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No. 583
## Chapter 3 (by fallacies)
They must've drugged me at some point, because I don't clearly recall the remainder of the night. The hazy image of my mother and sister in a deep French kiss is all that comes to mind, and I'm not sure if that actually happened.
The first things I was aware of in the morning were the hard wooden floor of my bedroom and the pain running through my body -- my anus, which felt inflamed, ached whenever I moved. Sitting up was a struggle, and my clothes stank of dried semen -- probably not my own. Several buttons were missing from my shirt, and on the bared part of torso, a number of bruises were beginning to turn purple.
Making my way to the shower took more effort than I expected, but I bore through it, wanting to be clean as quickly as possible. Mom and Samantha didn't cross my half-awake mind until I stepped downstairs to find them already at breakfast, dining in silence. At first glance they seemed to be perfectly normal, as if nothing had happened the night prior. When I sat down, though, I noticed that Mom's erect nipples were clearly visible through the white blouse she was wearing. She avoided meeting my eyes, and Samantha, who was wearing a uniform from Saint Francisca's for some reason, seemed sad and full of shame.
"G- Good morning," said Mom awkwardly as I bit into my toast.
I mumbled something in reply, trying to keep the emotions in my mind in check. The anger that I felt toward Mom and Samantha -- it wasn't rational. They were my family, and they were victims of Ms. Lee, the same as me. I wasn't sure how much stock I could really put into this rationalization, though. In my heart of hearts, they'd betrayed my trust. The respect I'd had for Mom ... I don't know how much of it was left.
"I-," she began. "I ... spoke with your superior last night ..."
Conspiring with the shemales already? Aloud, I asked, "What did she say?"
"We ... we agreed that with the ... changes in Samantha's body, it would be difficult for her to return to Hammarskjold Middle School."
I suddenly remembered something that Ms. Lee had mentioned while I was still lucid -- that my sister would be transferred to St. Francisca's. They wanted to reeducate Samantha -- they wanted to turn her into one of them. I bit my lower lip. Even though I'd shredded the contents the manila envelope I received in the paper shredder under Nurse Johanson's desk, I didn't doubt that Ms. Lee or whoever else was responsible still had the original images. I couldn't oppose their agenda.
No longer having the appetite to finish breakfast, I replied, "I understand," and got up to put on my coat. Mom looked like she wanted to say something, but relented with a sad expression.
"I'll be waiting for you in the car," I said to Samantha.
//
It was ten minutes into the drive when Samantha broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"What are you sorry about?" I asked, keeping my eyes to the road. There was more bitterness in my voice than I intended, and Samantha noticed.
"F- for what I did to mom," she said. "I ... I knew it was wrong and dirty, but my body ... I had to do it. P- please ... please don't hate us for this."
Her voice was cracking slightly, as if she were on the verge of tears. I sighed, hating myself for acting so cold to her. This girl beside me -- she wasn't the sex-crazed creature that had gleefully raped my mother last night. She was my kid sister -- the girl I'd watched growing up, who I'd babysat and helped do homework. The person hurting her right now wasn't Ms. Lee -- it was me.
"Don't apologize for something that you didn't do," I said.
"But I-"
"It wasn't you," I continued, cutting her off. "It was the drugs that were making you act that way. Even if you're body's different now, Mom and Dad raised you as a girl with a strong moral code. That doesn't go away just because somebody injected you with chemicals that make you act in a way that you know is wrong. What your body did to Mom ... That wasn't your fault."
I don't know if it was enough to convince Samantha that I didn't blame her for what had happened. My words seemed to calm her down, though.
"There's something you should understand about St. Francisca's, Samantha," I said. "I don't agree with you going there. It's not a normal school ..."
"But mom said it's a school that helps girls who've changed like me?"
Help them? They sodomize boys and transform normal girls like my sister into shemales -- and they try to justify what they do as 'helping' people? Ms. Lee's photos kept me from openly opposing them, but it didn't mean that I would ever admit that she was in the right. Even if it killed me, I wouldn't allow my sister to lose what remained of her innocence and morality.
"What happened last night to you and Mom, before I came home?"
I didn't miss the look of fear that crossed her face as she remembered.
"Th- they ..." she stuttered.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I said quickly. "But I'm asking you this to make a point. What did you feel when they hurt you and mom?"
"It ... it hurt, and I was scared. I hated it."
