Upside Down

Tokyo, Japan, Kurosawa High school. One of the most big yet twisted school, but it wasn't some kind a nice place either. You call me Tatsuya, one of the most feared delinquents in this shithole. In here, people's students who had power, either from their parents or themselves stood in proud and they who don't, I don't know... Either you kneel or get eaten alive. But for me... I don't give a fuck about any of that. This school is rotten to its core. That's why I'm taking everything I can get my hands on.

Especially her.

Aomi Hayashida, the student council president. A perfect, untouchable, beautiful honor student with the kind of face that made teachers sigh in relief and boys jerk off in the bathroom stalls. Long, silky black hair, legs that went on for miles, and tits that strained against her prim uniform blouse. The kind of girl who never even looked my way—until she had

[to.

It](http://to.It) started simple. I caught her in the library after hours, alone, bent over some textbook like the good little bitch she was. Except she wasn’t studying. She was palming herself through her skirt, biting her lip, glasses fogged up from her heavy breaths. I stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching her fingers press harder, her hips rocking just slightly—until she turned and saw me.

Her face went pale. Then red. Then furious.

"You—you can't be here!" Her voice was sharp, but shaky.

I grinned. "Neither can you, Prez."

She straightened up fast, smoothing her skirt like that would erase what I'd just seen. But I already had her. The moment she tried to storm past me, I caught her wrist, pulling her close enough to feel her racing heartbeat. "What were you doing, huh?" I murmured against her ear, enjoying how her breath hitched. "Getting off thinking about someone? Some teacher? Or…" I dragged my thumb over her lower lip. "Maybe it was me?"

She jerked back like I’d burned her. "Don't be disgusting!"

I laughed. "Disgusting? You're the one rubbing yourself in public."

"It wasn’t—I wasn’t—!"

I pulled out my phone, flipping to the video I'd just taken. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw herself, fingers slipping beneath her panties, mouth open in silent pleasure.

"You..." Her voice cracked.

"Yeah. Me." I tucked the phone away. "So here’s how this works. You do what I say, when I say it. Or this goes to the whole school. Your teachers. Your parents. Everyone."

She looked like she wanted to kill me. But beneath that? I saw it—the fear. The shame. And something else.

Something hot.

"You're sick," she hissed.

I smirked. "And you're wet."

Her face burned, but she didn’t deny it.

That was the first time.

The first of many.

——

The next day, I texted her before class.

Storage closet. Third floor. Now.

She showed up five minutes late, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists.

"You took your time," I said, leaning against the shelves.

"I had homeroom," she snapped.

I didn’t care. I grabbed her by the waist, shoving her against the wall. She gasped, but didn’t fight when I yanked her skirt up, fingers digging into her thighs.

"No panties?" I chuckled darkly. "Eager, Prez?"

She turned her face away, but her thighs trembled when I traced a finger over her slit, already slick. "Fuck," I muttered, pressing two fingers inside without warning. She choked on a moan, hips jerking. "Look at you. Tight as fuck." I crooked my fingers, watching her bite her lip to keep quiet. "You thought about this, huh? Me fucking you in some dirty closet?"

She didn’t answer, but her cunt clenched around my fingers, dripping onto the floor.

I pulled my hand away, ignoring her frustrated whimper, and undid my belt. "On your knees."

Her eyes flicked to mine, defiant for a second—until I pulled out my phone.

She dropped to her knees.

I shoved my cock into her mouth without warning, groaning at the heat of her throat. "Suck," I ordered, gripping her hair.

And she did.

Her tongue swirled around the head, her lips stretching tight as I fucked deeper, watching tears well in her eyes. She gagged, spit dripping down her chin, but didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

I pulled out just to slap my cock against her cheek, leaving a wet streak. "Say you want it."

Her voice was wrecked. "I... I want it."

I laughed, shoving back in. "Damn right you do."

——

It didn’t stop there.

Every day, I found new ways to break her.

In the empty gym after school, bent over the vaulting horse while I pounded into her from behind, her tits bouncing with every thrust.

Behind the school gates at night, her uniform shoved up around her waist as I fucked her against the brick wall, her nails digging into my shoulders.

Even in the student council office, her ass planted on her own desk, legs spread wide as I ate her out until she screamed, muffling her cries with her own hand.

She hated me.

But her body didn’t.

And that was enough.

——

The final straw came a month later.

I had her in the janitor’s closet, her back pressed against the mop sink, my hand fisted in her hair as I fucked her raw. She was sobbing by then, her thighs slick with her own arousal, her voice hoarse from begging.

"P-please... I can't...!"

"You can," I growled, slamming deeper. "You love this. Love being my slut."

She shook her head, but her cunt clenched around me, milking my cock like she didn’t want me to leave.

I came inside her with a groan, watching her face twist in shameful pleasure as she followed, her body shuddering against mine.

After, as she slumped against the sink, trembling, I tucked myself away and pulled out my phone.

She froze when she saw the screen—dozens of photos, videos, every filthy moment we’d shared.

"You..." Her voice was hollow.

I smirked. "You really thought I’d delete them?"

Her eyes widened in horror.

I leaned in, biting her earlobe. "This doesn’t end until I say it does."

And it didn’t.

Because Aomi Hayashida wasn’t the student council president anymore.

She was mine.

And I wasn’t letting go.