Emma brushed a crimson strand of hair from her face, staring into her own emerald eyes as they gleamed in the bathroom mirror. She’d never needed to psyche herself up before a discussion section before, but then again, she’d never lead one quite like Feminist Literature 236. All day, the anxious TA had been watching the clock tick by, dread and excitement coiling in her stomach, her mind singularly focused on the battle to come, her lips silently mouthing the same affirmations she now repeated to the reflected redhead.

“I am a strong, intelligent, independent woman.”

“I am a hard worker. I am a good teacher.”

“I deserve my position. I deserve to run this section.”

“It’s my section, not his.”

“I am his instructor. He is not mine.”

“I make the rules. I lead the discussion. No matter what he says.”

“No matter what he says.”

She let out a shuddering breath, willing herself to believe that it was true. That the person staring back at her was a serious academic; a grad student with great promise; a young upstart who could talk circles around colleagues twice her age. She was not out of her depth. She was not losing control. She was not blushing at the thought of seeing him again.

She paused, withdrawing a tube of red lipstick from her purse for a quick touch-up. A fresh glossy coat, a quick pucker for good measure. There. Perfect. No way he’d be able to call her appearance “low-effort” now. A tingle of excitement raced down her back as she imagined his reaction, his black eyes surveying her from head to toe, searching for something, anything to critique, only to come up short. Maybe for once, it would be his turn to struggle for words. Maybe this time, she would finally be victorious.

Buoyed by such hopes, Emma gave her makeup and blouse one last look over before exiting out into the hall, high heels clacking loudly beneath her tight pencil skirt. Students crowded on either side of the narrow corridor, most looking like they’d just rolled out of bed, their hair in tangles and pajama pants sagging from their waists. The dolled-up TA frowned, unable to hide her disappointment. Some slovenliness from the boys was to be expected, but for her fellow coeds to take so little pride in their appearances, wasting their fleeting years of youthful beauty in oversized hoodies and unflattering sweats…it was almost enough to make her want to stop and deliver an impromptu lecture on the spot. But she resisted the impulse, setting her tongue tightly behind her teeth. There was no time to adequately express her disapproval—and anyway, she wouldn’t be able to articulate it as well as he did. For as much as she loathed to admit it, it was he who’d managed to convince her about the importance of aesthetics. Especially for women.

Fortunately, it was a lesson that her particular section had taken to heart. As Emma opened the classroom door, she was pleased to see everyone appropriately dressed for that day’s discussion. Shiori’s lingerie was the perfect fit for her small stature and petite curves, the baby blue lace looking divine against her slightly tan complexion. Beside her, Farah reclined in the glittery folds of a harem dancer outfit, her sizable bust stretching the sheer, lavender fabric until Emma swore she could see a glimpse of brown nipple beneath. Alisha, meanwhile, had taken a more modern, bondage-inspired approach, her smooth, ebony skin lined by crisscrossing straps of tight black satin, evoking a full-body harness more than women’s nightwear. Even Betty, the least fashionable of the quartet, had put in the effort, the cutesy floral prints of her bra and panties complimenting the tinge of pink warming her pale flesh, her chubby thighs squished into a pair of tight white stockings topped with rosé ribbons.

The sound of Emma’s entrance caused the four gorgeous girls to perk up, their excited eyes swiveling towards the door, only to dull with disappointment. Their instructor forced a smile, trying not to take it personally. She knew who they’d expected to see. Who they’d hoped to see. Mercifully, it seemed he was running late today, giving Emma time to start off class on the right foot.

“Good afternoon everyone,” she said, casually unbuttoning her blouse as she took her position at the front of the class. Scattered greetings echoed in reply, some of the students’ earlier interest returning as Emma flung her top free and shimmied out of her skirt, revealing the skimpy red three-piece she’d been hiding all morning. Her pupils probably hadn’t expected a studious busybody like her to own such an exotic outfit, much less display it proudly in front of them. Admittedly, it was a holdover from her undergrad days, back before the post-grad-plumpening softened her belly and swelled up her curves, leaving ample softness for the elastic bindings to squeeze, her tightly constrained breasts on the brink of spilling free at any moment. Still, she chose to believe this only enhanced the set’s appeal, every shift of her hips now charged with sensual suspense, teasing onlookers with the prospect of her skimpy attire snapping apart.