"Ms. Lee -- that's the teacher's name -- she thinks that doing that sort of thing is okay. She did it to you and mom, and she does it to a lot of the students at St. Francisca. Worse, she teaches the girls there that acting the way she does is perfectly fine ... Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? I don't want you to be brainwashed into becoming one of those heartless bitches ..."
Samantha's expression grew conflicted.
"But," she said, "I don't think I can go back to my old school anymore ..."
"Why's that?"
Her face was filled with shame, and she didn't answer aloud. Instead, she pulled back the hem of her skirt. I almost stepped on the wrong pedal. Between Samantha's legs, bound to her right thigh with a black elastic hairband, her ebony, vein-covered cock stood rigidly at attention. A trail of cum leaked from her urethra, staining the chair cushion and the carpet below. To my disgust, I felt an emerging hardness between my own legs. I tore my gaze from her crotch and turned my attention back to driving, willing myself to keep calm for Samantha's sake.
"I ... I don't want my friends to see my like this," she said. "And Anthony ..."
Anthony was her boyfriend. As far as I know, they hadn't been sexually active. Now, they might never be. I clenched my teeth. I'd been too self-centered, going at this for my own peace of mind. Samantha was just as trapped as I was -- St. Francisca might be her only option if she wants to have a relatively normal school life without too much social stigma.
There were no right choices.
//
Ms. Lee was waiting in the office when I got there to process Samantha's transfer.
"I'll take her off your hands, John," she said to me, smiling sultrily. "Don't worry. I don't bite ... most of the time."
Chuckling as if her words were at all funny, she walked off toward the registrar. My sister nodded at me before following, smiling sadly as if to reassure me that she would be alright. I nodded back.
"Mr. Lawrence," said the secretary, a humorless young woman. "The principal asked me to inform you to report to her office when you arrive."
"Alright," I said, letting my gaze travel down the length of her body before turning down the hall. I doubt she appreciated my attentions.
It was odd. Now that I knew the secret of the school, I realized that, beyond the slight bulges they they under their skirts, there were actually a lot telltale signs that the women and girls here weren't normal. My mother and Samantha seemed not to have developed them yet, but both the secretary and Ms. Lee had obvious adam's apples, and spoke in sultry-sounding voices noticeably lower than 'normal women.' Their muscles too -- they weren't bulky like body builders, but when Ms. Lee exercised her strength, it was easy to see the cords of her muscles straining just under the skin. Was it the result of some sort of second puberty that occurs when their genitals transform?
//
"C- come in," said a distracted voice when I knocked on the principal's door.
I let myself in. I hadn't actually met the principal before, and the large, elegant office was a bit imposing. The high ceiling and the mahogany-paneled walls reminded me that the school had once been a nunnery.
The revolving chair behind the large wooden desk was facing one of the windows, and from a distance it seemed as if the principal was in the middle of a phone call. I'd expected her to be the old matronly type, but instead she was an attractive, bespectacled woman with large breasts, who looked to be in her 30's. Her expression was gentle, and I wondered if perhaps she wasn't party to this whole shemale conspiracy that Ms. Lee was involved in.
As I got nearer, I realized that something was off ... the principal let out a feminine moan, and the chair swiveled slightly. There was a small, long-haired child -- a boy? a girl? -- sitting on the ground between her legs. Her hands clutched the child's head, forcing her meaty cock in and out of his (her?) mouth. With one loud moan, she forced her entire length down the child's throat, and then smiled in orgasmic pleasure.
Extracting the huge cock from the child's mouth left her (him?) in a coughing fit, and he (she?) collapsed to the floor, choking out bits of semen. Uncaring of the child's state, the principal pulled her miniskirt down to cover her still-hard, dripping organ and turned to me.
"So," she said, "Mister John Lawrence, was it?"
"Yes," I said, trying to school my expression.
"My name is Josephine Stadtler, and I'm the principal of this school," she said, casually folding her hands before her face. "I'd like to welcome you to our staff."
She sounded pleasant enough. If I hadn't seen her sexually abusing a small child not moments before, I might have said she was the very picture of a responsible educator. Instead, I was almost certain that I was talking to some living incarnation of the devil -- probably the author of the ordeal I've gone through these past twenty-four hours. There was an indentation in the skin around her ring finger, I noticed, but no ring. Was she divorced?
"Thank you," I said sullenly, fixing her face with a steely gaze.
