Ms. Hinds has the worst day imaginable. Mike and Matt force her into the bathroom and she can only wait and let them have their way with her.
The classroom buzzed with the faint hum of the air conditioner, the late afternoon sun streaming through the blinds and casting long, golden streaks across the desks. Jenny sat at her table, a stack of math quizzes in front of her, the red pen in her hand poised over the next paper. Tiffany sat across from her, legs crossed under the chair, her own pile of papers neatly organized. She’d offered to stay after school to help grade, and Jenny couldn’t deny the extra hands were a relief.
“This one,” Tiffany held up a quiz, squinting at the name in the top corner, “says the area of a circle is pi times the radius squared, but they multiplied it by two instead. Should I mark it wrong or give them partial credit?”
Jenny glanced at the paper, her lips pursed in thought. “Partial credit. They got the formula right, just messed up the multiplication. Put a note to double-check their work.”
Tiffany nodded, her pencil scratching across the page as she jotted down the feedback. She was meticulous, her handwriting neat and precise, her focus unwavering. Jenny watched her for a moment, the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way she bit her lower lip as she worked. For a student, Tiffany had a maturity about her that made her stand out.
“You’re doing great, Tiff,” Jenny said, leaning back in her chair. “I appreciate the help.”
Tiffany looked up, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s fun. I like seeing how everyone did. Some of these answers are… creative.”
Jenny chuckled, flipping to the next quiz in her stack. “Creative is one word for it. I’m just glad you’re here to help me make sense of it all.”
The two worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the scratch of pens on paper and the occasional flip of a page. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the minutes slipping by as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
The door creaked open, and Jenny looked up just as Mike and Matt sauntered in, their backpacks slung carelessly over one shoulder. Their grins were wide, mischievous, the kind that usually meant trouble.
"Hey, Ms. Hinds," Mike said, leaning against the edge of her desk. His voice was too loud for the quiet room, and Tiffany flinched slightly at the sound.
Jenny straightened in her chair. "Boys, the tutoring session ended an hour ago. What are you doing here?"
Matt smirked, tilting his head toward Tiffany. "We came to help too. Didn't know Tiff got special privileges."
Tiffany kept her eyes on the papers, but her fingers tightened around her pencil.
Jenny’s jaw tensed. "Tiffany is helping me grade, and she asked in advance. Unless you two have a reason to be here, you need to head home."
Mike nudged a pile of ungraded quizzes with his elbow, sending a few sheets sliding across the desk. "Oops. Guess we’re just clumsy."
Matt snickered, moving behind Tiffany’s chair. He reached over her shoulder and plucked a graded quiz from her stack. "That’s mine! Hey—give it back!" She swiped at it, but he held it tauntingly above her reach.
Jenny stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Enough. Put it down, Matt."
He hesitated, but Mike grinned wider, grabbing another paper from the desk. "What’s the big deal? It’s just some dumb homework."
Jenny stepped around the desk, her voice sharp. "Last warning. Hand them over and get out."
Matt dropped the quiz back onto the pile, but Mike crumpled the one in his grip before tossing it at Jenny’s feet. "Whatever. This class is boring anyway."
They turned to leave, laughing as they shoved each other, starting to head to the door. Jenny exhaled, forcing her hands to unclench. Tiffany stayed perfectly still, blinking at the crumpled paper on the floor.
Jenny straightened her posture, her hands smoothing down the front of her fitted skirt. The navy fabric hugged her hips, stopping just above her knees, and paired with a crisp white blouse that clung subtly to her frame. She’d chosen the outfit that morning for its professional yet approachable look, but now she felt uncomfortably aware of Matt’s lingering gaze, he had stopped before leaving the room. His eyes were fixed on her, roaming from her waist to her legs, his smirk deepening as if he knew exactly how unnerving his stare was.
She crossed her arms, her voice firm. “Eyes up here, Matt. This is your final warning.”
Matt hesitated for a moment, then let out a low chuckle, glancing at Mike as if they shared some private joke. But Mike wasn’t paying attention to Jenny. His focus had shifted to Tiffany.
Tiffany sat frozen in her chair, her cheeks flushed as Mike’s eyes swept over her. She wore a simple outfit—a pale pink sweater with a pleated skirt that matched. Her socks were pulled up neatly, and her shoes were scuffed but clean. Mike’s gaze lingered on her legs, then her chest, his expression shifting from amusement to something more calculating.
Tiffany gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles whitening. Her voice came out small, barely audible. “Stop it.”
Mike smirked, walking closer. “What? Can’t take a compliment?”
Jenny stepped between them, her tone sharp. “Out. Now. Both of you.”
Matt hesitated, but Mike shrugged, backing away with a final glance at Tiffany. “We’re going, we’re going. No need to get all worked up.”
The boys sauntered out of the room, their laughter echoing down the hall. Jenny watched them go, her jaw tight, before turning back to Tiffany. The girl was still hunched over her desk, her shoulders tense.
Jenny softened her tone. “Are you okay, Tiff?”
Tiffany nodded quickly, her eyes fixed on the papers in front of her. “I’m fine.”
Jenny hesitated, wanting to say more, but the look on Tiffany’s face told her not to press. She exhaled quietly, returning to her seat. The room felt colder now, the tension lingering like a storm cloud.
Jenny’s ears perked at the sound of laughter echoing down the hallway, sharp and unrestrained. The boys hadn’t left. She pushed back her chair, the legs scraping against the floor, and stood. “Stay here, Tiff,” she said firmly, her voice carrying a warning edge. “I’ll be right back.”
She strode out of the classroom, her heels clicking against the linoleum, and followed the noise. The hallway stretched long and empty, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow. Mike’s voice carried, cutting through the silence. “Man, she’s such a trip. Always acting like she’s the boss.”
