oriental taste | aiko/verse

[Verse]

Jarow Iken was etched into the moment. It's how he lived and survived on the Yareli streets. He'd seen the world of their New City - affectionately named so by the optimistic people from a few generations ago, at the dawn of its organized crime. The boy, with youth stretching the skin over his facial bones and an old man's eyes, haunted the present. He was wickedly alive just for this instance, and it drew girls in. Maybe it was their self-destructive nature, that wanted him. It certainly couldn't be the parts of them that wanted to live forever.

And as a lad who would do as he pleased, unless there were orders from higher up the food chain in his criminal cosm, he wasn't the best attendee at class. Good thing he barely went. Seemed lately, though, that when he did, Yumi, the new and admittedly easy-on-the eye asian teacher, was on his case. When they first met, she gave him a hard look for being late, and then asked him about it. He'd been so surprised, usually enjoying any and all leeway in class on account of his lethal extracurricular activities. He wasn't some highly appointed Yakuza prince or someone worth their weight in the Xuy triad group - for a white boy that wasn't really a choice. But they didn't mind hiring him for the grunt work. The cartel and the men under the Don, too. Russians and Italians, nobody minded the extra muscle. His agency, if you'd call it that, was well familiar with his lack of scruples, and rewarded him accordingly. They didn't mind his youth, as long as he put it to good use.

That air and aura of violence around the otherwise pretty boy made him king here, among the lambs in these corridors. There had been new teachers before who got the hint, when a murder-eyed rascal, long and dark, scampered into their classes. Most of the time they'd been warned too. Faculty knew the Iken boy. That's why Jarow was so surprised, unbecomingly so, when Yumi insisted he listened to her prattle on about her numbers. But he usually dismissed it, eventually. He'd been insulted worse in the dead of night, when he'd come to enforce debts.

In fact, that's what he was doing now. Late to class as always, he was seated half on his desk, and trying to look down Emily's top while getting her attention. The girl was pretty, with freckles, and she wore the same perfume as one of the new hookers in the Lantern Houses he got play in, when he'd done a good job. Some of those girls said he fucked like a demon. Suppose his stamina had to go somewhere. Emily was too afraid to ignore him, but her blue eyes darted from him to Yumi up front. He grinned and continued to tease her. It's not like she had a boyfriend, right? Not one like him, at least. She was silenced by that argument, but he thought her retreat into the back of her chair was charming, because it pushed her pelvic forward.

Jarow was tall, and had some shoulders on him. Living the way he did, he didn't carry much weight anywhere else. Hard to get all your meals in when you have to get your cigarettes and vodka, too. He cut the corner of his mouth with the blade of his tongue when he thought about it, and reached inside his large black jacket to fish out a packet, beat it twice against the meat of his thumb to evict a filter out, half-way. "You're funny, Em." he said with a voice that dragged over his vocal chords, soft and compromising, like rocks crushing velvet. She was confused. It was just a figure of speech, damn it. Yeah, she was dim, but maybe he liked that in a lady who'd just be a couple of gaping holes when he was done.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

"...so when you find out the value of 'a' here, you can see how it directly affects the shape and position of the graph," Yumi exclaimed, her voice carrying a spark of enthusiasm that seemed out of place in the dimly lit classroom. A few students leaned in, curiosity replacing the usual boredom and apathy that etched on their faces. The flickering fluorescent lights struggled to pierce the gloom, casting long shadows on the worn desks, a stark contrast to the modern, fresh school the young teacher had been transferred from. Yareli, a city worn by the weight of its own secrets, had not yet managed to dampen the youthful optimism radiating from Yumi just yet.

As she moved around the room helping out students, her flowing dark brown hair swayed like a silken waterfall, a contrast to the utilitarian surroundings. Her Asian features--a reflection of her Japanese heritage--framed a face with soft contours and innocent charm. With every step, her petite, slim figure seemed to float effortlessly, and her eyes, bright with genuine interest, met those of her students, revealing a captivating sincerity. A faint dimple graced her left cheek, adding to the authenticity of her smiles, a gift she would bestow on any student who would invest any legitimate effort into their math work. Despite her slight frame, her presence was undeniable, made more intriguing by the way her vibrant teaching style filled the room. Well, there were a few students that resisted that vibrancy.

Jarow, an intimidating form that seemed to command the respect of his peers by simply being present, hung like a dark, threatening cloud over her classes. She could hear the low drone of his voice as he pestered other students, like intermittent stabs that threatened to interrupt the steady flow and cog of her class. Yumi patiently disregarded his initial digressions, a strategy she employed as a teacher to maintain the lesson's momentum and prevent frequent interruptions, however she eventually hit her limit.