If the intrigued gazes of her class were any indication, it seemed her suspicions were correct. She suppressed a warm sigh of relief, her exposed skin basking in the attention. There was a time, not too long ago, when the idea of displaying herself like this would’ve mortified Emma. Back then, even wearing this outfit for her boyfriend would’ve been almost too embarrassing to bear. Now here she was, strutting and jiggling in the middle of her discussion section, making an open mockery of the university’s code of conduct, her career and reputation at risk every second she remained exposed.

Was that…weird?

The question dropped like a stone into the placid waters of Emma’s mind, scattering her thoughts in strange, disorienting ripples. She tottered away from the whiteboard, suddenly too dizzy to finish writing the discussion topics, catching herself on a nearby desk before she toppled over entirely. Fortunately, it seemed her students hadn’t noticed—they’d returned to preening and chatting over their desks, admiring each other’s outfits and making small adjustments to their hair and makeup. The sight should’ve been a relief, but somehow, the vague dissonance in Emma’s head only increased in volume. It was a distorted echo of déjà vu, a shadowy sensation of unfamiliar familiarity, telling her that something wasn’t quite right.

But what could it possibly be? It was normal for girls to dress and act this way, wasn’t it? Sure, they hadn’t always been so bouncy and bubbly—in fact they’d once been a pretty staid and serious bunch, capable of facilitating an entire discussion section without a single giggle or glimpse of bare skin. Of course, that was before they’d realized how oppressive modern standards of propriety were; before they’d learned how to embrace the joys of their inherent femininity; before he’d helped them understand.

Yes, that was right. Emma remembered the debate in vivid, overwhelming detail. He’d made it all seem so clear, so true, so right, smothering all her concerns beneath his confident, captivating voice. Now, his words were once again reverberating in her brain, dispelling her discomfort and unwinding her objections, restoring her perspective to its proper alignment.

As back then, she had choice but to concede that there was nothing wrong with the way either she or her students presented. It was perfectly natural, to want to show off, just as it was perfectly natural to enjoy beauty wherever it occurred. And what could be more inherently beautiful than the female form? Was it not a common source of fascination across cultures? Across history? Did it not provoke interest and admiration from men and women alike, regardless of gender or sexual preference? Why should such a source of universal pleasure be shunned? Didn’t it make more sense to simply accept and enjoy its undeniable appeal? To allow her gaze to linger on the supple skin and alluring attire of her students? To simply enjoy being poised and pretty and sexy together, exchanging knowing looks and flirtatious smiles, whispers of gossip fading into a strange, smoldering silence, lips parting and cheeks coloring as…

Suddenly, the door to the classroom clicked open, breaking whatever spell had fallen upon them. Emma jolted upright, breath catching as she turned towards the entrance. It was not, as she’d feared, a colleague or custodial staff stumbling into her class. But that didn’t mean the man she saw brought any relief.

It was him. The only male member of their section. The source of all her anxiety and anticipation; the student whose presence she dreaded and desired the most.

Tanner Collins had arrived.

“Morning girls,” he greeted, his blunt features stretching into a wolfish grin.

“Good morning, Tanner!” his classmates replied in sing-song unison, breaking into titters as he swaggered by.

“Good m—” Emma shook her head, forcing a scowl onto her features. “You’re late, Tanner.”

“My bad, teach,” he apologized with a smirk, squeezing his considerable bulk into an empty chair as the girls hurriedly adjusted their formation around him. “I was so excited to see you today, I could barely sleep last night. Guess I musta passed out at some point and lost track of time. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“N—” Emma bit her tongue, desperate to hold onto her fury as it flagged beneath her fluttering stomach. How Tanner always managed to charm her, she would never know. He was the exact antithesis of what she looked for in a man, a spoiled, sexist legacy admission who’d probably never worked a day in his life. His sneering face was blocky and brutish, his black eyes constantly leering from beneath messy bangs of unkempt hair, his giant, girthy body always draped in baggy hoodies and sweats, each item likely costing more than all his classmates’ lingerie combined. And yet, for all his faults, Emma couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy as he guided Shiori onto his massive lap, the petite girl acquiescing with an excited giggle.