Jenny turned the corner, and there they were—Matt and Mike, lounging against the lockers, their backpacks abandoned at their feet. She crossed her arms, her voice low and commanding. “I told you two to leave. Why are you still here?”
Matt shrugged, his smirk never wavering. “We’re just chilling. No harm in that.”
“The school is closed. You need to leave. Now.”
Mike pushed off the locker, his hands in his pockets, his tone mocking. “Or what? You’ll call the principal? Go ahead.”
Jenny stepped closer, her gaze locked on his. “This isn’t a game. If you don’t leave, there will be consequences.”
Matt chuckled, glancing at Mike. “Consequences. Sounds serious.”
Before Jenny could respond, Mike lunged forward, his hand clamping around her wrist. She jerked back, but his grip was firm, his face inches from hers. “Let’s go, Ms. Hinds. We’ve got something to show you.”
Panic surged through her, but she masked it, her voice steady. “Let go of me.”
Matt moved behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders, propelling her down the hall. She twisted, trying to break free, but their combined strength was too much. “Stop this! You’re making a huge mistake!”
Mike ignored her, his tone light, almost amused. “Don’t worry, we’re just having some fun.”
They reached the boys’ bathroom, and Mike shoved the door open, pulling her inside. The air smelled faintly of bleach and sweat, she slide over the tiles. Matt kept a firm hold on her as Mike closed the door behind them. Jenny’s heart pounded, her mind racing, but she kept her voice calm. “You don’t want to do this. Think about what you’re doing.”
Mike smirked, leaning against the sink. “Relax, Ms. Hinds. We’re just getting started.”
Jenny stumbled as she was shoved forward, her knees hitting the cold tile floor. Pain shot through her legs, but she pushed it down, scrambling backward until her back hit the wall. She sat there, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her hands pressed flat against the floor for balance. Her eyes darted between the two boys, her mind racing even as her body froze.
Matt stepped closer, his shadow looming over her. He tilted his head, his smirk widening as he looked her up and down. “Man, Ms. Hinds, you’ve been teasing us all year, haven’t you? Those tight skirts, those heels… You knew we were watching.”
Jenny’s jaw tightened, her voice low but steady. “This isn’t a joke, Matt. Stop this right now.”
Matt crouched down, his face level with hers. His breath smelled faintly of mint gum, but the glint in his eyes was anything but fresh. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t want it. You’ve been asking for it. Walking around like that, bending over desks, letting us see everything…” He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face, and she jerked her head away.
“You’re wrong,” she said, her voice firm. “This isn’t what you think it is.”
Matt chuckled, leaning back on his heels. His gaze lingered on her legs, her waist, the curve of her chest. “No, I think I’ve got it figured out. You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been begging for it since day one.”
Jenny’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She forced herself to breathe, to stay calm, even as her skin crawled under his gaze.
Jenny's heart pounded in her chest as Mike stepped closer, his height casting a shadow over her. He crouched down, his knees cracking as he dropped to her level, his eyes lingering on her face before roaming down her body. His grin was wide, his voice thick with a mix of admiration and something darker.
"Damn, Ms. Hinds," he started, his tone slow, deliberate. "You know, I never really thought about it before, but you’re… You’re Asian, right? Like, full-on, like, exotic and all that. I mean—" he gestured vaguely at her, "—look at you. Your skin’s so smooth, like porcelain or something. And your hair, it’s so straight and dark, like silk. I bet it feels like silk too."
Jenny’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing as she forced herself to stay still. Her fingers dug into the tile beneath her, the cold seeping into her palms. She refused to let him see her fear, refused to give him the satisfaction.
"And your eyes," Mike continued, leaning closer, his breath hot on her face. "They’re so sharp, like you can see right through people. That’s sexy, you know? Like, you’re all smart and in charge, but you’ve got this… this look, like you’re hiding something. Like there’s more to you than just the teacher act."
He reached out, his fingers brushing the side of her face, and she flinched, pulling away. But he didn’t stop, his touch trailing down to her neck, his thumb pressing lightly against her pulse point. She could feel her heartbeat thrumming under his touch, betraying her despite her composure.
"And your body," he said, his voice dropping lower, almost reverent. "I mean, you’re not like those other teachers, all frumpy and boring. You’ve got curves in all the right places. That tight skirt, those heels—you know what you’re doing. You’re teasing us, Ms. Hinds. Driving us crazy. We’ve been watching you all year, and you knew it, didn’t you?"
Jenny’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She turned her face away, her hair falling to shield her expression, but Mike gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"Don’t act like you didn’t know," he said, his voice firm now, almost accusing. "You’ve been begging for this since the first day of class."
Mike’s hand moved to his waistband, and Jenny’s breath caught in her throat. He smirked, unzipping his jeans with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving hers. Her stomach churned, her mind screaming at her to look away, but she couldn’t. She was frozen, her body betraying her panic.
His jeans dropped to his ankles, and he stepped out of them, standing before her in nothing but his boxers. She could see the outline of him, the fabric straining, and her chest tightened. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down, letting them fall to the floor.
Jenny’s eyes flicked downward instinctively, and her breath hitched. He was massive, far larger than she’d expected for someone his age. She’d only seen one man naked before—her college boyfriend, Tim. Tim had been decently endowed, but Mike was something else entirely. Thick, long, and veiny, it was almost intimidating. Jenny felt a flush of shame as her mind involuntarily compared the two. Tim had been gentle, shy even, and their encounters had been awkward and fumbling. This—this was something else entirely.
Her throat went dry, and she forced herself to look away, focusing on the graffiti-scarred wall of the bathroom. Her thoughts raced back to the last time she’d been intimate with someone. It had been years ago, in her college dorm room, the air thick with the scent of cheap cologne and desperation. Tim had been inexperienced, his movements unsure, his body lean and wiry. She’d always been the one to take the lead, guiding him, coaxing him.
