School For Scandal Redux Mr White

This is a reworking of the original School for Scandal story. I have changed the perspective from first to third person. The first third of this story is more or less the same as the original School for Scandal: Chapter One, except with some minor adjustments. It then opens out in different ways, so please persevere or skip the first 3000 words if you recognise what you are reading. Much of this has been written in collaboration with the excellent Gunde from chyoo who receives my gracious thanks for being such a stalwart contributor.

A brief disclaimer: this story caters towards the following kinks: huge cocks, big tits, cock-enhancement, voluminous cumshots, superhuman stamina.

All characters in this story are over 18.

School for Scandal Redux: Mr White's Day

Being a substitute teacher was ordinarily an unforgiving occupation even at the best of times for Ian White. Trying to convince kids he was not an impediment between them and their favourite teacher, and keeping control of a whole classful hell bent on swinging from the chandeliers was not much of a job for anyone. As he was studying part time at university, it was perfect occupation to bring in a little money without making too many demands on his time. The demands it made on his patience were another thing entirely.

But today was going to be different. He had been rung up early in the morning by his agency and asked to go to a plush private school that he had never been to before.

Driving up the leafy avenue, Ian was surprised at how extensive the manicured grounds were. It was a million miles away from the usual sink-estate or inner city shitholes that he normally taught at. The building was a good hundred years old, brick built and with an impressive set of ionic columns flanking the entranceway. There was no-one else around; it appeared that he had missed the start of school, but this was excusable because his agency had only called him three quarters of an hour earlier that morning. He still made his way briskly across the car park and into reception, got buzzed through the security door and presented him to the desk.

The receptionist turned out to be a strikingly pretty woman in her late-twenties who smiled brightly at Ian as he made his way over toward her.

'Hi, I'm on supply today,' Ian said.

'Sure. Would you like to sign in the visitor's book for me?' she said.

As he leaned over the counter to pick up the book, something dropped inside Ian's stomach. The secretary was not dressed in the way that the school secretaries he knew were usually attired. For one thing, it was a gloved hand that handed him the pen, a long, tight, black latex glove that ran all the way up her arm. Ian's eyes followed the glove all the way up a creamy-skinned bicep that flooded out into a glorious expanse of cleavage, held upright by a latex bustier. He swallowed audibly as he took the pen. The receptionist winked at him.

It was not the sort of thing Ian felt equipped to query, and her saucy, self-assured wink answered as many questions as he could have asked in any case. Hastily, he scribbled his name and looked back at the receptionist, trying to talk to her face, not the set of busty protuberances that had popped out in front of him.

'Miss Taylor is head of supply,' she said, 'just take a seat and I'll give her a call.'

'Thanks,' Ian said.

'No, thank you,' the receptionist replied, checking the name Ian had signed, 'Mr White.'

Ian sat down in the waiting area across from her and crossed his legs fastidiously to prevent any obvious embarrassment. The receptionist, obviously keen to prolong it, rose from behind her desk and walked across the reception room floor toward him. She was indeed clad in bondage gear from head to foot, from every inch of her black high heels, up her black stockinged legs, to a tiny pair of PVC panties to a black leather choker. She was a vision. She actually knelt down in front of Ian.

'Can I get you anything while you wait? Tea? Coffee? Anything at all?'

'I'm fine, honestly, thank you, ' Ian said.

'Well, if you change your mind,' the receptionist said, 'I'll be right behind the desk, creaming myself with anticipation.'

With that, she got up and walked back over to the desk, the pert cheeks of her ass rolling deliciously away, leaving Ian dumbfounded and with no small tent pitched in his trousers. He looked at her as she sat back down, trying to rationalize the audacious come-on, and reeling from her seductive stare. To his utter disbelief, she locked her eyes back onto his, licked a latex finger, and pushed it downward underneath the desk. Ian could only guess what she was doing with it, but a wanton smile began to curve her lips.

Ian couldn't decide whether it would be ruder to watch her play with herself or pretend to ignore her, but even if he had begun to turn away the sounds of moisture and her sexy cooing would have penetrated his ears.

'Miss Benton!'