“I-It doesn’t matter how I feel,” the flustered TA pressed forward. “This class has rules for a reason. You can’t skip ten minutes of our discussion and expect to receive full credit.”

A thick brow arched. “Why not? Doesn’t look like I missed much.” He nodded towards the whiteboard.

Emma opened her mouth to argue, only to freeze as she followed his gaze. Shit. The discussion topics were only half-written. How had she missed that? She’d been in the middle of transcribing them when…there’d been that strange, dizzy feeling and…wait…had she really just spent the last eight minutes standing here, staring open-mouthed at her scantily clad students, fantasizing about…

The blushing redhead blocked the thought, but couldn’t stop the hot humiliation prickling up her skin. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d intended to start this section right, to take advantage of Tanner’s tardiness and actually discuss some goddamn feminist literature for once. Instead, his late arrival only made her look more like a hopeless ditz than ever. She couldn’t let this continue—she had to reassert control.

“Actually, we were waiting for you,” she quickly lied. “It seemed necessary, given how abysmal your coursework has been.”

Far from stinging him, this comment only made her opponent smile. “Aw thanks, teach,” he replied. “Nice to know you’re always thinking of me.”

“That’s not…” Emma grit her teeth, another burning wave of embarrassment flushing through her.

Tanner laughed. “Relax, I’m just playin’. You know I can’t help teasing you. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mad.”

Again, Emma’s heart skipped a beat, breath catching and depriving her anger of the oxygen it needed. She swallowed, turning her attention to the papers on her desk. “L-Let’s just move onto our discussion questions,” she muttered. “Now, as Professor Wesley noted, The Autobiography of Anna B. Toklas is not actually an autobiography at all, but rather a memoir written by her partner, Gertrude Stein. Do any of you have any theories as to why she chose to frame her story this way?”

Silence fell over the assembled students. Shiori twirled a lock of black hair around her finger. Betty and Alisha shared an awkward glance. Farah continued filing her nails.

“What do you suppose were her objectives?” their instructor pressed. “Anyone?”

A meaty hand rose into the air. Cold fear gripped Emma’s throat.

“Yes, Tanner?” she croaked.

“Gotta confession, teach.” He grinned. “I, uh, actually didn’t do any of the reading. Pretty sure none of the girls did either.”

“What?” Emma blanched, shooting a shocked glance across her class. “None of you? Really?”

Tanner laughed. “Don’t blame them teach. It wasn’t their fault—they were busy.”

“Busy?” she repeated, the pit in her stomach growing heavier. “Doing what?”

She regretted the question the moment it left her lips. Tanner’s cruel smile widened, an amused look passing between him and the other girls, cuing a chorus of giggles. “Whaddaya think? They were keepin’ me company, of course.”

Emma gawked as if he’d just slapped her. “What?”

“Yeaaaaaahhh, sorry ‘bout that.” Tanner smoothed a massive palm up Shiori’s leg, drawing a soft sigh from her lips as he delicately stroked her thigh. “We got together for a little study group, and I guess we got a little off-track. It’s my fault, really. I mean, how were they supposed to concentrate on some stupid book when they had a nice, hard cock to play with?”

The scandalized TA’s ears glowed pink. “T-Tanner!” she exclaimed. “That isn’t…you can’t…” Her lips moved uselessly, no longer able to form words. Her nemesis had always been boorish, but this was clearly crossing a line. Throwing her gaze around the room, Emma searched for some sign of agreement among her students, some confirmation that they’d all heard what she had, and were just as offended as she was.

Instead, what she found were the subtle smirks of a shared, scintillating secret. Only Betty showed any signs of embarrassment, though it seemed even she couldn’t resist a smile.

Emma took an involuntary step back, reeling with horror and disbelief. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Sure, her girls had shown decreasing interest in the course materials as of late. And yes, she had noticed their grades starting to slip. Or plummet, as it were. But that was just your typical mid-semester slump! It wasn’t because they were…they would never actually…not with him!