But this—this was raw, unfiltered power. Mike’s confidence radiated off him, his broad shoulders and muscular frame a stark contrast to Tim’s lanky build. Jenny’s hands trembled as she pressed them flat against the cold tile, her mind reeling. She’d been alone since college, her occasional forays into self-pleasure in the bathtub the closest she’d come to intimacy. But this—this was something she’d never imagined, never prepared for.
Mike stepped closer, his shadow falling over her again, and she braced herself, her body trembling with a mix of fear and something else she refused to name.
The scent hit her first—a sharp, musky aroma that filled the cramped space of the bathroom. It was pungent, unmistakably teenage, a mix of sweat and something raw that made her stomach twist. Jenny’s nose wrinkled involuntarily, but she forced herself to breathe through her mouth, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven bursts. Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, the cracked tiles blurring as she tried to steady her thoughts.
The weight of Mike’s presence loomed over her, his body heat radiating like a furnace. She could feel him closer now, his shadow pressing down on her, and then she felt it—a light tap against her cheek. The tip of him, warm and firm, grazed her skin, sending a jolt through her body. Her breath hitched, her hands trembling where they pressed against the cold floor. She didn’t need to look up to know what he wanted. The message was clear, deliberate.
Her throat tightened, her mind racing. She’d never been in a situation like this, never imagined it could happen. The air felt thick, suffocating, the scent of him overwhelming her senses. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, a steady, panicked rhythm that drowned out everything else.
She hesitated, her body rigid, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear and disbelief. But the tap came again, firmer this time, more insistent. Her eyes flicked up for a moment, meeting his gaze. His smirk was cruel, taunting, and his hand moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair.
Her stomach churned, and she swallowed hard, her mouth dry. She knew she had no choice, no way out. The cold floor beneath her seemed to press up, grounding her even as her world tilted sideways. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms, but she closed her eyes and leaned forward, the weight of his expectation bearing down on her like a leaden weight.
Mike’s low chuckle echoed in the cramped bathroom, a sound that sent a shiver down Jenny’s spine. His grip on her hair tightened, forcing her to tilt her head back. She winced, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to steady her breathing. His voice was low, mocking, but there was an edge to it—a threat that made her stomach clench.
“You’re gonna do this, Ms. Hinds,” he said, his tone casual, like he was discussing homework. “And you’re gonna enjoy it. Or…” He paused, his smirk widening as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “We’ll go get Tiffany. And trust me, she won’t be as lucky as you.”
Jenny’s chest tightened, her hands trembling where they rested on the cold tile floor. Tiffany’s face flashed in her mind—the girl’s wide, frightened eyes, her small frame hunched over her desk, her voice barely a whisper. Jenny swallowed hard, her throat dry, her mind racing. She couldn’t let them hurt her. She couldn’t.
Her gaze flicked up to Mike’s face, his expression smug, confident. He knew he had her. He knew she wouldn’t risk Tiffany. The weight of that realization pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. Her jaw clenched, her nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to nod, a single, almost imperceptible movement.
Mike’s grin widened, his hand releasing her hair to trail down her cheek. “Good. I knew you’d see it my way.”
Jenny’s stomach churned, her body rigid with tension as he stepped back, giving her a clear view of him. She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath shaky, before forcing herself to look at him again. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to run, but the thought of Tiffany, of what they might do to her, kept her rooted in place.
Mike’s voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was no mistaking the menace behind it. “Now, Ms. Hinds… let’s see what you can do.”
Jenny’s legs trembled as she pushed herself up from the cold tile floor, her knees aching from the pressure. The air in the bathroom felt heavy, cloying, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows on the cracked walls. Her hands shook as she reached for the hem of her blouse, her fingers fumbling with the fabric. The boys stood back, their phones raised, the red recording lights glaring like tiny, unblinking eyes.
She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat, but the weight of their gazes pushed her forward. Slowly, she pulled the blouse over her head, the fabric catching on her arms before she let it fall to the floor. Her bra was simple, white and practical, the kind that offered support without drawing attention. Her skin felt exposed under the stark light, her shoulders tensing as the cool air brushed against her.
Her hands moved to her skirt, the zipper catching for a moment before she managed to slide it down. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her bra, panties, and heels. She stepped out of the skirt, her movements stiff, mechanical. The boys didn’t speak, but she could hear the soft clicks of their phones, recording and taking pictures of her.
Her fingers trembled as she reached behind her back, unhooking the bra with slow, deliberate movements. The straps slipped down her shoulders, and she let the garment fall, the cool air washing over her bare chest. Her breasts were small, delicate, the nipples hardening under the chill. She crossed her arms over her chest instinctively, but Mike’s low chuckle stopped her.
“Uh-uh,” he said, his voice taunting. “Hands down.”
Jenny’s jaw clenched, but she obeyed, her arms dropping to her sides. The boys’ phones focused on her, the lenses capturing every inch of her exposed skin. Her stomach clenched as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, the last barrier between her and their scrutiny.
She hesitated for a moment, her breath hitching, but the weight of their expectations forced her to continue. Slowly, she slid the panties down her legs, stepping out of them and her heels, sliding them with the rest of her cloths. The cold tile pressed against her bare feet, the sensation grounding her even as her mind reeled.
Her body was fully exposed now, vulnerable under the unforgiving light. Her skin was smooth, unblemished, the curve of her hips leading to long, slender legs. Her shaved mound was bare, the soft skin pale in contrast to the rest of her. She felt every inch of herself under their gaze, the weight of their stares pressing down on her like a physical force.
Jenny stood frozen, the cold air biting at her bare skin. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, but the command in the boys’ eyes forced her to spread them slightly. Her shaven mound was smooth, soft, the skin a shade lighter than the rest of her. Her labia were small, delicate, the faint blush of pink barely visible under the harsh bathroom light. The scent of her fear hung in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of teenage sweat.
