Corrupting the Teacher

[MelissaSVP]

SOME INFORMATION:

• Any names or characters that resemble anyone else is purely coincidental, etc, etc please don't sue me I'm already broke enough as it is!
• This story contains elements that some would find offensive and/or distasteful, such as cheating and rough sex that might (depending on who takes the role of Cory) border on non-consentual. If this is the case for you, please stop reading and don't send me hate mail.
• At the moment I'm looking for a man to play as Cory. Skim through my post and if this interests you, let me know. Send me a private message before posting just to see if we're on the same page.

SETTING:

https://i.imgur.com/D4G58Rh.jpg

A fictional high school called New Meadows Secondary School in a small city in Minnesota. There isn't too much to do around the area, it being a simple suburb and all, but the locals are crazy about football and hockey.


ME:

https://i.imgur.com/LUdw7F0.jpg https://i.imgur.com/5yndDDX.jpg?1
https://i.imgur.com/uGMTlsp.png
I play as Melissa Mendoza, a half Filipina 26 year old teacher who is new to her career. She overcompensates for her insecurity, at least in the start of the story but gradually lowers her guard. She's engaged and has a younger brother, who is actually attending her class. Melissa's body is slim but curvy, with large breasts and a huge ass that enthralls her students.

YOU:

https://i.imgur.com/Ev8z28d.jpg?1

An interested reader could play as Cory, a cocky manipulative jerk who lusts after Melissa. He would be a popular jock, who picks on Tommy (Melissa's younger brother) from time to time. He bides his time and uses whatever he can to further his goal of getting into Melissa's pants, with the intention of degrading her in ways she couldn't even imagine.


SCENE:

Cognitive dissonance.

That's the term for having conflicting and inconsistent thoughts or beliefs. This term is often used and applies to most people, whether they would like to admit it or not. There are many examples of this and ranging from people who claim to care about the homeless (yet never spare any change), to doctors who know really well the effects of tobacco (yet smoke anyway), to religious folks of all types who don't practice what they preach. The latter, or some form of it, applies to me in some shape or form. After all, I was a somewhat practicing Catholic - having taught Sunday school for about two years during high school, and yet here I was cheating on my fiance with some high school senior, who was aggressively demolishing me in bed. He was disciplining me, in fact, when it should have been the other way around. Wait, I'm probably getting too far ahead of myself and really should take the time to explain how I ended up in such a terrifyingly disgusting situation in the first place...

Okay let's start from the beginning. Hi. My name is Melissa and I'm a 26 year old woman, fresh out of college with a master's degree in history. I'm 5'10", so pretty tall compared to most women. While we're on the subject of standing out compared to most women, I feel like it would be disingenuous to not bring up my body. You see, I have what you would call an hourglass figure. Relatively thin from my upper half, except for my 30D cup breasts that swelled underneath whatever clothing that I decided to wear, with a curvy lower half. Wide "child-bearing hips" and a protruding large ass, matched with my long thick thighs. I did my best to hide my curves with modest clothing. My attire of choice was typically a sweater with a pair of jeans, which worked well considering the mild temperature here in Minnesota.

I was nervous. It was my first day as a high school teacher here at New Meadows Secondary School, the same high school that I attended eight years ago, and the same school that my geeky younger brother was attending right now. Tommy, my brother, was actually going to be a student in one of my classes and practically begged me to not mention that we were siblings. He had a bit of a bullying problem, one that he didn't want to mention to mom or dad. In a way, I understood why. High school students, especially rowdy eighteen year olds, were ruthless and if they knew that I was his older sister, there would be no way in hell that they wouldn't pick on him. Or worse, accuse him of getting preferential treatment in the same year where he would be applying to college.

But that's not why I was nervous. I was a naturally shy and timid person. It's why I was a pushover in high school and the reason why I wasn't so popular when I attended New Meadows. I was anxious that when I would start this job, that I would struggle to control my students. That's why I needed a bit of a prep talk from Simon, my fiance, while I waited awkwardly in my car. I had my phone on speaker, while I observed students make their way to the front door of the school.

