Sweltings Academy Ch 15

***Harmony***

I stood outside Mr. Ash's door for half a moment. I resisted the impulse to collapse in a pile of misery on the floor in the hall. The only thing that stopped me from doing it was knowing that Coach Marshal could find me there. Unsuccessfully fighting sobs, I staggered blindly down the deserted halls of the school.

Mr. Ash had failed me. I knew what he was saying, that I wasn't wrong, but everything about me felt wrong. If he really knew what I had done... if Ty really knew what I had done, they would never forgive me. I wasn't sure I could forgive myself.

The night air drew me outside, and its coldness seemed crisp and clean. I took deep breaths, and as the tears on my face began to cool, some of the stress dissipated. I let go of everything and just let the air flow through me.

The air was mingled with a sense of Ty's presence, and gradually I realized that it was because he was standing in the shadows. The expression on his face was impossible to read. It was a waiting expression, like he wasn't sure who I was or what I wanted. I wanted to be near him. I just wanted his arms around me. It was the simplest feeling I could remember having in months. Without thinking, I went to him. His eyes were hesitant, but he drew me into a hug.

The familiar feeling of surrender washed over me, and I relaxed. And the I remembered. I stiffened in his arms. "Oh God, Ty... I don't deserve this. If you knew what I've done..."

He stroked the small of my back, but he didn't release me. I didn't have the strength to pull away. Not yet. Finally, he murmured, "Why don't you leave this place?"

I blinked. "I don't know."

"Harmony, you shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have to let him touch you. I know you don't want him to."

He tilted my chin up so he could look into my eyes when I didn't answer. Then he said, "Why did you leave with him tonight? There's no curfew, is there?"

The intensity of his eyes made it difficult to think. "I'm not sure if there's a curfew. I was afraid. That's why I left."

"What were you afraid of?"

I thought for a moment. At the time, I had made a split decision to avoid making a scene, but there was something else to it. To buy time, I stroked his cheek with my thumb and watched his eyes flutter closed. Then I realized what it was. "It was because I didn't want him to hurt you."

He laughed, an echo of his warmest laugh, but it was softened by the same emotion that was in his lidded eyes. "You do realize that I work out, right? And, seriously, he doesn't."

"I know. But there are other ways he could hurt you. Things he could tell you. Things I've done that I wish I could take back. Things that I would never do again if I could choose again. Things that would hurt you."

He blinked in surprise. Gently, he put his hand over mine and pressed his lips to my palm. "You care that much about me?"

Panic. Still more panic. Was this where I was supposed to pretend that I was uninterested so that he wouldn't think I was too easily attainable? If he didn't think that already, how unobservant was he? But this was different. This was about emotions, not sex. What if he didn't really care?

I wished desperately that I could make a quip to dissipate the tension in the air, anything to keep him from knowing how much he really meant to me. But I finally decided on the truth. "Yes."

He kissed me with a soul-deep kiss. I melted into him as he moved his lips on mine. The cold, firm bark of the tree behind me raised goosebumps on my skin. It was a healing kiss, one that brought the happiness and order I had buried to the surface. When he pulled back to look at me, I felt like myself, more myself than I had ever been in my life.

And I knew what I wanted, so I could let go of the past and stop punishing myself.

"Whatever you did," he said, "I can't promise it won't make me mad, but I don't want to lose you." He looked at me through troubled eyes. "Do you want me?" Then he blushed. "I mean, not in a sexual way. Unless you do."

I knew the look on my face must have been one of those cheesy, glowy looks people in love have, and I giggled. "I want you. I want you in every way." Then something occurred to me, and I blurted it out. "I want you more than I want anyone else." Even Mr. Ash. This was a crazy night.

He nodded, the look on his face becoming grim. "Then I am going to end that son of a bitch who treats you like trash. If I ever see him lay a finger on you again, he won't be able to blink without hurting."

Part of me wanted to let him fight my battle for me. It was the same impulse that had driven me to ask Mr. Ash to punish me. But the truth was, this was something I had to do myself. Coach Marshal had nearly destroyed me. I deserved to be the one who brought him down.

I kissed Ty gently. "You are incredibly sexy when you're protective."

The warmth of his smile lit up the night. "Yeah, I figured I would be. But I'm not bluffing."

"I know. But I've got an idea that might not get you landed in jail for assaulting a teacher."

