Date: Tue, 11 Mar 2003 19:06:42 +0000
From: CW
Subject: Afterschool Session By School Master

DISCLAIMER: This story is to be posted only on Free Erotic Story Sites and
depicts same sex erotic material involving a few horny students, their very
reluctant principal and the school's elderly but virile maintenance
engineer, with some slapstick, tickling and mild bondage thrown in for good
measure. So, if this sort of stuff upsets you, by all means, get the hell
out of here NOW. All of the characters here are portrayed by imaginary
actors over twenty-one years of age and no school administrators were
actually harmed during the writing of this story. Besides, these are only
imaginary images playing inside your head, so just suspend your disbelief
and enjoy.



Principal Chuck Bugher sat frozen by shock behind his desk after hearing
First Year Student Sylvester Rollins' damning accusations against some
fellow students. The student had requested an afterschool meeting with the
hard-nosed principal, and Bugher believed it was just another grievance
from the student body, whining again about the new stricter rules he had
implemented. But what the boy had to say came way beyond the furthest
reaches of left field, and if true, would create a scandal of such
disastrous proportion that it could possibly threaten his position as the
newly hired principal of James Wellington Academy, a private Arts school
for gifted boys.

"Now, let me get this straight," he said as his numbing disbelief from
hearing the boy's story subsided. He leaned forward, his elbows on his
desk, his fingers forming a tight steeple. "You mean to tell me that there
are boys engaging in...in sexual practices with each other and it's taking
place here--on school property?"

Sylvester, standing in front of the principal's desk and tring not to wilt
under the intense, angry glare of Mr.  Bugher's icy steel gray eyes, nodded
quickly.

"Uh huh, eh, I mean yes sir," he answered, remembering Principal Bugher's
rules about the boys using only correct English and not slang while in the
presence of adults.

"Just how long has this been going on? And where in heaven's name is it
taking place? Who is behind this disgrace--give me details son!"

Sylvester lowered his eyes and shifted his weight from side to side, his
hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Well," he began with a mumble, "Ken Collins, Dave Mans-"

"Damn it, speak up boy!  You're the one who came to me with this evil
information, so let's not have any reluctance on your part now!"

"Ken Collins, Dave Manson, Willie Smitts," Sylvester answered louder,
forcing his hands to his sides and facing Principal Bugher's gaze. "They're
the ring leaders; I mean, they came up with the idea and see over
everything, but there are other guys who participate in the session."

"The what?"

"That's what Ken likes to call it, the session. He says that there's
nothing more relaxing than doing sex: blow jobs, hand jobs, whatever--it's
a real neat way for us to get some relief from the pressures of dealing
with all the new restrictions here at Wellington because since you were
hir--" Sylvester hesitated and quickly looked away from the man.

Bugher took off his black horn-rimmed glasses, placing them on his desk. He
slowly sat back in his chair, running a large hairy hand briskly over his
short gray crew-cut a few times, a cold, half smile on his pock-marked
face.

"Go on son, finish it--since I was what--hired as the new principal?"

Sylvester nervously played with the tops of his school uniform trouser
pockets, tring to avoid revealing to Mr. Bugher that most of the students
and some of the teachers really couldn't stand him or his overly
militaristic rules and regulations for establishing discipline and order at
a school whose student body never saw itself with a disciplinary
problem--Wellington was cool, a small school with a strong emphasis on fine
arts after all; it was not some correctional institution for delinquent
teenage boys.

Bugher pushed himself away from his desk and stood up, the knot of his red
tie pulled down from his loosen collar, his small round paunch stretching
the buttons of his tight discount department store white dress shirt which
sagged a bit over the big silver buckle of his wide, black leather belt. He
moved around to the front and sat on the edge of his desk, one leg raised
slightly off the floor to show a sliver of hairy white skin between the
cuffs of his too short pant leg and the top of his drooping black wool
socks. Sylvester stepped back a pace.

"Hey, it's all right, I've got a pretty good idea of what many of the
students truly think of me," he said, still smiling coolly, folding his
arms across his chest.