And yet, even as her thoughts ran in desperate circles, Emma could sense a dark, foreboding possibility at the center of their orbit. Was it really so hard to believe, the black star whispered, that these young women would forgo responsibility for pleasure? That they would find an arrogant, affluent tech heir more attractive than a deceased lesbian’s rambling anecdotes? For all his repulsive qualities, wasn’t there something…intriguing about Tanner? Didn’t Emma find it somewhat thrilling, the danger he posed? The way he constantly asserted himself over her? The ease with which he subverted her power and shook her sense of control? If she was in the same position as her students, could she really promise that she would be able to resist him? That he wouldn’t be able to coax or coerce her legs apart, convincing her to set aside her assignments and ideals to…to…

Tanner chuckled. “Don’t be upset, teach. The girls were only doing what they’re supposed to. I mean…” His hand ran up Shiori’s waist, the tiny sophomore arching into his touch as his thick fingers teased the shivering swell of her breasts. “Everyone knows that it’s a woman’s job to satisfy men.”

Emma tensed. The sexist bromide thundered in her head, crushing all confusion and conflict. In an instant, the chaos within her had stilled, a singular focus returning to her thoughts. But this was not a calm born from acceptance. It was the eye of a terrible storm.

“No.” She shook her head, gaze narrowing into an icy glare. “You did not just say that. Not here. Not to me.”

Tanner scoffed. “What? I’m just tellin’ it how it is.”

“Like hell you are,” the furious TA spat. “I know you like testing boundaries Tanner, but this time you’ve gone too far.”

A spark of real anger flashed behind his eyes, only to be replaced by cruel amusement. “Oh, I get it,” he sneered. “You’re just jealous you weren’t invited. Don’t take it personally—you’re a pretty hot piece of ass yourself, but…”

“Enough,” Emma cut him off. “If you keep spouting this misogynist drivel in my classroom, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

This at last seemed to give the belligerent giant pause. He shifted, nudging Shiori off his lap, his posture rising and smile flattening into a straight, severe line. “Misogynist drivel?” He echoed. “Look teach, you might not like what I’m sayin’, but that doesn’t make it not true.

Emma let out an incredulous laugh. “Give me a break. You don’t actually believe women are responsible for men’s gratification. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

“Actually, I’m tryin’ to teach you a valuable lesson. You just don’t wanna accept it, so you hide behind all this fancy, feminist bullshit.”

Emma’s eyelid twitched. “Big talk for someone who hasn’t read a single word of it.”

“Don’t need to. And I’ll prove it.” Tanner reached into his pocket, extracting a sleek, oversized smartphone and setting it on his desk. The entire class tensed in unison. He may as well have thrown a gauntlet onto the floor. “Shall we settle this the usual way?” he said.

You’re on, the infuriated TA almost replied. But something stopped her short. A familiar dizziness, a sense of unreality. A warning. All at once, her surroundings seemed to expand and contract, disrupting her equilibrium and nearly causing her knees to buckle. She quickly leaned back the desk, regaining her balance and disguising her confusion behind a thoughtful frown.

“Same terms as always,” Tanner continued. “Ten-minute time limit, winner decided by popular vote. Sound good, teach?”

Again, an affirmative utterance leapt to her tongue. Again, she bit it back. Some buried instinct was telling her that this was a trap. That she was in danger. That something wasn’t quite right. But what? Was it the looks of breathless excitement on all the girls’ faces? No, that was to be expected—after all, these fiery debates had always been a highlight of their discussion section. Maybe it was Tanner’s cocksure grin that was putting her off-balance? Then again, that was pretty much his default expression, and had never stopped Emma from confronting him before.

Could it be something to do with his phone? It had always looked a little off to her, being larger and blockier than the smartphones most other students used. But—no, Tanner had explained this before. The unusual device was simply a prototype unit his dad had asked him to test out. There was nothing weird about that, nor the fact that it constantly emitted a low, droning hum. That was just one of the design kinks they were hoping to work out. It’d been distracting at first, but now Emma found it vaguely comforting, her breath beginning to slow as she focused on the faint, thrumming vibrations in her ears.

