A Fuck Toy Graduation Episode 05

The term made her shiver with delight.

And fear.

Suddenly the limitations on her behavior, her need to protect herself from the depredations of sexual predators who hated her or just used her because she was only holes to them, of no more importance than a condom...a human condom, that's what she was, designed to fit on a cock to be thrown away once his cum was inside her. Taylor shivered again.

"Miss Dillon, don't you have class?" Mr. Parker asked from his desk.

Taylor's eyes came on like an old style tube TV and the room appeared.

"I need plugged." She whispered.

Mr. Parkers eyes lit up.

"Plugged. You mean your ass?" Mr. Parked came around his desk, towards her. "Do you have your plug? I'll plug you." He said, his voice replete with erotic enthusiasm.

Taylor's mind came on, like a computer waking from sleep. She twitched, her whole body jerking.

"Um, no, it's with Mr. G." She stood up and trudged from the classroom. She felt Mr. Parker's eyes on her as she reached the door, the dull grumble of the crowd outside changing classes seemed to tingle on her skin. She turned to look at him and then, with slow, deliberation, she licked her lips, feeling them still well-coated with the slick film of his thick, gooey cum. She shivered then.

"Thank you, Mr. Parker." She said, her voice sweet and light. "For letting me suck your cock." His face blanched, as though the words made it seem real, that he'd actually face fucked a student in his classroom. He looked terrified but Taylor turned away, pushed open the door and let herself drift into the flow of student. Almost immediately, a hand grasped her by the neck and pushed her face against the wall. A different hand pressed between her thighs just above her knees. She rocked right to left, widening her stance, opening her legs. The hand slid up her left thigh to her cunt.

"Fuck, the bitch is wet I mean fresh-fucked wet." The voice behind her said.

"Is she plugged?"

A finger probed between her shallow ass crack, touched her asshole then pushed into it. The raw pain made her cringe despite the mental satisfaction of it. The finger pushed into her ass. It hurt. Her ass clinched tight around it and she grunted. Then, as if her body was controlled by some anal force well beyond her awareness, her ass hunched, pressing back at the finger, relaxing her asshole until the invading finger was fully lodged deep inside her ass.

"Fuck me, she's ass fucking herself on my finger."

"So she's not plugged. That means her mouth is to be used."

"Yep. Knees, bitch." The finger left her then and her chest tightened, feeling like she did when she wanted to weep but refused to give into that weakness. This time it reassured her, that her need was real and it would not abandon her, ever. The thought swelled in her chest...this need would rule her forever! Taylor felt herself turned around and a hand on her forehead pushed her to her knees. "Open wide." She did, her mouth opened, but she kept her eyes closed. She knelt in the flow of students in the hallway and a hard, smooth cock slid through her lips and into her mouth. Her hand rose up and found a second cock, bare, and grasped it, like a subway handhold while the other one slide into her mouth. She closed her lips on it and sucked, hard, pushing her face forward. The tip of the cock tickled the back of her throat and she gagged, hard. There wasn't enough cock length to open her throat so it was just a touch and a tickle which was not enough to damn her gag response. She gagged hard, expelling the cock from her mouth, pushing him away, whoever it was.

"What are you boys doing there!" An authoritative voice asked over the groan and rattle of the crowd in the hall.

"Oh fuck." Cocks and hands vanished and Taylor was alone, on her knees, mouth open, her ass clinching, but she noticed, still open. She could tell because she felt a breeze, like a gout of coolness up inside her, inside her raw, aching ass. She groaned.

"I need plugged." She muttered. It seemed so unlikely, so strange. Her ass was newly opened for use and here she was longing for it to be filled up again! The ache was a comforting warmth in her body.

"Taylor? Are you alright? Did those boys hurt you? Adults can be so cruel."

She opened her eyes to find Mr. Martinez looking down at her with irony in his eyes. Her eyes focused on his gaze at first but then lowered to his crotch which was right in front of her face.

"I need to suck your cock." She whispered. She couldn't bear to beg him to fuck her ass...he wouldn't, shouldn't, couldn't. She had to be plugged. Not fucked. Her owner insisted, that was the rule, his will. Her mind roiled drunkenly. What sense it made, made no sense at all. The confusion overwhelmed her. She licked her lips, feeling the tingle of the flesh of the cock that was now absent still there, and it became a longing.