Matt and Mike exchanged a look, their grins widening as they started stripping their cloths off. Matt pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a lean, wiry frame. His chest was smooth, the muscle faint but defined from playing basketball after school. His jeans hit the floor with a clatter, and he stepped out of them, his boxer briefs tented obscenely. With a flick of his wrist, the fabric dropped, and his cock sprang free—long and thick, the head swollen and glistening. Veins snaked along the shaft, the skin a deep, dusky brown. It stood at full attention, bobbing slightly as he moved closer.
Mike was next, his movements slow, deliberate. He yanked his shirt off, tossing it aside to reveal a broader chest, his pecs more pronounced. His hands went to his to his already hard dick. It was longer than Matt’s, the shaft slightly curved, the head a deep, flushed red. He smirked, his hand wrapping around the base as he gave it a slow, deliberate stroke.
As they stood there Tiffany walked in.
Tiffany took one step into the room and her eyes met Jenny, her eyes wide, her hands clutching the strap of her backpack until her knuckles turned white. She stared at the unfolding scene, her mouth open slightly. Her small frame seemed to shrink under the weight of it all, her a-cup breasts barely visible under her oversized sweater, her legs thin and pale. Her gaze flicked to Jenny, then to the boys, her face pale as she tried to process what was happening.
The air in the bathroom grew heavier, the tension crackling like static. The boys stepped closer, their cocks swaying with each movement, their expressions hungry. Jenny’s breath hitched, her body trembling as she waited for what came next.
Jenny’s face burned with shame as Tiffany stood frozen by the door, her backpack slipping from her shoulder to the floor with a dull thud. The girl’s wide eyes darted between Jenny and the boys, her mouth hanging open in silent shock. Jenny wanted to cover herself, to hide, but the weight of their threat kept her still. She couldn’t let them touch Tiffany. She wouldn’t.
Matt’s voice cut through the tension, low and commanding. “You’re gonna do what we say, Ms. Hinds. And you’re gonna make it good. If you act like you’re into it, Tiffany just gets to watch.” His smirk was cruel, his gaze flicking to the younger girl, who flinched under his stare. “If you don’t… well, we’ll take care of her instead.”
Jenny’s stomach churned, her chest tightening as she forced herself to nod. Her hands trembled at her sides, her bare skin prickling under the harsh fluorescent light. She glanced at Tiffany, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s okay. Just… just stay there.”
The girl didn’t move, her small frame shaking as she pressed herself against the wall. Her hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white, but she didn’t speak. Jenny’s heart ached for her, the guilt and humiliation crashing over her in waves. She turned back to the boys, her jaw clenching as she forced herself to stand straighter, to meet their eyes.
Mike stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grip her arm. His touch was firm, almost possessive, and she flinched as he pulled her toward him. His voice was low, teasing. “Come on, Ms. Hinds. Show us how much you like it.”
Jenny’s breath hitched, her body stiff as he guided her down to her knees. The cold tile bit into her skin, but she barely felt it, her mind numb with fear and shame. Her eyes flicked to Tiffany one last time, the girl’s face pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. Jenny swallowed hard, her throat dry, and turned back to the boys.
She didn’t have a choice. Not if it meant keeping Tiffany safe. Her hands trembled as she reached out, the weight of their expectations pressing down on her like a leaden weight.
Jenny knelt on the cold tile floor, the chill seeping into her knees as the boys loomed over her. Her hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing against Matt’s cock first. The skin was warm, almost feverish, and she hesitated for a moment before wrapping her hand around it. Her grip was tentative, unsure, but Matt’s low chuckle spurred her on.
She leaned forward, her breath hitching as she opened her mouth, her tongue pressing against the tip of Matt’s cock. The taste was sharp, musky, and she fought back the urge to gag. Her eyes flicked up to his face, his smirk widening as she took him into her mouth. She moved slowly, her lips stretching around him, her tongue swirling hesitantly. Her other hand reached for Mike, her fingers wrapping around his shaft. It was thicker, heavier, and she began to stroke him with shaky, uneven movements.
Matt groaned, his hand tangling in her hair as he pushed her head down, forcing her to take more of him. She choked, her throat tightening around him, but he didn’t ease up. Her jaw ached as she tried to keep up, her movements growing more desperate. Her hand on Mike sped up, her fingers sliding along his length as he thrust into her grip.
The boys’ breathing grew heavier, their groans filling the cramped bathroom. Jenny’s head bobbed, her mouth working to keep up with Matt’s rhythm. Her hand on Mike moved faster, her fingers tightening around him as she tried to please them both. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and musk, the sound of their low growls and her ragged breathing echoing off the walls.
Her throat burned, her jaw aching, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. Her eyes flicked to Tiffany, the girl still pressed against the wall, her face pale, her hands clenched into fists. Jenny’s heart ached for her, the guilt and shame crashing over her in waves. But she kept going, her movements driven by the need to protect the girl, to keep her safe.
Matt’s grip on her hair tightened, his thrusts growing more erratic. Mike’s hand joined hers, his fingers wrapping around her wrist as he guided her strokes. The boys’ groans grew louder, their movements more frantic, and Jenny braced herself for what came next.
Matt’s grip on her hair tightened, his hips jerking forward as a low, guttural groan escaped his lips. Jenny felt the first hot spurt hit the back of her throat, thick and salty, the taste sharp and unfamiliar. Her throat convulsed as she tried to swallow, the texture sticky and warm. It coated her tongue, the bitterness lingering as she forced herself to keep going, her jaw aching with the effort.
Matt’s cock pulsed in her mouth as he emptied himself, his breath ragged as he held her head in place. Jenny’s eyes watered, her stomach churning as she swallowed, the act mechanical, detached. The taste lingered, sour and metallic, clinging to her tongue no matter how many times she tried to clear it. She hated it—hated the way it filled her mouth, the way it made her feel small, powerless.
