Author's Note: This's a NonCon/Reluctance story (but mostly reluctance) and contains scenes of rough sex, sadism, humiliation, adultery and sodomy, including ATM. If the story doesn't sound like your cup of tea, please feel free to skip it. This's my first submission to this category, if you think I should write more for it let me know, and constructive criticism is always welcome. All the characters in this story are over the age of eighteen and you must be over that age, as well, in order to read on. Otherwise, have fun.
* * * *
Like every guy on the planet, I had the hots for one of my teachers. The name of my crush was Mrs. Griffin, my senior year English teacher, who was a conservative woman in her late forties. Mrs. Griffin was a beautiful lady. She had short red hair, which stopped a little before her shoulders, a dark pair of chocolate brown eyes and a simply gorgeous face - the type I could've stared at for hours.
She also had an amazing body, in my opinion. She was tall, maybe five-foot-ten or -eleven, and curvier than most women. I guess some would call her thick, but definitely not overweight. What's more, she had a pair of double D tits that looked like a fun time, a narrow waist, complemented with wide flaring hips and a big round ass that distracted me to no end in class. She was the total package.
Every day, after school, I would get home, rip off my pants and beat off to depraved thoughts of her. And, boy, were they depraved. You see, ever since this one movie I'd seen when I was younger, which featured a scene of a woman being taken by force, I've had some dark thoughts.
At first, I felt evil for getting turned on by a woman being put through hell. To the point I thought I needed professional help. But I was too embarrassed to bring these thoughts up to our school counselor, so I decided to go online and ask questions.
I soon discovered I wasn't the only person who got turned on by the idea of nonconsensual sex. Apparently, millions of people around the world did, both men and women, alike. And the advice I got was I could stop beating myself up and fantasize as much as I like. The important thing I needed to remember was not to act on those thoughts in real life. Which I didn't think would be a problem. I doubted I had the heart to actually rape a woman. I was too afraid of the repercussions, both legally and morally.
But with my conscience now at ease, I decided to go on porn sites to quench my thirst for violent sex, and I watched them all: "rape" videos - it was obvious it was only role play - bondage, sadism, blackmail, humiliation. I couldn't get enough. What's more, every time I jerked off to those images I pictured me doing it to one of the women in my life, and the woman who starred in almost every fantasy was Mrs. Griffin.
I didn't know why, but for some reason I wanted to bring her pain. Which was strange, because she was a really sweet woman, who I doubted had ever wronged anyone. In fact, everybody in my class loved Mrs. Griffin. She wasn't close to being as mean as some of our other teachers. But still, I wanted to do unspeakable things to her.
I knew that would never happen, though. She was a happily married woman and I doubted she'd ever two-time her husband.
Mrs. Griffin's real name was Carol, by the way. I knew this because that's what I got to call her on Sundays at church. Yep, she and I went to the same one. Her husband, David, was a pastor there and almost every week my family and I would go and listen to his services. He was a nice man and I always thought I'd burst into flames for having wicked thoughts about his spouse during church.
One Sunday morning, after church, as everybody sipped on tea and chewed on cookies, I had to excuse myself from a conversation with Mrs. Freelander, my seventy year old neighbor who lived down the street. She went on and on about how handsome I was and about how she wanted to introduce me to her granddaughter, Lily - I think that's what her name was. Mrs. Freelander even showed me a picture of her granddaughter on her phone. I had to admit, she wasn't a bad looking girl and I agreed on meeting her some time.
Anyhow, I'd excused myself because I needed to use the lavatory. When I got there I entered my stall, unzipped my pants and voided my bladder with a sigh. Before I could flush the toilet, though, I heard the main door creak open.
"Is there anybody in there?" said a man whose voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who the voice belonged to. His name stayed on the tip of my tongue.
"No, get in here," said another man. From listening to his services almost every week, I recognized the second voice to be Pastor David's.
"Okay, then, lock the door."
What the fuck?
I heard the sound of keys jingling before the door was locked. I was confused and about to announce my presence, but what I heard next kept my mouth shut and helped me understand what went on. "Now get over here," said Pastor David, which was followed by the sound of lips smacking.
I was stunned.
Why the hell is Pastor David kissing a dude?
