A Class Of Her Own

Rachel knew that her carelessness would be her undoing - it always was, and had been at several previous schools; her inability to keep her legs closed and dress conservatively. And why should she after all? She was 27 and gorgeous; slim, full-figured, with beautiful round breasts and a firm backside, her eyes blue and her hair naturally blonde and accented only a little with highlights. So what if she wore skirts above the knee, or sheer white silk blouses that showed off the lacy black bra underneath? So what if she wore make-up, that men desired her? This was the 21st century, and she was not a nun.

Sometimes it had been affairs with staff, sometimes with ex-pupils - never any underage, always consensual, never a current pupil - she did not want to be arrested - but there had always been enough of a doubt that other teachers had talked, given her suspicious glances, headmasters or mistresses had told her that they were having to make economies, that her contract would not be renewed. They would give her a good reference of course, but...

After a while, no matter what the references were like, her CV had begun to speak for itself - too many moves, too many enforced departures - it had become abundantly clear to any head teacher reading it that she was trouble. The pool of jobs had started to shrink. Finally she had ended up at Greenward, a London inner city sink school only one Ofsted report away from Special Measures. That being the case, she really should have been more careful what she did with her laptop, and leaving it in her English remedial class was just asking for trouble, really. These were not even boys - they were young men, 18 year-olds, who the government had decided in their infinite wisdom could not finish formal schooling until they had gained a pass in both GCSE Maths and English. There was little chance of that, and so they had been kept on, resentful, after they had failed their exams at age 16, and again at 17, and now they were going to fail them again at age 18...

It wasn't until lunchtime that she missed her laptop. Her body went cold as she tried to mentally retrace her steps that morning. By the time she flew, flustered and red-faced, into the classroom where she had left it, there was nothing but a handful of smirking 18-year old young black men lounging around, tall, long-limbed, powerful and arrogant. There was a faint smell of weed in the air.

"Wassup Miss? You lost somethin?" grinned Errol Walker, the tallest and most 'alpha male' of the boys.

"I... I think I left my computer here," Rachel said. "Did anyone see it?"

"Was it the one with all the bondage porn on it?" Errol asked innocently. "Nah, I don't think I seen that."

"Maybe someone gonna hand it in to the head, though, is it?" said Jason Yakubu, Errol's best friend and a thin, rangy youth.

"Please, Errol, Jason," she stammered desperately, feeling a terrible sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Just give it back to me and we'll say no more about it, I promise." She tried to think what had been on there... Rachel's porn collection was extensive and occupied more than the 120GB that her laptop could contain, so there were only ever a few choice items on there, although her collection of stories was no doubt there in full, and they only needed to open Chrome to find the bookmarks to sites she didn't even want to think about right now.

"Is you a kinky bitch, then Miss?" asked Jason. "You really like all that stuff? That is well wicked!"

"I'm not going to discuss this," she said firmly. "You will hand it over, or I am going to go to the police."

"I don't think so though," said Errol, confidently. "Cause then they might find out you been bringing a computer to school with all your nasty filth on it, innit? You be like arrested an all for corrupting us an shit. But maybe..." he tried to look cool, "maybe there's a way you might get it back..."

Rachel knew full well what was coming next. She flushed with embarrassment, but there was also a part of her that was finding this situation quite a turn-on.

"Go on," she said quietly.

"You is gonna do all of the dirty things that is on them videos, Miss," Errol told her, "only you is gonna do them for us, for real."

Rachel closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath, her mind racing. She was trapped and she knew it. This time there would be no dismissal, no references, nothing to protect her from the tabloids, the police. She would be looking at jail time, and an end to her teaching career. To her life. There was only one choice to make.

"Very well," she sighed. "When?"

The boys roared with approval and high-fived each other, looking as though they couldn't believe that that had worked.

"Booom!" shouted Jason, elated.

"She is getting off on this!" shouted Robert, a shorter, stockier youth, laughing. "Look at her nips!" There was some appreciative attention paid to her nipples, erect and poking through the fabric of her bra and blouse.

"Miss, you is well skanky," Errol told her sorrowfully. "This weekend. Friday night probably. We let you know, allright?"