"Jarow," she began, her voice slicing through the air, "did my explanation of the quadratic equation sink in?" Her remark served the dual purpose of momentarily diverting the boy's attention and, ideally, prompting a blush that might redirect his focus back to the task at hand.

 

[Verse]

Thing was, with girls like Emily, they were cute because they let themselves be tugged at the whims of their femininity. Whichever those directions might be. Of course the decidedly male parts in him liked her for it, but it could be tiresome too. Here, for example, her eager to please and desire to be liked, had her submerged in this studying farce. There were places for higher learning in Yareli, but did this bitch really think she was going? With that face and those tits, maybe she should apply for daycare for her litter of kids, already. Guess he was the fool, because he was still trying to father one of those kids. And then not care at all. But whatever strides he made with getting her on his side, were backpedaled by the teacher. Not like this shit could be interesting. It was getting annoying actually.

He reached out to tug at Emily's hair playfully, so there'd be a physical bridge between them, finally. He was good with the physical parts. Emily could be the school slut and she still wouldn't have fucked as much as he. That's what happens when you let a young bull lose on the farm. But his fingers had just spread in the dark, on the hand that was well on its way toward Emily's tresses - she wore an interested enough smile for it - when Yumi's voice came out just a little different than before. He knew his name well. His head turned and his hand went down, cigarette still pinched between index and long. He had a scowl on half his face, and when it was looking at her in the relative dark, his canines shimmered.

"Tch." he hissed. He looked her over. He liked an older girl, and she sure as fuck had some of that youth left for a teacher. Damn trick too, little asian girl playing at professor cosplay. This wasn't usually his problem. She just didn't know her place yet. But he knew, as soon as he looked at her pride and her posture. And she wouldn't like it. Not at first. She would sense the way he scanned her up and down, as though he'd already paid for and bought her. Like the girls in the brothels who were his for the night, and they'd annoyed him.

"You know what else could sink in, yumi sensei?" he asked and it prompted laughter from all the males around. Some of it was pitched because some of them were young. His teeth parted when he smiled back at her. "How about you write it up again on the board, and turn around real obedient and geisha like when you do it, ne?" he said in a high octave to mimic her mothertongue, the best that he'd learned it from dramatic cartoons. His cigarette hand, the roll still unlit, waved at the front of the room to send her there, as though she was indeed his feudal servant.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

The sexual undertones in Jarow's comment zoomed right over Yumi's head, but she caught the dodgy inflection of tone in his voice. His show-offy delivery hinted that whatever he said wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. Comments with a naughty edge weren't exactly alien to Yumi, especially since she landed in this school. Back in her previous school, she received her fair share of cute little gifts—like flowers, chocolates, maybe some sweet notes. You know, the sappy 'thanks for being a great teacher' kind of stuff. Maybe a hint of grabbing coffee together or sharing a laugh. But here? Her being a noticeably youthful 25, far younger than most other teachers, probably by a solid decade or so, combined with her slender, petite build, and surprisingly generous bust for her heritage, only added to the reactions she triggered—going from raised eyebrows all the way to outright gawking.

Yumi fixed her gaze upon the boy, almost out of shock, but also trying to be resolute in her refusal to be swayed by his taunts. As he reveled in his moment of satisfaction, the rest of the class erupted into giggles, stoking his juvenile sense of triumph. The level of disrespect the students displayed for their teachers was quite astonishing, really. In her previous world, educators commanded respect by virtue of their position, but this town operated on a different set of norms. Yumi's initial impulse was to send him from the classroom or assign him to detention, but such ammunition was denied to the young teacher, cast into the deep end without a lifeline. Her head teacher's decree was clear: all student issues must find resolution within the confines of the classroom, except under extreme circumstances. To her, this very much was an extreme circumstance, yet she had learned from her past mistake—rebuked for sending a student to the deputy principal over a cigarette.

Her head teacher's previous reprimand echoed in her thoughts: "This isn't PRINCETON Yumi, you need to learn to deal with these brats individually or else your time in this school is going to be very challenging." A challenge, she reminded herself, embracing the mantra almost meditatively. A trial that would hone her teaching prowess. An opportunity to master the art of managing students like Jarrow. Yumi had to respond in some way other than simply staring like a deer caught in headlights. That youthful, ideological spirit flared up within her, spurring her to act with authority.