“Well?” Tanner goaded. “What’s the holdup, teach? Scared you’re gonna lose again?”

Emma flashed a dismissive glare, but the question still found purchase in her heart. Was he right? Was fear of another loss causing her to hesitate? Certainly, her record in these debates wasn’t the greatest. She’d managed to eke out a couple wins early on, but it hadn’t taken long for his repeated victories to snowball into a massive lead, every triumph pushing the class further towards his way of thinking, making it harder and harder for Emma to counter him. Again and again, she’d been forced to concede, her education and eloquence failing as she accepted his arguments, her own perception of reality gradually realigning with his.

A warm pulse throbbed in Emma’s belly, harmonizing with the hazy buzzing in her head. No—she wasn’t afraid to lose. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more determined she became to accept Tanner’s challenge. It wouldn’t be right, backing down now. Clearly, he’d been using their debates increase his influence over the class, subverting her authority and positioning himself as an alternative, inverse instructor, one whose lessons discouraged scholarship in favor of female submission. If Emma didn’t reassert command over this section, who knew how far this could go? Four fierce, bright young students, reduced to simpering, simple-minded sluts, their promising futures lost in a never-ending procession of self-debasement and sexual servitude and…

“Y-You’re on,” Emma forced out, hands balling into tight fists. She could do this. She had to do this. It was just like Tanner had said during their first debate. To run away from an argument would be to concede the inferiority of her beliefs. How could she ever hope to defend her thesis or persuade others to fund her research if she couldn’t even talk down one uppity student? She may have lost that initial battle, but ironically, it’d only made her even more stubborn. Sorry boy, she thought, matching his confident smirk with her own. You should’ve never taught me to be such a sore loser.

Tanner nodded. “Sounds like we’ve got a match. I’ll start the clock.” He tapped a thick finger on his phone, eliciting an almost imperceptible beep. In the next moment, the device’s dulcet droning rose to a pulsing, pounding roar, a collective wince traveling around the room as Emma and the girls struggled with the sudden increase in pressure. It was times like these that she wished Tanner’s father had seen fit to give the rest of them the same specialized, prototype earbuds as his son, especially given how thorough their noise filter seemed to be. Alas, she couldn’t expect such a brilliant, secretive man to compromise security for some silly woman’s comfort. Instead, she waited a moment to gather her breath, allowing the rumbling phone to fade into the background of her mind, until it became nothing but an indistinct fog wafting between her thoughts.

Her gaze refocused as Tanner gestured towards her. “I’ll let you have the first word,” he said. “Since something tells me I’ll be having the last.”

Emma scoffed. Crossed her arms beneath her overflowing bra. “Honestly, I don’t know how you expect to defend your position. You say that it’s a woman’s duty to satisfy men’s sexual urges, but you offer no theoretical or practical foundation for this claim. Upon what, exactly, are you basing this assertion?”

“Well…” Her opponent leaned back, scratching his jaw. “It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

It just makes sense, doesn’t it? The phrase thudded in Emma’s mind. It was such a stupid argument. So ugly and unsophisticated. And yet…so confident. So assured. She knew it was wrong, and yet struggled to commit to an angle of attack, her thoughts scrambling between various theories and rhetorical techniques, none of which seemed quite right.

The humming in her ears throbbed.

“I-It just makes sense?” the flailing TA repeated, stalling for time.

“Well, yeah.” Tanner shrugged. “I mean look at it this way: it’s hard to think when you’re horny, right?”

Hard to think when you’re horny. Again, the argument seemed to sink into the soft tissue of Emma’s brain, its rhetorical weight undeniable, unavoidable. Worse, unlike his previous point, this one had a core of truth to it. It was hard to think when she was horny.

“It is…” she breathed, her distended thoughts struggling to cohere enough to prevent her concession.

Her opponent nodded. “Exactly. And the hornier you get, the harder it is to think. It’s like one of those vicious cycles or whatever. You know what I’m talking about, right Betty?”

“Huh?” The chubby girl blinked, a deep blush coloring her freckled face. “Y-Yeah. It’s like…so hard to…think when I’m…uh…” Her lips hung open, her voice trailing off as her gaze fell to Tanner’s lap. Emma’s eyes involuntarily followed, widening as they beheld a massive bulge in his sweats.