"Melly, you'll be fine. Those kids are probably more scared of you than you are scared of them."

"Simon, these aren't kids. They're eighteen and have already dealt with teachers before."

Like I mentioned earlier, I'm dealing with high school seniors and I knew that not all of them behaved like my younger brother. It was from my own personal experience that I knew that senior year students were the worst. All hyped up to finish school, this is where I thought high school students to be the rowdiest and most disruptive. I tried to comfort myself by thinking that things might have changed since I was a nerdy senior year student, but I knew that this thought, although comforting, was a pipe dream.

"Well babe, just fake it 'till you make it! Push yourself to be more assertive and I'm sure it'll come naturally with these students. You can do this!"

"Thanks honey, I hope so. I love you."

"Love you too."

I could hear the first bell ring, so that meant I needed to toughen up and hurry to class. It was one thing to be afraid, but would be a completely different situation if I was late on my first day. Quickly grabbing my things, I hurried off from my car and headed inside the school as well. Class A32-01. Twentieth-Century History.

As I got there, the students were all seated down and chatting among themselves. Everyone except my brother, who was quietly reviewing some notes while someone shoved Tommy's head before heading to his desk. That must have been the bully. Whatever his name was...

"AHEM!" I began confidently, getting everyone's attention. Good.

"Hello everyone, my name is Miss Mendoza and I'll be your teacher for Twentieth Century History. I know that history might not be the most exciting thing in the world for most of you, but I'll do my best to make sure that you all don't have to memorize an entire textbook all in one night while overdosing on Redbull."

That got me a few laughs. So far so good.

"Anyway, the focus of this class will be to know basic concepts of twentieth century history. No, you will not have to know the exact dates for most of these events, but you will have to know some of them. I'll try to make things exciting for you all by making a game out of it every so often, so try not to get discouraged already. Before we start, I'd like to get to know you all a bit better. So when I call out your name, I want you to tell me a little bit about yourself. Okay, so let's start with...Cory."

 

[LitShark]

Cory Caldwell was up before his alarm in the morning, he’d been so excited he could hardly sleep—it was the first day of his senior year. He and his brothers in arms on the football team had already been practicing for the past three weeks, revising the playbook and getting into shape to be ready for the first week of his senior season. This was the big payoff for his years of hard work, no more hazing rituals for Cory—he was finally the top of the high school food-chain—QB1, the team captain.

After his shower, Cory used an electric razor to trim and style his stubble before shaping it around his mouth with a manual razor. He used designer aftershave and applied deodorant before tossing on a brand new, albeit oversized, white t-shirt and lastly, he took his burgundy and navy letter jacket—navy sleeves of genuine leather and wool torso dyed deep burgundy, the school letters embroidered in white carpeted fabric. The inner lining was diamond-stitched silk, keeping the wearer cool in warm weather and warm in cool. He wore several pins on the surface of the school’s letters—his jersey number, number one, of course. A miniature football, a symbol of his role as captain. Across the back, in white, carpeted letters, his nickname was embroidered across his shoulders: “EAGLE EYE.”

Cory finished the outfit with an expensive pair of Cavalli jeans and a Louis Vuitton belt before rushing through his step-father’s elaborate mansion. He called a brief goodbye to his mom and step-dad before climbing into his cocaine white Lamborghini convertible that step-pops had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday.

The motor roared and the tires squealed as Cory tore away from his step-dad’s cul du sac toward school. He was able to get the Lambo up to 115 on the highway before he had to brake hard and downshift while veering across three lanes to make his exit. The vanity plate read: EAGLEYE.

Though it was unofficial, it was an accepted fact that QB1 had their own reserved parking space in the student lot. The closest, non-handicapped space had the letters QB spray painted at the bottom of the space. Cory left curved, black skid-marks in the parking lot as he drifted into his space, almost perfectly. The front left tire and corner of his car were blocking the handicapped space next to his own, but Cory didn’t care. No cripples even went here and there were three spaces for them.