"Mr. Ransom ran this place like he was a cuddly, absent-minded uncle and
all of you his own personal, precocious little nephews who he catered to
because he believed you were all gifted and needed to be pampered to bring
out the best in each of you have to offer. Well, he's out of the picture
now, and he's not coming back, so get this into your head: I'm not your
uncle, your daddy and I'm sure as heck not here to be anyone's friend. I
have a job to do and for the last five weeks that's just what I've
done. I've brought order and efficiency to an aging, nearly obsolete three
grade institution on the brink of having its doors closed forever. So, as
much as everyone here may not want to face it, playtime son is over."

Bugher stood up, sliding his fingers down the top of his light brown
polyester pants, letting his thumbs grace the metal of his belt buckle and
cocking his left leg.

"I'm here to prepare a bunch of soft, artsy fartsy momma boys for the
realities of adult life," he continued, "How one becomes a real man,
through honest work and tough challenges, not from learning how to play the
cello, understand obtuse poetry or paint pretty pictures."

"Yes sir," Sylvester answered weakly. "It's just that...see, your, eh,
changes, they...well--we all liked learning about the Humanities, sir, and
now, not being able to see the movies we like, not able to read certain
books anymore, we're even denied taking music and art classes if we don't
excel in your phys. ed. program...it's, well it's just that we wouldn't be
here at Wellington, we'd be enrolled in a regular public school if we had
been interested at all in the stuff you think is so important--Sir!"

Bugher leaned in towards Sylvester who took another step back from the
tall, imposing principal.

"Sooo, you're telling me because I'm so much harder on you boys than the
last principal, things are now just so darn stressful because I simply
demand more from all of you, that it's my fault and I'm the reason why
those little perverts are having these homosexual gatherings?" Bugher shook
his head and growled. "Collins, Manson, Smitts--those little delinquents
have been nothing but thorns in my side from day one. But if what you've
told me is true, my school will finally be rid of those trouble making
rowdies and anyone else involved in their sick hijinks!"

Bugher suddenly eyed the boy suspiciously.

"And Mr. Rollins, just why are you informing on your fellow classmates? How
do you know about this activity?"

Sylvester shuffled about, looking down at his feet. Then he slowly raised
his head up, a pained look on his face as he looked the principal in the
eyes.

"Ken said that for me to belong to the group since this is my first year
here, I had--I had to suck his...to suck him off! A-and after I made myself
do it, he and the other guys just laughed at me, said I was lousy and
couldn't do it right, and I would never be part of the group! So...so the
heck with them all!  A-and why should I have to do such disgusting things
like that just to belong anyway?"

Bugher, fired up by the boy's confession, stepped swiftly back behind his
desk, picked up his glasses and put them on. Then grabbing his suit coat
off the back of his swivel chair, he looked at his watch, slid on the coat
and paused, giving Sylvester a hard stare.

"You said this is just around the time this perversion happens," he said
putting his hands on his hips. "Well, I want you to show me exactly there
it all takes place."

"Umm, are you sure you really want to go there now sir?"

Bugher stepped forward to tower over Sylvester and stared down at the
teenager over the rim of his glasses.  Looking up into the man's
no-nonsense face, Sylvester swallowed loudly, then led the Principal out of
his office.

"Just follow me Mr. Bugher," Sylvester said. And while the principal began
to form a plan in his mind on how to best deal with any students caught in
the filthy act, he failed to see the mischievous smile on Sylvester's
pimply face as they headed down the hall towards the stairwell.



The stairwell led down to the first level rear exit of the Administration
Building. They walked silently across the quadrangle in the waning light of
the mid-November afternoon, the sun setting behind the roof of the west
dormitory wing, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Bugher realized
Sylvester was taking him towards a small, squat structure which was not
connected to the rest of the school, Building E, where the janitor's
quarters and miscellaneous storage rooms were located. The building was off
limits to students unless they had permission from the staff. If anyone was
in any position to be aware of any unusual activity going on, it would have
been Joe Simmons, the grounds-keeper. Yet the old relic has never reported
anything out of the ordinary to him. Bugher debated with himself often over
whether or not he should get rid of the doddering old fool, but if this
sinful practice was indeed going on and his janitor never bothered to
inform him or the staff, then the offending boys would not be the only ones
severely punished before this day was done!