When Matt finally pulled away, his cock slipping from her lips with a soft pop, Jenny wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her breath shallow. Her throat felt raw, her lips swollen, but there was no time to recover. Mike was already stepping forward, his cock still hard, his eyes dark with hunger.
Jenny didn’t hesitate this time. She leaned forward, her hands trembling as they wrapped around Mike’s shaft. Her mouth opened, her tongue pressing against the tip before she took him in. He was thicker than Matt, his cock stretching her lips wider as she struggled to accommodate him. The salty taste of his pre-cum mixed with the remnants of Matt’s release, the combination making her stomach twist.
Mike’s hand grabbed her hair, his grip firm as he guided her movements. She sucked him slowly at first, her tongue swirling around the head before taking more of him into her mouth. His breath hitched, his hips thrusting forward as she worked. The taste wasn’t as sharp as Matt’s, but it was still bitter, still foreign. Her movements became more desperate, her jaw aching as she tried to keep up with his rhythm.
Mike groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair as he pushed her head down further. Jenny’s throat tightened around him, her gag reflex kicking in, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to take more. Her hand moved along the base of his cock, her fingers sliding over the smooth skin as she worked to please him. The air in the bathroom was thick with the sounds of his heavy breathing and her uneven gasps, the tension crackling like electricity.
Jenny knelt on the cold tile, her body trembling as Matt’s hand slid between her legs. His fingers brushed against her, the touch deliberate, probing. She flinched, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Her body betrayed her, a wetness spreading despite the revulsion churning in her gut. She hated how it responded, how it seemed to betray her, readying itself even as her mind screamed for it to stop.
Matt’s fingers pressed harder, parting her lips, sliding over the slick heat he found there. Jenny’s nails dug into her palms, her fists clenched so tight they ached. His touch was clinical, almost curious, as if he were testing her, seeing just how far he could push. She stared straight ahead, her gaze fixed on the grimy wall of the bathroom, refusing to look at him, refusing to acknowledge what was happening.
Mike’s cock still filled her mouth, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. She forced herself to keep going, her tongue moving mechanically, her throat burning with every push. The dual sensations overwhelmed her—Mike’s thickness stretching her lips, Matt’s fingers pressing, rubbing, exploring. Her body reacted, a traitorous heat building despite her disgust.
Matt leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “You’re wet,” he murmured, his voice low and mocking. “You like this, don’t you, Ms. Hinds?”
Jenny’s jaw tightened, her chest heaving as she fought to keep her breathing steady. She hated him—hated the way his words slithered into her ears, hated the smugness in his tone. But she didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her mouth was too full, her voice trapped behind the weight of Mike’s cock.
Matt’s fingers moved faster, his touch growing more insistent. Jenny’s thighs trembled, her body betraying her again as a low, involuntary moan escaped her throat. She hated everything about this—hated the sound, hated the way her body seemed to belong to them in that moment. Her eyes stung, tears threatening to spill, but she blinked them back, refusing to give them that satisfaction.
Jenny’s jaw ached, her lips stretched tight around Mike’s cock as he thrust deeper into her mouth. The taste of him was bitter, the saltiness of his pre-cum mixing with the remnants of Matt’s cum still lingering on her tongue. Her throat burned, her gag reflex threatening to kick in, but she forced herself to keep going, her movements mechanical, her mind numb.
Mike’s breathing grew heavier, his hips jerking forward with more urgency. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth with short, sharp thrusts. Jenny’s eyes watered, her vision blurring as she struggled to keep up. The sound of his low groans filled the cramped bathroom, mingling with the wet, rhythmic noises of her mouth working around him.
She felt it before it happened—the way his cock twitched, the way his body tensed. Mike’s grip on her hair tightened, his thrusts growing erratic as he let out a guttural groan. The first spurt hit the back of her throat, hot and thick, the taste sharp and overwhelming. Jenny’s throat convulsed as she tried to swallow, the texture sticky and warm. It coated her tongue, the bitterness clinging no matter how much she forced herself to gulp it down.
Mike’s cock pulsed in her mouth as he emptied himself, his breath ragged as he held her head in place. Jenny’s eyes squeezed shut, her stomach churning as she swallowed, the act mechanical, detached. The taste lingered, sour and salty, clinging to her tongue no matter how many times she tried to clear it. She hated the way it filled her mouth, the way it made her feel small, powerless.
When Mike finally pulled away, his cock slipping from her lips, his cock still hard, Jenny wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her breath shallow. Her throat felt raw, her lips swollen, but there was no time to recover. She glanced down, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and saw the streaks of cum that had dripped onto her skin, glistening under the harsh bathroom light.
Matt’s fingers were still between her legs, his touch relentless, probing. She hated how her body responded, how it betrayed her, slick and ready despite the revulsion churning in her gut. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at the floor, refusing to meet their eyes.
But there was no escape.
Jenny’s knees wobbled as she pushed herself up from the cold tile floor, her legs unsteady beneath her. She leaned against the wall, the rough surface pressing into her palms as she tried to steady herself. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glanced at the boys. Their eyes were on her, dark and hungry, waiting.
“Just… get it over with,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, barely audible over the pounding of her own heartbeat. She turned, positioning herself against the wall, her back to them. Her hands pressed flat against the tiles, her body trembling as she waited. She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the sound of their breathing, the heavy weight of their presence behind her.
Matt didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. Jenny flinched at the touch, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the blunt pressure of him pressing against her. She clenched her jaw, her nails scraping against the wall as she braced herself.
Jenny gasped as Matt forced himself inside her, the stretch sharp and sudden. It had been years—so long she'd almost forgotten how it felt. And even then, only once. Tim had been gentle, hesitant, fumbling in the dorm room. Nothing like this.