"Right now, you must think terribly of us for obtaining your cooperation through coercion," she said, getting up and approaching me from around the desk. "You'll find though," she said, touching my chin, "that we aren't so heartless as to deny your freedoms or hold you here against your will without compensation."
"The only thing I want," I said holding myself motionless as she embraced me from behind, "is for my mother and sister to be safe and happy."
A hardness pressed against the back of my leg as she grasped my crotch. The softness of her H-cups pressed against my arm, and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.
"We won't harm them," she said, stroking my growing erection through my pants. "I can promise you that right now. Though, uh, how did you put it to your sister again? 'I don't want you to be brainwashed into becoming one of those heartless bitches!' I assure you, we aren't going to 'brainwash' them. I can't promise that they won't 'join us' of their own free will, though."
How did she know I said that? My car, I realized -- they must've bugged it last night. I pulled myself away from her and glared. She smiled at me calmly.
"As I said," she continued, "we'll provide you with a handsome compensation should you remain here for a full year. I promise also that we'll destroy any materials we collect on you that could result in public humiliation for you or your family. "
"And in exchange, I serve as a bitch for all of the shemales in this school for a whole year? Why should I believe you?"
A small frown crossed her face.
"Shemale is a derogatory term, you know?" she said. "But to answer your question, now that Judith's properly broken you in, no student is allowed to engage you in a sexual act without your explicit consent. Generally, we won't interfere with your freedom."
Her wording was very specific: 'no "student" is allowed.' She gave no mention of teachers. I narrowed my eyes.
"Does that mean that any teacher can order me to have sex, then?"
A devious light entered her eyes.
"Clever boy," she said, smiling.
Bending down, she lifted the prone body child she'd been pleasuring herself with into the air with one arm, causing the sleeve of her tight business dress to bulge.
"Take Joey here, for example," she said. "I could order you to fuck him in the schoolyard, and you'd have to comply. If you don't ..." She trailed off and smirked at me mischievously, dropping the boy to the floor. Stepping on his crotch, she pressed down with her 9-inch heel. "Well, I won't immediately humiliate you with the photos we've taken, but I'm sure we can work something out."
She lifted her foot at sat back down behind her desk.
"In any case, I didn't call you here just to welcome you," she said, pushing her glasses upwards. "Judith doesn't have class until three in the afternoon today, and she's currently assigned to counseling duty. You're her assistant, and so I'll be having you bring Joey here back to Room B329-A in the counseling division to continue his detention."
I glared at her and helped the effeminate boy to his feet. As we exited the office, I heard her call out to me:
"Someday, John, you'll understand the necessity of what I'm doing."
Fat chance, I thought.
//
The counseling office was in basement level 3 of the secondary administration building, a lone-standing redbrick in the courtyard between the lower school building -- which housed the 6th and 7th grade classrooms -- and the upper school building -- which housed the 8th and 9th grade classrooms. For reasons that weren't fully explained to me, interactions between the two schools are usually not permitted; upper school teachers like Ms. Lee and I can apparently go through an entire month without ever meeting anyone from the other building, and even the gym programs are assigned to separate fields. It seemed a bit odd that Principal Stadtler assigned me to bring Joey to detention. According to the color of the buttons on his uniform, he was a 7th grader.
The boy, for the most part, was silent -- whether from exhaustion or trauma, I couldn't tell. It made the descent to our destination all the gloomier, and I couldn't help but wonder what genius came up with the idea of making the counselling division look like a badly maintained prison.
The entrance to Room B329-A turned out to be a heavy metal door in a dimly lit maintenance hallway. I wondered if the principal had gotten the room number wrong -- this looked more like the door to a janitor's office than a counseling room. Pushing the iron slab open, I found myself standing in a bright, spacious room lined with white bathroom tiles. At one end, next to a mirror that spanned one of the walls, there were two chairs and a bit of rope. At the other, there was a gynecologist's chair with a naked young girl secured to it. Her eyes were red -- probably from crying -- and her cheeks were tear-streaked. There was no cock between her legs -- just a bare pussy with a prominent clit.
"P- please," she sobbed. "St- stop hurting Joey!"
"You took your sweet time getting here, John," said Ms. Lee's voice from a speaker in a corner of the ceiling. "Take off the boy's shirt and tie his hands so that we can begin."
"What is this?" I asked. "This isn't counseling."
"Of course it is, John," said Ms. Lee. "We're about to help this young lady awaken her inner misandrist ..."