As they approached the building's door, Bugher turned to the student and
asked: "Mr. Rollins, since this door is always locked, and with Mr. Simmons
and I having the only set of keys, just how--"

Bugher stopped as Sylvester flashed a key. "Ken made a copy!" Sylvester
said, smiling at the principal while inserting the key. He watched shock
and disapproval scrunch Bugher's face into a scowl of anger and his own
smile fled from his lips as he unlocked the heavy door. The man grabbed the
boy's shoulder as the door swung open and Sylvester reluctantly dropped the
key into the principal's outstretched hand.

"I will get to the bottom of this," Bugher said, dropping the key into his
suit coat pocket. "And believe me, heads are going to roll!"

Down pass the short hallway, which had two doors on each side, labeled
storage and supplies, and off to the right was a stairwell leading towards
the building's basement. Sylvester motioned for the principal to proceed
quietly as muffled voices could be heard coming from below. Eight steps led
down to a small landing where stood several small book cases and metal
storage racks full of thick, dusty books and miscellaneous
supplies. Another short series of steps led from the landing where more
books and papers were stacked against a wall to a door, the upper part of
which was made of marbled glass with J-A-N-I-T-O-R stenciled upon the
surface in bold letters. Bugher could make out vague shapes moving on the
other side and heard laughter and excited voices.

Sylvester moved forward and lost his footing on the stairs, catching
himself with the railing, but not before bumping against a pile of books,
sending them crashing loudly to the floor. Hoping that the boy's clumsiness
had not destroyed his element of surprise, Bugher grabbed Sylvester and
placed a finger against his lips indicating for him to be still.

For a moment there was silence from the other side of the door. Then
slowly, the voices started up again, this time a bit more subdued. Bugher
stepped in front of Sylvester, who was hanging back looking down at his
feet, somewhat chagrined. The principal tip toed over to the door, gently
placing his left ear against the glass while he grasped the door knob,
checking to see if the door was locked. As he turned the knob, slowly
opening the door by a crack, Bugher suddenly felt himself pushed hard from
behind, knocking open the door and falling flat upon his face into the
room. The wind momentarily knocked out of him, the man managed to
sluggishly raise himself up onto his hands and knees, staring up at the
smirking teenage faces of Collins, Manson, Smitts and five other boys whose
names had for the moment escaped him, all of them totally naked and
standing around the living quarters of Simmons the old janitor, who had his
gray work shirt completely unbuttoned, his chest a forest of long white
hair. His work pants and underwear were pooled around his ankles, his big
fist jerking hard on a thick, heavily veined, erect penis, below which hung
a set of low, white fur-covered testicles.

Ken Collins, tall, slender, his short brown hair parted on the right side
of his head with a whisper of a thin mustache growing on his thin, upper
lip stepped forward.

"Well, hi there Principal Booger," he said smiling down at the startled man
who was still in shock from taking in the graphic scene of debauchery
staged before him. "I'm so glad Sly was able to encourage you to join our
little session in stress management! And congratulations Sly for carrying
out your assignment like a real pro. Whatever you said to get him here
obviously worked , so you are now officially the newest member to the
session!"

Bugher, finally able to gather his thoughts together, stood up on his
knees, adjusted his glasses and brought his hands up to his hips.

"Why, I've never seen such--you, you disgusting little perverts! Just what
in sam hill is going on? And YOU, Simmons! Here--with these--these naked
boys? Mark my words, man--I'll see to it that you get a hundred years under
the prison for this abomination you child mol--"

But Bugher never got a chance to complete his threat, because at that very
moment, Sylvester crept up from behind, carrying the Annotated Unabridged
Works Of William Shakespeare in his hands and brought the humungous tome
down hard onto the top of the principal's flat, gray crew-cut head.

There was a loud WHUAPPP!  Bugher went silent; then a lopsided grin slid
across his craggy face as his bugged out eyes slowly crossed behind his
glasses. His arms fell limply to his sides, his head tilted to the right,
and he swayed, sitting back on his heels for a few moments before Sylvester
touched his back with the tip of his outstretched finger, toppling the
dazed principal forward onto the carpeted floor, while off somewhere in the
room a coo-coo clock on the wall sounded, ushering Chuck Bugher into soft
unconsciousness while also announcing the arrival of five p.m. and the
beginning of another session at James Wellington Academy.