Horny. Tanner was horny. That was a good thing, right? It meant it would be...hard…for him to think. Horniness made it hard to think. Hard to think.

Emma was…having a hard time thinking. Was she…horny? She licked her lips, a warm, quivering breath wafting between them.

Tanner nodded. “It’s ’cause your body’s tellin’ you it wants to get knocked up. So it tries to stop you from doing anything else. It’s just nature, y’know?”

Just nature. Get knocked up.

No! Emma screwed her eyes shut, shaking her head as if she could dislodge the warm mist billowing inside it. This wasn’t right. She knew Tanner was trying to string her along with some sexist, gender-essentialist, evolutionary psychology pseudo-logic. But why was it so hard for her to cut through it? Why did it feel like she’d stumbled her way into a spider’s web, her struggles only further entangling her limbs in its taut, sticky strands?

“Th-that’s…immaterial,” she uttered, trying another tack. “Even if horniness makes it…hard to think…” Hard to think. Horny. “…That doesn’t mean it’s a women’s job to…to…you know…” She bit her lip, keeping her eyes averted from the prominent tent between her opponent’s legs.

He chuckled. “Aw c’mon, teach. Don’t you think that’s a little unfair? I mean, try seeing things from my point of view. How am supposed to take this class seriously when I’ve got all these gorgeous girls around me, getting my dick so hard I can barely stand it? Can you even imagine what that feels like?

She could. Even as she tried not to. The heat. The desire. It pulsed and flexed inside her, as if it’d been her own hopeless arousal he’d just described. Avoiding his gaze, her attention drifted to her other students, now a quartet of panting, whimpering sluts, their stiff nipples straining against the fabric of their outfits, their eyes heavy and half-lidded with lust, all staring directly at Tanner’s crotch, guiding Emma’s attention back down, down, where…

Sproing. With a single shift of his waistband, Tanner’s massive cock sprung into view.

A chorus of gasps rippled around the room. Emma opened her mouth to object, only to close it as a stream of saliva threatened to spill free.

“Look at this,” Tanner commanded, fingers absently skimming his taut, towering erection. “Can’t you see what you do to me? Do you have any idea how hard I am right now? Here, come feel.”

Feel. The entranced TA took an involuntary step forward. She shouldn’t. There was no reason to. It wasn’t like she didn’t believe him. Of course he was hard. It was as clear as the veins bulging along his impossibly thick shaft; as obvious as the swollen, searing red of his tip; as undeniable as the pungent scent of his musk, filling Emma’s nostrils as she drew closer and closer and…

Her hand gently wrapped around his cock, struggling to grasp the entirety of its girth.

Wait. What was she doing? Why was she…?

“There we go,” Tanner exhaled. “Doesn’t it all make sense now?”

“Uh?” Emma gaped dumbly. It was hard to understand the question. It was hard to understand anything right now. Every time her opponent’s member twitched, it was like thunder reverberating through her, obliterating any hope of cogent expression.

“I mean, can you imagine trying to focus on a fucking book with this thing between your legs? No wonder I can never get any work done. This is why you all gotta take responsibility. It’s your job to make it right.”

“B-but…” Emma’s eyelashes fluttered. She knew this was wrong. That she was slowly losing control. But try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from gingerly massaging the stiff, burning flesh, her insides clenching with every hot, needy throb.

“But what?” His voice dripped condescension. “Don’t tell me you’re already out of arguments?”

“Nn…” Emma forced her eyes shut, head spinning as she searched for something, anything to say. “B-but shouldn’t it go both ways?”

Tanner’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Fuck. It was so hard to think. So hard to do anything but stroke and sigh. “I mean…if it’s my job to help when I make you horny…then shouldn’t it be your job to…”

“Oh?” The giant interrupted, black eyes glittering. “Are you saying I make you horny?”

Emma blinked. Shit. He was right. Even as she thought she’d found away out of his trap, he’d somehow cornered her once again. The realization sent a fresh wave of wet, aching desire through her. “I g-guess…” she mumbled.