## Chapter 4 (by fallacies)
With the rope I had been provided, I tied the Joey's hands to one of the chairs so that his back end faced the girl. His delicate features remained downcast and sullen as I worked, shadowed by his straight, shoulder-length brunette hair.
Now that his jacket and dress shirt had been removed, his girlishness was somehow even more apparent than before. Though he was slender, he had, for the lack of a better term, 'child-bearing hips' and an obvious case of gynecomastia. There were numerous welts in his exposed skin, and a number of bruises -- probably the handiwork of the Principal, I guessed. I could see the telltale mark of a clumsily-performed needle shot on his left arm.
I expected Ms. Lee to enter in the nude, but she was wearing the same t-shirt and bulky sweatpants she'd had on earlier at the office. It was difficult to tell if she had an erection or not. Removing several items from the metal basket she was carrying, she tossed me a ball gag and said, "Put this in his mouth."
Joey's jaw had been slightly ajar, and he gave no protest as I gagged him. I tried to make eye contact -- hinting to him that I was on his side -- but it seemed almost as if he'd resigned to the abuse and couldn't be bothered to care.
"Wh- why are you doing this to us?" asked the girl, struggling against the leather straps that secured her to the gynecologist's chair. "I ... I know what we did was against school rules, but ... you d- don't need to take it out Joey like this!"
"'Us?'" quoted Ms. Lee, lighting the candle she was holding with a hand-torch. Holding it over Joey's bared back, she let a drop of melted wax hit one of his wounds. The boy spasmed and let out a pained moan through his gag.
"I think you're misunderstanding my intent, Angie," she said, casually dropping the hand-torch back into the basket. "Certainly, it's against school regulations for the two of you to be having sex, but I'm not going to hurt you. The way I see it, you're a victim, and Joey-boy was taking advantage of you -- using you for his own pleasure. The only reason you're here is so that you can watch me penalize him properly."
The girl's expression was defiant.
"Joey isn't a pervert!" she said. "We care about each other! He wasn't using me for sex!"
The gym teacher gave a chuckle and let a few more drops of wax hit Joey. His muffled cry was feminine.
"So tell me, then. How many times has this fucker penetrated your cunt?" she asked.
"W- What?"
Ms. Lee upended the candle, letting the melted wax fall along Joey's spine. He screamed, and I looked away, ashamed that couldn't do anything.
"I'm asking you a question," said the woman, meeting Angie's widening eyes as the boy moaned. "The quicker you answer, the quicker we can be done with this."
"Th- thirty times!" stuttered the girl, terrified. "No, forty! W- we didn't keep count!"
"And who initiates the sex?" the coach pressed. "You or him?"
"H- him, mostly."
Ms. Lee held the candleflame directly to Joey's skin, eliciting a loud cry.
"So let me get this straight," she said in cold anger. "You told me earlier that you lost your virginity to him when you started dating two months ago. He's had sex with you around forty times since, and that means he's been fucking you about two times every three days." She kicked the boy in the stomach, and he collapsed to his knees. Angie winced tearfully, and I clenched my Jaw. "You're seriously trying to convince me that he hasn't just been using you for sex?"
"W- we've been in the same English class for two years," sobbed Angie. "He's ... he's always been nice to me. He's helped me with homework and stuff ..."
"Spent a lot of time winning her trust, didn't you, you little fuck?" growled the woman, giving Joey's stomach another kick. He fell over, toppling the chair as he hit the ground. Vomit spilled from his mouth through the holes in the ball gag.
"Clear his mouth," Ms. Lee commanded me. "Letting him choke on his own puke would be too good for him."
Chewing into my bottom lip, I undid his gag and helped him sit up, patting him on the back. After several coughs, he hurled a second time, spewing a putrid mixture of semen and something else across the floortiles.
"L- let Angela go!" he pleaded hoarsely when his hacking concluded. "Y- you promised that you wouldn't-"
Ms. Lee shut him up with a snap kick to the cheek. Angie was openly sobbing now.
"Test my limits again, and I won't stop at the face," she said. Meeting my eyes, she said in a commanding tone, "Gag him. I don't want to hear him whine."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she responded with a glare.
"Don't even think about it, Mr. Lawrence," she said. "This is a serious infraction on school policy, and going light on students because of misplaced sympathy will have consequences. May I remind you that there are cameras here? Just shut up and let me do my job."
