The Janitor Who Was Ing

Please read prior chapters to learn more about Cheryl Thomson, an innocent wife and mother who became a teacher in the deep south. Her life is expanding into new ways thanks to The Janitor Who Was King.

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It has been several weeks since the events of Chapter 3 [

read chapter 1 through 3 of The Janitor Who Was King for background]

and Claude Thomson was in the process of reviewing the financial reports of C.T. Conglomerate, his holding company. He also reviewed the tracking of employees and other information. He was delighted to learn that Rob Thomson spent nearly every waking moment working, mostly out-of-state, and was neither at home to comfort his wife Cheryl physically nor emotionally. This delighted Claude to no end, but he wanted to break through another layer of Cheryl's moral compass and had several plans to do so.

Firstly, the income reduction Claude put on both Rob and Cheryl will begin to cause strains for their children's college tuition. The income Cheryl was now making in no way compensates for Rob's loss. On top of that, Rob's financial loss was Claude's financial gain as C.T. Conglomerate received much of the fruits of Rob's labor. Claude's eyes popped open a bit upon reading two bits of information: Firstly, Cheryl Thomson's children both attended one of the state colleges where he had operatives and secondly, there was a new prime candidate from "Online Academy of Education" [see Chapter 1].

Claude picked up the phone and called one of his staff at the college, "Mujakbe," said Claude, "how are things?"

"Sèvitè ou a, wa m 'lan," came the answer [translation, "Your humble servant, my king"].

"Have you performed the tasks asked of you?" inquired Claude of Majakbe.

Majakbe answered excitedly, "Yes, my king," and described in detail, "we've ensured Lisa Thomson has her own private shower and bathroom from which we've accumulated hair and saliva, in addition to bodily waste should you require it."

"Please have someone deliver to me within three hours," said Claude in a calm voice, hiding how pleased he was at the progress. "Also, as long as I get the items at once, you may take all staff and their families someplace nice for the weekend, my treat."

"Yes my king!!" exclaimed Majakbe exuberantly, "at once!!"

Claude smiled. He knew he would now probably have the samples within the hour and he looked forward to the prompt, disciplined, response to his request. Now, on to the next order of business.

Another prime student had just completed the "Online Academy of Education" and the instructors informed Claude of the attributes of the student. Claude took the folder out with the pictures of the new graduate as well as found the DVD of the "sample teaching" of her class.

"Oh how I love these online formats of guided instruction where the teacher films how they would teach a class...,"

thought Claude as he first reviewed the notes, and then put the DVD produced by the student for their class submission into his computer.

The screen showed a brunette woman seated behind a desk with a chalkboard behind her. She began, "Sound check, sound check, 1, 2, 3..." and her eyes looked expectantly at the cameraman, and she nodded as if receiving a thumbs up. Claude watched as she introduced herself, "Hello class," she began, "my name is Mrs. Carter, no relation to the former president, and I am your new teacher." Claude watched as she sat at her desk and went through the class plan, then she stood and began to write on the board.

Claude reviewed the file again. Kristin Carter, 43, married, with a nineteen year old daughter who attended the same college as Lisa and John Thomson.

"Ah-ha,"

thought Claude,

"now I see one of the reasons the staff thinks she's a prime candidate."

When Claude looked at the screen again and saw Mrs. Carter's ass as she faced the chalkboard, he found another good reason she's a prime candidate. When Mrs. Carter turned away from the chalkboard and to the class and revealed how she had nice, firm, full breasts straining against her "teaching uniform" issued at the school, he found yet another reason for her candidacy.

Claude read her file deeper. It seems Mrs. Carter is an Evangelical Christian woman. She even started a bible study group at the online school for her classmates which they performed live via webcast. Ok, now food preferences, she is not a coffee drinker but she does like her aloe drinks. Claude smiled to himself,

"I have just the thing,"

he thought.

Claude picked up the phone and dialed Mr. White, the principal.

"Hello Claude," said Mr. White having read the caller ID on the phone before picking up, "what can I do for you?"

"Steven," Claude called Mr. White by his first name in private, "there is a new candidate from our 'Online Academy' in need of an appealing offer letter," started Claude, "I believe we need to give Mrs. Thomson a slight rest, before we twist her mind still further."

