Middle-aged professor is forced to endure service top role, blackmailed by three power bottom college students, who are crazily into humiliating sex.
You don't usually see bullies in college. I mean, occasionally, sure. But not the type you would see in high school. Not the prevalent, physically intimidating ones. My strong feeling that this was something that should never be allowed or present at my university pushed me to make the biggest mistake of my life: the attempt to protect my students from an organized bunch of such assholes.
I should have swallowed my pride and sense of morality, be just like all the other units who simply allowed them to do whatever they wanted. But that I learned only with time perspective.
It was the fifth week of my torment already. Today, they came after me again. When the classroom emptied, three laughing students, who have been extremely loud during my entire lecture, approached my desk. On their young, handsome faces I could see nothing but confidence, turned into the most cruel arrogance. All of them have been privileged, boys from good houses, pampered their whole lives and taught that the world is there for their amusement.
"Hello, professor..." said one of them, grabbing my tie and pulling me towards himself, while I was sitting on my chair. "I missed you..." Forced to look up, I realized that it was Ahmed, an Arab with thick, elegant beard. He was just like any of them: handsome, destined for success, but not one requiring hard work. It would be given to him on a silver plate.
"Not here," I barked, pushing his hand away aggressively, even though one of them made sure to close the door of my classroom.
I noticed a flash of anger on his face, quickly hidden under another confident smirk. He patiently grabbed my tie again, pulled me towards himself, lowered his face and leaned over to whisper something into my ear.
"Do you really wish to anger me, professor?" he asked and then licked the entrance to my ear.
I backed my head away and looked away. This question touched my core, forcing me to consider if I really wanted that. Only after a few seconds, I knew the answer.
"No, Sir. I apologize for my misbehavior," I said, humiliated and unable to face their gazes.
It stung me when they all laughed with satisfaction. I've had to give myself up to them so many times last month and yet it never got old for them. I could always see the fresh adrenaline rush on their sadistic faces, when they managed to force me to do something embarrassing. I knew they would never get bored of tormenting me, unless I would finally give up, like for real. But I wasn't at that point yet. Every ounce of my body was calling me to rebel against them. I was sure I could physically overwhelm any of these silly eighteen year old boys. But my rational brain was stopping me every time.
"Alright, professor. It's time for you to fulfill your duty," said Ahmed, starting to unbuckle his pants. "Durpan, be a dear and help our professor out."
The other bully of mine, an Indian boy with curly hair and cute face, without asking for permission, confidently pulled down my zipper. I felt his warm fingers touching my cock through boxers, curiously wandering across my dick. I looked at him and our eyes met. I could tell he was new at this, because there was some shyness in his gaze. But I also recognized a desire. Even if he was still capable of using his moral compass, he craved me, and my helplessness was a perfect opportunity to explore this, for his own pleasure.
"Look at that hard cock," spoke the third bully of mine. His name was Jay, he was a Caucasian boy and similarly to Durpan, he had dark, curly hair. He was the worst of them all, always enjoying violence and filth. I would call him my archnemesis, as he was the one I made an open move against these five weeks ago, stopping him from threatening a student. Now I was paying a high price for standing in his way. "Next time drop the act of a fucking martyr. It's clear that you're enjoying yourself."
I couldn't really argue with facts. My dick was rock hard for them and it wasn't the first time. They already knew that even though I might not want to cooperate, my dick is their loyal bitch.
Everything I achieved in life required an incredible amount of work and effort from me. I was 35 years old, content, stable and respected, but here I was. Dominated by three young adults who were given everything they have for free. I was incapable of ignoring the excitement that this utter humiliation brought me. And that feeling was present each time they requested sex.
"There's nothing wrong about him behind hard," assured Ahmed. "I would be, too, if I was in his place. He already knows how badly we treat him and he wants so much more of it... can you blame him?"
Ahmed pulled his trousers down and then turned to face me. He lifted his leg and placed his socked foot on my armrest, pushing my hand off of it. The sight of his beautiful, muscled calf, thigh and a knee, so hairy, tanned and well-defined, with accompaniment of manly musk coming from his crotch, made my dick helplessly twitch in excitement. He climbed on me and pressed himself against my chest. His warmth, closeness and scent of his perfume made this immediately intimate.
