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Series notes: This story crosses into a few different categories. It's primarily a Sci-Fi/Fantasy piece. However, there are several scenes involving incestuous sex - which is why it is categorized the way that it is. ~ This piece is part of a series. The story will make more sense if you read it from start to finish. ~
All of the chapters in the story-chain will be submitted at the same time and should appear every day or so - depending on what the admins decide.
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~~~ Tuesday afternoon ~~~
Things went well enough until midway through the afternoon - and then, like the Grim Reaper, Principal Prattle suddenly appeared - and I knew this was the end.
I was heading for 6
th
period when I looked up and there she was. She never said a word. She simply gave me "the look" and then turned around. I followed behind her like a criminal heading for the gallows. Ahead of us, I saw students moving out of our way - clearing a path - nudging those with their backs to us and then pulling them to the side of the corridor when they weren't moving quickly enough.
I caught a glimpse of one or two smug looks - but most of the faces were sympathetic. No person in their right mind would wish this fate on even the worst of their enemies - and I hadn't made many enemies during my time here.
Tracy Allgood's eyes widened as she looked up from her desk when we entered the office. She kept her eyes lowered as her boss passed by and then offered me an empathetic grimace. Brushing against her mind, I thought I might catch a glimpse of the tryst I'd had with her and the school nurse - but all of her cognitive processes were overwhelmed with concern about what was going to happen to me.
It was the abject despair that suffused her thoughts that hardened me.
Prattle had been hunting me, stalking me ... for days - even weeks now. Now she was dragging me before the Judgement Seat - ready to hand down her verdict.
I had killed demons - the largest one half again my size. I had slashed, chomped, bitten, punched, chewed, stabbed - and had even used my magic to sever their limbs and rend their powerful bodies down to nothing more than bits and pieces.
Prattle didn't scare me. I had done nothing illegal. She could call the cops and there would be nothing they could do. The worst she could possibly do would be to expel me - and keep me from graduating. I already had a job that paid nearly as much as hers - and I didn't even have a diploma - never mind whatever fucking advanced college degree her job required.
Unlike her, I also had a hell of a lot of people that enjoyed spending time with me - and not just when we were having sex - although that was bonkers too. This woman had a vagina that was crumbling into dust from lack of use - and I could barely get through an hour of my day without some woman trying to get my cock inside of her.
And besides all of that? Magic. I could lock and unlock doors, hide my actions from others, slide through shadows, walk between worlds, and stop people in their tracks with a simple command. There was power coursing through my body that this woman couldn't even begin to understand.
We entered her office, and I stood in front of her desk - in the place of punishment - delivering myself into her hands to receive judgement. She closed the door and walked around to stand behind her desk.
"Do you know what you are, Mr. Levid?" she asked me.
"An above average student - with a rather extensive vocabulary, not to mention a phenomenal grasp of grammar and a superlative command of syntax?"
"A troublemaker, Mr. Levid. You're a troublemaker."
"Yeah, I was going with that ... and then I went back and changed my answer. That's almost never a good idea. You probably knew that. You'd think I'd have learned that by now as well."
"Do you know what we do with troublemakers, Mr. Levid?" she asked.
"For most multiple choice questions, if there's a 'None of the above', that's almost always the right answer. Is one of the choices 'None of the above', Ms. Prattle?
"It's MRS Prattle, MR Levid," she spat.
I paused - just to let her catch her breath.
"Just out of curiosity, did your husband die, ma'am? Cuz, from the smell of your cunt, you haven't had sex in over a decade."
"I ... There is no possible way you can know that," she said - almost to herself.
"I have a superior sense of smell. I've also been told that I'm a snappy dresser."
"Do you ever shut up?"
"I apologize, Ms. Prattle, I thought I was being interrogated. Normally, when a subject is being interrogated they are expected to respond."
She fixed me with a glare.
"You are here - Mr. Levid," she hissed, "to be dealt with - like a common roach."
"Are you going to step on me, Ms. Prattle? Are feet your kink? If I show you my cock, will you have this insane desire to rub your stocking-covered foot up and down my penis, watching my face as you control and torment me - carefully keeping me hanging over the edge of the abyss - desperate for the release that only you can give ...?"
The image from her mind nearly knocked me off of my feet.
"It is ...," I whispered, suddenly understanding.