"Jarrow," she repeated softly and steadily. "You shouldn't talk to me like that, I'm your teacher." She then walked up over to his desk and picked up the creased packet of cigarettes "and these aren't allowed in class. I'll give them to you after school," there were a few moments of silent pause before she added. "If you behave." While far from flawless, her approach was a product of her novice experience, drawing from strategies commonly applied to minors. Yumi walked back to the front of the room, intending to get on with the class.

 

[Verse]

He had expected something. Her pretty face with all its casually exotic details did not reward him the way he wanted. He thought it might be some steely, land of the rising sun dismissal first, which might have impressed him - though it was well within her role as teacher to fly off on what he'd said - but he realized she was actually not picking up entirely on what he'd said. It made him wonder about her, and fascination from the Iken boy was dangerous for its recipient, often. Just look at Emily, who'd had it for a little while, and was already in a bit of distress. His dark eyes narrowed at the woman who held class, admittedly less interested in the teen tits he'd been seeking out. Eventually she did get at least his cadence. He saw that she saw him, rather than heard him, and whatever mockery he expressed was enough for her to be offended. Ah, so she did have a sense of pride. Not so cold and untouchable, after all? It excited him, to rattle his math teacher, and his head tilted the other way, but gave her no less smugness.

And she was beautiful when she became upset. He looked at her like some fanged animal looks at something with softer fur. It was exciting when her face changed, and she looked around as though to find something to do with him. The class was on his side, at least the loudest laughers, and the quiet souls, like Emily, didn't matter in that moment. He relished in having fought back well, from her chiding attempt. Who did she think she was, anyway? She'd studied and toiled to get some paper that said she'd studied and toiled. That was worth nothing to him. That she could be bent over books for hours didn't earn her his respect. In fact, if she'd pull down the neckline of her pink shirt, and let him see those uncharacteristically sizable breasts, he'd be much more inclined to listen to her lecture. But enjoying her like this, upended by his perverted answer to her text-book comment, was not so bad either. The kid had frazzled his teacher greatly. That's all little boys want.

There was adrenaline in his blood when she steeled herself visibly, deciding on a course of action, and then came over. He lifted his chin, waiting. His name out of her had him wondering. Perhaps he had thought there'd be small, open-palmed violence? The nights outside had made their mark on him. She was gorgeous up close, somehow shorter than him still, even if he sat down, half way on the desk. He noticed her dimple. A pretty detail and flaw. He frowned at her when she went on, but it was rather intimate, like this. It wasn't her intention, but he liked it plenty, even if she annoyed him right now. The youth and all his energy swirled quietly around him, and the boys who understood flinched when she picked up the other male's property. There was no retaliation, other than his head following hers when she went back. He was undeterred but he was quiet.

It might be eerie, and Emily, sitting close, writhed a bit with fear she didn't understand. A smile remained on Jarow, though flattened like his forehead. Perfectly calm and perfectly bloodthirsty. "If I don't get them back maybe I'll just move on to heavier things?" he said. The uneasiness in here had a few boys cackle nervously. "But if it gets me a meeting after, then I suppose I can behave." More laughter now, burlier. Sex sells.

She would be held to that promise.

She might be so dull that she couldn't see him now, when instead of being distracted by contemporaries with mammaries, he was intently focused on her. Not that he ever wrote in books he hadn't brought. Just sitting there, turned to her. If their eyes met she could know that there was something hungry in his. An unfailing vigilance on her, different from attention she got from other of her students. He wouldn't let up until it was over, and the others left. Until there was silence in their wake.

And just as she might address it, this gloomy boy with who knows what going on in his head as he stared her down, he stood up to the topple of his desk. And started coming toward her.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

Yumi's heart swelled with satisfaction, a soft smile gracing her lips. Jarrow's begrudging agreement was a small victory in itself, a subtle sign that maybe her earnest efforts weren't entirely a waste. A glimmer of hope kindled within her as she glimpsed the possibility of a breakthrough—perhaps the first ever in this class. This must be what it feels like, she thought to herself, to finally progress, to finally feel a strong sense of satisfaction as a teacher.

And yet, that sense of satisfaction was tainted, and a disquieting unease slowly crept into the room, casting an eerie shadow over her prior triumph. Jarrow's unyielding, almost predatory gaze hung in the air like an unsettling ghost, a silent observer lurking in the shadows. She resisted the urge to lock eyes with him, an instinctual avoidance driven by an unspoken understanding that confronting him directly might only fuel the sinister energy radiating from him.

