The day I sat detention

I sat detention and one thing led to another. Needless to say I am now the teacher's pet, or rather she is mine.

I was almost fast asleep as Miss Thompson was scribbling on the black board. She was explaining a serious math problem, but all I could see was that tight bubble but framed by her pencil skirt.

"Pay attention, Alex," she said without turning around. Her voice had that sharp edge like always. "This section will be on Friday's test."

I shifted in my seat, the wooden chair creaking under me. My eyes traced the curve of her skirt again, how it hugged her hips when she reached high on the board. I twisted my head slightly, wondering if I could see her panties under the bottom edge. But it was just out of sight. The chalk dust floated in the air, catching the fluorescent lights. She wiped a strand of dark hair from her forehead, leaving a smudge of white above her eyebrow. The classroom was dead silent except for the squeak of her chalk.

Detention stretched like torture. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. She paced slowly towards my desk, her heels clicking on the linoleum. Her scent hit me first—cheap floral perfume mixed with sweat. "Your homework was a disaster," she said, slapping my notebook down. Her knuckles were white. "You stay until you finish problem twelve." She leaned over me, pointing at the page. Her blouse gaped slightly. I could see everything she had to offer. she was not wearing a bra and her small breast with the pointy nipple on top held all my attention.

My pulse hammered in my ears. The classroom door was locked. I stood up abruptly, knocking my chair over. It clattered against the floor. She took a step back, eyes wide. "Alex?" Her voice trembled. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed her wrists, shoving her onto the desk face down. Her ass pressed against me through the thin skirt. I could feel her warmth. She gasped, struggling, but I was stronger. Much stronger.

I yanked her skirt up past her hips. Her thighs were pale and trembling. The thigh gap was real, smooth skin stretched tight over bone. Her knees pressed together uselessly. I ripped her panties aside. She screamed, a raw, desperate sound. "Please, no!" Her fingers clawed at the wood. I ignored her. I forced my fist between her thighs, knuckles grinding against her vulnerable pussy. Her legs shook violently. The scent of her sweat and fear filled the air. She tried to bargain with me.

"Stop! I'll—I'll pass you! I'll give you an A!" Her voice cracked. She twisted her head, mascara smeared down her cheeks. I laughed, low and harsh. My other hand pushing her arm up behind her back to its maximum rotation. She sobbed, spit bubbling on the wood. I kept my fist jammed in her thigh gap, feeling her muscles strain against me. Her skin felt like hot velvet.

I hooked my fingers into the side of her panties. Cotton. White. Cheap. She bucked wildly. "Don't!" she shrieked. I jerked hard. The fabric tore cleanly, coming away in my hand. I threw the scrap aside. She was completely bare underneath. Waxed smooth. Not a single hair. Just pale, vulnerable skin. It looked obscene. Vulnerable. Mine. The sight made my breath hitch. "God, no," she whimpered.

My free hand grabbed the back of her neck, pinning her cheek flat to the wood. Then I pushed her arm higher behind her back. She cried out. A sharp, animal sound. Her spine arched, forcing her ass higher. Her thigh gap stretched wider, her pussy gaping. I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. I undid my pants and got my dick out. It was harder than I could remember it ever being. "Please... please stop..." Her voice was a wet rasp.

I positioned my cock at the entrance to her pussy and pushed inside her in one brutal thrust. She screamed into the desk, a muffled, guttural noise. Her body clenched tight around me, slick and hot. I grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her neck tendons stood out like cables. Tears streamed down her face. I thrust hard. Again. Again. The desk legs scraped against the floor with each impact. Her pencil skirt was bunched around her waist. Her ass jiggled pale and wide under the fluorescent lights.

Her cries turned into ragged sobs. "Stop... you're tearing me!" Her voice was shattered glass. I slammed deeper. My hips drove forward with a force that rocked the desk. Her knees slid apart on the polished wood. Her thigh gap not helping her at all, exposing everything. I felt her cervix, that firm little knob deep inside. I aimed for it. Punched into it. She shrieked, a high-pitched sound that echoed off the empty classroom walls. Her body went rigid, then trembled violently. The scent of blood mixed with her sweat.

I leaned over her, my breath hot on her ear. "Deep," I grunted. My fingers dug into her hip, holding her open. My thrusts became short, brutal jabs. Purposeful. Each one hammered against her entrance, forcing her wider. Her pussy was slick and hot, clenching uselessly around me. I could feel the pulse thrumming inside her. "Need to get it deep," I hissed. "Need to fill you up." Her tears dripped onto the wood beneath her cheek. She whimpered, a broken, continuous sound.