A quick glance around revealed a small camera hidden behind the speakers on the ceiling. I hadn't missed the plural, though -- there was at least one other, somewhere. Maybe the wall-mirror was one-way? Defeated, I squatted down beside Joey and fit the gag in his mouth again. He was slightly less cooperative this time, but gave in eventually, squeezing his eyes shut. Damn me for being too weak to help him, I thought.
"P- please," managed Angie between sobs. "D- don't hurt Joey anymore! I ... I'm just as guilty as he is! Punish me instead!"
Ms. Lee sighed and blew out the candle. Setting it back into the metal basket, she pocked a syringe gun and approached Angie.
"Dear, I'm giving him discipline on your behalf," she said in a much kinder tone -- something she reserved for girls only? "You're a very brave and kind girl for wanting to relieve him of his punishment, but it simply wouldn't be right."
"I just don't want him to be hurt because of me anymore," said Angie. "If you need to punish somebody, do it to me instead!"
"It pains me to do this," said Ms. Lee, sighing, "but if you insist."
Removing the syringe gun from her pocket in what looked to be a well-practiced action, she sank the needle into Angie's clit. The girl gasped, arching her neck at the pain. At the coach's sudden action, Joey's eyes widened, and tried to get to his feet, screaming. Knowing that Ms. Lee would probably injure him even worse if he attempted to interfere, I restrained him. That medicine -- was that the thing they used on my sister and mom?
Ignoring the boy, Ms. Lee tossed the syringe back into the basket. Stepping up to Angie's spread-eagled crotch, she leaned forward, closing her arm around the hyperventilating girl in a half-embrace. With her free hand, she started manipulating Angie's pussy.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "The pain will go away soon, and you'll start to feel very good."
"M- Ms. Lee?" asked the girl, sounding scared.
"Tell me," said the teacher, rubbing the slimy precum that issued from Angie's engorged clit. "Has Joey expressed any of his views to you regarding lesbians?"
"L- lesbos? Y- you mean like girls who k- kiss each other and stuff?" Angie's face was red, and tears were forming anew at the corners of her eyes. "H- he told me that he thought they're gross and that he doesn't want me d- doing the stuff they do."
"Excellent," said Ms. Lee. I couldn't decide whether to classify her smile as warm or sadistic. "It means he won't like it if I do this to you."
Planting her mouth against Angie's, I saw her pressing her tongue past the girl's lips, slipping it about as if it were some vaguely phallic tentacle. Angie, caught offguard, resisted momentarily before the dual assault to her mouth and her increasingly wet pussy overwhelmed her. A tear slid down Joey's bruised cheek as he watched, horrified.
A string of saliva hung between Ms. Lee and Angie's lips when the teacher finally broke off their kiss. Tears still streamed from Angie's eyes, but it seemed that she had calmed down somewhat.
"Let me tell you a little story," said Ms. Lee, wiping the fluids on her hand across Angie's erect nipples. "When I was in college, there was a handsome boy that was very nice to me and helped me with my studies. Often, in class, I would catch him looking at me, smiling. I thought he was a wonderful person."
With her index and middle finger, Ms. Lee began to repeatedly penetrate Angie's vaginal lips, causing the girl.
"That's just like me and-" Angie trailed off with a gasp and a moan.
"We started dating," said Ms. Lee, smiling nostalgically and increasing the tempo of her fingering. In rhythm to the teacher's hand movements, Angie moaned with increasing urgency. "After a few months, I gave my virginity to him, and we began to have sex on a regular basis."
Angie seemed to flinch, and a jet of translucent slime spurt forth from the tip of her clitoris -- probably her orgasm. The girl panted, trying to recover her breath, and Ms. Lee pulled back from the gynecologist's chair. Loosening her waist-cords, she dropped her bulky sweatpants and thong to the floor, revealing her glistening ... pussy? I was confused. She still had an abnormally prominent clit and a bulging pubic mound, but the nine-inch monster that I'd come to know her for was nowhere to be seen.
"About a half-year after that, something terrible happened to me." She was rubbing her genitals, but her tone was again steeped in cold anger.
"Wh- what happened?" Angie managed warily.
"There were three masked men," replied Ms. Lee, pulling off her t-shirt. "They were stronger than I was at the time, and easily overpowered me. Brought me into an abandoned building, where they tied me up and took turns forcing me to have sex with them." Reaching to the middle of her back, she unclasped her black lace bra, exposing her breasts. "They were videotaping me the whole time, too. When they'd finally humiliated me enough, they knocked me out with a blunt object and left me in a pile of trash."