"All right," she said. She walked from the classroom in a daze.

---

The rest of the week passed in a kind of delirium. Rachel found it almost impossible to concentrate on anything except what was awaiting her on Friday night. She was distracted in classes, and actually had to head to the toilets to throw up in nervousness a few times, and yet the thought of being at the mercy of a gang of 18 year-old boys was also a powerfully erotic one. She found herself watching violent gangbang videos in the evenings, imagining herself in the place of the porn star and letting her hand slip inside her panties and frig herself to orgasm after orgasm. They would probably not be considerate, she knew. One of the problems with today's youth was that they had grown up learning about sex from watching porn videos, and so viewed them as instruction manuals, as normal, not exceptional, as just the way sex was. Yet that thought turned her on even more. She would be given no choice but to submit to every deviant thing they could imagine, or rather, had seen, and she knew that her laptop had some pretty strong stuff on it.

The note was in her bag on Thursday. It said "Friday night, 9 o clock." It gave an address in some derelict flats that were part of a regeneration project, and said; "dress all sex, stockins and all that, and bring you gear."

Friday she had been as nervous as a kitten all day, her classes disjointed and her students bored. As the time slowly crept across the face of the school clocks, she knew that she was another hour closer to her appointment with the boys. Thankfully she hadn't had to take a class with them that day, as she wasn't sure she would have been able to face them.

Finally the day reached its interminable conclusion. Rachel begged off after-school duties and scurried home early to change.

The outfit she selected was a pornographic parody of her daytime teacher wardrobe; a dark blue jacket and pencil skirt, but the skirt was scandalously short for school wear - it barely came halfway down her thighs, and would show her stocking tops when she walked. Her blouse was thin and sheer, and her lacy black bra was clearly visible under it. Seamed stockings and a suspender belt and matching lacy black knickers were de rigeur of course, and she wore a pair of impossibly high shiny black stilettos to set it off. She minimised the jewellery, reasoning it might get torn off or go missing in what was to ensue, and overdid the make-up - long false lashes, bright red nail polish and lipstick, and plenty of gloss.

Walking out to her car she felt like a complete slut, but then, that was the point of course. She drove to the appointed location and stopped. The derelict flats looked dark, but she thought she could see light flickering from one of the windows. They had been fenced off by hoardings which advertised the regeneration project, but a gap had been created at one corner, and Rachel was able to creep through it. She buried her car keys and mobile phone under a brick, just in case things got really out of hand, and walked unsteadily across the dark, broken ground towards the flats.

She was worried that someone not in on the deal would attack her in the darkness, but there was no-one about until she got to the entrance to the flats. There was a black youth she didn't recognise leaning against a concrete wall - a lookout, she presumed. He looked her up and down in the dim light filtering in from the street.

"Nice," he said. "Go up, 2nd floor. Door's open."

She nodded and clacked her way up the concrete, urine-smelling steps, arriving on a balcony on the second floor. There was a row of front doors leading to the flats on this level. All of them were padlocked, all of the windows covered with metal shutters, but one door stood open. There was a dim, flickering light visible from within, and sounds of quiet talking. She took a deep breath - this was it - and walked slowly to the doorway.

Inside, in a room lit by candlelight, five youths, including Errol, Jason and Robert, were lounging around, passing around a joint. Full and empty cans of beer lay about. There was no furniture - only a shabby, stained and threadbare carpet. Above the sticky sweet scent of the dope, the room smelt musty and stale. Aside from the candles, there were no lights, even the fittings had been ripped out, but over to one side, a laptop - her laptop, Rachel realised - was switched on, throwing a bluish light across the dim room. There was a porn video paused on it, and she recognised it immediately; one of Rachel's favourites. Sex & Submission. A young woman in a skirt suit was in a dingy building, at the mercy of five large black men. She understood - this was the master plot line for tonight. She had even - accidentally? - dressed in a similar way, although she was blonde and not a redhead.

