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DUGAN sucking one dick and then the


Mr. Dugan's Class
Mr. Dugan had class, no doubt about that. He was the one man
I truly trusted in our whole high school, James B. McFadden high.
Never once did he give any indication he wanted to touch my huge
breasts or do anything not in keeping with being a good teacher.
And if you're waiting for me to say: AND THEN I FOUND
OUT, you're wasting your time. Mr. Dugan wasn't like that.
Unfortunately the rest of the boys in school were like that. I
made matters worse by being unavailable and rude about it after the
brassiere incident, but I was really, really pissed. The boys talked my
fellow cheerleaders- I still don't know who-into stealing my bra before
games. They said they wanted to see if I could do the cheers without
my bra and still not be knocked over by the weight of my tits.
How rude. How crude. What a bunch of losers. They knew
what I thought and they hated me and I hated them. At the same time,
they didn't hate my tits. They wanted my tits and ass and that stuff, but
they didn't like me and knew I wasn't about to give it up to the likes of
them. That made them hate me all the more.
Then poor Mr. Dugan stepped into the middle of it. He had
yelled at them for teasing me before, but this time they were actually
holding me and trying to get my sweater up so they could look at my
tits. He was like a man possessed as he pulled them away from me. He
was even more pissed than I was. He held Johnny Butts in one hand
and Lenny Spigg in the other and just screamed at them.
There was no defense for what they were doing, but they didn't
like Dugan saying he was going to report them to the principal, their
parents and the police. Johnny wasn't used to being treated that way.
The Butts are big in our town. Of course that just made the scene a little
sweeter for me, but I never believed it would go so far.
I guess Johnny was more upset and scared than I thought,
because he ran out of the room and then came back about five minutes
later. Mr. Dugan was soothing me with assurances that there were
people that treated others with respect in the world and that I had just
fallen among thugs. Then Johhny hit him. He must have worked it out
when he was out of the room, because right after a bunch of his friends
trooped into the room.
"I guess old Doogie knows what's what now," Johhny said,
standing over the unconscious teacher.
Then they turned on me. Johhny and Lenny went back to
holding me as a couple of the others tied up Mr. Dugan. This time there
was enough of them to get my sweater up over my face, but they didn't
stop there. Before they were through, the only clothes near me was my
sweater pulled up like a mask over my face and my bra hanging
helpless from my arms.
Now some of the attention would have been okay if it was with
a person I liked in a different setting, but then there were guys that
wanted to bite my tits and slap my tits. It was horrible and painful and
so degrading. And that was when I thought they were just exercising
their curiosity about my tits.
They wanted it all. They only played with my tits for a few
minutes before Johhny threw me down on the floor.
"Somebody get her legs," he said as he abandoned his hold on
my arms.
Before I could struggle my sweater down, someone had taken
his place and lifted my arms over my head. Two guys had my legs and
Johnny was dropping his pants standing between my wide-spread legs.
Now you've heard of technical virgins. I was a technical non-
virgin. No boy had breached the pink gates, but I broke my cherry with
my finger two years before and had been putting that fact to good use
with a vibrator ever since. Not that I expected someone like Johhny to
believe that or that I had any intention of telling him anything but to let
me up.
When he found I had been 'tried' he hooted it to the boys.
"Don't know what to say guys," he smirked as his cock sank to
the hairs in my cunt, "But there ain't nothin' stoppin' me from gettin' in
That revelation- besides embarrassing the shit out of me- brought
a round of catcalls from the boys. So little Miss Prissy had a secret.
They immediately tried and convicted Mr. Dugan of being the culprit
and they turned to the things they could to do to torment both of us.
They didn't have much luck with me since Johnny sliding his
dick in and out of me was about the most torment I could imagine. Mr.
Dugan, however, was subjected to all sorts of indignities, which he,
fortunately, missed because he was still unconscious. They pantsed
him- at least as far as the ropes around his knees and then sat him up on
his desk, propped on the globe.
There he sat, like some obscene icon holding court over these
proceedings with the look of a sacrifice on his face and his pecker
laying limp on his thigh.