But they already trained me how I should act when they do this to me. I should try not to move and under no circumstances I'm allowed to touch them without their clear instruction. I was reduced to an object; realistic breathing sex toy.
"Okay, Durpan. Get us ready," he instructed his friend.
Durpan grabbed my dick and smeared cold lube on it. Ahmed's ass was treated much better; Durpan made sure to warm up the lube before he ran the two of his fingers across his colleague's crack.
"Alright. Are you ready,
my
professor?" he teased me.
"Yes, Sir," I assured him hastily, hungry for the sensation awaiting me.
He backed off to create space between us, so that I could take a better look. Durpan guided my fat meat rod towards Ahmed's dark, hairy hole and Ahmed lowered himself, applying pressure to my cock head. After a bit of initial struggle, his spinster gave up and let my dick in. The sweet tightness of his hole lead my cock deeper into him. I started breathing loudly, as he began lowering himself. My meat disappeared between his hairy butt cheeks, and now I could only feel it, being imprisoned in his warm hole...
Our eyes met. What an incredible moment of intimacy it was between us. Both of us were vulnerable in a way. Him, because he let me in, me, because he was in full control of me. With a quiet moan of pleasure, he started fucking himself with me, while I've had to sit there idly, not moving an inch, presenting my helplessness and proving their full control of me.
I groaned in shame, as it felt amazing. My cock was in heaven, and through it, my brain was, too. As per usual, at this point Jay decided to join in. He started unbuttoning my shirt. I watched his clumsy fingers doing this, barely recording anything with my mind, as the blissful fog of lust and pleasure was blinding me, making me not care what was going to happen anymore.
Jay opened my shirt and ran his fingers through the thick dark hair on my pecs. He lowered his face and took a whiff of my chest, then kissed it in three different places. And then he looked me straight in the eyes and I knew that this is not going to end as nice as it started.
He pinched my dark nipple with the tips of his fingers, squeezing it and later even twisting. I groaned in pain but didn't even think of actually stopping him. The pain somehow mixed with the pleasure flooding my brain, making both ends of this spectrum brighter and more powerful.
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with sensations. Someone locked their lips with me, blocking a way out for my breath. I obediently accepted the wet tongue invading my mouth, even though it tasted like cigarettes. Horny and defeated by my own lust, I licked it, too, forced by my dick to prove that I'm a fully willing slut.
The pleasure gathering in my dick was almost about to explode. As it was expected of me, I've had to let my brain wake up from the bliss and sabotage itself:
"Master, I'm about to cum," I informed. The two of them laughed. Only now I noticed that Jay stopped touching me and was now recording me with a phone. He did this so many times, gathering so much blackmail material on me, that I truly didn't care anymore. I became their bitch with the first video they took of me. Now it was just a number.
Ahmed stopped milking me, frozen in a semi-squat, clearly satisfied with the fact that he brought me to edge so quickly. I clenched my teeth, tortured, feeling how my pleasure backs away, sinks back into my cock. I sighed helplessly and took a second admiring his strong, well-trained legs. I would love to be able to kiss them, to worship them the way they deserve it. But it would require of me to tell him that, to ask for permission, to officially admit that I'm participating willingly to an extent. I didn't want to do that.
As for his stamina, I already experienced it in the past. Once he was able to edge me for two long hours. He made me do unspeakable things just to reach that long-awaited orgasm. Even the new me, stripped of dignity, remembers this day with shame.
"Is your dick calm again, professor? Can I continue?" he asked.
"It's still very strongly on the edge..."
His hand was pressed against my sweaty, hairy pec. I bet he could feel my racing heart.
"Then allow me to help you..."
Ahmed released my cock from the depths of his ass. I almost cried in protest. I didn't want him to leave, I needed his tight hole wrapped around my meat.
I looked down. My dick was all red and veiny, throbbing with excitement, oozing precum, begging to be held in someone's warm bun again. His asshole was gaping, hairy crack was glistening with slime of the lube and sweat combined. God, what would I give to have this ass crush my face right now...