When Bugher came too, the first thing he noticed was that he was laying on
a small bed...the second thing was that he found himself completely naked.

"Oh--my--Lord...W-What's going on--" he stammered and tried to move his
arms and legs; and that's when he discovered the third thing--his arms and
legs had been duct-taped to the railings of the head and footboard of an
old fashioned single bed, and he was tightly secured, spread-eagle and
surrounded by Collins and the others, still naked, all with their hands
behind their backs. Old man Simmons was there as well, also naked, his thin
body showing surprisingly good muscle tone for a man his age.

Bugher, suddenly realizing his helplessness at the hands of these
incorrigible students, tried to make his voice ring with authority as he
made eye contact with Collins.

"Uh--you know that by assaulting and tying me up like this, you will face a
severely harsh punishment...all of you will," he said, turning to gaze at
the other boys as they crowded around the bed. "B-but if you stop this
right now, the only punishment you will face is expulsion, not criminal
charges--that is if you release me this instant."

Simmons, who was at the foot of the bed standing next to Sylvester, waved
his arm as if he was a student tring to get the attention of his teacher.

"Ooh!  Ooh! And what about me, the Child Molester? You gonna just throw an
old man out into the cold?" he asked, a contrite look upon his age-lined,
weathered face.

Bugher's eyes narrowed, flashing anger as he glared at the janitor in
disgust.

"I'll see to it that they lock you away until you rot, you sick pervert!"
Bugher hissed at the man as he strained against his bonds.

A frosty smile crossed Simmons' face as he stared back hard at the
restrained principal.

"Oh gee," he said.  "And me just one year away from retiring too."

Collins dropped something to the floor, sat on the bed and leaned in close
towards Bugher.

"But Principal Booger, Mr. Simmons is a dear, dear friend of ours and we've
taught each other so much! We can't let you just toss him out like
yesterday's garbage, not when all he has done is enjoy himself using our
unique relaxation techniques, isn't that right guys?"

A chorus of: "Yeah, that's right," and "Just chill out Mr. Bugher," and
"It's all just good fun," rang out from the youths.

"Y-you boys don't know what you're saying," Bugher answered, amazed by
their defense of Simmons and of their own shameful practices. "It's obvious
to me that you all have been manipulated by this evil man whose only using
you for his own sexual gratification! This isn't healthy behavior boys;
surely you must realize how harmful this all is!"

"You dumb asshole," Simmons said. "Hell, I didn't manipulate nothing! It
was these boys who helped me see the light, infact right here on this same
bed...showed me just, eh, how to chill out and go with the flow, so to
speak."

"Nonsense!" Bugher spat back at him. "How could a bunch of teenage boys
seduce a normal, grown man into participating in this deviant behavior?"

Collins raised himself from the bed, bending over to retrieve what he had
dropped on the floor.  Bugher saw that it resembled a long handle feather
duster, with only three or so very large feathers sticking from its base.

"Well Mr. Booger, if you really want to know, well by all means, let us
show you exactly how it is done; shall we guys?"

Everyone pulled similar looking objects from behind their backs and
advanced upon the bound principal.

A worried look came into Bugher's eyes as he suddenly realized what was
about to happen.

"N-now boys," he stuttered, "You really don't plan
tooooo--Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!S-S-stop, oh
godohgod!Nooo!Ohhh!Heee!Heee!S-stop!No!No!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!"

Bugher roared as the boys tickled his body mercilessly with their
feathers. The bed springs creaked loudly as the principal bounced up and
down on the bed, rocking it as wild laughter erupted from his mouth. The
boys tickled him everywhere: his armpits, his gray matted chest and little
round belly, his thighs, calves, between his legs, and ofcourse his
feet. Infact Simmons was running his tongue all over Bugher's big right
foot while Sylvester used his fingers to dance across the sole and toes of
his left one.

