my head out of her fire line, my screams dying in my throat, smothered by copious amount of Mrs Scott's cum.

To my surprise, she pulled me back enough for steamy air to hit my face, allowing me to cough up the hellish fluid in my lungs while the last two spurts of her climax hit my cheeks.

Mrs Scott herself was busy riding out her orgasmic high. As she stood above me, eyes closed gently with flushed rosy cheeks and a small smile adorning her voluptuous lips, she looked like a powerful sexy goddess to me. A sick part of me could forgive all the horrible inhumane things she had done to me in the last 30 minutes, if I could just witness the beauty of her blissed out form a bit longer. The gentle rise of her ample chest, like waves. The slight movements of her eyes below her eyelids and the twitching of the corners of her mouth, as she rode out the afterglow. The comforting warmth of her giant thigh on my cheek. Even the smell of her sex, the smell that now covered me inside and out, the smell that had dominated me in my state of existential panic. Even this heavenly scent consisting of complex notes of sweet and salty, was alluring to me right now, pulling me into her spell like a siren song.

It was sickening. Right down disgusting.

Mrs Scott would extend her high by wiping her twitching soggy sex over my abused face, renewing the glaze of her juices and making her hum in pleasure. I found myself tempted to stick out my tongue, scoop up the slimy richness that covered her sex and savour it in my mouth like aged wine.

I felt sick in the stomach at the thought. This wasn't right. Shit like this would give you a one-way ticket into a psychiatric ward. It betrayed everything I believed in. And still, this bodily allure I felt for my math teacher. For my ****. It was undeniable.

Mrs Scott's eyes opening and focusing on my confused form pulled me out of those thought loops.