"Oh Taylor, what has happened to you? What have they done to you?" The man's voice was velvet and kind. "Come with me."

The phrase thrilled her.

"God yes." She wheezed. "I'll cum with you." His hand reached for her elbow and raised her off her knees. She felt light, and her mind told her it was because she was empty. Her holes were open, empty, and yet she was filled with need. Such filling was utterly unsatisfactory. "Cum with me." She repeated. Her eye focused and she saw the confusion on Mr. Martinez's face. They called him 'virgin' behind his back. Mr. Virgin. He was religious and obvious about it, overtly so but kindly and so much so that he seemed innocent, even naive in the bluster and bubble of the high school culture.

He guided her through the flow of students to a classroom that was empty. The door closed and Taylor sunk to her knees. Mr. Martinez's hand tried to keep her standing but did not resist her once her weight sagged completely and her strong, athletic legs lowered her to her knees.

"What are you doing? Taylor, stand up this instant!" Mr. Martinez's voice was nearly falsetto.

"You can't fuck me." Taylor whispered. "My ass is empty. I must suck you." She turned on her knees, finding the man's body with her left hand. He tried to step away but she grasped him by the pants pocket, tucking her hand deep into it and using it to pull him closer. Her other hand fought at his belt buckle, then the button on his pants, then his zipper. In doing so, she felt his cock quiescent inside his pants. It registered that this man had a cock of heroic proportions, on the order of Kam's cock. Not as thick but long, so long it seemed to her that it would reach his knees when his pants were lowered. She lowered them, pants and briefs, exposing the long, smooth brown meat.

"Meat." She whispered. She knew she was delirious, not in her right mind. She felt airy, that emptiness continued to affect how she thought. Her cunt clinched again, every time she noted this hole or that hole was empty, her cunt contracted as though longing for a filling, like an empty eclair. She glanced up. Mr. Martinez held the tails of his white oxford shirt up out of the way, as though he wanted to be able to see his own cock. She had expected him to resist her, had prepared to be pushed off her knees onto her side on the floor. Mr. Virgin should reject her lascivious need, her presumptuous lust. His lack of resistance, even compliance, eager and pulsing with anticipation unnerved her a little. She lifted the drooping cock, letting the head catch her under the chin.

"You...don't...can't. I, I can't get hard." Mr. Martinez rasped. "I'm impotent."

Taylor chortled in her throat.

"Maybe you're gay. Maybe you need a guy sucking on your cock?" It turned into an honest question before she got the whole sentence out. She felt a strong reluctance to put her mouth on a cock that wanted a male mouth on it...it seemed rude and utterly unacceptable. She giggled then, wondering if all assholes were the same? Or mouths?

"Oh no, no, I want you to suck me." Mr. Martinez whispered. "I mean, you rather than anyone else."

Taylor felt the words as a bawdy compliment and despite her mental contempt for the sentiment as he expressed it, her body flushed with heat. She leaned back so she could get the tip of his mostly flaccid cock to her lips. The man was at least twelve if not fourteen inches long. But slender so it seemed possible to suck it all down her throat, unlike Kam whose cock was just too big for anything but a stretchy cunt like hers. The next thought was if Mr. Martinez's cock would fit in her ass. Taylor licked the tip of his cock, thinking of that cushioned bullet head pushing against her ass, opening her up, penetrating her deeply, filling her or at least piercing her to her core. Her cunt clinched again. It was ridiculous how often her cunt was clinching, twitching, like it was indeed hungry! Her dumb cunt was jealous of her asshole.

She sucked on the head.

"I am impotent. It's not you. It's me!" Mr. Martinez husked, his voice dry and papery. "Please, you don't need to, you shouldn't. It's okay." Only with the last words did Taylor register the incipient panic in the man's tone. She sucked the helmeted cock head into her mouth, lashing at it with her tongue. When she tried to push it deeper, it bent and buckled, crumpling in her mouth. She sucked at it but it slipped out.

"Please, don't. I can't. It's broken. It doesn't work like this." Mr. Martinez's voice was rough like dried leather. Taylor heard it clearly then, the panic, the shame, the sadness, the hurt in the man's voice. She resolved to suck his cock. She sucked as much as she could of his pliable big cock into her mouth but it was like trying to swallow mush. Nothing she did changed the firm softness of his cock. She licked. She sucked. She even gave him a little of her teeth but his cock remained inanimately soft. She sucked harder on it but the man squeaked, put the heel of his right hand on her forehead and resolutely pushed her mouth from his cock.