I sat on the toilet and tried not to make any noise. I couldn't come out now. They would know they'd been found. The sound of lips smacking continued before I heard someone unzip their pants.
"We better make this quick," the pastor said, "before the wives wonder where we've gone."
"You're right, but I've really missed you, you know."
I sat, listened and waited for them to finish their business, regretting my decision to come into the restroom. But then a mischievous idea came to mind. There was a possibility I could get some money out of this situation. I pulled out my phone, put it on silence and then opened my camera. Then I slowly took off my shoes, stepped onto the toilet and carefully placed my freehand on top of my stall's door.
I peeked over the wall my stall shared with the next stall and looked over its door. I saw Pastor David. He stood on the other side of the restroom, facing the tiled wall my stall stood next to, and balanced himself against the sinks' counter. What's more, his head was tilted back, mouth was wide open and pants were around his ankles. And before him kneeled a man dressed in a dark blue suit, whose head moved back and forth.
I saw it, but still couldn't believe it; Pastor David committing adultery right after church - with a man! Who would've guessed?
And I thought I would burst into flames
. I brought my phone up, got them into the shot and hit the record button.
The sound of sucking filled the room as the mystery man continued to orally gratify the pastor. I zoomed in on Pastor David's face so there could be no doubt it was him and then got the man's head into the frame to verify what was being done. Recording the act was scary. I couldn't help ducking every time the pastor's head moved. I wondered what he'd do if he caught me. It wasn't time for him to know I knew his secret. I needed to make backups first. But luckily, he never looked my way.
Minutes went by as the blowjob continued. Then the pastor grunted as he gripped the man's head. I assumed he came. Once the man slid the pastor from his mouth, I stopped recording and carefully stepped off the toilet. I was happy with the evidence I had obtained, though thought I was probably going to hell for blackmailing a pastor - even if he deserved it.
"That was awesome," said Pastor David. "I owe you one."
"How 'bout you make it up to me tomorrow. I'm not going in for work. I can come around to your place when Carol goes to her job."
"That sounds like a great idea. Now let's get back to everyone before they come looking for us."
*
Later that night, as I lay in bed, I thought about the power I'd acquired with the footage on my phone, which I'd also copied onto my hard drive. At first, I had planned on blackmailing Pastor David for some cash. All he'd have to do was throw a few hundred dollars my way for me to keep what I knew to myself. It seemed like a fair trade. I didn't really need the money, but I could always make use of the extra change in my pocket.
However, after my last jerk off session, a more sinister idea crept into my mind. If blackmailing a pastor wasn't a good enough excuse to get a one-way ticket to Lucifer's pit, what I'd cooked up now definitely was. But as immoral as my plan was I wasn't going to pass it up. Opportunities like this came around but once in a lifetime and I planned on grabbing it with both hands.
I stayed up and plotted out my idea for the next couple of hours. I didn't want any mistakes and planned on executing it the next day. I drifted off to sleep with a big smile on my face. If all went well, tomorrow would be the beginning of a wonderful period in my life.
*
The next day, at school, right before lunch, I found myself in my favorite teacher's class. As always, Mrs. Griffin looked good enough to eat. With her hair loose and black rectangular glasses on, she wore a long white button up shirt, with her sleeves pulled up, and a beige skirt that hugged her hips, covered her knees - I think I've mentioned the word "conservative" before - and matched her stockings.
On her feet were a pair of black heels. And she topped everything off with a gold watch, bracelet, earrings and chain around her neck which held a cross. She'd also applied her makeup beautifully. It made her face pop and the only noticeable part of it was the deep red lipstick that covered her full looking lips. She looked utterly fuckable - if that passes for a compliment.
Soon the bell sounded. Everyone packed up their stuff and headed out for lunch. I sat in my seat and waited for the last person to exit the classroom. My heart pounded as I stood and made my way over to Mrs. Griffin, who sat at her desk and looked over papers.
It's time to do this.
"Great lesson today, Mrs. Griffin."
She looked up with a smile. "Why thank you, Ryan. Is there anything you'd like me to go over with you again?"
"Nooo." My head shook. "I just wanted to come over here and tell you how beautiful you look today."