The minutes ticked away and Bugher thought the tickling would never
end. Tears flowed from his eyes and his throat was raw; it was getting
difficult for him to catch his breath from all the laughing, and yet the
feathers continued caressing his body until he thought that he would either
go totally insane or pass out from the persistent tickle torture.

Finally, Collins said, "Ok guys, I believe he's had enough--for now. Let's
give him a bit of a breather before we begin the next session."

Bugher lay whimpering on the bed, his laughter slowly subsiding. Through
his confused, mental haze, he made out the clock coo-cooing seven times; he
also wondered if he had heard correctly, that the Collins boy said
something about letting him rest before beginning another session? God No,
he thought, he wouldn't be able to take anymore of this! He had to do
something and do it fast!

"Heeheeuhhhh," he uttered, tring to catch his breath. His face was flushed,
his heart pounded like a hammer in his chest, and his body was drenched in
sweat. He trembled a bit, his skin tingling; and now he suddenly realized,
much to his embarrassment that blood had rushed to his crotch and his
member was slightly engorged, becoming extended against his hairy thigh.

"You--you boys have got to let me go before this gets anymore out of hand,"
Bugher gasped. "Before...before long, someone will notice I'm
missing...someone will come looking--looking for me, you know...you--you
can't keep me here...forever..."

"Not forever Sir," someone said. Bugher saw that it was the boy Manson, a
stocky African-American boy who Bugher had caught on his first day as
principal tring to let the air out of the tires of his Corolla. "Just long
enough to release all that nasty ol' pent up tension that's made you such a
pain in our asses these pass few weeks."

"Yeah, Boogity Boo," another boy, Smitts this time chimed in. "Besides,
it's Friday, remember? Most of the teaching staff has left to enjoy the
weekend, and the other guys are busy sneaking around secretly enjoying all
those things you denied them; besides, everyone knows how much you love
burning the midnight oil alone in your office late on Fridays."

"But just in case," Collins added, "Billy Winston is sitting outside the
door of your office to deal with any inquires should they arise, which I
seriously doubt will even be a problem, so just relax."

"You little monsters!" Bugher angrily shouted. "Simmons, do something man!
You can't let them continue to torture me like this!"

Simmons, hungrily staring at Burger's fat cock, smiled and said, "Oh, I
don't think it's been all torture for you Chucky, judging by how your big
piece of pipe has risen between your legs. Nice pipe by the way--I'm gonna
just love taking my turn sucking on that big, heavy baby."

"You sick bastard!" Bugher spat. "I would throw up yesterday's breakfast if
you come anywhere near my--my privates! You can't force me to go along with
this--Lord, you all disgust me!"

Collins reached over and roughly grabbed Bugher's cock and began rolling it
between his palms like it was a column of biscuit dough.

"Oh!Oh!Oh!Aggggg!" Bugher moaned, "S-stop that young man! Ohhhhhhhhhh!!"

Collins released it after a few moments and watched it pulsate as it grew
harder, but then, after a few moments began to soften a bit.

"Hmmmm," he said, watching the cock droop. "Well, I think the Principal's
Little Assistant here just needs some moral support. Joe, go get the other
party favor...Mr. Booger here is a little under dressed at the moment."

Simmons, smiling, gave Bugher a wink and went into another room. When he
returned, he handed a device to Collins and the other boys snickered.

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Manson said, squeezing his own rather
impressive cock. Smitts moved closer to the man, placing his hands over
Bugher's eyes so he couldn't see.

"Hey, stop that--remove your hands Mr. Smitts!" Bugher demanded. Then he
felt someone else's hands, Collins most likely, fiddling with his penis and
testicles, pulling and squeezing, then finally placing something tight over
his organ. When Smitts removed his hands, Bugher looked down and saw that a
ring had been placed at the base of his penis while his testicles had been
pulled down and separated by tight leather straps. It was uncomfortable for
a while, but the discomfort was soon replaced by the sensation of blood in
his body quickly being forced down and trapped inside his penis which
suddenly began to throb and pulsate again.

"Good Lord," Bugher gasped. "W-what is that--that thing?"

Smitts snorted. "I'm not surprised you don't know a cock-ring when you see
it," he said. "Man, you do need to be educated!"

"It's to help your Little Assistant express its joy," Collins said, lifting
up his tickler. "And so is this."