Then Johnny got his 'big' idea. I guess he wasn't satisfied with
the level of protest I was generating and he wanted to really hear me
"Go get Connie," Johnny told one of the boys, "and make sure
she comes alone. She'll understand but I don't know about her friends."
He stopped fucking me without even cumming and pulled his
pants back up to wait for our school's World-Class slut, Connie. It was
rumored that Connie would do anything for a guy and this complete
subservience made her both the object of curiosity and contempt for the
other girls.
When Connie came in she instantly lit up like a kid in a candy
store. There were all these dicks in one place and Mr. Dugan with his
thing out. She could smell just the kind of trouble she liked best.
"Connie, my dear, I would like you to do me a favor," said
Johnny, buttering her up, "Would you mind getting Mr Dugan in proper
shape for his girlfriend here?"
The innuendo that I was fucking Dugan slid smoothly by her. I
think Connie assumed everyone was fucking someone- you know, birds
gotta fly, fish gotta swim, girls gotta fuck. She turned quickly to the
problem of encouraging an erection on the unconscious man.
He didn't jerk in her hand when she touched him and that
seemed to be a first for her, judging from her puzzled look. She stroked
him a bit and then gave up and dropped her face in his lap. A lot of wet
gulping sounds and about a hundred head bobs later, she popped up
with a big grin on her face and Mr. Dugan's hardon in her hand.
Then out came the Polaroid and I knew where Johnny's devious
mind had taken him. I was unceremoniously hustled off the floor and
the sweater and bra taken off me. A couple of them tied my wrists in
front of me and then a bunch of them lifted me up and put me on Mr.
Dugan's erection. Connie guided it in and I was having sex with Mr.
Dugan- sort of.
Johnny cropped the pictures tight enough that you couldn't see
the hand forcing my face towards the camera or the ropes around Mr.
Dugan's knees. All that was there was me scowling into the camera, my
backside with a dick going into it and Mr. Dugan's slack face in the
background. He took a couple and then they tied my hands behind me
and tipped me back. This time he could get my tits in the frame and
you could just make out that there was a cock slipping into my mount.
Now he had the blackmail. Now he could really get wild.
Johnny chased the guys holding me away abruptly and took his
place behind me. This time I didn't have a clue what was in his mind. I
thought he would rape me again, but I thought he'd throw me on the
floor again to do it. I never suspected what was coming.
He didn't move me at all. I couldn't figure out what he was
trying when I felt his cock probing around under me. Mr. Dugan's dick
was still in me. Couldn't he figure out that he'd have to take that out
before he could put his in?
I found out I was the stupid one. Even the first push didn't alert
me. But on the second, he lodged the head of his cock in my anus. Lord
God! he meant to use me like a faggot! I couldn't believe he would do
that and I couldn't believe he could make his dick fit in that tiny hole.
Unfortunately, my belief did not limit his intention and my asshole
couldn't resist his determination.
It was slow-yes sir- and painful- by God, but he pushed and
angled and pushed again and won inch after inch of entrance to my
bowels. Once he was about halfway in he began to fuck in and out a
little and that seemed to give him easy gains as he slammed the rest of
his cock into my poor protesting ass. Then he called for the camera
"Try and get both dicks in her and Dugan's face and her face-
but don't get mine," he instructed the boy with the Polaroid.
The flash went off until the film was exhausted and the pictures
were a mixed bag of results. But Johnny's face wasn't in any of the
pictures. Mr. Dugan and I weren't real clear in any that showed
penetration but there were a couple of magazine-quality shots of my
butt with two cocks stuck in it. You couldn't prove it was my butt, but
it was enough for me to know it was mine for the pictures to make me
sick to my stomach.
My asshole looked almost as unhappy as it felt. It was stretched
and dimpled into a deep valley between my buttcheeks and stuffed with
hard cock. And out of sight up inside me was this hard rod rummaging
around in places it didn't belong. Johnny fucked me then and the torture
just got worse.
It felt like he was ripping the tender sphincter every time he
pulled out or rammed back in and the whole process brought an
extended howl from me as I felt like he was splitting me open. And
every time the pain died a little, it seemed he moved to another more
painful angle and started it up once again.