The children seemed shocked at the revelation, but I couldn't help feeling a bit skeptical. The story shed a lot of light on the potential reasons behind Ms. Lee's behavior, certainly -- but it was entirely possible that she'd bullshitted the whole thing to win Angie's sympathies. Too much of the scenario resembled the girl's situation, and I didn't believe in coincidences.
"When I woke up in the hospital a few days later," she continued, "I was in a state of emotional shock. My boyfriend ... he helped me through the pain, even though there were certain con-"
Her voice caught, and she closed her eyes, stifling something that sounded vaguely like a sob. White slime -- semen? -- dripped down her inner thigh from her clit.
"... there were certain complications that I couldn't tell him about, and I had to stop having sex with him," she resumed. "It took months for me to recover, but eventually it seemed as if everything was fine. It was almost a half-year before I found out that my boyfriend had betrayed me."
"Be- betrayed?" stuttered Angie.
"Yes, betrayed," she said darkly, leaning over the girl's body again so that their nipples touched. "I don't mean that he cheated on me or anything like that, dear." Her arms encircled the chair. "After I stopped having sex with him, he had to relieve himself by masturbating to porn, which he never shared with me. He left his favorite video inside the player one day, and I was curious to see it. Do you know what I found?"
"N- no," said Angie, more out of fearful, naive sympathy than in reply. She'd guessed what Ms. Lee was leading up to. The way the story was structured, it couldn't be anything else.
"Can you imagine what I felt, watching myself being raped by the three masked men on screen?" she asked, looking Angie right in the eyes. There was nothing in her voice but passionate, righteous anger. "My boyfriend ... he set me up for that. He wanted to see me violated. He *enjoyed* seeing me violated, and he regularly jerked himself off to a video of me on my hands and knees, crying and begging for those men to stop."
The woman lifted herself from Angie's body. Standing between the girl's legs in a position reminiscent of a man pissing, she spread her thighs slightly. Her clit, which had already been an inch long, pushed outwards until its full shape was revealed, resembling the crown of a penis. Ms. Lee let out a sudden grunt, and the thick brown shaft of her cock -- slick with her pussy fluids -- burst from the lips of her vagina, followed by a pair of balls that looked heavy with semen. My jaws dropped. The shemales -- they could retract their penises into their pussies?
"Y- your cunny ..." said Angie, similarly shocked.
"This is the one thing I can thank my rapists for," said Ms. Lee, smiling sadly. "You see, some girls are born special, with boy organs hidden up inside their pubic mounds. The organs don't get released until something stretches the pussy beyond a certain point. My rapists did a good job of loosening me up."
Seeing that the girl was at a loss for words, she pressed the crown of her cock against Angie's pussy and bent forward, closing the distances between their faces. Joey, whose expression betrayed his fear for Angie, began moan loudly in protest.
"I'd like to make a bet with you, Angela Hoddesson," she said humorlessly. "If you win, you and Joey both go free, and nobody will punish you again for having sex so long as you remain within this school. If you lose, you still get to leave, but Joey will continue to serve detention every afternoon for the rest of the year. What do you say?"
"Wh- what's the bet?" asked Angie shakily.
"Your boyfriend," said the gym teacher, smiling. "I think he's a perverted little piece of shit, just like my ex, and I think that he's only after you for the sex. If I fucked you right here, right now, I bet he'd jizz all over his pants."
"Joey isn't like that!" the girl cried. "He's not a sicko like your boyfriend! He would never get off watching you do something like that to me!"
The woman's sadism was beginning to show through her smile, and it clicked in my mind that the needlemark I'd seen on Joey's arm had probably been left behind by an injection of aphrodisiac. Even if the boy normally had enough control not to respond to Ms. Lee's overt displays of sexuality, the drug was strong enough that it didn't matter. The outcome was practically guaranteed to fall in Ms. Lee's favor. If something didn't happen soon, Joey would be down a girlfriend, and Ms. Lee would have another fresh convert for her flock of shemales.
"So, do you accept the bet?" asked Ms. Lee, lubricating the entrance Angie's pussy with the juices on the crown of her cock.
Say no, I silently pleaded. You can't bet a year of your boyfriend's life on something like this -- he's a human being, not some sort of pet or animal. Please don't fall into Ms. Lee's way of thinking.
