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Dream Machine 2
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
DREAM MACHINE continues...
Chapter 3: Faculty Parking in the Rear
He walked up the steps to the large brick building. The nameplate said
"Miss Eliot's School for Girls." He knocked, and a woman answered.
"Ah. Dr. Jones. Do come in. I'm Miss Eliot." As she led the way down
the hall, he studied her. Thin, nearly forty, but still attractive. Black
hair pulled back in a bun, horn-rimmed glasses, tweed suit; just the right
look for a woman in her position.
They came to a door, with a room number stencilled on the frosted glass.
The voices of young girls could be heard through it, talking quietly.
Miss Eliot turned to him. "I'm _so_ glad you could take time out of your
busy schedule to assist us, Dr. Jones. To have an expert of your
caliber..."
He held up a hand to cut off her remarks, then motioned to the door. "Let
us begin." She nodded curtly, and preceded him into the room.
An even dozen young women, average age perhaps sixteen, were seated at
small wooden desks arranged neatly within the classroom. All the girls
were dressed alike, in plaid skirts and white blouses. They matched in
hair color as well; every one had jet-black tresses tied back with plaid
ribbons. The girls quieted when Miss Eliot entered and approached the
lectern. She addressed the class without fanfare.
"Now that the state mandates sexual education for private schools, we have
set up this class for that purpose. We are very lucky to have with us
today Dr. Jones, author of several clinical studies in the field. Dr.
Jones, the class is yours." With that, she stepped aside and turned to
him.
He addressed her as he made his way to the podium. "Could I ask you to
assist me today, Miss Eliot? I find it's always best to have an
experienced administrator around on the first day." She smiled slightly,
and nodded.
Placing his briefcase on a nearby table, he turned to the class. "Good
morning, girls. Let's not waste time on preliminaries, shall we? For my
first lesson, I'll need a test subject. Miss Eliot, is there one girl who
has misbehaved recently?"
The principal nodded, and moved behind a waiflike girl in the third row.
The girl blanched. "No, Miss Eliot, please! I..."
From somewhere, a riding crop appeared in Miss Eliot's hand. "QUIET!" The
crop snapped down, leaving a red welt across the student's lily-white hand.
The girl shrieked, then quieted, shivering.
"Come here, please." He smiled at the girl, and she shyly smiled back
after a moment. She stood up and approached the front of the classroom.
He caressed her cheek, getting another smile in return. Moving a chair in
front of the audience, he told her to bend over and grasp it for support.
She obeyed without question. Very good, he thought. Miss Eliot trains
them well.
He lifted her short skirt above her hips, then flipped it over her back.
She wore nothing underneath. "Excellent, Miss Eliot! I appreciate a
proper dress code!" The principal beamed.
"Since I'm sure you've all had the basics already, we'll start with a
slightly more advanced subject - anal sex." The "test subject" trembled,
but held her position. "The key," he said, reaching into his briefcase,
"is plenty of lubrication." He withdrew a large tube of K-Y jelly.
Removing his trousers, he revealed a massive penis, already stiff. He
began to coat the shaft with grease. As he worked, he continued to lecture
to his rapt audience. "Too much is better than too little." Covering a
finger with lubricant, he pushed it up the backside of the girl. She let
out a squeak, then suppressed any further outcry. He worked another finger
into her tight bottom.
"I think we're ready." He positioned himself behind the student and began
to rub the head of his penis between her buttocks. Her tremors were
transmitted pleasantly to his member.
"Normally, I go quite slow when breaking in a new subject." The girl
visibly relaxed, even with his penis pressing against her rosebud. "I
think today, though..." He rammed the entire length of his cock up her
rectum, encountering little resistance due to her lack of tension. She
screamed at the invasion, her sphincter clamping tightly - too late! "I'll
make an exception!"
He plowed into her once-virgin asshole, reaming her fully again and again.
The other girls looked on, enraptured; some began to drool, while others
slipped surreptitious hands beneath blouses and skirts.
A strand of Miss Eliot's hair had escaped its bun. The principal's eyes
were glazed, then snapped back into focus. She grabbed the girl nearest
her, pulling the student out of her chair, then shoving the girl's face
under the older woman's skirt. The girl knew what to do; apparently the
administration followed the dress code, as well.
With that, the student body went wild. Skirts flew back, revealing a
myriad of dark triangles and ruby lips. Blouses opened, and firm breasts
(unhindered by bras) slid into view. Manicured fingers plucked, teased,
pulled - sometimes on their bodies, sometimes on those of others. Girls
(those that could tear their eyes away from his pistoning shaft) kissed
their neighbors deeply, young tongues moving wetly against one another.
One daring girl mimicked Miss Eliot's pet, sliding between the legs of her
friend to lick and suck at an elusive clitoris.
The bright, attentive young woman in the front row never dropped her eyes,
though. She was fixated on his penis as it journeyed deep within the
bowels of her squirming classmate. In and out, plunging into that
vice-like tunnel, provoking gasps and cries from the innocent victim of his
lust. Well, perhaps some of them were due to his hands on her now-freed
nipples, twisting viciously at the taut nubs of flesh.
His hips moved relentlessly, powerfully thrusting his great penis between
the perfect globes of her buttocks. She was his completely; when his
scrotum bounced against her mons as his pubic hair ground against her anus,
he knew he couldn't get any deeper. His right hand moved to her clitoris,
and her body began to respond. When her head arched and she screamed with
the force of her orgasm, he couldn't hold back.
He pulled his greased organ out of her anus, then turned towards the
exceptional girl in the first row. "Take it!" he cried.
She dropped to her knees instantly, sliding forward to engulf his great
length in her mouth. (Fortunately for her, the school had a regimen of
daily enemas.) His grease-slicked cock moved easily into her throat. She
had obviously practiced this many times; perhaps with a janitor, perhaps
with her father. It didn't matter; he had no control left. Twisting his
fingers in her long black locks, he held her tight against his crotch as he
spurted into her mouth. His orgasm seemed endless, yet she swallowed every
drop of his sperm, not even coming up to breathe. When it was done, she
cleaned the grease from his softening shaft with her pale pink lips. The
pressure squeezed a last drop of come from him, landing on her quivering
tongue like a candied treat. Smiling beatifically, she looked up at him.
"Can I be your _next_ subject, Dr. Jones?"
-BEEEEEEEEEP-
He awoke bathed in sweat. His heart was pounding wildly, and a high-pitched
alarm emanated from the machine. His face was flushed; he felt like he'd
just run a marathon.
In a minute or two, his heart rate went down and the noise shut off. God,
his balls were _sore_! He felt his crotch; it was soaked, and sticky. His
penis was completely flaccid, and his emptied testicles were tight against
his groin.
After removing the contacts and snapping the machine off, he dragged
himself into the shower. Then to bed; he'd figure out a safer way to use
the machine tomorrow.
Yeah, right.
*******
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