Cory met up with Lamar and Daniel, his best friends out front of the school and they absolutely dominated the hall walk in their matching letter jackets. Lamar was a wide receiver, a two-sport athlete who was also a nationally ranked sprinter. Daniel had been friends with Cory since middle school and now played tight end.

Most of the day went exactly as Cory had hoped it would. Dana had flirted with him at lunch and Jessica said she was having second thoughts about waiting for marriage to have sex. He was working on Katie as he approached his history class.

“Oh, isn’t that the one with the new, first-year teacher? Mrs. Mendoza or something?” Katie asked as they reached the classroom.

“Says Ms. Mendoza—not married. Maybe she’s a slut and will want to suck my cock, wouldn’t you feel upstaged?” Cory teased his on-again-off-again ex.

“Cory Caldwell! You’ve got a filthy mouth,” Katie blushed, playfully swatting his muscular upper arm through his leather sleeve, “that’s why my dad never liked you!”

“Your dad doesn’t like me because you moaned too loud and got us busted while we were fucking on your couch.”

“Asshole!”

“Besides, this class is a layup anyway—20th Century History, what a joke! How hard can it be to learn what happened the last eighteen years? I’m taking this as a safety class.”

“You know that… you know what, nevermind,” Katie chuckled, “enjoy your layup class. I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Maybe… unless Miss Mendoza’s gagging on my cock,” Cory used his hand and his tongue inside his cheek to pantomime cock-sucking as he backed into the class.

The first person he spotted was that nerd Tommy, what the fuck was a dweeb like him doing in such and obvious fuck-off class. Cory made up his mind to pick up where he’d left off last year in tormenting the little dweeb fuck.

“Hey shit-head, what the fuck are you doing in this class?” Cory taunted, taking Tommy’s head in a headlock and roughly grinding his knuckles across his scalp, “how much did your mommy give you for lunch today, huh? Turn out your pockets, shit-bird.”

“Leave me alone, Cory. I’m not in the mood today!” Tommy whined.

“Fuck you, twerp. Cough up the dough.” Cory demanded harshly, shoving Tommy’s head down toward his desk, just as the new teacher walked in and cleared her throat, “what, did she choke on a cock back there?”

Cory muttered the question under his breath as he moved to the back to sit beside Daniel and another of his brothers in arms. Daniel chuckled at the joke as Cory sat down, in the back, getting his first good look at Ms. Mendoza.

“Holy shit!” Cory muttered, eyes wide, awestruck, “that ass is fucking epic! You see that shit, Moose?”

Moose was Daniel’s nickname.

“Looks good enough to eat.”

Cory was slightly mystified when he was called on, he wasn’t really paying attention until he heard his name. He wasn’t exactly sure what this sexy, first-year teacher had asked him, but there was really only one thing he wanted to talk about.

“I’m Cory ‘Eagle Eye’ Caldwell and I’d take two nights and a day to drain my sand into that hour-glass,” the rest of the class exploded with laughter, “seriously though, Mendoza, do you put on those jeans or airbrush them on? I bet I could bounce a quarter off that ass from here.”

The class exploded with laughter again, Cory had set the tone now, there wasn’t going to be a single thing easy for Melissa about teaching this class.

“I’d eat that ass like groceries!” Cory added, once the collective laughter died down enough for him to fling another dagger, “like she smugglin’ grapefruits in her pants!”

More laughter.

 

[MelissaSVP]

Senior year : eight years ago

"This is not funny George! Stop it - let go!"