"Y- yes," said Angie.
I clenched my jaw at Joey's muffled crying, and Ms. Lee's smile was almost feral. With a thrust of her hips, her cock tore into Angie's pussy. The girl's scream was heartbreaking.
"So tight," said Ms. Lee in what sounded like mock kindness. "Are you sure you aren't a virgin, dear?"
Glancing in my direction, the woman noticed that that the boy had squeezed his shut, and gave Angie's right nipple a sharp twist. The painful noises the girl made got Joey's attention.
"Hold his chin and make sure he doesn't look away, Mister Lawrence," she said.
I reluctantly complied, dropping to one knee beside the boy and holding his chin. It wasn't necessary -- he'd fixed his gaze on the spectacle before us without my doing anything, and it struck me that for all his youth and girlishness, he might have been more of a man than me.
"Sorry, sweetie," said Ms. Lee, giving the girl's widening cunt an especially hard push with her ebony organ. "Didn't mean to hurt you. I was just making a point to your boyfriend."
Angie didn't reply. With every thrust of Ms. Lee's cock, the girl's cries of pain seemed to change a little more into pleasured moaning. I could see the corners of her mouth edging upwards into the beginnings of a smile, and already her eyes had lost their terrified cast. Was she a lost cause already? Would she betray Joey to blind lust the way my mother and Samantha had? With one hand, I started to quietly undo the boy's wrist bindings, making sure to move my body only minimally so as not catch Ms. Lee's attention.
Giving a moan, Ms. Lee stilled at the apex of her thrust; a discharge of semen and blood burst out of Angie's violated cunt from around the woman's cock, and Angie turned her irises upwards in euphoria, pushing her tongue from her smiling lips like some sort of bitch in heat. Soon, the woman had resumed pounding the girl's pussy anew, and there was no longer any indication of opposition or complaint -- Angie had surrendered completely to the carnal pleasures of the forbidden union, bucking her hips and embracing Ms. Lee's sex with wild abandon.
The knots were difficult to untie with one hand, but by the girl's fourth or fifth orgasm, I was almost finished. Sensing that the Angie's stamina was giving out, Ms. Lee extracted her still-hard erection from the girl's nether lips, which now gaped quite a bit larger than they had before. Letting Angie recover her breath, the woman loosed the leather straps that bound the girl to the gynecologist's chair.
"Are you ready to see who won the bet?" she asked, helping the girl up.
"Y- yes," said Angie, taking an unsteady step away from the apparatus. Out of shame or guilt -- or whatever else was running through her mind -- she averted her gaze from Joey.
"No," I said, pulling away the last knot from Joey's wrists.
Dragging him by the hand, I rushed to the door and pulled it open. We made it a few meters down the hall before something hard and metallic hit me in the legs from, tripping me into an exposed pipe along the wall. I think I might have bitten a small chunk from the inside of my cheek -- my mouth hurt enough that I couldn't speak. The contents of the metal basket -- what Ms. Lee had thrown, apparently -- spilled out across the dusty floor of the hallway.
"And you were doing so well, John," said Ms. Lee, approaching as I sat up to glare at her hatefully.
She turned to the boy collapsed against the opposite wall and sneered. Wiping a some cum from her cock and licking her hand, she gave boy a knowing smile. Angie, who'd limped after us, had apparently worked up the courage to look Joey in the face again.
"J- Joey," she said, lips quivering even as she smiled. "I ... I won the b- bet, right?"
Joey, whose mouth was still gagged, gave no response whatsoever; it was as if he'd admitted defeat. Angie put her hands on his shoulders and shook him.
"T- tell me that I won!" Angie said desperately, still smiling shakily. "Tell me that you were as d- disgusted as I was when Ms. Lee h- humped me!"
"We can confirm it easily enough, dear," said Ms. Lee, pushing the naked girl away.
Squatting down in front of the boy, she unfastened the button and zipper on his uniform pants and pulled it down along with his underwear, exposing his lightly haired penis. It was maybe three inches long at most, and he'd deposited a large load in the front of his briefs; fresh semen still dribbled from the foreskin. Angie's face had become slack in horror.
"That's right, dear," said the teacher, standing and gleefully stroking her organ. "He didn't even need to masturbate. Just watching you being penetrated against your will was enough to get him off. If he truly loved you, he would've never been turned on by your humiliation, no?"