Mr. White responded eagerly, "Yes, Claude, I'm pulling up Mrs. Carter's information right now," reviewing Mrs. Carter's photographs and a brief pause ensued, "yes, I see what makes her so appealing." Then a longer pause before asking, a bit nervously, "Are you sure we're ready to take on an Evangelical Christian to our group?"

Claude giggled, answering, "There is much untapped power seeking to be exploited in these followers of false prophet who man has named a god. Get to work on this at once."

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Cheryl Thomson parked her car in her usual spot near Claude Johnston's office. She got up and out of her car and slumped against it, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was thinking of her prior few weeks since she began teaching at Sherman High School in Potoxy, GA. From the perversion of the cum-cream in her coffee, to the being what was supposed to be an innocent innocuous escort, to the now-daily whoring herself out during her lunch hours performing paizuri in addition to the occasional oral sex, she felt her life to be in shambles.

"How is it that I've fallen so far, so fast,"

thought Cheryl,

"and Rob being gone all of the time is making it incredibly lonely at home too..."

Cheryl heard the familiar footsteps of Claude Johnston, or rather, Master Johnston approaching. She tried to dry the tears from her face when she heard him speak.

"Mrs. Thomson," said Claude in a cheerful voice, "is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes, Master Johnston," said Cheryl meekly, still wiping away the tears but no longer crying.

Claude smiled, and said nicely to Cheryl, "Mrs. Thomson," he said in a gentle voice, "I know things have been difficult, but I am working on some new things," he explained. "Today," he continued, "please come to my office instead of your bathroom stall number four," he directed.

"As you wish Master Johnston," replied Cheryl, worried about the meeting, but heading to her class.

Just as Cheryl was turning away, Claude called out to her, "On second thought Mrs. Thomson," he explained, "please come by my office with me right now for a moment, and then we'll have a longer discussion mid-day."

Cheryl followed Claude nervously into his office. He went behind his large, oaken desk, and sat down on his elaborate leather chair of which Cheryl was amazed a janitor had such an immaculate chair, but then contemplated his "other" business ventures and understood. Claude motioned with his hand for Cheryl to sit in the plain chair opposite his desk, and he sat there calmly looking at Cheryl.

Claude then spoke, "Cheryl, you are one of my top performers in a very short period of time," he said grinning broadly. "I want to give you an opportunity to advance," he said in a luring tone, which frightened Cheryl and added to her nervousness.

"Master Johnston," began Cheryl, but before she could say anything else, she burst into tears, fearing 'advancement' meant she would be performing more sexual acts such as intercourse, or more.

"Now, now, Cheryl," said Claude soothingly, "there is nothing to cry about. Are things ok at home?" he asked, all the while knowing the answer.

"Yes," Cheryl said, surprised Claude was asking such a personal question, "but it has been difficult with Rob traveling so much for work," she confided in him, not know why she let that out.

"Is that really it Cheryl?" asked Claude suspiciously, as if knowing what she said wasn't the real answer.

"Yes," answered Cheryl quickly, almost defensively, "of course it is," she stated, emphasizing the point, even if she was in denial.

Clause again smiled, and then asked, "Have you told Rob about your new source of income?" to which Cheryl looked aghast at Claude and in a panic.

"No," she stammered, "no, I haven't," and tears again flowed down her cheeks.

"Ah hah!!" stated Claude, as if in a gotcha moment, "secrets are being kept between the married couple. Don't you think he should know? You know, so he can offer moral support?" Claude asked in a somewhat snide manner.

"I can't," Cheryl sobbed, "I've broken the sanctity of marriage," she cried, "and I'm...," she paused, as if looking for a word.

"Cheryl," explained Claude calmly, "you're one of my whores," he said matter-of-factly.

Cheryl looked at Claude stunned, knowing what he was saying was true, but still, hearing it being said aloud and so direct was a blow to her. She looked at him defeated.

"Repeat after me Cheryl," instructed Claude, "I am a whore working for Claude Johnston."

Cheryl again looked stunned at Claude, not wanting to say aloud what he just told her to say, but still knowing it was true.

"Cheryl," said Claude, a little more impatiently, "please do not make me ask you twice," he said in a menacing tone.

"I am a whore working for Claude Johnston," repeated Cheryl in a quick, monotone, rote sentence with absolutely no emotion.

"That's a start Cheryl," replied Claude, "but now, I need to hear it with feeling, and introduce yourself, state your name aloud proudly after you say 'I'," instructed Claude with more detail.