That lingering tension cast a hush upon the classroom, each student subdued by an unspoken heaviness that seemed to press upon their shoulders. In that moment of silence, Yumi seized the opportunity to continue trying to forge connections and propel the class forward. She turned her attention to Dave, who hesitated, caught between seeking guidance and avoiding any sign of weakness before his authoritative classmate.

"Dave, come on," Yumi's voice carried a gentle encouragement, her finger tracing over his work. "You've got a solid grasp of this. Look at your approach here—it's fantastic! Just apply that same logic to this part—"

A blush tinged Dave's cheeks, his protestations softening. "It's fine Miss, I'll do it myself..." he mumbled, turning his shoulder away, his eyes showing a glint of reluctance and shame. Yumi raised her hands in a placating gesture, understanding his desire to save face. "No problem, that's fine, Dave. Keep up the good work," she assured him, her gaze shifting to another eager student, her demeanor remaining unfazed.

She then approached Emily, who posed another problem to the teacher. "And yes, this question you've brought up is a bit of a twist, which is excellent to explore," Yumi continued, her voice carrying a touch of warmth as she dived into explaining the intricacies of the problem.

The sudden jarring ring of the bell pierced the air, an abrupt interruption that ignited a flurry of activity. The classroom erupted into a symphony of moving chairs and shuffling feet, the bell's echo fading as swiftly as it had appeared. "Great effort, everyone!" Yumi's voice projected over the fading commotion, her tone infused with cheer. "Remember, please keep reviewing the work! Practice makes perfect!" She offered a heartfelt smile, the kind that reached her eyes and conveyed her unwavering belief in each student's potential.

Jarrow's imposing presence lingered as the room gradually emptied. The sudden slam of a desk jarred Yumi, jolting her from her previously cheerful disposition. As the tall figure of the young man loomed closer, she pivoted gracefully, her polka dot skirt twirling softly in tandem with her movement. Bending slightly, she retrieved the pack of cigarettes from her desk, her fingers deftly holding it out to him. "Here you go, Jarrow. And I appreciate your behavior throughout the rest of the class," she spoke with genuine gratitude, her smile a familiar weapon of disarmament, one that had defused countless situations and earned her a special place in her students' hearts.

A moment passed before she continued, her tone still laced with warmth, yet now tinged with a hint of polite assertion. "However, could you please take a moment to pick up your desk before you head out?"

 

[Verse]

He thought her little smugness was adorable. Yumi was expressive, though gullible. Both those would add to her downfall, later. He let her have this little victory. She was stiffer by the end of it, like a deer flexing its legs, waiting for a sound that'd make it bound off in the opposite direction. He looked at those legs under her pokadot skirt. Rather showy for a conservative girl. There were parts of her that wanted attention. He'd give her more than she'd be happy with.

He stayed still when she went on. Playing teacher when she was really just biding time before she became his cock sleeve. When the bell let them out, he was the only body in the group that didn't leap at the chance to escape. His eyes flared a bit, on his way to her after he'd startled her, when her skirt fanned during her turn. He was trying to see what she was wearing underneath, of course.

It was more important to reach out when she offered him his pack back. He snapped them up and let his fingers contact to her wrist linger. She did not understand how things hand changed, had she? They were alone now. That was dangerous for her. He grinned and looked back at his desk when she brought his attention to it. Her change of voice was a challenge, not a deterrent. All her authority was empty, now.

"Sure." he said and suddenly grabbed her forearm with his cigarette free hand. He pulled her along, stern, but not violent unless she fought against it. She was still under some illusion they were teacher and student in the traditional sense, after all. "But do you mind helping me?" he asked, asinine with sarcasm. Once they reached the desk, with some of his stuff still on it, indeed, he swung her around, tossing her to hit the back of her legs against the edge of the desk. His strength would be so far beyond hers the gesture would be unquestionable. Someone like her wouldn't know what to do when met with physical force. She didn't know the world that he did. "There." he said and then made sure to push against her with his body, locking her against the desk. She was so small after acting so stern.

A lift of her hips would have her seated, legs spread on the messy surface, and he'd place himself between her knees to keep her parted. He'd lock his free hand behind the back of her head, and then press the cigarette packet against her lips. With crushing force, he was sure she'd open her mouth to the mangled gift. He longed to see the elegant teacher be compromised like that. Stuffing things in women's mouths was one of his favorite pastimes.