In the dimly lit hallway, the girl's expression underwent a curious metamorphosis -- from horror to immense sadness, to anger, to rage and disgust. With her bare foot, she kicked at Joey's torso, sinking her toenails into the dried wax that covered his skin and drawing blood. I couldn't help but notice how erect her clitoris was. Was she actually aroused at the prospect of hurting him for his supposed betrayal? She'd betrayed him first, and in far worse a manner. How could she just completely overlook that?
"I loved you," she screamed hoarsely, face covered in tears. "I believed you! I let myself suffer for your sake!! How could you cum!?"
Before Angie was able to fling herself at him, Ms. Lee restrained her, setting a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Calm down, dear," she said. "Do you understand why I said I was punishing him for your sake now?"
"I ... I get it," replied Angie, sobbing.
"Good," said the teacher, curling a hand around the girl's torso and fondling her nipples. "Now, I have something very important to tell you."
"W- what?" The announcement broke the girl from her stupor, and she looked upwards at Ms. Lee's smiling face in confusion. "S- something important?"
"Do you remember what I said about me being special?"
"Y- yes?"
"Well," said Ms. Lee cheerfully, "the truth is, every girl and woman in this school is special, just like me. That includes you."
"B- but," Angie sputtered, "I'm not ... I don't have a-"
Ms. Lee pressed her breast against Angie's cheek and held the girl against her body, playing with her nipple.
"You feel it, don't you?" asked the shemale, placing Angie's left hand on her cock. "If you think about it, there's a weird pressure that you've never felt before inside your pussy. You know why it's there? It's because my cock loosened you up. You'll feel much better when you push it out."
"But-"
"No buts, dear," said Ms. Lee, pressing a finger against Angie's lips. "You're a Futanari now. There's no going back to being a normal girl for you. Now, do you want to help me punish your ex-boyfriend?"
"D- definitely," said Angie. There was some hesitation in her voice still, but her self-righteous fury was resolute.
Letting Angie go, Ms. Lee grabbed Joey by the hair and dragged him to his knees in front of the girl.
"Squat with your legs open widely and put your pussy in front of his face," she said.
Fixing Joey with an angry expression, Angie did as asked.
"You deserve this, you asshole," she said.
"You're unconsciously clenching the pussy muscles holding your cock inside you," said Ms. Lee, stroking her own organ at a slightly faster rate. "Can you feel them?"
"Yes," said Angie.
"Let them go loose, and then push like you're taking a shit. It might hurt a little."
Angie closed her eyes and groaned. Her dripping clit mushroomed outwards slightly, exposing the crown-like shape of her glans.
"Push harder," encouraged Ms. Lee, pulling the ball gag from Joey's mouth.
Angie gave an unladylike grunt, and the veiny shaft of her penis slipped out with a spurt of fluid. Joey yelped in surprise as his face was coated in a layer of vaginal lubrication and blood. Looking down at her new organ with an expression of mild shock, Angie gave it an experimental stroke. Her hand wasn't able to fully encircle its girth, and she had at least five inches on her former boyfriend. It was only slightly shorter than Ms. Lee's monstrosity.
"I ... I really have a penis now," admitted Angie in disbelief. "It feels like I was always meant to have this ... It's so huge."
"Congratulations," the teacher said to her. "You're now far more of a man than your ex-boyfriend ever was." Meeting the boy's eyes, she continued in a darker tone, "And you, Joey-boy ... You've just earned detention for the rest of the year. As payback for everything you've put your ex-girlfriend through, I think the first thing we'll have you do is suck off her newly grown cock."
At Ms. Lee's cue, Angie pushed her cock at Joey's face, hovering maybe a centimeter or two in front of his lips. The boy looked up into Angie's eyes, as if searching for some shred of the girl he'd humiliated himself to protect.
"Please, Angie! I didn't mean to-"
Without any mercy, she shut him up by pushing her cock into his throat.
"I don't want to hear your bullshit anymore," she said, expression now mirroring Ms. Lee's sadistic lust.
The innocent girl that I'd met not an hour ago was dead -- of this, I was fairly certain. Wearing her skin now was a depraved shemale creature, dedicated to her own hedonism. It was entirely my fault, too, I realized. My reputation be damned! I shouldn't have given in to the Principal's orders just because of blackmail. I shouldn't have brought Joey to this place.
As Ms. Lee dumped her load across the floor, I closed my eyes to the soft squelching sounds of Joey's torture ...
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