I can't imagine anything more distasteful than the feeling when
he came. It was mostly the depraved warmth of his cum, feeling like
internal bleeding in my guts, but it was also the stabs and jerks as he
spasmed and sent his impaling cock careening wildly in all directions
up my ass. I felt hollowed out and injured as he panted hot breath on
my neck for a few seconds after shooting his load.
Then I just felt hollow as he pulled out and left what seemed to
be the Lincoln Tunnel where my tight little asshole used to be. I should
have been happy with that. The cure for the gaping hole was even less
pleasant. Johnny turned to the boys and offered me to them.
"Who wants to help old Doogie double-fuck the teacher's pet?"
he called and an instant line formed to my rear.
Then it became the horrible nightmare. It was an eternal
procession out of a dream of hell as one after the other the boys stuck
their dicks in my asshole and fucked me. It was a troubled train of
images jumping out starkly from the monotonous thump and tear of
their pricks ravaging my rectum.
I remember grinning masks of demonic joy as they leered at my
distress and protests. I remember one great pinning thrust that spread
my buttcheeks so wide that I feared the skin would tear, to say nothing
of the rod thus thrust inside me pushing all my organs toward my lungs
in the course of its massive intrusion. I remember Connie on her knees
sucking one dick and then the next as she readied each boy in turn to
take his place ramming his cock up my asshole. I remember the feel of
their semen as they pumped it out into me and then it was pumped out
of me by the next invading prick and it trickled down over my pussy
and down onto Mr. Dugan. And I remember praying as every one left
that he would be the last.
Then even that wish went sour. When the line had run its course
through my anus, they pulled me off Mr. Dugan and tied me to a desk
they had overturned. It was just the right slant and just the right height
to present my tits to them- right at groin level. My shoulders were
pulled back by the ropes and that made them stand out proud and
unprotected from whatever the boys wanted to do.
Most of them wanted to fuck my tits. It was only irritating to
have those cocks pressed between my breastflesh and rubbed back and
forth as they squeezed my tits tight around them. Some wanted to suck
and lick them. That was actually pretty good, given that I was going to
be tied there naked anyway. A few wanted to hurt me. That sucked big
time. I was pinned helpless as they bit and pinched, slapped and
whipped my tender flesh.
Then Johnny pissed on me. It was a long time later. Some of the
boys got excited between my tits and then and fucked Connie, who was
making it loudly known that she would take all comers. There were
lulls and then some guy would want to toy with me again. I was raped
vaginally a couple of times. Even Connie came over and sucked on my
tits while some guy fucked her from behind. It seemed like it took
days, but it must have only been hours.
Then Johnny pissed on me.
"This is what hoity-toity sluts like you want," said instant
psychologist Johnny as he pointed his dick at me and let loose the
yellow stream.
He didn't seem to care where it fell. He just wanted to piss on
me. Others followed and pissed on my tits and belly. It wasn't until
Connie straddled me that I got my first facefull of urine.
And then they left. Dripping, stinging and ultimately rank, I was
left tied to the desk naked. I had nearly struggled my way free when
my calls and my struggles finally attracted the attention of the janitor.
His leers and dirty chuckles at finding me in that condition were
unfortunately cut short by a alternative concern as he noticed Mr.
I was glad to grab clothes and cover myself, but poor Mr.
Dugan was not moving. The emergency squad rushed him to the
hospital, but he died without regaining consciousness. They said he had
been bleeding inside his skull since he was hit and the pressure finally
killed him.
Even Johnny Butts couldn't get away with murder. It was a
mixed blessing for me. I got to see Mr. Dugan avenged, but the
Polaroids that Johnny took for protection became one of his worst
accusers. That meant they became public and it meant the defense
attorney got to rake me over the coals about what was happening when
they were taken.
I think that was a stupid thing to do, since even if we were all
having an orgy, it still proved Johnny wasn't very concerned for Mr.
Dugan's well-being. It kind of cut off any plea that it was all an
accident and Johnny was real scared and just panicked. I didn't think it
helped his case at all to attack me, since I wasn't really his accuser.
And of course I hated reliving the whole ordeal. I'm glad I didn't
know Mr. Dugan was dying while it was happening. It was bad enough
to have to live through it without knowing I was the last fuck of a dying


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