Matt's fingers dug bruises into her hips as he started moving, his cock dragging inside her with rough, impatient thrusts. The friction burned. Her inner walls clenched instinctively around him, unused to the intrusion. Pain radiated up her spine, her nails scraping against the grimy bathroom tiles to stay upright.
Behind her, Mike let out a low laugh. His hands slid around her waist, fingers finding her breasts. He pinched her nipples hard, twisting until she whimpered into the wall.
"Tighter than I thought," Matt grunted, snapping his hips harder. "Like a damn virgin."
Jenny squeezed her eyes shut. That almost hurt worse—the way they didn't even know how close to the truth that was. How long she'd gone without, how little she'd done even when she had someone. The burn between her thighs intensified when Matt shifted, hitting deeper. A shocked sound punched from her throat.
Mike let go of her breasts. "Switch," he ordered Matt, voice thick.
"No," Matt panted. "Getting close—"
The slap of skin grew louder, wetter. Jenny's stomach twisted, realizing her own traitorous body had started slicking the way. Mike's fingers found her clit, rubbing rough circles that made her hips jerk despite herself.
She could feel the moment Matt's rhythm faltered, his thrusts turning erratic against her. His grip on her tightened. "Fuck—gonna—"
Inside. He was going to come inside her. The realization jolted through her like ice water.
No condom. No birth control.
She tried to hide her face into the wall as his hips stuttered against hers, her stomach swooping with something like dread.
Jenny’s breath faltered, her voice trembling as she pressed her forehead against the cold tile. “Please… pull out. I’m not on birth control. Please, Matt, don’t—” Her words broke off into a gasp as he thrust deeper, his cock stretching her in a way that made her stomach churn.
Matt laughed, low and dark, his hands tightening on her hips. “You think that’s gonna stop me? Fuck, that just makes it better.” His voice was thick, guttural, and Jenny felt the head of his cock swell inside her, the sensation sending a jolt of panic through her chest.
She tried to push back against him, her hands slipping on the slick tiles, but he held her in place, his grip unyielding. “No, no, please—” Her voice cracked, desperation clawing at her throat as she felt him bury himself deeper, his hips slamming against hers with a force that made her knees buckle.
Matt grunted, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned over her, his thrusts growing more erratic. “You’re gonna take it, Ms. Hinds. All of it.” His voice was a growl, the words sending a shiver down her spine. She could feel him pulsing inside her, the heat of him spreading as he pushed deeper, his cock twitching with every thrust.
Jenny’s nails dug into the wall, her body trembling as she tried to hold herself up. The burn between her thighs was unbearable, the stretch of him too much, but he didn’t stop. He laughed again, the sound harsh and mocking, as he buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing inside her.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips jerking forward one last time. Jenny felt it—the moment he came, the hot rush of him filling her, the sensation making her stomach twist. She choked back a sob, her body going rigid as he held her there, his cock still buried deep inside her.
Jenny’s body jerked as Matt pulled out of her, his cock sliding free with a slick, wet sound. She gasped, her knees trembling as she felt the sudden emptiness between her legs. Her thighs were sticky, and she could already feel the hot trickle of his cum sliding down her skin, pooling on the floor beneath her. The sensation made her stomach churn, her breath hitching as she pressed her forehead against the cold tile wall. She didn’t move, couldn’t move, her body still reeling from what had just happened.
Before she could even think, before she could try to pull herself together, she felt Mike behind her. His hands gripped her hips, the touch rougher, more demanding than Matt’s had been. Jenny’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the blunt pressure of him pressing against her. She tensed, her nails digging into the wall, but there was no stopping him.
Mike pushed into her in one sharp thrust, his cock stretching her already tender flesh. Jenny’s eyes squeezed shut, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as he filled her, the burn more intense this time. Her body was still slick from Matt, and she could feel the remnants of his cum mixing with her own wetness as Mike began to move.
His thrusts were harder, deeper, each one forcing a low whimper from her throat. Jenny’s legs shook, her hands sliding against the tiles as she tried to keep herself upright. The pain was everywhere—her thighs, her hips, the raw ache between her legs—but Mike didn’t stop. He pounded into her with a relentless rhythm, his breath hot and heavy against her neck.
She could feel the cum leaking out of her with every thrust, the sensation making her stomach twist. Mike’s hands tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he pushed deeper, forcing her open. Jenny’s body was betraying her again, the slickness between her legs easing the friction, making it worse, making it unbearable. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the weight of him pressing her into the wall as he filled her completely.
Mike’s thrusts grew rougher, more urgent, his hips slamming into hers with a force that made the wall shake. Jenny’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body betraying her as a heat began to build deep in her core. She knew what was about to happen—hated the way her body responded, hated the way it seemed to take over, ignoring the disgust and shame that clawed at her mind. Her nails scraped against the tiles, her head pressing into the wall as she tried to fight it, tried to push it down, but it was no use.
Her thighs trembled, her muscles tightening as the pressure built, the sensation coiling tighter and tighter inside her. Jenny’s eyes squeezed shut, a low moan escaping her lips despite herself. She couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold it back as the heat surged through her, sharp and undeniable. Her pussy clenched around Mike, her inner walls spasming as the wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her breathless and shaking.
Mike groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as he felt her body convulse around him. “Fuck, you’re gripping my dick,” he panted, his thrusts growing even more frantic, more desperate. He pounded into her with a new intensity, driven by her involuntary response, his cock driving deeper with every push. Jenny’s legs wobbled, her knees threatening to give out as he fucked her through her orgasm, the sensations overwhelming, too much.
She could feel him pulsing inside her, his rhythm faltering as he got closer. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his hips jerking forward with a final, brutal thrust as he buried himself to the base. Jenny felt it spurt inside her—the sudden rush of heat as he came, the thick, sticky sensation spreading inside her. She shuddered, her body still trembling from the aftermath as Mike held her there, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep into her.