"No, no, it's okay, Taylor. I know you have been sucking cocks, sucking all the adults but you don't need to suck me. I'm hopeless. It's me, not you." He backed away from her, shuffling because his pants were around his ankles. She looked up at him and he appeared ashamed, but something lit in his eyes.

She understood why he never appeared very stylish...his pants had to be loose enough to accommodate the trouser snake he sported comfortably and tight jeans would have cut off blood flow. She licked her lips, wishing the thing was hard so she could see how far down her throat she could take it. She felt the thrill of a challenge flash through her, familiar but now with an entirely self-contained context. She looked up at the man, Virgin Martinez was a pretty man and the suggestion that he was a catcher was not uncommon.

"I want to make you cum in my throat." Taylor said, her voice sounded foreign to her ears. Her eyes fixed on his and she realized she was mocking him, teasing him, just the way Queen Taylor would have done if the tiara was still in place. Mr. Martinez's placid, kindly look vanished and his dark Spanish eyes glinted and flashed. His thick, rich lips vanished into a pair of think wiry lines. His chin lifted the slightest bit.

"I only get hard when I have whipped a woman bloody. I would get hard whipping you bloody." He growled, showing her his teeth. Then, as if by magic his cock straightened and rose, snapping completely hard in an instant but then a hard cock always seemed like some mysterious miracle to her...and she was not alone in the race of womankind. For some females, fucking was like absorbing a miracle. His voice was raw, serrated and vicious, like he wanted his words to lodge in her flesh like a dozen fishhooks daring her to tear herself away from him. Then the moment passed and Mr. Virgin was back, backing away from her, terror in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I mean, forget this, forget I said anything. I don't meant it...I want that but I can't do it...I'd never, ever do that but god...!" The hard cock drooped almost as fast as it had hardened.

Taylor stood on her knees watching the man tuck away his trouser snake, bending it and binding it away from her, turn and leave her. She snickered, mostly from relief and not related to the man's large but largely unresponsive cock, the reality of it at the last, apart from her mouth and lust, she ignored that, unable to process what it might have meant, so she remained convinced of his first assertion, that he was impotent. Her relief was finding that she didn't feel rejected. Empty, yes, but not rejected, his leaving her on her knees without cumming down her throat didn't feel personal to her. She didn't feel insulted and that meant to her that she felt like a set of holes and whether any of her holes were used or not was not her concern. That was up to someone else...anyone else but her. She was just holes, holes to be filled. She could not be insulted by rejection or touched with mockery only used or not used, but neither were her choice any longer. Fuck toy. Even the lingering sight of his long spear made hard and usable by the mention of whipping her didn't change that. Use her, ignore her, it made no difference to her...she was just holes.

She struggled to her feet and staggered to the door of the empty classroom. Out in the hall, the rush was thinning. Then there was an arm around her and a hand between her legs, under her skirt, probing in between the cheeks of her ass.

"Oh good." The voice said. "No plug. I can use my dildo on you."

Taylor was turned to the wall. She duly spread her feet, opening herself for what she knew was coming, feeling disappointment that it was likely not her mouth that would be filled, no hot cock of flesh and blood sliding through her lips. One hand held her skirt up out of the way. She felt her lank ass exposed, heard the murmurs behind her. She leaned her forehead on the wall. The cold plastic tip of the aforementioned dildo ran up and down her ass crack. Her cunt clinched. Always and again!

"God!" She thought. "My cunt has gone crazy!"

The dildo thrust into her ass. The rawness tore at her mind, pain flared as the thing violated her. Her hips tensed and her ass pressed back against the invasion, even her conscious will.

"You like it, don't you, cum slut?" The voice seemed unreal, like it was in the air around her and had no corporeal form.

"Uh huh." Taylor's own voice sounded strange to her. The head of the dildo opened her ass hole. She felt it, then, the waft of cool air on her raw flesh. Then the dildo filled her, pushed in deeper, then was inside her. Her ass tightened and the woman butt fucking her with the thing grunted with effort.