A sharp, disciplinarian voice knifed through the receptionist's moans of pleasure. Ian looked behind him. Standing over six feet tall, in what must have been six-inch platform heels, was what was incontrovertibly one of the most beautiful woman Ian had ever seen, if not the sexiest. She had observed the same themes as the receptionist, but taken the look slightly further with a black PVC cat-suit and matching hood. A long, bright blonde plume of ponytail protruded from the hood and cascaded over her shoulders. Her face would have shamed a supermodel, a flawless configuration of high cheekbones, lush, full lips, curved eyebrows and smoldering eyes. Her cat-suit was zipped open to the top of her belly, revealing a set of enormous, succulent breasts and hinting at sharply defined abs. In short, she was a walking wet dream, but she sounded pissed off, and the receptionist had stopped fingering herself and looked abashed.

'Miss Benton,' she repeated, 'We have a guest in reception, someone who is new to this school. What sort of impression is behaviour like that going to give?' The receptionist looked sheepish. The woman continued, 'Didn't you ask if he wanted to lick your pussy?'

Ian did a double take at the implication. He had at least expected the receptionist to receive some form of reprimand for her brazen carry-on, but the cat-suited woman was taking issue with the receptionist for not behaving sluttily enough.

'Come out from behind there,' said the cat-suited woman.

The receptionist obliged. Ian could see her latex panties had been thrust to one side and a wet pair of pussy lips were peeping through. She slipped her hand back down and recommenced frigging herself as she addressed the woman.

'Miss Taylor,' said the receptionist, chewing her lip as a small moue of pleasure escaped and indicating Ian, 'Mr White is here on supply today.'

Miss Taylor looked at him. 'I'm sorry that you haven't been welcomed appropriately to our school, Mr White. Please forgive our rudeness. Miss Benson is usually so accommodating to our visitors. Would you like to come with me?'

Ian followed her as she turned and went out into the corridor, leaving the buxom receptionist frantically rubbing her pussy and making even Miss Taylor's tall, domineering form only a slightly less preferable option to go after. Once he had begun to walk behind the elegant, long-legged vixen, watching the delectable sway of her peachy PVC clad buttocks sashay walk down the hall, Ian had trouble remembering that he was actually here to do a job of work. He caught up with Miss Taylor.

'So what lessons am I going to be teaching today?' he asked her.

'A bit of everything, I'm afraid,' she said. 'Have you been with us before?'

'No.'

'Well, we're a friendly sort of school. We have our own unique curriculum, it's part of the deal that we have with our benefactors and trustees, which means you might find the way we do things here a little bit strange, but just muck in and I'm sure you'll get used to it.'

They passed a group of girls loitering around the hallway. They looked to be 18, but, as seemed true to form, they were dressed just as provocatively as the staff. They all had the same six-inch platform heels of night-club strippers, black skintight latex stockings and tiny PVC skirts that appeared to function more like belts. Black PVC corsets and long latex gloves were again the order of the day. It was outrageous: likes something out of a particularly fevered fantasy, and it was happening to Ian. At work.

'Nice to see you girls are all in uniform for a change,' said Miss Taylor.

Uniform?

The girls giggled as Ian passed and shot him coy glances. I'll take you to the room where you'll be teaching first,' said Miss Taylor.

Ian stole a few glances inside the classrooms they passed. Even from the quick induction he was getting, the school seemed increasingly strange. Teachers and staff wearing fetish gear; students attired like porn stars. Even classroom was stacked full of girls just like the ones he'd seen. It was incredible.

'Your first lesson is in here. There's a teacher in there covering your class at the moment. You're to relieve her,' said Miss Taylor, 'in you go.' Miss Taylor opened the door to the studio to reveal the makeshift set of a doctor's surgery. Spotlit, centre stage, a big-titted woman wearing white thigh-high boots was on her knees in front of a group of six students, two girls and four boys. As she addressed the group in a totally formal manner, one of the boys was jerking his cock enthusiastically in her face. A long strand of sticky white fluid, presumably a mixture of saliva and precum, connected the tip of the boy's dick to the teacher's chin, which jiggled and danced as she spoke. She made no attempt to wipe it away.

'As you may notice,' Miss Taylor whispered in Ian's ear, so as not to interrupt proceedings, 'We have a very strict admissions policy for boys in this school. Absolutely no-one is allowed here unless they're at least seven inches. A good seven inches at that. It just wouldn't be fair on the girls....'