The tall, celebrated athlete of New Meadows dragged me across the hall towards the bathroom that no one used. It was off-limits, barred entry, denied to anyone whose name wasn't George. There was only one in the entire school and he made damn sure that everyone knew it. It was a weird, disgusting way, he ruled the school. Whether it was bullying, popularity or dirt he had on the right people, this asshole ruled the school and could get away with anything. He knew it too. A sadistic, cruel smirk was always on his handsome face. A face that could disarm nearly any woman in the school and lead her into a very disturbing place. I was one of the women in the school that George couldn't just flirt and smile his way into. I had some popularity too, well until after this evening. It drove him crazy that a woman with my kind of body was out of his reach and this evening, he was no longer having any of that. This senior year woman was going to have his cock inside of her, one way or another.

His idiot friends laughed as I was dragged inside the bathroom. It was a spectacle for them, a real conquest in the making. The three stooges stopped just as we got in, trying to guard any exit. I was going to be George's by the end of this. With a knife in his hand, he shut me up with just a wave of it, getting me to whimper and accept my fate. Sure, he put his knife away and switched it with the camcorder but I knew better than to risk it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the sexiest bitch in this school to get fucked. Just look at that ass, mmm."

With a trace of his finger, he pressed on the crack of my ass through the denim fabric. He grabbed a large cheek, attempting to grab all of it before giving it a slight slap. I winced at the strange sensation, no man having touched me before. With a hard shove, he forced me inside a stall where I was forced to extend my hand to break my fall. My hands landed right on top of a closed toilet. This gave George the view of my ass that he loved so much. With a hand on my back, he continued to torment me. "So what am I going to do...let's see. I think I'm going to finger that ass and make a show out of it. I'm going to make you squeal and moan on camera, before getting a nice view of those tits. Then I'm going to shove my cock inside of your pussy, then your ass while you call me daddy. Yeah, I'm liking the sound of that."

"George please let me "

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

A loud slap on my ass echoed in the shabby washroom, a sharp sting getting me to yell out. Humiliation and degradation. Just what George wanted from me.

"Now to treat myself..."

He began to pull on my jeans from behind, getting some cleavage from my asscheeks. Cotton purple panties peeked out as he pulled slowly. Tears running down my face, I began to accept my fate.

"HEY! What the FUCK are you doing back there?"

Until my savior. A tall, beefed up security guard made his way inside. A new contract employee. A security guard with a fat son, who got sent home this week with a broken arm, caused by George no less. So I got out of there before George could have his way with me and that video he posted? Enough to get him kicked out of school, influence or not.

Watching the student get up, I got that flashback. Not too many memories get me to freeze up like this, but Cory Caldwell looked like the crude playboy from my high school days. A disgusting man who did all sorts of awful things to people. Got away scot-free too, at least most of the time. Many women were sexually harassed by that asshole; disgusting videos of his conquests regularly distributed with no consideration of the lives he ruined. I was nearly among them and even though I escaped through sheer luck, the memory still haunted me in the back of my mind. I'm thankful of where my life ended up, going from this shitty school to Ivy League. Even so, I still fear and hate that man. So try to imagine the mixture of fear and hatred pouring through my veins when I saw this cocky asshole get up in front of everyone and say some crude things, in the SAME tone of voice as George spoke, eight years ago.

I’m Cory ‘Eagle Eye’ Caldwell and I’d take two nights and a day to drain my sand into that hour-glass. Seriously though, Mendoza, do you put on those jeans or airbrush them on? I bet I could bounce a quarter off that ass from here.

Laughter engulfed the room. Many men howled at his confidence and lewd comments. The cheers, loudness and laughter fueled this man and his ego. Much like the Cory from my high school days, it made him feel invincible. He thought he could get away with it. He knew that he could get away with it.

“I’d eat that ass like groceries! Like she smugglin’ grapefruits in her pants!”