"You ...," she whispered in reply, "... you can't ... can't know that ..."
She stood, unmoving as I undressed. I tossed my clothes by her door, clicked the lock (and then added a magic one), and then moved the chairs out of the way.
I laid myself down - on the cold cement floor - in the high school principal's office. I stretched my arms and my legs out - as far as possible - splayed out - spread-eagle - presenting myself to Mrs. Eunice Prattle - to be ... dealt with.
She stepped out of her low heels and came around the desk. Her eyes were smoldering, her pussy was salivating, and she was ... alive ... alive with lust. A primal hunger like I had never seen or felt before suffused her completely - body, mind, and soul.
She stepped between my thighs and then extended her stocking-covered right foot. She shoved my long, thick penis down against my abdomen - and then she locked her eyes onto mine.
I didn't have to try very hard to read her thoughts - to know what she wanted - how she expected this to go - and what would make her hornier than a polecat.
The sole of her foot and her toes were tools - and she used those tools to deliver an intense level of stimulation to my taint, scrotum, and penis. As she used those implements on me, she studied my face - seeking to understand what drove me crazy - and watching for the faintest sign that I was getting close to an orgasm - which would cause her to yank her foot away and stare at me as my battered cock pulsed and throbbed - so close to finding release - but being denied.
The challenge with Prattle analyzing me was that I was studying her - trying to mold my reactions to get her to edge as well. I was confident that she would torture me until she thought I couldn't take it anymore - and then she would enjoy a quiet little orgasm as she watched the splooge fountain from the tip of my phallus and splatter against my body. After that, she would place her socked foot on my stomach and chest - and use her sole and toes to rub and stimulate new areas of my body - smearing my own semen across my skin - and thrilling as my body soaked its moisture in.
I gasped as my balls erupted and my jizz rose into the air to spray onto my stomach and chest. The gooey mess reached almost to my neck.
I'd been so distracted - watching Prattle's thoughts - that she had accomplished all of what I had foreseen - and now there was a wall of lust coming off of her - equal amounts of yearning and satisfaction rolled together - as the first phase of her plan came to fruition.
When she had finished making a mess of me, she unfastened her long grey plaid skirt, removed it, and laid it on the desk. The lace along the edges of her panties surprised me a little - as did the color - a red so bright that it seemed to shimmer.
"Hands to your sides," she ordered.
I complied.
She knelt over my head, pulled the crotch of her panties to the side, and - staring into my eyes - lowered her slick labia onto my lips.
I began to lick and lap at her.
"Yes."
She dragged her cunt lower, and I found her clitoris on my lips, I licked it and then sucked it.
A jolt - like electricity - shot through her body - and then she slid her cunt upward again - once more redirecting my attentions to where she wanted them. I lay there - on the floor of her office - for another half-hour - using my lips and tongue to give her exactly what she desired.
Finally, her thighs tightened against my face, and she stifled a whimper, and her nectar ran onto my tongue. I lapped it up like a kitten with a fresh bowl of milk. She rode through her climax - and my ministrations - and then she stood.
She walked to her desk, picked up a box of facial tissues, and held them out to me. I sat up and took them. She picked up her skirt and walked away. I got one last look at her ass - in those blood-red lace panties - before they disappeared - blocked from my view by the cold metal desk.
She turned to face me and then bent down to put her skirt back on. She saw me watching her and sent me a mental command to quit messing around and get myself cleaned up. I used numerous tissues to wipe away the ejaculate that hadn't already dried. I dropped the ruined cloths into the trash and - when I was done - returned the box to its place on her desk.
She looked - pointedly - at my pile of clothes. I slid the chairs back into their places and then got dressed. She was still standing. She glanced at the doorknob. I removed my magic lock, dispelled the shroud, and twisted the knob, unlocking the door.
I stepped through and began moving toward the exit to the office. I hesitated near the secretary's desk but a quick look from her told me that the principal was standing in her doorway, watching us. I kept walking.
A wave of fresh air hit me as I stepped into the hallway. Those who recognized me from my walk of shame quickly ran their eyes over my body - looking for obvious signs of torture.
I glanced at my phone to see that school was nearly over. I headed for my final class of the day.
On my way there, I passed by Alicia Dyson's locker. Jacob was there, waiting for her to gather her books.