"Let me do the honors," Manson said, bringing forth his tickler and
reaching for Collins' as well.

Collins, making an elaborate bow from his waist and handing over his
tickler, gave an exaggerated wave of his arm to Manson who climbed between
Bugher's legs from the foot of the bed. He sat on his knees, pressing his
legs hard against the insides of the bound man's thighs.

"Remember that detention you gave me a while back because of your stupid
tire Mr. Bugher?" Manson asked through a toothy grin. "Well, I forgive
ya. I realize that you can't help it that you're just one really uptight
ol' white dude, so to show you that there are no hard feelings, I'm going
to help drain off some of that pent up tension for ya!" And with that,
Manson began caressing the principal's large swollen balls with his
tickler.

Bugher's eyes bulged as the most incredibly sensual as well as irritating
sensations flowed up from between his thighs. He didn't know what he wanted
to do more: scratch his testicles because of the itch caused by the
feathers, or give in to the rush from the build-up of a powerful
orgasm. When he felt Manson use the other tickler on his penis, he almost
lost it.

"Ohhhhh, my Lorddddon't, ohhh--" Bugher groaned ,slowly undulating his hips
as waves of pleasure began to cascade over his body. Never before had he
ever ever felt anything quite like this. How could these teenagers know
about such things?  Is this what Simmons ment when he said something about
the boys making him see the light? Bugher closed his eyes and gave up tring
to resist the boys' sexual assaults because, hell, it was just simply
feeling too damn good!

Then Manson reached out and gave Bugher's cock a few hard squeezes before
using only one tickler and concentrating on the big bulging head of the
principal's cock.

Bugher tossed his head from side to side as he experienced what felt like a
thousand tiny fingers roaming all over the head of his penis. He began to
raise and lower his body as if he was having intercourse. And this was
strangely unique for him because he was taking things slow and leisurely,
and taking his time during sex was something he usually didn't do, not that
he had that many experiences in his forty-eight years to brag about. Sex
never had interested him much; it was something to give in to once or twice
every few months when the urge hit him. He had spent much of his time
getting his teaching credentials, then after a short stint on the local
police force, found himself in Education Administration. But if any of his
infrequent sexual encounters of the past had ever felt anything like this,
there was no doubt he would have dipped his wick a lot more often!

Bugher raised his hips up high as he felt himself reaching a fierce climax,
eagerly anticipating the explosion of pleasure he was about to feel upon
ejaculating his sperm into the air. But then, all of a sudden the tickling
stopped. He flung open his eyes to see Manson sitting back on his heels
grinning at him.

"N-n-no! Don't stop--" Bugher pleaded. "Finish it!"

Collins reached over from the side and flicked Bugher's cock with his
finger.

"Oh no, Mr. Booger," he said. "We can't have you popping off just let! We
need for everyone to have a chance to play with your big ol' Board Of
Education. And my oh my, just look at how nice and big you've grown Sir!"

Bugher was beginning to realize why Collins put that device on his member,
which throbbed hotly between his legs. It seemed to keep the blood trapped
there while the tightly synched straps stretching his testicle aided in
preventing him from ejaculating too soon. And to his horror, he knew that's
exactly what the little demons had planned: to repeatedly bring him to the
brink, back away, only to then start the cycle all over again!

"Well, breaktime's done," Collins said as Manson climbed off the bed.

"Now it's my turn," Simmons said, reaching into his mouth. He pulled out
his dentures and tossed them at Manson as he climbed on the bed.

"Here, hold these," he said as the teen caught them on reflex.

"Oh, YUCK," Manson said, dropping the soggy teeth on the bed. "How many
times have I told you not to throw these creepy things at me--what am I,
The Keeper Of The Teeth?"

Simmons shot him a hard stare over his shoulder.

"You better pick them up kid," he said in a low voice, "If you know what's
good for ya. Go put them in my glass like before--go on."

Manson grunted, and did what he was told, but not before muttering to
himself, "Toothless ol' fruit," under his breath.

Simmons crawled towards Bugher and grabbed the man's cock, jerking it up
and down fiercely. Copious amounts of pre-cum flowed from the tip to leak
over his hairy fingers.