More laughter and more ridicule came my way. Part of me wanted to call for another teacher to help me control the situation, but I knew that doing so would just show weakness. I couldn't have that during my first day; those animals wouldn't ever forget it. No, I needed to do something myself and I needed to do it fast. Senior year high school students were like wild animals - wild animals that attack even more at the smell of fear. Even though, I couldn't muster the courage to act...at least not until I thought of my wonderful Simon. As cheesy as this might sound, I thought of what he would tell me to do. I needed to take control and even though I didn't feel that I could do it, I just needed to push myself. Fake it until I make it. If not for myself, then for him. For my eighteen year old brother sitting sheepishly in the back, not knowing whether to protect his sister or keep the secret and stay away from even more relentless bullying.

With a deep breath, which the students didn't even notice, I said out loud:

"QUIET!"

My tone, usually timid and soft, suddenly became sharp and assertive. Most of the class became quiet immediately and then I began talking, with a stern look for most of the class.

"I might be new here, but it doesn't mean that I'm new to teaching and maybe it's time for a little lesson." I began, lying through my teeth. It was my first time teaching anything but these idiots didn't need to know that. "See this guy here? The guy you're all cheering? He's a loser." I continued, pointing towards Cory.

"Every school has a Cory and they're always the same. Lots of boasting, lots of bullying but incredibly hopeless. Yep, you might think you're king of the world, but you're going to go nowhere. You're going to spend your years thinking that these years were the best years of your life and you know what? No one else will. You'll be the only one thinking that. And you know why? Because everyone else will have amounted to something."

I paused for a second before continuing "But I'll stop talking about what half this school probably knows by now. Two weeks detention and go to the principal's office."

Some idiot sitting next to him chuckle.

"Oh, sorry chuckles, what was that? You want Cory to have another week of detention? Well okay then. Three weeks of detention. Now get the hell out of here and don't come back until you get."

I think even Cory was caught by surprise. Me, the curvy teacher in front of him with the big ass "he could bounce a quarter off", must have looked like an easy victim but suddenly showed that she had claws. I'd blame him for being stupid, but quite frankly I didn't know that I had it in me either.

"Did I stutter? Get out of here before I call security. You have three seconds before this series of detentions becomes an expulsion. Yes, I have the ability to do that; that's the kind of pull you get when you're the only teacher here with an Ivy league degree. Get out of here. 3...2.."

 

[LitShark]

For a moment, the new teacher just kind of zoned out and stared at him like she was freezing up or on the verge of collapsing, but Cory didn’t press the advantage, he knew he’d already gone pretty far. But who would he be if he didn’t push the envelope, at least a little, and see what this new teacher was made of—but even expecting a bad reaction, Cory wasn’t ready for Mendoza’s reaction.

Ms. Mendoza screamed at the top of her lungs and launched into a tirade about how Cory was a loser and all types of over-the-line shit. The entire class sat stunned, wide eyed in surprise and at least a hint of terror. This wasn’t the kind of thing high school seniors hoped for on the first day of classes—especially when a third of them were football players, hoping for an easy A because they didn’t know the difference between the twentieth century and the twenty-first century.

“Jesus Christ!” Cory exclaimed in genuine shock as Ms. Mendoza transitioned to the second act of her tirade, “look, I’m sorry, okay? I was just playing around. A joke, you know? You don’t need to get all bent outa shape.”

No luck, Ms. Mendoza wasn’t even hearing him, it seemed like. She was even ripping into Kyle, his right tackle for barely stifling a laugh at her veritable meltdown. She was laying down weeks of detention at a time, not realizing that he had practice and wouldn’t be forced to miss games of anything—but she’d learn soon enough.

“Listen, Ms. Mendoza. I’m sorry, alright? I was out of line, let’s start over,” Cory said in a tone like someone trying to talk down a rooftop suicide jumper, “I’m Cory, I play quarterback. Good? Can we move on now? Talk about Barack Obama’s second term or whatever, okay?”

Cory had no idea if his plea for amnesty would work, but if whoever this Mendoza bitch thought she was expected to survive the semester, she’d better. Cory was obnoxious to those he liked, but he was the last person that anybody, least of all a new teacher, would want as an enemy.

“We good?”