"We have expected better out of all of you."
Erica squirmed under Ms. Arthur's gaze. She didn't like sitting in this room, listening to the school psychologist recount all the things she'd done wrong this year.
"You are all seniors." Ms. Arthur's eyes found one of the students sitting silently in front of her. "And as of today, you're all eighteen. Adults. You should know better."
"Oh, hey. I forgot. Happy birthday Cassie!" That was Chad. The stereotypical jock of their little party. He was what you'd expect, an unruly mop of dirty blonde hair, chiseled jaw, a varsity jacket.
Cassie, sitting next to Erica, flashed Chad a brilliant smile. "Thanks Chad." Erica never understood how Cassie had ended up with them, she seemed so perfect. Preppy to the core, a perfect face, perfect white blonde hair, perfect body, always in a perfectly styled outfit in pink or baby blue.
The other two members of their little fivesome sat silently in the back. Kara had a sneer on her face. Of all of them, she at least looked like a troublemaker. The sides of her head shaved. A ring in one nostril, another in her lower lip. A tattoo of a black dragon rising out of her waistline and up one side of her exposed stomach. Next to her, Zach looked exceedingly plain. Brown hair, normal clothes. He sat slumped in his chair, a look of boredom on his face.
Erica felt pretty normal herself. She didn't think she was anything too great to look at. Sure, she was pretty, in a skinny, flat-chested sort of way. But compared to Cassie's preppy curves or Kara's punk looks she felt invisible. All she wanted was to get through this last year of school and get out of town. Instead, her senior year had turned into one disaster after another. It seemed like once a week she was in this office with the same people, slowly withering under Ms. Arthur's gaze.
It wasn't like the five of them were even friends. Sure, they all knew each other. The school wasn't that big. But before this year they'd probably never spent more than ten minutes together outside of class. Somehow, fate seemed to be pushing them together at the worst moments. The spontaneous food fight that first week. The graffiti incident. A disastrous attempt at a senior prank.
The janitors still hadn't found the last snake.
Those events, and dozens of others great and small had been the defining moments of their last year in school.
Ms. Arthur was still staring at them over the rim of her black glasses. "Your parents are worried," She said calmly. "Worried for your future. They've authorized me to take extraordinary steps." She reached into a drawer and pulled out five bottles of pills. "You'll be taking one of these each night, for the next two weeks. They should help calm you down."
"You can't just give us drugs." Kara sat up in her chair, her anger evident.
"I can and I will." Ms. Arthur pulled out a few sheets of paper. "Here are the releases, signed by your parents. If you don't do as I say, then you don't graduate."
There was grumbling from the students, but it was obvious that Ms. Arthur had already won.
That night, Erica stood in her bathroom, the little white pill resting in her palm. She had never needed to take drugs before. She had friends who took prozac or adderall, but she'd never had the kind of problems that required them. Now, with her grades dropping and her mother worried sick about her, maybe it was time. She swallowed it with a gulp. The pill kicked in right away, making her groggy. Erica made her way to bed, falling asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
The dream started immediately. She was in a hallway. It was paneled in dark wood with a thick red carpet on the floor. Erica could feel a presence behind her, moving her along as she walked towards a distant door. With an effort, she turned her head to look. It was a man, black pants, black shirt. His face was indistinct, out of focus despite her best efforts to look at him. Her attention was drawn back to the front. The door was much closer now.
She walked into a large room. There was a roaring fireplace on one end. Opposite it was a raised platform, like a stage, with a wooden throne. Ms. Arthur was sitting there. Erica gasped when she saw how Ms. Arthur was dressed. She was used to seeing the counselor at school, where she always looked professional. Not here. Her full tits were exposed, the strange bra that she was wearing seemed to support them without covering anything. Black stockings covered her legs. Her pussy was exposed, a neatly trimmed landing strip leading down to her lips.
It was then that Erica realized that she was also naked. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but someone grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She was forced to walk up to the stage.
Ms. Arthur was smiling down at her. "Erica. It's good to see you here. You were always such a nice girl." Her tongue ran over her lips as she considered Erica's naked form. "Not this year. Something has happened to you. But don't worry, we'll make things right. Do you know how?"
Erica shook her head. "No?" Her voice quavered.
"We'll just need to make a few adjustments to your attitude." There was a wicked grin on Ms. Arthur's face. She made a small gesture. "Don't worry. I suspect that you'll enjoy yourself. Maybe you'll even learn something."
Rough hands grabbed Erica's arms, dragging her back. She bumped against something solid. Her arms were jerked up and secured. The same was done for her legs. When she was fully spread someone began turning a crank, and whatever she was strapped to began to move, until she was laying flat, spread eagled on an X shaped table. Two of the indistinct men were standing next to her, carefully going over her bindings. A rumble came from the far side of the room. Erica looked over, desperate to see what was coming.
Another of the men was pushing a cart. There was some sort of machine on it, a metal box with a long arm on it. A fat dildo sat on the end of the arm.
"Oh, god," Erica said when she realized what was about to happen.
The man at the cart began to put the machine in position. One of the other men produced a bottle of lube, and drizzled a liberal amount on Erica's pussy. He began massaging it into her lips, his hand running across her pussy, heat blooming where he touched her. Two of his fingers found their way into her steaming cunt. Erica's hips jerked up as he penetrated her. She wasn't a virgin, not since she'd fucked Jimmy Kowalski after that soccer game, but she wasn't experienced. The feeling of this man gently rubbing lube into her most sensitive parts threatened to overwhelm her. She gasped when he withdrew, her head lifting up as she tried to see where he went.
What she saw was the fat tip of the dildo preparing to plunge into her. "Oh fuck," She moaned. She didn't know what was going on in this dream, but she knew she wanted that machine to fuck her.
She got her wish. It began slowly, a gentle thrust pushing the tip of the dildo past her lips. Erica moaned and lifted her hips, trying to get more of the shaft into her. She didn't have to wait long. With every thrust the machine sped up, pushing a little deeper each time. It spread the tight walls of her cunt open, filling her perfectly. Soon it was a blur, pistoning in and out of her.
Erica was a moaning, sweaty mess. "Oh fuck! Oh god!" She couldn't stop the litany of whorish sounds that were coming from her mouth. Her pussy was making its own chorus of lewd noises. Every thrust of the machine was drawing out more and more of her nectar, a slick river of lust running down the crack of her ass and dripping to the floor. She was grinding her hips, straining against her bindings as waves of pleasure poured from her pussy.