"Nooooooooooohhhhhhgod!" Bugher groaned through gritted teeth as
introspection regarding his predicament was swept away by the pleasure from
Simmons' pumping fist.

Simmons smiled coldly at the helpless principal and cocked his balding head
at an angle, gazing hard at the man writhing on the bed, totally at his
mercy.

"Naw, I ain't God, but when I'm done with you Chucky Boy, I'm gonna have
you believing that He's standing before you," he said. He lowered his mouth
slowly over Bugher's thick cock, swallowing it all the way down to the
base, burying his nose deep in Bugher's pubic hair, while gently massaging
the principal's balls, large and bulging from the build-up of cum from
within.

Bugher's mouth dropped open and his eyes flickered as Simmons gummed his
way up and down the huge organ, nipping at the stalk, then pulling up to
dart and swish his tongue over the head, while mildly biting below the
mushroom cap.

Bugher was screaming inside his head from the intoxicating
torture. Unbelievably intense sexual pleasure ravaged the bound principal's
senses, pushing him far beyond anything he had ever experienced before in
his life. Bugher on the one hand wanted nothing more than for the sucking
and nibbling to stop so he could gather his wits together; and yet, on the
other hand, like some starving addict, he craved for more. Simmons eagerly
complied with Bugher's unspoken demands, his spit mixing with Bugher's
heavy flow of pre-cum as he completely engulfed the throbbing cock with his
mouth, swishing his tongue all over the steel-hard organ for long, long
minutes, using slow, continuous, circular motion around the huge cock.

Saliva trickled from the corners of Bugher's mouth, his head thrown back
against the pillows. He found himself racing yet again towards a climax as
total release was just within reach. But it wasn't ment to be, because once
again, relief was snatched away from him as Simmons suddenly pulled back
off his penis, giving the head one final hard suck and tongue swirl,
darting it in and out of the piss slit several times before releasing the
organ to pound big and hard in the air.

"NOOOOOOOO!!" Bugher wailed in frustration. "Y-You can't stop now for
christsake!!"

Simmons, scooting back off the bed, wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand and after Manson handed him the glass containing his dentures, flashed
his fake pearly whites at the Bugher.

"Oh, I'd like to bring you off there bossman, drink down all that sweet
principal cum just boiling down there in those big, juicy balls of
yours...but we all agreed to let someone else have the honors, so patience
big fella, patience!"

Bugher thrashed angrily upon the bed, futilely struggling against his
restaints.He was fully aware of the heavy weight down below his belly as he
moved about the bed and it felt as if he had a mammoth sequoia rising up
from between his widely spread legs. Through his tears of misery and
frustration, he glanced down at himself to see his penis, almost purple
from so much blood, throbbing huge and hard. He had never seen himself so
big before--never realized he could even sprout an erection this massive,
and despite the severity of his situation, found himself impressed by the
grand length and girth of his towering erection and concluded that he
actually found being bound to a bed and forced to endure endless sexual
stimulation from the teenagers was beginning to disgust him less and
less. At the same time it excited him to libidinous heights beyond his
wildest imagination which, in all honesty, had been pretty tame when it
came to sex.

And Simmons, Bugher thought to himself--his monstrously delicious mouth was
almost a lethal weapon! It had only taken the boys a few hours to bring him
to this state, a state of mind where if they had wanted to they, they could
have gotten him to promise anything, confess to anything, just so long as
they continued to stimulate him so masterfully. He knew this to be utter
madness, but oh, what sweet, sweet madness it was and he was now willing
than ever to continue his downward spiral into the boys' savagely beautiful
sex-filled hell--now...if only the little torturers would just let him
ejaculate for christsake!

"Ok gentlemen," Bugher soon heard Collins say through his sex-fueled haze,
"Let's bring this baby home. Line up on each side of the bed...good. Now,
we're going to jack him off, but not let him cum--not yet. We've got to
save that love juice for the grand finale. So, Jake you go first--short
strokes now, nothing fancy; then you go next Willie, followed by Dave,
Andy, Forrest, Clark, Randy, Joe, me and then finally, our initiate Sly
will have the honor of making Booger shoot his wad! So, it's agreed? Good!
Then let's pump this guy up!"