Judging by the size of the boy's cock, he hadn't had any trouble in the application process. The teacher on her knees seemed unperturbed by the huge dick being thrust in her direction, and continued to speak as the gooey rope teetered precariously from her chin.

'Now remember, when you take your facial at the end of act two, do try to stay in character. Amy, how do you think Geraldine would react to getting a hot jet of cum pumped into her face?' At this, the long strand of precum and saliva finally broke, slithered down the valley of her magnificent tits, and dangled down.

A girl dressed in the tight white latex outfit of a nurse pursed her pretty lips together and considered the question. 'Umm... she'd enjoy it?'

'That's right, she would. So how could you communicate that to the audience?'

'She could play with it?'

'Very good. Anything else?'

The other girl overlooking the scene piped up. 'She might suck the cock a bit more miss.'

The teacher nodded, 'that's right. So we have plenty of ideas. And you, Rachael, be thinking of how Mrs Prentice would behave in this situation, and after I've taken this facial, I want you to do exactly what you think your character would do. Ok, Jack, when you're ready, blow your load in my face, please.'

Jack had continued to pump his cock throughout his teacher's speech and was evidently close to doin just that. The teacher posed with her face no more than a couple of inches away from his dick and looked up at him. Abruptly, Jack let out a strangulated cry and arched his torso backwards as a giant jet of sperm shot out of his dick and arced over the head of his teacher, landing a good seven feet behind her on the sheets of the hospital bed. The teacher tutted in annoyance at his wayward aim, but as she rolled her eyes theatrically at the waste of jizz, another blast nailed her directly in the face, a terrifically forceful jet that splashed the bridge of her nose and splattered both her eyes. This had the effect of temporarily blinding her as a messy fusillade of cum leapt from Jack's cock into her hair and onto her forehead. Slightly disoriented, the increasingly cum-drenched teacher could only laugh as the thick jizz progressively erased her features, opening her mouth wide to allow a sticky spider web of white fluid to develop, linking her top and bottom lips. She wilted helplessly under the jets of come and collapsed into a fit of giggles. Huge blobs of semen dribbled from the teacher's chin onto her breasts as she attempted unsuccessfully to open her eyes.

The students were laughing too, appreciating how their teacher's decorum had been destroyed by a well-aimed welter of cum. It was almost inconceivable that the amount of jizz could have come from one set of balls. Jack, still fisting his tool, recovered from his exertions and joined the laughter. 'Sorry Miss,' he said, 'I've messed you up.'

'That's ok Jack, just make sure you save some for our opening night, Now, where's Rachael? I can't see anything.'

'Here Miss'

'Rachael, will you go to work on me, please, just as your character would. Just imagine you have the entire school watching you. There's plenty to play with, so use your imagination!'

Rachael tottered over and knelt in front of her teacher. She took Jack's protruding, still spasming dick in her hand and started to use it as a spoon, first scooping all the accumulation of spunk from her teacher's chin, smearing it over the head of the member and slurping off the messy load. After that, she gripped her hand round the veiny shaft and slapped it cheekily into the face of the gorgeous cumslut in front of her, first into her mouth, then around her cheeks and at one point gently plopping the large head over her teacher's eyesocket, plastering her eyelashes together an sloppily cementing the lid closed. By the time Rachael had released Jack's cock and let it flop downwards, lots of smeary ropes of jism joined it to the teacher's face, and she had fun slurping them away.

'Mmm,' said the teacher, 'if I could only see this, I bet it looks sexy as hell.' She finally managed to open her eyes and was confronted by Rachael's pink tongue lapping her way down her chin and onto her breasts. Rachael had somehow contrived to get nearly as messy as her teacher, and as she looked up from sucking a long pool of cum that was sliding inexorably from the underside of her boobs, a slimy strand slithered off her teacher's chin and slapped onto the end of her nose, causing her to giggle.

'Well,' said the drama teacher, 'it just goes to show, not matter how prepared you get for a facial, you can always get surprised.'

Next to Ian, Miss Taylor cleared her throat. Everyone looked to where they were standing over by the door. 'I've brought your relief, Miss Johnson. Mr White here can take over the rest of the lesson for you.'

The delectable Miss Johnson sucked an errant drop of cum from the end of her finger. 'That's a shame,' she said, winking naughtily at the remaining boys, 'I was just getting started. Well, I'm out of here, class. Be good for Mr White.'

