Forcing you to read your book out loud while you lay on your stomach with me thrusting into you. Hearing you stumble on your words makes me go harder until you finally melt into the bed because you can't focus on anything but my cock pulsing inside you
CW DUBCON SPIT AGE GAP TEACHER STUDENT RELATIONSHIP SLAPPING BALL SUCKING
four fingers come down harsh on your cheek, your professor glaring down at you disapprovingly. the scars along his left side should've told you all you needed to know about him; the eye patch only added another layer to what he'd been through. he was rough inside and out, violent and mean and downright nasty.
professor nanami had no time to think about anyone other than himself. an infamously tough professor, he'd only chosen education as a career around his 50th birthday when he was supposed to 'settle down'. he was thankful that a college would even hire him with his looks and personality—the other things he did during his tenure were just a bonus.
a violent gag erupts from you around the head of his cock, hands tapping his thighs to tell him to let you go, but he chooses otherwise. he likes how repulsed you are by this, by him, and he looks forward to how much you'll hate yourself after it's over.
you are unfortunately his favorite type of person to pick on—bright students who've never had a challenge until his class. girls who look at the world with big eyes and optimism because they don't know the reality of how fucked so many people around them are. he likes to toy with girls like you. sick fuck.
he found it humorous how you'd desperately shown up to his office, the only person brave enough to do so, asking how to improve your grade before the semester ended. he couldn't gauge how you'd feel about his request—with some of his former students feigning disgust to some who didn't think twice about sucking his cock, dropping to their knees and begging pretty please, dont let me fail. however, if god has graced with the ability to keep his job this long despite his digusting habits, why would he get fired now?
globs of spit stain nanami's slacks and the leather desk chair below him, all from the desperate student he has in front of him, choking on his cock. nothing feels better than a tight throat and a sensitive gag reflex to him, he basks in how fucking gross he can make others. spit and snot and tears galore stain his lap and your face, scarred palm and fingers pressing down on the crown of your head, another wet retch leaving your throat, vibrating against his shaft.
black spots go in and out of your vision from the abuse your head has taken, you can't remember the last time he'd let you up for air, or to give you a break. you are dizzy and disoriented, only focused on breathing through your nose even though it burns, and your jaw aches so terribly it feels like it may rip in half.
he likes the struggle he puts you through, how your fingernails dig into his thighs, scratching against the cheap material of his slacks. nanami wonders if you'll be able to rip through them, since you certainly have the spirit—but with his dick shoved down your esophagus and his hand on the back of your head, your strength is being used elsewhere.
another sickly heave expels from you, sounding as if you're about to leave your lunch all over your professor's carpet—only then does he ease up on his hold. drops of saliva and precum and salty tears get coughed right onto nanami's crotch, covering the bottom of his button up and his dick in more of a mess. you're only allowed to catch your breath for a few seconds before his hand curls around the back of your head, pulling you back towards him, forcing you to kiss the hairy patch below his cock.
"suck."
deep, heaving breaths are all that nanami's met with, hot and humid against his balls but still lacking what he wants. his other hand goes back to the crown of your head, fingertips digging in and pushing you further against him, nose and mouth shoved into his ballsack, cutting off your airways until you do as he says.
"i said suck," nanami gruffly demands, finding sick pleasure in the way your eyes widen at him in terror, horrified of doing this for another thirty minutes. your lips finally open up and you begin to barely suckle at his balls, not nearly enough for his liking. rough knuckles grip at the hair on top of your head, pulling you back from between your professor's thighs for a moment, and a sharp smack rings through the room.
your first instinct is to cup your cheek, skin stinging from his backhand, your jaw dropping wide in surprise. when you attempt to pull from his grip, he shoves your face right back in between his legs, hoping your shocked expression can aid you in getting him off.
"fucking suck," he commands, not asking or pleading, but forcing, finishing off his demand by grumbling, "stupid bitch."
your face is partially covered by his cock, your mouth shoved against his sack—it's the prettiest you've looked so far, he'll give you that. a nasty groan leaves his throat when you begin to actually suck his balls, tongue running over the displeasing texture of his pubic hair and the soft skin beneath it. fucking finally.
"yeah," he groans, the sound coming from deep within in chest, neck bending as he lets his head fall back against his chair.
he can feel how slick he is between his legs, how little friction is against your mouth and your cheeks, and he loves it all—truly a disgusting display from someone who had such a big future ahead of her. he looks down at your pathetic expression, eyes glossy and wet and drained from all that he's put you through today, little sniffles and sobs muffled because your mouth is too busy pleasuring him.
all that hard work has only led you to the carpet of your professor's office, gargling his balls in hopes of a good grade.
that thought does him in, ropes of thin cum slowly flowing from his tip as he keeps your mouth tucked against his balls. he makes you stay there for a good while, too, letting his release get in your hair and all over your forehead. there's great enjoyment in the fact that you never stop sucking, either, keeping his nutsack nestled between your lips.
when he finally releases his grip and lets you go, he tries to get a good look at your face, tries to force you to look at him in the eye. he sees your lip quivering, sobs threatening to leave your throat, beaten down and bullied so badly there's no longer a twinkle in your eye. soon, you're running out of his office—messy face and all—somewhere that you hope he'll never be able to see you again at.
nanami wonders how disappointed you'll be in a few weeks when you check your final grades and see that you've failed his class again, and how upset you'll be because you have to take his lecture one more time. next semester, though, he'll teach you how to do something more useful with your free time instead of studying.
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