***Coach Marshal***

There is nothing better than waking up to the warm wetness of a girl's mouth on my dick. At first I thought I was just dreaming about Harmony and the events of last night, but it wasn't long before I realized that I was experiencing the real deal. A warm body was between my legs, and a tongue was teasing my rapidly hardening rod.

I reached down to pat her head. "That's right," I said. "I knew you'd be back for more." Her sucking intensified, and I grunted. It wasn't just any girl who was this obsessed with cock. It had to be Harmony.

My alarm went off, and I slapped lazily at it. 5:30 AM. I had just enough time to fuck this girl unconscious before I had to keep Saturday detention. Then I could come back for more.

"You're not going anywhere today," I crooned as she continued her ministrations. "You're such a good little cocksucker, and when you get done, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk for the rest of the day."

A muffled moan escaped her, and a thrill went through me. I thought for the millionth time how hot it was that she got turned on by being treated like a slut.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that," I said. "Now get your mouth off my dick and spread your legs for me, whore."

Her voice was breathy and it came right next to my ear. "Let me be on top for a while," she said. "You go so deep inside me when I'm on top of you."

In the room's pitch blackness, I couldn't see her at all. I could smell her sweet scent and the feel the impression of her hair. Then she straddled me, her warm wetness tantalizingly close to my straining cock. It was like being seduced by a succubus and nothing but the cloaking blackness could have convinced me to let her take control. I reached up and instinctively found her dangling tits, which caused her to impale herself on my cock. Her tight, wet sheath around me was exquisite, and I found myself bucking against her writhing hips.

She was moaning and gasping, saying things that made me push harder against her. "God," she whimpered, "I don't know how you do this to me. It feels so good to be your slut. I wanted your cock so much that I had to take it right now. I couldn't wait any more."

I gave her tit a particularly hard twist, and she screamed my name as she orgasmed unexpectedly early. "That's right, whore," I growled as I continued to grind into her throbbing pussy. "I knew you couldn't get enough of me. You're cumming like a whore, and I'm going to use you like my slave. Whenever I want you, you're going to give me whatever I want."

"Yes," she gasped. "God, anything you say."

"Good," I grunted with one particularly hard thrust. Then I stopped. "Get the fuck off me," I said as I rolled her beneath me. I was enjoying this immensely and could have gone on for hours letting her degrade herself, but the clock was ticking.

Call me old-fashioned, but I really enjoy the missionary position. I get to plow in again and again, and every time I get to see the look on her face and the way her whole body shakes from the force of my thrusts. Except of course in this case where I couldn't see.

"Now, whore, your job is to be completely quiet while I fuck you until I get tired of it, okay? Think of it as training for later when I'm going to do you in more public places."

She whimpered, a whimper that meant she enjoyed it.

"Good girl," I said. "You're such a good little whore."

She thought I was going to fuck her. Instead, I reached between her legs and began massaging her clit with my thumb. A sharp intake of breath and a sudden clenching of her legs told me that she liked it. I buried two fingers in her cunt, and she bucked her hips forward. I could feel the muscles of her pussy tighten around my fingers, greedy for the stimulation I was giving her. I began to work my fingers in and out of her, my heartbeat increasing with the intensity of her thrashing on the bed. I added a third finger and she began panting in a fiercely erotic way. When I finally took my fingers out of her, I had worked up to a speed and roughness I rarely reach. Then I put her legs over my shoulders and started ramming into her as hard as I could.

She started whimpering and moaning softly, and I found myself grunting in time with my thrusts, "Bad girl. You can't be quiet. You like it too much. I'll just have to fuck you harder." The slap of my skin against hers was louder than her voice, but I knew calling her out on her disobedience was necessary, and her body tightened in response.

Then I pushed a pillow under her ass, and the new angle had her deliriously and constantly gasping, "Fuck yes" over and over again.

Then her whole body tightened, and moments later, she relaxed. I thrust into her spent body twice more before blowing my load into her slippery cunt.

She was breathing in soft, even breaths, and I murmured in her ear, "You were such a good little slut that I'm going to excuse you from class today. Just stay here for when I get back. I have more plans for you."

"Yes, sir," she said. "I'll be right here thinking about what you're going to do to me."

In twenty minutes, I walked into detention. My heart stopped beating and my mouth went dry. There, in her usual seat, was Harmony Adair, staring hollowly at me. With a gulp, I realized who was missing from detention because she was in my bed--Aubrey Fenton.