She twisted her head, trying to look at me. "Please," she gasped, her voice shredded. "Don't... don't cum inside me." Her eyes were wide, terrified holes. "I'll get pregnant! Please!" Her thighs trembled violently, trying to clamp shut against my cock. It was pointless. I held her down; her pussy stretched obscenely around my cock. I felt the pressure building, a thick, hot coil in my balls. Her begging just made it sharper.

I slammed my hips forward, burying myself to the hilt. Her cervix took the impact with a wet thud. She choked, her body convulsing. "Shut up," I growled, yanking her hair harder. Her scalp burned under my grip. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto her back. Her skin felt slick, fever-hot. I could taste the salt in the air. Her cheap perfume was gone now, replaced by the raw stink of fear and sex. Her pussy was a tight, wet fist around me, pulsing with each ragged breath.

The pressure exploded. My balls tightened violently. Thick ropes of cum shot deep into her womb, hot and relentless. She screamed "No!" – a raw, tearing sound that scraped against my ears. Her thighs clamped down, muscles quivering. But it was useless. I held her open, grinding deeper as I emptied myself inside her. Her sobs hitched, turning into wet gasps. I felt her inner walls flutter weakly against my cock. The desk shuddered under our weight.

I stayed buried deep. Kept my cock planted firmly inside her. Her tears dripped onto the wood. Sweat cooled on my skin. The fluorescent lights hummed. Her breathing was shallow, ragged. I felt her pulse thudding against my shaft. She didn't move. Didn't speak. Just trembled under me. Minutes crawled by. The only sound was her choked breathing and the distant slam of a locker down the hall.

I pulled out slowly. Felt her inner walls cling, slick and swollen. Cum leaked out immediately, thick and white, down her pale inner thighs. She collapsed onto the floor. Her skirt bunched around her waist. Her face pressed into the cold linoleum. She didn't make a sound. Her body curled tight. Knees pulled toward her chest. Her thigh gap exposed her bruised pussy. Raw. I zipped my pants. My cock still throbbed.

I got the key unlocked the door, got my stuff and went home. I didn't see her again for the rest of the week. A substitute teacher gave the lessons. I wondered why I hadn't gotten a call from the cops. Her car was still in the faculty lot every morning, though. Parked in the same spot under the oak tree. I watched it from the window during third period algebra. The dent on the rear bumper from when she backed into the gate post last month. Still there. Untouched.

Two weeks later she finally appeared. She wore make up like she was trying to hide from the world. She moved slowly, deliberately, as if each step cost her something. The pencil skirt was gone. Replaced by a pair of jeans. She didn't meet anyone's gaze as she passed out the quarterly exam booklets. The room was dead silent except for the rustle of paper. I kept my head down, scribbling nonsense on the cover sheet. Her heels clicked closer. Slow. Measured. The cheap floral perfume was very prominent.

She stopped at my desk. Didn't look at me. Just placed a folded piece of paper on the corner. Her knuckles were bruised. Yellow and purple. I waited until she'd moved to the next row before unfolding it. Inside was a pregnancy test. The plastic was cool against my fingers. Two blue lines stared back at me. Stark. Unmistakable. I crumpled it into my palm. I felt a sense of pride and confusion.

The bell rang. Chairs scraped. Kids filed out. I stayed seated. She didn't move. Just stood leaning against the chalkboard, arms crossed tight over her chest. She stared daggers at me. "Why?" I asked, my voice flat. "Why didn't you call the cops?" She flinched, just slightly. "Because," she whispered, the sound raw, "if you could do... that... maybe you're useful." Her gaze dropped to my hands. "I need something done."

."And the baby," I asked "Is it mine?" my eyes locked on her stomach hidden under a baggy sweatshirt. She nodded once, sharp. "And?" Her voice was ice. "I'm keeping it. You wanted deep, Alex. You got it." A cold smirk touched her lips. "But you won't touch it. Ever. Won't sign anything. Won't pay a cent. You're just the... donor."

She pushed off the board, walking slowly to her desk. Her steps were careful, stiff. "What I need," she said, pulling a thin manila folder from a drawer, "is for you to Knock up some of your classmates. In this folder is the names of 3 girls, where they live and there...Cycles. use the same technique you used on me.

I stared at the folder. My pulse kicked hard against my ribs. "Why them?" My voice sounded rough, unfamiliar.

Her knuckles whitened on the desk edge. "Their mothers," she said, the words clipped and tight. "Jennifer Park's mom? Cornered me after cheer-leading practice sophomore year. Called me 'teacher's pet gutter trash' while she poured her Diet Coke down my shirt. Laughed when it soaked through my bra." She paused, her breath catching. "Sarah Miller's father? Told the principal I was 'distracting' his precious daughter just because I sat next to her in calculus. Got me suspended. Lost my scholarship chance." Her eyes were flat, dead pools. "And Chloe Evans... her mother spread rumors. Said I fucked the whole football team for answers. Made sure no decent boy would look at me."