"I, Cheryl Thomson," still stammering, still with little or no feeling, and Claude cut her off.

"Cheryl, I'm disappointed," stated Claude, "we will continue this at 11:30. Please come to my office instead of your stall," and he motioned that she could leave. Cheryl got up nervously, gathered herself and her items, a purse, her sunglasses, and then she started toward the door. Just as her hand touched the doorknob, Claude called out yet again, "Oh Cheryl," he stated quickly, "I forgot one thing, please step back to my desk."

Cheryl returned to Claude's desk and saw what looked like a miniature Christmas tree made out of black rubber standing on Claude's desk. It was black and with a rounded pointed cone at the top, which after about ¾" got a little wider, and then after another ¾" got still wider. It was maybe ½" wide at the top and maybe 1 ½" wide at the bottom. At the bottom was a circular platform and a stem which connected to the bottom of the fir-tree shaped item. Cheryl was curious about the item, but then grew nervous as she saw a tube of K-Y Jelly on Claude's desk behind the item.

"Cheryl," said Claude pleasantly, although Cheryl didn't feel pleasant at all, "instead of you 'working' for the next few days, I just want you to wear this in class," and Claude nodded at the item.

"Wear?" asked Cheryl confusedly and uncertain what Claude meant, until Claude spoke, explaining.

"This is a butt plug Cheryl," he said, informing her it was NOT a Christmas tree, "and this is the belt you wear around your waist under your dress there to hold it on, so it does not slip out," he said, pointing at the belt, and the butt plug.

Cheryl stood there, looking very stunned and frightened at Claude, who Cheryl could tell was losing his patience. "But, Master Johnston," stated Cheryl, "I..., I don't understand...," she stammered nervously.

"Stand up Cheryl and lean against the desk," ordered Claude, who picked up the butt-plug and began coating it with K-Y Jelly, "quickly Cheryl, and don't make me ask again," stated Claude as Cheryl began complying and Claude walked around the desk to stand behind Cheryl. Claude put his hand between Cheryl's shoulder blades and pushed her forward across his desk so she was bent over completely at the waist and her ass stuck up behind her.

"Claude," pleaded Cheryl, "I mean, Master Johnston, please don't..." she begged.

"Cheryl," explained Claude as he placed the tip of the butt-plug on Cheryl's asshole, "the online school that you received your Masters degree, Principal White and I run and own it;" and at that moment Claude pushed the butt-plug one notch up Cheryl's ass to gradually let her asshole stretch around it which wasn't so difficult as this was the narrowest part of the plug.

Cheryl panicked as she felt it being inserted. It didn't hurt, at least yet, but was an uncomfortable pressure of thickness expanding her ass. Cheryl also was trying to focus on what Claude was saying about her school and her degree.

"Additionally Cheryl," continued Claude, "there are exactly two schools, of which Sherman High School is one of them, which have hired graduates of

OUR ONLINE SCHOOL,

" he said menacingly inserting the butt-plug another notch deeper up Cheryl's ass. Cheryl's asshole began to stretch larger than it ever had before and the slight discomfort was growing more uncomfortable as it sunk in. Cheryl grew even more nervous, knowing the pain she was currently in, and also knowing there were two more notches to go.

"Let me help you Cheryl," said Claude as she watched him pick up a small, egg-shaped object from his desk but she lost sight of it as Claude was behind her. She soon felt his hand pressing the egg in the top part of her pussy, near her clit, and felt Claude attach something to her to affix the egg in place. "This should help with the pain Cheryl," and she heard a click of a remote control and heard and felt the egg as it vibrated, causing an intense sensation of pleasure emanating from her pussy, spreading to her inner thighs, and shooting all over her body, including her ass.

Claude waited just a moment, before explaining further, "Oh," he said matter-of-factly, "one more thing, your husband's investment company," described Claude to Cheryl as he sunk the butt-plug the third of four notches and Cheryl didn't know what she was feeling. The pressure from the butt-plug was forcing her clit to spread open over the vibrating egg emanating rocketing sensations through her body while she tried to focus on Claude's words, "I am a 51% owner of your husband's company."

Claude paused, with 3/4

th

of the butt-plug inserted into Cheryl, along with the vibrating egg, he wanted her body to adjust to the new feelings growing within her. As for Cheryl, she had never felt anything so full, and while for some reason, it was not currently painful, it was a thick discomfort made only bearable by the vibrating egg on her clit.