The boys grinned ferally as she stepped into the shabby flat. There was no preamble; as soon as she stepped inside the front room, the door was slammed closed behind her, someone pressed play, and the figures on the screen burst into life. At the same time one of the boys moved around behind her, just as one of the assailants was doing to the actress on the screen, and grabbed her arms from behind, pinning them to her sides. Another joined him. Now they had an arm each, and with their free hands were pulling at her jacket, at her blouse. They kept on glancing at the screen, where the sounds of the actress' protests were issuing from the tinny speakers, choreographing their movements in time with the men in the film. Rachel however made no sound, no protest. They clustered around her, grabbing at her, rough fingers grabbed her breasts, kneaded them through the thin material of her blouse and bra. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist, revealing her tiny panties and stockings tops and suspenders. There was a palpable, animal excitement to the young men, and Rachel found herself overcome with their imposing physical presence and eagerness. Being pulled and pushed this way and that, her blouse torn open, shedding buttons across the carpet, her bra pulled down to let her breasts free, being groped, fondled, with no ability to alter what was happening to her was overwhelming, erotic, frightening and kinky in equal measure, and she felt herself surrendering to the moment, her pussy moistening. They had trouble with her panties, yanking at them frenziedly, the material digging into her hips and even pussy briefly before it tore, dragging the first cry from her. She looked about her, wild-eyed. Big black hands were rubbing her thighs, her pussy lips, feeling her slickness, and leading to animal shouts of approval.

"She wet, man!" shouted one of them, probably Robert.

A strong hand grabbed her hair and dragged her head down towards his crotch. "Suck my dick, teach," Errol told her. His flies were undone and his semi-hard erection was sticking out of his jeans. Rachel moaned and obediently opened her lips, letting him push the tip inside her mouth, tasting sweat and stale urine. She might have known he wouldn't have bothered showering for this... He pushed himself further, and as his cock stiffened she felt it bump at the back of her throat and she gagged involuntarily.

Another positioned himself behind her, grabbing her hips and butting at her a couple of times with his hard cock until the tip found her wet, slippery hole and slid inside. He pushed his hips forward, burying his length within her, and Rachel groaned around the cock in her mouth as she felt herself stretch to accommodate her student. He smacked her bottom, sending little stings of pain and reddening her ass as he began to buck backwards and forwards. "I'm fucking Miss Henderson!" Jason shouted with glee. There was laughter and high-fives all around.

"Fucking slut," one of them sneered dismissively. Rachel flushed with embarrassment at being called such names, but it also sent a powerful erotic charge through her, and she whimpered around Errol's cock as he began to force it deeper, pushing it into her throat, forcing her to accommodate him. She was gagging and choking around it now, saliva bubbling across her painted red lips and dribbling down her chin as it contacted the young man's hairy black balls. Bent over in her stockings and heels, skirt around her waist and with her breasts spilling from her bra and flapping open blouse, a cock roughly thrusting in both her mouth and her pussy, Rachel was in heaven. More spanks landed on her arse, her breasts, her thighs, slapped her face, but it only added to the sensation of being completely overwhelmed. She noticed that someone had moved to one side of her, grabbing at her breasts, pulling the jacket and blouse from her, while another hovered around Errol, impatiently.

"My turn, man," he demanded. "They changed over on the movie, look." On-screen, the man fucking the girl's face had changed, and it seemed they were still sticking to the choreography. Reluctantly, Errol let his cock slip from Rachel's mouth, trailing a long strand of saliva, and a new cock was presented for her to suck, which she did so avidly. He too was soon forcing her to deep throat him, little 'glugs' issuing from her in tandem with the ravished girl on the screen. Firm hands appeared at the back of her head, twisting into her hair, forcing her face down onto his cock as he fucked her face.

"You look real pretty Miss," Errol said. "Smile for the camera, yeah?" From the corner of her tear-stained eye she noticed with a sinking feeling that he had his phone out and was filming her. She felt utterly low and wretched, but also completely stimulated - she was the centre of attention of five horny guys, all of whom wanted to fuck the shit out of her. The boys changed again, now cocks replacing the ones in her mouth and pussy, but one of those who had pulled out of her grabbed her hand and guided it to his dripping cock, and she grasped it firmly and began pulling at it, hearing him sigh with pleasure. This set-up continued for a little while until the one behind her began to buck more wildly, his pants and grunts coming faster and faster until he suddenly held her hips tightly and drove himself in to the hilt, and she could feel the pulsing of his cock as he came inside her. There were no condoms here, she belatedly, foolishly realised.