Jenny slid down the wall, her legs giving out as she hit the cold tile floor. The chill seeped into her skin, but she barely registered it. Her thighs were sticky, her body trembling as she sat there, legs splayed open. She didn’t bother to close them. What was the point? They’d already seen everything, taken everything. The cum pooled beneath her, a wet, glistening mess that made her stomach turn. She could feel it sliding out of her, the warmth of it a cruel reminder of what had just happened.
Her chest heaved, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stared at the floor. Her body felt… good. The thought made her want to scream. The orgasm had been sharp, intense, and it left her skin tingling, her nerves still buzzing. But it wasn’t supposed to feel good. Not like this. Not with them. She felt dirty, used, and yet her body betrayed her, the lingering pleasure mixing with the shame until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Tears welled in her eyes, hot and stinging, as the weight of it all crashed down on her. She pressed her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking as the sobs tore through her. The sound was raw, guttural, and it echoed in the small bathroom, bouncing off the tiles. She hated herself for it—for the way her body had responded, for the way she couldn’t stop crying, for the way she felt so utterly broken.
Her legs were still open, her pussy exposed, the cum dripping down her thighs. She didn’t have the strength to close them, to cover herself. What was the use? They’d already taken what they wanted. She was just… there. A mess on the floor, her body still humming with the aftermath of something she hadn’t asked for, hadn’t wanted. But it had felt good. And that was the worst part.
Jenny sat on the floor, her legs splayed, her body trembling. The cold tile bit into her skin, but she couldn’t move. The sticky mess between her thighs felt like a brand. She stared blankly at the wall, her vision blurry with tears, her breath hitching in her throat. The sound of the boys’ laughter cut through the haze, sharp and cruel.
“Look at her,” Matt sneered, his phone already out, the camera pointed straight at her. Jenny flinched, her hands twitching as if to cover herself, but she couldn’t find the strength. The flash blinded her, the click of the shutter echoing in the small room.
“This is gold,” Mike said, his voice dripping with malice. He leaned down, snapping another photo, zooming in on her face, her tears, the bruises already forming on her hips. “You’re such a fucking mess, Ms. Hinds.”
Jenny’s breath hitched, her chest tightening. She wanted to scream, to lunge at him, to rip the phone from his hands, but her body wouldn’t obey. She just sat there, her hands trembling, her nails digging into the tile floor.
Mike straightened, tucking his phone into his pocket as he started to dress. “You say anything, these pictures go everywhere. School, your family, your friends… you’ll be done.” His grin widened, a cruel, mocking thing that made Jenny’s stomach churn. “So keep your mouth shut, got it?”
Matt laughed, the sound harsh and grating as he zipped up his pants. “Yeah, we’ll be back for more. You’re too good to let go.”
They turned, their laughter trailing behind them as they left the bathroom, the door slamming shut with a finality that made Jenny flinch. She leaned more against the wall, her chest heaving, her body still trembling. The tears came harder now, silent and choking, her hands clutching at her chest as if she could somehow hold herself together.
Jenny’s body trembled as she sat on the cold tile floor, her legs still splayed, the sticky mess between her thighs a cruel reminder of what had just happened. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she stared blankly at the wall. The tears had stopped, but the emptiness inside her felt heavier than ever. She slide her gaze to Tiffany, forgetting she was there, the girl’s presence blending into the haze of her thoughts.
“Ms. Hinds?” Tiffany’s voice was soft, hesitant, cutting through the silence like a whisper. Jenny flinched, her head turning slowly to see the girl standing a few feet away, her small frame silhouetted by the harsh fluorescent light. Tiffany’s eyes were wide, her face pale, and her hands clutched the straps of her backpack like a lifeline.
Jenny’s throat tightened, her voice coming out hoarse and broken. “Tiffany… I'm sorry…..”
The girl didn’t answer right away. She took a step closer, her sneakers squeaking against the wet floor. “I… I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.” Her voice wavered, and she looked down at her feet, her shoulders hunched. Jenny could see Tiffany glance at her body.
Jenny’s chest ached, the weight of the girl’s words pressing down on her. She wanted to say something, to tell her it was okay, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she just sat there, her hands trembling in her lap.
Tiffany hesitated for a moment before slowly walking over to her. She knelt down, her knees brushing against the cold tile, and sat next to Jenny, her small frame barely taking up any space. “Are you… are you okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jenny’s breath hitched, her eyes filling with tears again. She shook her head, her hands clutching at her chest as if she could somehow hold herself together. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “No, I’m not okay.”
Tiffany didn’t say anything. She just sat there, her shoulder brushing against Jenny’s, her presence a small comfort in the overwhelming silence.
Tiffany’s hand brushed Jenny’s arm, tentative and soft. “Let’s get you up,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom lights. Jenny hesitated, her body still heavy with the weight of what had happened, but she let Tiffany guide her to her feet. Her legs wobbled, but the girl’s grip was firm, steadying her as she stood.
Tiffany’s eyes flicked down, her cheeks flushing as she reached for a wad of paper towels from the dispenser. She knelt in front of Jenny, her hands trembling slightly as she began to clean the sticky mess between her thighs. Jenny’s breath hitched, her fingers gripping the edge of the sink for support. She didn’t look down, didn’t want to see the evidence of what had been done to her, but she could feel the gentle pressure of Tiffany’s touch, the damp towels wiping away the remnants of violence.
The girl’s movements were slow, almost reverent, her attention focused entirely on Jenny’s body. She didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound, but her hands were careful, thorough. Jenny closed her eyes, her jaw tightening as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill again. The intimacy of it—the way Tiffany’s fingers brushed against her most vulnerable place—made her chest ache, but she didn’t stop her. She couldn’t.