“And now you want me to satisfy you?” Tanner continued. “Is that it?”

“I…I…” The overheating TA was speechless. What he was saying sounded right but…was it? What did she even want anymore? How had she gone from trying to reassert authority over the class to asking her male student to help get her off?

The phone continued to thrum. The roiling fog continued to bloom. It felt like her brain was being microwaved.

Tanner sighed. “For the sake of argument, teach, I’ll play your game.”

“Huh? You’ll…eep!” Emma squeaked, her entire body rigid as her student’s fingers pressed between her legs.

“Relax, teach,” he chuckled, his powerful digits circling the sopping fabric. “I’m just doin’ what you asked.”

“B-but…nnghh…” The yearning inside her contracted, choking off her protests. She was so horny. So fucking horny she could no longer think, much less stop herself from grinding against Tanner’s slow, sensual strokes. Desperate for help, she looked to her fellow coeds, silently begging them to intervene. But all she saw was a sea of slutty stares, each girl too busy pumping their fingers between their own gushing folds, discarded lingerie lining the floor as they ravaged their own bodies to the sight of their teacher’s torment.

“That’s right,” Tanner purred. “Just enjoy it, teach. Go ahead and cum for me.”

She didn’t want to. Not for him. But it wasn’t her choice anymore. As her clit pulsed beneath his thumb, the mounting tension within her finally snapped, a broken cry escaping her lips as her resistance crumbled, unleashing a torrent of twisted pleasure through her captive, convulsing body.

It was too much. Her hand slid from Tanner’s cock, her molten muscles giving out as she crumpled to her knees, hips still twitching with the aftershocks of her surrender.

Her tormentor gave his glistening fingers a cursory sniff, then held them out towards Farah’s open mouth. She gratefully accepted the soaking digits, diligently sucking them clean.

“There, see?” Tanner sighed. “I tried to give you what you wanted. But you’re still not satisfied are you?”

She wasn’t. That burst of bliss hadn’t extinguished the fire inside her; if anything, it had only fanned the flames higher. She needed more. Desperately. Deliriously.

Tanner smiled, his enormous hand toying with her tangled, crimson locks. “See, that’s the thing about female orgasms. They ain’t worth shit. They’re totally useless.”

Useless? The word struck Emma strangely, rattling the remaining shards of her defiance. “That’s…that’s not…” she tried to finish the thought, only for her mind to go blank as his cock suddenly swung in front of her face, the bright, bulging head filling her vision, her world.

“It’s true,” Tanner insisted. “It’s not like cumming helps you make babies or anything. And it doesn’t make you less horny either. I mean, you just came on my hand, but I bet you’re not done are you? I bet you really wanna suck my cock now like the horny little slut you are. Isn’t that right?”

It was. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She really did want to suck his cock like a horny little…

Wait…no…she wasn’t…

“Well, go ahead,” Tanner commanded, nudging the back of her head. She shifted forward without resistance, lips opening wide, barely able to fit around the swollen tip as it pushed inside her, her tongue lapping its underside as it plunged down into her throat.

Her eyes rolled back. A chocked gurgle escaped her as her mind went blank, overcome with the sensations filling her faint, flushed head. His heat, his taste, his scent…it was impossible to resist them as they reached deep into her core, seizing upon instincts she didn’t even know she had, yanking the sparking wires as her thoughts popped and fizzled, until all she could do was lick and suck and moan.

“That’s a good girl,” the wielder of this magnificent cock groaned. “Doesn’t this feel right? Like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Feels right. Where I’m supposed to be. Tanner’s voice pushed freely into the impressionable folds of her brain, easily crushing whatever lingering qualms she held.

“See, unlike your useless orgasms, it’s a big fucking deal when a man finally cums. It’s powerful. Important. It’s how life gets made, how we clear our heads so we can keep society running, letting sluts like you shop and gossip and rub yourselves stupid all day.”

Cum. Important. Sluts. Stupid. Every time an objectionable argument caught on Emma’s fraying filter, the cock thrusting between her lips would push the offending phrase deeper, penetrating the porous barrier of her brain into the sicky depths of her subconscious.