And then, unless she'd escape or somehow had freakish strength to fight him off, he'd grab the jaw of her now full maw. He'd lean his head down to say in her ear. "You think you're in charge, Yumi?" he asked, other hand coming between them to nestle his hand under her shirt, and up her stomach. "You're just a piece of Japanese meat on a plate I haven't eaten yet." The big teen hand grabbed her breasts through her bra and squeezed hard. "You should know your place, chan."

 

[Aiko-Nao]

The sensation of such contact from a student was a startling breach of the boundaries. Not only was it heavily discouraged, but outright forbidden for a teacher to touch a student. These are the thoughts that popped into Yumi's head as soon as Jarrow made his move. "Oh, uh, sure," she agreed, her response carrying a hesitant note as she allowed Jarrow to guide her through the room as if they shared a casual camaraderie. An involuntary "woah!" tumbled from her lips as she found herself suddenly twirled around like an unsuspecting marionette. The room seemed to blur as she suddenly felt the coarse wood of the desk pressing against her thighs and backside.

"Jarrow!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch as surprise jolted through her. Before she could gather her bearings, she found herself placed back onto the desk with an unsettling effortlessness. "Jarrow!" she repeated, the urgency in her voice underscored by her perplexed expression. "What are you doing!?" Her tone held a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, her eyes locked onto his with a blend of bewilderment and concern.

Staring at him, she felt a palpable loss of control over the situation. It was an undeniable truth that he held the reins in this surprising exchange, leaving her feeling really out of her depth. The boy's greater height and physical strength were inescapable realities, reminding her of the vast power imbalance between the pair. The young Japanese teacher was totally averse to any kind of violence, with a disposition that shunned conflict in favor of harmony. Reacting in a physical way was the absolute last thing on her mind at the moment, as she tried to think of ways she could reason with the boy, as if her mind was scanning her training for similar situations.

Meanwhile, Yumi's knees were suddenly forced apart by Jarrow's legs as the youth pushed himself against her, her cotton, white panties exposed to the class inappropriately. Her head firmly in place, Yumi's eyes squinted in strain as the pressure of the packet was being pressed against her lips. "Please Jarrow, s-stop..." as she tried to speak, the opportunity was taken, and the disgusting, smelly packet was shoved into her mouth. Her heart started to beat as the seriousness of the situation was finally starting to dawn on her, noticing the boy's hand snaking up her shirt before it landed on her bra, squeezing it with a rough firmness that made her squirm and tilt her body forward in discomfort.

The helpless teacher looked up with pleading, helpless eyes as she sat there, completely at the whims of her student.

 

[Verse]

He thought all manner of demeaning things when she simply let him take her along. Some girls were like that though. A submissive ore even when they were supposed to be in charge. He made a point out of fucking the bitchy ones stupid, in the Lantern Houses. But Yumi wasn't really a dominatrix. She just believed in her position, believed school was what it said it was. Her idealism would cost her more than her student loans. He liked controlling her, and liked that the older woman was fooled into his pace.

He got a sense for her body when he spun her, and clocked her strength, too. About what he expected, even if her legs looked fit underneath that skirt. Not bad posture either. Some of the asian chicks were weak boned and deformed from studying. Yumi did rather well, for her race. Maybe that's why he'd decided he needed to sample her. Or maybe she had just been haughty enough she deserved this lesson, anyway. His mouth parted when she used his name. She couldn't do shit. Pretty things set down on tables should know what time it is, and shut up. He looked back at her when he saw some intrigue in her brown eyes.

She looked hopeless, but not miserable, sitting where he'd put her. His teeth were sharp in his grin. Shouldn't she be livid? Oh, that told him volumes about her disposition. And what he could do to her, without reprisals. So her knees were separated wide, without her being able to say anything, and he even forgave her for her boring underwear, because it fit her. That skirt had bothered him the entire lesson, and it was fun to have it out of the way, mostly, to show off the shape, though not yet the color, of her cunt. Things had changed so much between them in a matter of seconds.

And with that pussy out, though still scantly clad, he continued to drink up her reactions to his violence. The stupid bitch ate the rumpled box of cigarettes, and let him grab her tit. And didn't even fight. The look in her face while her jaw was dropped to accommodate the tobacco gag was fucking priceless. Nothing like the chilly pride she'd tried to chide him with, not too long ago. It had taken so little effort to make Yumi like this. He had liked interrupting her.

