"Hello, Matthew," came a deep and familiar voice from the phone. "I see I am not the only one who gets to ride you hard and put you up wet."
“H-hello,” Matthew said to the cell phone in his trembling hand.
“Unless you want me to paste those photos all over the teacher’s lounge you just debased…” There was a long pause from the caller, which allowed Matthew to imagine this scenario in all its horrors. “You will march that chubby ass up to your classroom and follow the instructions laid out for you on your desk,” the voice said with a demanding tone.
The phone beeped three times as the line went dead. Matthew lowered the phone and stared blankly at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His head spun with anxious thoughts about the situation, rapidly spiraling out of his control. The phone buzzed again.
“NOW,” read the new text message, the little message bubble underlined the photo of him being ravished by a student. Matthew jumped up, scrambling into his pants and heading toward the door to the hallway.
…
Matthew opened the door to his classroom, huffing slightly, having run faster than he had in recent memory. The room was dim in the twilight of the early evening. His room seemed unperturbed except for a small brown box dead center on the desk.
The teacher approached the desk with apprehension, each step feeling more difficult than the one before. Now that he was closer, he saw a small red envelope on top of the cardboard box. With a shaking hand, Matthew picked up the letter, took out the note, and read.
“What a wonderful show you put on for me and my camera. Now as suggested in our call if you want me to keep those pictures and videos to myself you will do as you're told. In the box, you’ll find some accouterment that I know you’ll be familiar with, you nasty little pig.
The blindfold is to be worn until I tell you otherwise.
The plug will be inserted immediately.
You will wear the wrist restraints.
Remove any underwear; I don’t need it in my way.
Once you are appropriately accessorized, you will put your clothes back on and lean over your desk, facing away from the door, legs spread, hands behind your back, ready and waiting for me.
Be prepared by 5:30
~HS "
Mathew could hear his pulse pounding away. He looked at the clock on the wall and saw he had just under fifteen minutes to be ready. He grabbed the box, overturned it, and let the contents fall onto his desk. A silvery buttplug clunked against the faux wood, two black leather cuffs rolled out, followed by a thin strip of black satin landing atop the other two. His cock twitched in his khakis and began to grow.
He hastily undid his belt and pants, letting them fall to the floor. He grabbed the cold and heavy metal plug. He spat on it and bent over to insert it into his recently fucked hole. The cold metal was shocking but felt good as it slowly entered him. The spittle on the toy and his student's cum lubricated his entrance enough that the plug slid quickly up inside him, and the flared base came to rest against his hairy hole. He shuddered slightly as his hole adjusted to the girth of the metal inside him.
Matthew pulled up his pants and refastened the belt. He felt the cool drip of precum against the khaki fabric, which only seemed to arouse him more. He picked up the leather cuffs, their small metal rings clinking gently as he fastened one and then the other onto his wrists. Lastly, he picked up the satin blindfold and lifted it to his face.
The twilight room went dark as the cloth covered his eyes. He could still see vague outlines in the dwindling light but was almost entirely without sight. He groped for the edge of his desk, already standing with his back to the door, and laid his belly down on the desktop. His cock was throbbing. He clenched his hole against the protruding metal toy, and his heart raced with anticipation and lust. He put his hands behind his back as instructed and laid his blindfolded face down on the cool desk.
He waited. His ears were electric, trying to pick up any hint or sound of what was to come next. He could hear his heartbeat, the soft groan of the air conditioning unit, and a shuffling noise? He heard the unmistakable sound of the classroom door being opened and had to stop himself from turning to look. He lay there half on the desk with his large butt facing whoever had just entered his room.
The door closed–a lock clicked into place–the sound of footsteps. Matthew shifted his weight from foot to foot but tried to stay still. A rattling noise, something moved against the tray of the whiteboard. Another footstep. Silence.
Smack!
Matthew recoiled from the sting of something striking his presented ass. He yelped in response to the sudden sharp pain.
“Remain still, and quiet,” said the same deep voice that had called him earlier. Matthew whimpered slightly in response and attempted to stay still. Another swat came, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He involuntarily clenched down on the buttplug with each smack. A third strike hit him with pinpoint accuracy. Each swat landed in the same spot across the middle of his cheeks. The teacher groaned slightly; the front of his pants was sopping with precum. Two more strikes hit him in quick succession.
“Please,” he heard himself moan out. No response came. After a moment of tense silence, he felt something thin and firm placed on his lower back, right above the crack, and balanced there. He stood as still as possible, attempting to balance the improvised paddle on his ass.
The sound of rustling, a bag being searched.
Clicking, the ting of metal on metal. A sliding noise and a zipper being pulled. Something thudded against the carpeted floor. It was off to his left side but he couldn't tell what was happening. Another rustling sound. A presence behind him.
"Wrists," commanded the voice, and Matthew tried to get his hands closer together. The cuffs were grabbed and twisted; he felt a cord touch one of his open palms and move. He was being tied up. His hole contracted around the plug deep in his ass, which was now warm from his body heat.
His hands were bound behind his back. He felt the makeshift switch lifted from his ass and flinched in anticipation. Nothing happened. Still tense, he didn't hear the footsteps of the intruder but did hear the sound of a zipper.
A hand grabbed his hair and lifted his head upright. His chin was pulled free over the other side of the desk, and a warm wet cock slapped the side of his face.
"Suck."
Matthew opened his mouth, and the cock was pushed between his lips. It tasted salty with sweat, and he savored it. But savoring wasn't the intent of the intruder. Matthew's lips were forced open as more of the cock was shoved into his mouth and down his throat. His face was held firm between two rough hands and fucked mercilessly. His nose bashed into a small pad of fat and pubes as the intruder pushed himself to the hilt. He felt the cock hit the back of his throat, and he involuntarily gagged.
"Choke on it," the command was punctuated with a swat on his ass which caused Matthew to jerk forward onto the cock more. The throat fuck continued, with Matthew grabbing desperate gasps of air whenever possible. A mixture of droll and precum ran down his chin. It was rough and unsettling, but he was enjoying it. Occasionally, the man would swat Matthew with what he assumed was a yardstick; he was thankful for the bit of protection his pants were providing.
The penetration of his mouth stopped as suddenly as it had started. Matthew took a few haggard breaths and spit to clear his airway. His throat was raw, and his cock was rock hard.
A hand was on his ass, squeezing and rubbing. His hole contracted around the plug. He needed to be fucked. He felt the plug pushed up into him by the intruder.