"So Cheryl," said Claude, his hand still on the butt-plug, "I control both your and your husband's sources of income, and so much more," he paused, still letting Cheryl both feel the pleasure-pain of the butt-plug mixed with the fear and anticipation of the final plunge, "I will need some work from you Cheryl, because," he paused his words and thrust the butt-plug all the way into Cheryl's ass, making her see stars as he body and mind spun around from the pleasure-pain intense feelings going back and forth between her ass, her pussy, and her whole body, "because, my dear Cheryl, your ass is mine," he stated emphatically as he fastened the belt positioning the egg on Cheryl's clit and keeping the butt-plug in Cheryl's ass.

Cheryl tried to stand, but could not. The butt-plug stretched her ass apart painfully and standing upright intensified the pain.

Claude sat behind his desk and pulled out a purple candle which he lit. A red-purplish flame exuded from the candle and Claude chanted, "Koulye a, anseye tankou si ou pa te gen okenn ploge ploge. Se sèlman santiman sou activation ze." [translates to: Now teach as if you had no butt-plug. Only feelings upon egg activation.] Cheryl was able to move now. She still felt a full feeling and was in disbelief she was able to stand erect, but she moved off to her class per Claude's direction as he waved his hand in dismissal.

Cheryl taught her morning classes without issue, except for the brief moments when Claude flicked the toggle switch on the egg to stimulate Cheryl's pussy and cause her ass to feel as if it were going to explode. Those brief moments of pleasure and then pain, followed by intense pleasure as the anal plug forced her clit more firmly against the egg, and then nothing again as Claude turned off the egg and the spell was again reactivated. Cheryl anxiously awaited 11:30 to roll around when she would again speak with Claude.

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Rob Thomson lay in his motel bed with his eyes still closed, thinking about the nights and days before. Each day, he drove to the next town with his list of clients and potential clients, but each day he was striking out. He was developing no new leads nor any increase of business. In fact, it felt as if he was losing more of his business and self to C.T. Conglomerate each day. In fact, the few new clients he did pick up only signed with him because of C.T. Conglomerate.

Well, at least the motel had a nice bar, Rob thought to himself, with his eyes still closed. The drinks flowed well and he was feeling no pain the night before. In fact, Rob remembered some of the hot cute women from the night before at the bar. The bubble butts and nice full breasts of the sweet looking African American gals did something to Rob which he couldn't deny. Gosh, the fantasies that flowed through his mind about them, and Rob began to stretch his arms to the side and yawn to clear the cobwebs from his brain and open his eyes.

Before Rob got his eyes open, Rob felt a body to both his left and right as he stretched his arms. He opened his eyes in a panic and saw the two young African American girls in bed with him naked, lying face down. Rob freaked out, wondering what happened the night before, but at the same time was admiring the naked black asses in the bed with him.

Another thing bothering Rob at the moment now that he was waking up was an intense soreness in his ass, similar to the feeling one gets just after taking a really big #2 in the toilet that didn't want to come out. Rob's jaw also felt quite sore for some unknown reason. He just sat in bed trying to figure out where the soreness in his body came from as he admired the black asses to his left and right, all the while trying to remember Cheryl with fondness, but failing at the same time.

Rob lay on his right shoulder, admiring the naked black form laying next to him when he felt arms begin to cuddle him from behind and the body slide up next to him from behind. A falsetto voice called to him from behind, "Mr. Thomson," it began to say, "you are such a sweet man, and you seem to love when I massage your prostrate," and Rob closed his eyes as he felt the fingers massaging his asshole, sliding in and out with a gel-like substance. Rob thought to himself, "

That must be why my asshole feels sore...

"

The arms from behind began to position Rob so he head began to lean towards the other African American girl's ass. Her voice instructed, "Eat out her ass Rob..." and as he leaned forward towards her ass, his body began to move into a kneeling position in front of the girl fingering his ass.

As Rob's face got closer to her ass, he kissed it and began to lick down it to get to her pussy. Rob closed his eyes and started licking down between the legs. He licked the asshole and began to lick down to where the pussy should be when he felt the girl kneeling behind him grip him around his waist. He then was shocked as he felt something pressing at his asshole. In a panic, he opened his eyes to the ass laying in front of him and he saw beneath the ass was a large pair of balls in a scrotum and a large black cock attached to it.