When Tiffany finally stood, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes downcast. She tossed the soiled paper towels into the trash and turned back to Jenny. “Your clothes,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jenny nodded, her hands trembling as she reached for her discarded clothes. She pulled on her underwear, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to her still-damp skin, then her skirt and blouse. Her hands fumbled with the buttons, her fingers numb and clumsy, but she managed to dress herself, her movements slow and deliberate.
Once she was dressed, she turned to Tiffany, her voice low and hoarse. “You can’t tell anyone.” The words came out sharper than she intended, but the fear in her voice was unmistakable. “Promise me. No one can know.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened, her hands clutching the straps of her backpack. She nodded quickly, her voice barely audible. “I won’t. I promise.”
Jenny’s hands shook as she gathered her belongings from her classroom, shoving papers and books into her bag with little care for organization. Her movements were quick, frantic, as if staying in the room a moment longer would make the walls close in on her. Tiffany lingered by the door, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her eyes darting nervously toward Jenny.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Tiffany’s voice was soft, hesitant, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
Jenny forced a nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m fine. Just… go home, Tiffany. Be safe.” Her voice was clipped, the words coming out sharper than she intended. She didn’t look at the girl, couldn’t bear to see the concern in her eyes.
Tiffany hesitated for a moment, her mouth opening as if to say something more, but she thought better of it. She gave a small nod and slipped out the door, leaving Jenny alone in the empty classroom. The silence was deafening, the weight of the day pressing down on her chest. She slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried out, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor as she made her way to the parking lot.
The drive home was a blur. Jenny’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. She didn’t think, didn’t let herself feel. She just drove, her mind a blank slate, until she pulled into her driveway. The house was dark, quiet, and she fumbled with her keys as she unlocked the door, her hands trembling.
She dropped her bag by the door and headed straight for the bathroom, her movements mechanical. The shower hissed to life, steam quickly filling the small room. Jenny stripped off her clothes, her skin crawling as she stepped under the scalding water. She scrubbed at her body with a loofah, the rough texture biting into her skin as she tried to wash away the memory of their hands, their bodies. Her fingers moved between her legs, her breath hitching as she tried to clean out the remnants of what they’d left inside her. The water ran pink, then clear, but she didn’t stop, her hands moving frantically until her skin was raw.
When she finally stepped out of the shower, her body was red and trembling. She wrapped herself in a towel and stumbled to her bedroom, her legs barely holding her up. She collapsed onto the bed, the sheets cool against her skin, and pulled the blanket over her head. The darkness was a relief, a small escape from the weight of the day. She closed her eyes, her breath shallow, and willed herself to forget.
Jenny woke to the dull ache that had settled deep in her body. Her limbs felt heavy, her muscles protesting as she shifted under the blanket. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room. She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, her mind empty, her chest tight. The sound of her alarm clock buzzing on the nightstand jolted her out of her thoughts. She reached over and silenced it, her hand trembling slightly.
Saturday. No school. No students. Just her and the silence of her house. She forced herself to sit up, wincing as the soreness in her hips and thighs flared. Her body felt… wrong. Foreign. Like it didn’t belong to her anymore. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet brushing against the cool hardwood floor.
The house needed cleaning. She had let it go too long, and the mess in the living room, the dishes in the sink, the dust on the shelves—it all felt like it was suffocating her. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t let herself think. Maybe if she kept busy, the memories would stay buried.
Jenny pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, the fabric brushing against her skin and sending shivers down her spine. She grabbed the broom from the closet and started in the living room, sweeping the floor with sharp, deliberate motions. The bristles scraped against the wood, the sound grating in the quiet house. Her back ached with every movement, the soreness in her body a constant reminder, but she didn’t stop. She swept until the floor was spotless, then moved on to dusting the shelves, her hands moving mechanically, her mind numb.
The dishes came next. She filled the sink with hot water, the steam rising and fogging the window above it. Her hands dipped into the water, the heat stinging her skin as she scrubbed at a plate. The soap suds clung to her fingers, the scent of lemon sharp and clean. She worked methodically, her movements slow and deliberate, her mind empty.
When the kitchen was done, she moved to the bathroom, the bleach fumes burning her nose as she scrubbed the tiles. Her hands were raw, her skin flushed, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The physical pain was a distraction, a way to silence the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.
By the time she was done, the house was spotless, every surface gleaming, every corner free of dust. She stood in the middle of the living room, her chest heaving, her body trembling. The ache in her muscles was sharp now, a constant reminder of what she’d put herself through. But it was better than the alternative. Better than letting herself feel.
Jenny froze at the sound of the doorbell, her heart slamming against her ribs. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Her hands trembled as she wiped them on her sweatpants, her throat dry. The house was too quiet, the silence pressing in on her as she walked to the door. She hesitated, her fingers curling around the doorknob, before she pulled it open.
Matt stood on the porch, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Jenny’s breath caught, a strange warmth pooling low in her belly, a tingling wetness between her legs that she hadn’t expected. She hated herself for it, but her body betrayed her, reacting in a way she couldn’t control.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her throat tight.
He shrugged, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again. “Just wanted to check on you,” he said, his tone casual, almost mocking. “You didn’t look so good yesterday.”
Jenny’s face flushed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She should slam the door in his face, should scream at him to get off her property. But she didn’t. Instead, she stepped aside, her body moving on autopilot. “Come in,” she said, her voice hollow.
Matt smirked as he stepped past her, his presence filling the small entryway. She closed the door behind him, her heart pounding in her chest. She led him down the hallway, her legs unsteady, the wetness between her thighs impossible to ignore. She stopped outside her bedroom door, her hand resting on the knob, her breath shallow.
Matt’s smirk widened as he reached past her, turning the knob and pushing the door open. “After you,” he said, his voice low and taunting. Jenny stepped inside, her body trembling, the air thick with tension as he followed her in.