And as Jake, a fat-faced red headed kid with a very knowledgeable hand,
firmly grasped the principal's raging hard-on, Bugher felt reality slip
swiftly away as the boy's fist slid up and down his greasy pole.

"Ohohohohohooooooooooooooooooooooh," Bugher moaned as the teen fisted his
penis. The others soon got their chance, hardly missing a stroke as one
hand was replaced by another, then another and then another still, all
varying in size and grip strength(one grip stronger than the
others--Simmons, no doubt), each pumping the engorged cock for several long
minutes before giving up their position to the next waiting hand.

"Uhmmmmmmmmmmore...more...more, ohhhhhhyessss!" Bugher exclaimed over the
loud squishy noises, a small inquiry glowing hotly in the deep recesses of
his mind, a question on just where in heaven's name did these boys acquire
such potent knowledge of sex and on how to pleasure someone to this degree?
They put what little skills he possessed in such matters to shame--heck, he
had to believe not even the adults he associated with had such
talents...and yet these teenage boys had completely broken him!

"Ohhmygosh...I-I don't believe it feels so--so--soooooooohhOh!Oh!Oh--"

"Feels kinda all right, eh Mr. Booger?" The question was asked by Collins,
But Bugher was almost too far gone to be aware of anything other than the
pure pleasure radiating from his erection to envelop his entire body.

"Now, for the piece de resistance," the teen continued. "Young Sylvester
Rollins, if you would be so kind as to step up to the plate and do your
class proud!"

Bugher felt two small hands begin rapidly pumping his penis and heard a shy
voice say: "You want us to face our problems like adults, so I'm going to
use all I've learned to make you cum like you've never cum before Mr.
Bugher--just like a real man!"

Then, while the hands quickly pumped away, a small mouth sucked hard on the
head of Bugher's cock like it was a pop-sicle.

"Ohhhh!Ohhhh!Ohhhh!Ohhhh!"

Suddenly, all the others crowded in, watching Sly hungrily suck on
Burgher's straining cock. Collins reached over and tugged at the leather
straps, releasing the pressure and the tight grip on Bugher's bulging ball
sac. The group then began to chant: "Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!" while pounding
their fists into their palms in a syncopated rhythm creating a steady
back-beat for their chant.

"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"

"Ohh! Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!"

"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"

"Ohh! Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!"

"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"

"Oooohooohoommmmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm! Mmmmooohhughoh! Oh!  Yessss! Yessss!
Goddammmmmmooooh! Cheese and rice--I'M FUCKINGCUMMMMMINGGGGG!!!!!!"

And just as Sylvester moved his mouth from off of the mushroom cap, Bugher
went rigid and thrust his hips high into the air as a huge stream of milky
white cum exploded up into the air. Bugher thrust again and again while
Sly, still pumping the cock, aimed it towards Bugher's chest as volley
after volley of thick, heavy cream shot like a gusher from the principal's
powerful pump to land on his chest, neck and face in ropes of sticky goo.

Finally, after the last of the eruptions tapered off to a modest flow
dripping from the head of his penis, a loud, fulfilled sigh of contentment
ushered from Bugher's lips as he leisurely stretched back upon the bed, all
of his pent up tension gone, his eyes unfocused and slightly crossed
beneath his hooded lids. It was obvious that Bugher had enjoyed the
treatment and the boys were greeted with a most unusual sight as they all
stared at the exhausted man relaxing against his restraints on the
bed. Upon Principal Bugher's sweat streaked, craggy middle-aged face was
something none of the boys at Wellington had seen in all the weeks the man
had been in charge of them--it was a smile! But this was not just any
ordinary smile, but one which stretched from ear to ear, a warm, happy
smile slightly parted to allow just a sliver of enamel, the gleam from his
bright,straight white teeth to show through.

Collins moved in close to Bugher's face. He wiped beads of sweat from the
man's brow with his thumb and whispering into the Principal's hairy ear
lobe said: "That was pretty good for the first go around, but you realize
that we have until Sunday afternoon available to us, so Principal Booger,
what do you say--how about another session?"

THE END