Miss Johnson got to her feet, with Rachael still on her knees idly fondling Jack's cock. She slung a PVC jacket around her shoulders and came towards Ian and Miss Taylor. 'We're rehearsing the Joe Orton play What the Butler Saw,' she said to me. 'A slightly altered version, I understand, but the changes we've made show a certain joie de vivre, wouldn't you agree, Mr White?'

Ian stood dumbfounded, gazing at the stupefying amount of cum plastered all over her face and tits. He could even see the white streaks of jizz nestling in her hair as he groped for a response.

'It looks good from where I'm standing,' Ian managed, moving aside from her as she opened the door. Miss Taylor checked her before she left the room, reached out a gloved finger and lifted a tiny tendril of come that dangled underneath her chin, and licked it off: 'No point in this stuff going to waste,' she said.

'Why don't you come and help me clean up properly?' Miss Johnson asked.

'I think I will. Mr White. Enjoy the rest of the lesson. I'll be back before the end to give you your full day's timetable.'

With that, the two women walked out of the door. Apparently Miss Johnson's cumfaced dishevelment was nothing to be overly concerned about. Ian watched them disappear down the hall, closed the door, and faced his class.

'Well, what's next?' he said. Amy immediately thrust a copy of the play at Ian, curvy tits jiggling inside her latex nurse's uniform. 'Perhaps we could do the end of the play, sir?' She indicated a section of text. 'If you could read through it, we'll take up our cues. It's the part where they produce an, er, part of the statue of Winston Churchill.'

Ian took the copy of the play from the cute student, looked at the speech and read, 'The Great Man can once more take up his place in the High Street as an example to us all of the spirit that won the Battle of Britain.'

He looked up. Amy had repositioned herself on the hospital bed, legs akimbo. Ian could see her gently stroking her gorgeous little pussy. He read the stage directions. 'SERGEANT MATCH takes from the box and holds up a section from a larger than life-sized bronze statue. Deep intakes of breath from everyone.'

Ian looked up again. One of the boys had indeed produced an enormous dildo from a box and brandished it at Amy, who put her hands up to her cheeks in mock-horror. The expression on her face was priceless.

He read on, 'how much more inspiring if, in those dark days, we'd seen what we see now. Instead we had to be content with a cigar -- the symbol falling far short, as we all realise, of the object itself.'

Even before Ian had finished the speech a shriek of delight announced that the dildo had already fallen into service. The substitute teacher looked up to see Amy, with her tight white uniform hitched up over her thighs, plunging the huge prick deep into her pussy. That particular stage direction wasn't in the text. Neither was the way the boys as one opened their labcoats, produced a prodigious array of cocks and started jerking off.

This got Amy really hot, grinding and twisting the dildo in her cunt. Jack by this time had sat himself down, but Rachael, who had finished cleaning him off put herself to good use, kneeling down in front of two of the boys and massaging their balls. By the time she brought her mouth into play and started sucking on a pair of balls, Ian had lost interest in the play. With a cock in each hand and another in her mouth, she started to control the situation. This seemed unlikely, because each of the dicks was, to be frank, enormous. The one in her left hand couldn't have been smaller than ten inches, bulging obscenely with huge veins throbbing out of the massive shaft; Rachael rapidly jerked the full length of it, eliciting appreciative groans from the boy.

Amy had one eye on her friend's performance and the other seemingly on Ian. Noting his interest, she stopped fucking herself momentarily, rose, and walked towards Ian with the dildo still protruding from her sweet little cunt. Transfixed at this eighteen year old vixen walking towards him, Ian felt unable to move.

Rachael by now had industriously gathered all three picks and had them pressed together with her hands wrapped round the outside, so that it looked for all the world like she was jerking one enormous giant cock, one huge, pulsating, membranous mass of tumescent flesh. She spat gobs of saliva to lubricate the massive monstercock, and the efforts of that and the glistening precum leaking from each of the dicks resulted in a stream of fluid coating her hands and dripping onto the floor.

Meanwhile, Amy twitched the dildo in her pussy for her teacher's benefit, showcasing the tightness of the muscles of the walls of her honey box. 'Like what you see, sir?' she said. 'What about a cameo appearance in the play?'