“That’s why you should always offer your body to any man who wants it. We need to get our rocks off so we can focus on what really matters. Plus, it’s a better use of your holes than anything your tiny brains could come up with. Speaking of which…” His fist suddenly seized her hair, pulling his cock free from her lips with a wet pop. “This is supposed to be a debate, but it’s been a while since I let you talk. Got anything smart to say?”

“Huh?” Emma blinked, a string of drool stretching from her glistening lips to cockhead bobbing before her. Debate. Right. This was supposed to be a…an argument…or something. But what was it about? There was something she wanted to say, something important. “Um…I don’t…uh, think that…”

Suddenly, Tanner’s inescapable grasp yanked her head forward, plunging his rigid cock down her unprepared throat. Her neck bulged against its girth, her eyes wide and watering as her nose pressed into the dark forest of his pubic hair, thick curls suffocating her with his scent. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at his thighs, her chest tightening as she struggled for breath.

Tanner let out a cruel, barking laugh. “See, this is the other reason why you should always serve cock. You don’t really have a choice—not if we don’t want you to.”

Darkness encroached on the edges of Emma’s vision. She let out a mewling whimper, her arms going limp, pupils beginning to roll back into her head as…

Suddenly, her tormentor released her, his monstrous flesh withdrawing with a loud, wet schlork. The freed fuck-doll fell, barely stopping herself from collapsing face-first onto the floor, her burning lungs heaving for air as drool and tears streamed from her face.

Tanner chuckled. “Sorry ’bout that. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Ah, wouldja look at that.” H e reached over, consulted his phone. “Seems we’re out of time. Any final words?”

The broken woman stared up at him, struggling to comprehend. Her head felt empty and floaty, all traces of intellect or ambition gone, as if a reset button had been triggered at the back of her throat.

The giant man smiled. “Okay, time for the verdict. All who believe women should be men’s free-use fuck-toys, raise your hand.”

Four moaning, masturbating girls raised shaky hands skyward. Slowly, hesitantly, Emma followed suit, much to Tanner’s amusement.

“That settles it,” he chuckled. “From now on, making me cum is priority number one. Speaking of which…” He glanced down at his still-twitching erection. “Looks like you’ve still got a job to do, teach.”

Emma nodded numbly, working her aching jaw. Another debate, another crushing loss. Now she would have to be Tanner’s cock-sleeve for the rest of the semester. Oh well. She supposed it just made sense.

“We’ll have to work more on training your mouth,” her conqueror observed. “But for now, let’s continue class, shall we?”

“Yes,” Emma uttered, allowing him to drag her to her feet and guide her to the desk. She felt completely subdued and spent, her insides aching and limbs like jelly, unable to resist his ruthless treatment even if she’d wanted to. Not that she did; not anymore. As her captor bent her over the papers she’d spent all night preparing, ripping her panties aside and pressing his cock against the folds of her sex, a fresh spark of arousal ignited in the depths of the domesticated TA, desire curling like warm, intoxicating smoke. His palm slapped sharply against her ass, eliciting a cry of pain from her lips. But she didn’t move away—there was no point. It was just like he’d said: this was her fault for getting him so horny in the first place. Now it was her job to provide him relief. He would just take it from her either way.

The triumphant brute grinned, a tight grunt escaping him as he thrust inside his new toy. Emma let out a gasp, her inner walls embracing the massive invader, squeezing and clutching it like it was their only purpose. In a sense, she supposed it was.

Tanner let out a satisfied sigh, hips slapping loudly against her jiggling backside. “Looks like someone’s learned their lesson,” he crowed, victorious. “Now gather ’round girls. Today we’ll be discussing the best ways to use your body to serve cock and worship cum. Make sure you pay close attention—there will be a test.”

The rest of the class gathered around, their excited faces blurring as Emma’s head lolled against the desk, drool spilling freely from her slack jaw. She wasn’t sure what Tanner was saying anymore, but it didn’t matter. Her subconscious would absorb the meaning in between worthless orgasms. Maybe next time, she should just let him run the discussion section. He was a good teacher—much better than her, anyway.

And she was very eager to learn.