"Ah man, you come?" one of them asked. "You not supposed to come yet, bro."

"I'm not a fuckin porn star, man..." the other protested weakly.

Rachel could feel his come begin to trickle from her, down her thighs. In front of her, Robert - she now realised whose cock she had been throating - pulled from her, giving her some time to gasp for breath as a roll of tape was produced from somewhere and her hands were pulled behind her back and taped together. Then she was forced down onto her knees on the floor, and the face-fucking began again in earnest. Now they formed a circle around her and she would be roughly jerked off one cock and onto another, alternating between four of them, simply a blur of hard black cocks and strong black hands. Without her hands, Rachel was now completely helpless, simply an open mouth for them to use as a masturbatory tool, stuffing their cocks one after another into her drooling, gasping mouth, pausing only to slap her face again and again. In a corner, the one who had come already nursed his softened cock back towards erection as he watched them. One of the four let loose a groan and suddenly felt hot wet spurts across her face and in her hair, thick, sticky white semen rolling down her face and neck and dripping onto her exposed breasts, joining the drool and spit already gathering there. She had her mouth pulled off one cock so that she could clean this one, slurping up the remains of the spunk oozing from the end of his cock, letting it roll over her lips.

"I need a piss man," one said. "Where the toilet?"

"It don't work bro," Errol replied. "They cut off the water, innit?" Then a big grin split his face. "I bet you could use Miss H though..."

There was renewed excitement at this as she was positioned in the centre of the room, still on her knees, and the desperate youth aimed his cock straight at her mouth. Rachel groaned at her own degradation, but did not move.

"You better open wide, Miss," Errol told her. "Or no laptop, you get me?"

Rachel looked miserably up at them, defeated, but obediently opened her mouth. Almost immediately a torrent of piss burst forth from the cock in front of her filling her mouth. She let her mouth fill until it was pouring over her lips, then closed her mouth and swallowed reflexively, grimacing at the warm, brackish taste. While her mouth was closed her face was hosed down, washing the come from it, and she closed her eyes in misery as he spent some time pissing on her long blonde hair, plastering it to her skull, before returning to her mouth, which she obediently opened again to take another mouthful of urine, and another. And another, gulping them down. Warm piss flowed over her, setting in a pool on the floor as the boys watched in horrified fascination.

"Ohhhhhh! That's nasty!"

"You are a skanky bitch, Miss!"

Once again the phone camera captured every humiliating moment.

Finally he was done. The men were slightly leery of touching her now, and one took her discarded jacket and blouse and wiped her down with it, mopping up the pool of piss on the floor around her with it, before they went back to stuffing hard cocks in her face again. Now she was pulled over onto hands and knees and Jason got behind her, fucking her for a while before pulling out. Now Rachel could feel his slimy cock pushing at the little brown asterisk of her anus, and she groaned again, realising what was to come only a split second before a hard thrust and an agonised wrenching sensation announced his passage into her asshole. She cried out, but the sound was lost in a gargling "glah! glah!" sound as her throat was assaulted again. The hard, hot, throbbing log tunnelled deep into her sensitive little ass. She had used dildos on herself before, but nothing compared to the sensation of having a hard cock ream her there. The pain soon faded, and Rachel found herself almost enjoying the feeling of being filled - far more so than vaginal sex.

"She got a tight little ass!" Jason declared, pitching backwards and forwards, his own panting gathering pace as he fucked her tight hole, starting to reach a crescendo as he finally let loose a long "ahhhhhhh!" of satisfaction and Rachel felt the warm, spreading sensation of him spurting come deep into her bowels. He pulled free with a sticky plop and proffered her the soiled cock to lick. Rachel didn't want to think about where it had been, but found herself obediently opening wide to suck him clean, to more cries of "Whore!" and "Ooh! She a nasty bitch!" from the men.