"My god, Taylor cunt, you're tight this morning. You'd think that with all the use you've had, you'd start to loosen up by god, you are tight as a virgin tick." The dildo backed out of Taylor's ass hole, the pressure reversing only to reverse again and her ass was forced open again. This time the thing did not stop until she swore the tip of it was sitting right at the base of her throat, nearly reaching into her mouth. She panted. She gasped. She tried to breathe easy but her entire body felt violated, suddenly raw with the invasion of the thing into her ass. The pain flared inside her and just as the fiery feeling became erotic and wonderful, the stiff plastic left her ass and she was alone, leaning against the wall.

Taylor was dazed, in a daze. Her mind simply did not function. She felt it, the consuming nature of being butt fucked. It affected her in a way nothing else had. Nothing else could but the net effect was to magnify her hunger to be used. The moment she noticed that hunger though, it abated and her head cleared. The need to be ass fucked remained shy in her. She pushed off the wall and turned to look around her, seeing the hallway for perhaps the first time.

"I need plugged." She said in a normal voice. People around her gave her strange looks...but then the hall bell began to clang and they all jerked into shambling runs to get inside the door to avoid being tardy. Taylor was soon alone in the hall, her aloneness punctuated by the staccato clap of closing doors, one after the other until there was only the humming silence of the school and the raw pain of her need. Her asshole throbbed too. She felt her cunt twitch and a gob of cum welled out of it and ran down her left thigh. Taylor stood still, letting the runnel form on the heated skin of her thigh, hot at first. She didn't move until it ran out, cooled and chilled, a thrill itself that tantalized her daring her to remain still. The chill of it in the maw of her heated need made her shudder and shake.

She looked this way and that, waiting for her brain to register where she was and which way was the quickest path to Mr. G's office. She finally took a step and lurched into motion, walking to his office and putting a hand on the handle of his door before a new thought appeared. What if someone was in the office with Mr. G? Would he plug her while they watched? The thought flashed through Taylor and her body shuddered again, like a horse does to shake away the flies. She was becoming a fuck animal. Clearly.

She looked over her right shoulder at Mrs. Coyle. The woman ignored her, eyes focused on the computer monitor on her desk. The next thought was disturbing. What if Mr. G was gone?

"Is he in, Mrs. Coyle?" Taylor asked in her best, polite princess voice. The woman looked up at her. The steel blue eyes swept up and down as though undressing her. Her smile was chilly.

"He's in, Taylor. For you, he'll always be in." The woman's voice dripped vanilla bile.

Taylor turned the handle and stepped into the office. Mr. G was on the phone. Seeing Taylor though, he continued talking while spinning his chair so his legs were out to the side. He fumbled with his pants but could not get them open. Taylor closed the door, moved around the desk and got to her knees. His obvious intent, for his cock to be in her mouth thrilled her in a way nothing else had since this fuck toy odyssey began. Suddenly she had a true place in the world not of her own making. She'd been placed here by her higher power and she needed to be on her knees. Her higher power made her lower herself to her knees.

She unbuckled his pants and fished his flaccid cock into the air and thence into her mouth. She sucked and licked at the dank thing until it responded. That it was slow to respond got her competitive juices flowing, same name but different juices now. As his cock grew in her mouth, his voice changed in her ears. It was like he was speaking a different language because nothing he said made a lick of sense to her. What had meaning was the firming of his cock as it reached into her mouth then down her throat. When it was fully engorged, she pushed it deep into her throat and simply held it there, sneaking little draughts of air in her nose when she could, rocking her head back and forth to breathe, but otherwise she didn't move. Her purpose was to have his cock in her mouth, not to interfere with his conversation!

When it finished, it seemed like her whole adult life had been spent with his cock in her mouth. The passing of time vanished. For Taylor, life became nothing but the little seeping bits of air that kept her from blacking out. At one point, she considered seeing if her body would indeed cease to function if she quit seeking air but decided that would demand Mr. G's attention and that just felt wrong to her. She was holes. She was an object to be used, nothing else. Objects just exist, they demand nothing, they do not give or take, they just are...and she was just holes, to be filled or to be left vacant. Still...a small part of her admitted in that eon of cocksucking meditation that she wanted her holes filled, that she did have that desire and it was real. She was mulling that over when Mr. G hung up the phone, wondering if she should dismiss that desire or if it was legitimate for a good fucktoy to want her holes filled, as she wanted them filled.