"Listen, teach." he said and started pulling the cup down behind her shirt. Soon the breast he'd been curious about would pop out of its home, and then he'd grab onto it, to weigh her womanliness. He'd squeeze firm, unstoppable, to asses just what kind of assets she had for him. His other hand locked over her lips to keep the packet in there. "You think you're in charge because you know some boring facts, but I think you're learning the real way of things, yeah?" He leaned closer. "But tell you what, class is over if you agree you're my little Japanese whore, alright?" he asked and pinched and pulled her nipple. "Or would you rather I show you the disparaging discrepancy between a white cock and a jap cunt like yours?"

 

[Aiko-Nao]

Jarrow's voice was heavy with malice. Even his breath seemed heavy with malice. Has it always been there? Was it simply veiled by her blissful ignorance? Or is it only now emanating from Jarrow, as he holds her in this vulnerable position? How could he react so strongly towards her earlier disciplinary actions? Yumi felt the tension of her bra suddenly tighten as the boy pulled on her cup, quickly followed by his eager hand grabbing at her bare breast.

How could she respond to something like this? What options were open to her? The panic of the moment turned her mind into a muddled swirl of bewilderment and doubt, assaulting her with a torrent of unanswered queries. Yumi simply watched as he addressed her, as if he were the teacher now, in charge, mocking her. She felt his thumb brush over the soft nub of her nipple, sending an electric zap through her body, triggering her hands to finally-- and instinctively-- come up and grab his arm. She almost didn't know what to do at this point, her initial surge of strength quickly dissipated as she realized the overwhelming strength she was up against. Instead she just held his arm there, as the disgusting taste of ciggarrette packet continued to taint her palette. It also had very little impact on what her student was doing, flicking her nipple, pulling it, rubbing it, continuing to trigger feelings that are so intensely alien to her.

The last time Yumi engaged in any sort of sexual activity had been with her last--and first--boyfriend, which was several years ago now. It seemed to evoke mixed emotions within her, a stirring, deep inside, a rumbling that teased at something, that hinted at something, as if the tectonic plates of her psyche were shifting within her. And the implications of that frightened her more than Jarrow. She had to end this quickly before it became worse. Yumi decided to placate the boy, nodding her head to his demand in what she hoped was a submissive enough gesture. Her gaze flickered towards the door, torn between the fear of someone entering and the unease of nobody appearing at all.

 

[Verse]

She was very pleasing. That's how he wanted her, and that's how he suspected she was, when he started this. It was mostly instinct. He'd not meant to sit his teacher down on his desk, but he knew she belonged to him in some way, owed him something for how she'd spoken to him. And the way her eyes were set down, with their sharp lines outward and the dark depth of submission, he knew he'd been right. And that she could feel it to, however much she may deny it. She just let it happen, so far. A woman should be more selective with her breasts. She might not have a chance to stop it, but she'd not tried very much either. That told him volumes about what went on in her heart. He could have her body, if he applied enough pressure. She had not business being a teacher, thinking she could control boys who were always part monster. The way she grabbed his arm when her nipple hardened under his brushing thumb was almost reassuring rather than deterring.

He felt a shift in her, some kind of deliberation, before she nodded. It made her young, violent suitor's eyes flare with excitement. "Now, that's a good girl." he said and pinched her nipple again as though to reward her. She was being so compliant after she had been so confident, when the room was full of witnesses. He slid his touch from her tit, but not before noting whether it had hardened or not, and also let her mouth go. He held his palm curved under her chin, like she'd been a bad dog, biting at the cigarettes without permission, and now had to give them back. "Now, since you're such a fast learner, why don't you return my stuff?" he asked. He knew what she wanted before her attention had ever gone to the door.

But, as she thought about whether she should, indeed like a pet, let the spit-soaked packet roll out of her mouth and onto his hand, his other set of fingers, formerly at her chest, came down her stomach. Soon he'd caressed her thigh and stuck the hand under her skirt to cup her white panties, pressing them with three long fingers against her cunt. The massage was intrusive and circular. It was unfathomable that they'd just been teacher and student, moments ago. He looked into her eyes sternly, as though he was taming her, and forbidding her from stopping his transgression onto her pussy. He wanted to know its shape and texture, and whether there was any signs of arousal yet.

His hand by her mouth swiftly slapped her cheek and returned, waiting for her to spit his cigarettes out, taking her attention off his petting of her, down there. "Come on now, Yumi."

 

[Aiko-Nao]

Yumi could do nothing but stare at his paralyzing gaze; so intense, so fierce, as if there were a sinister fire burning behind his eyes that threatened to engulf her being completely. Her body let out a spasm once more as Jarrow pinched her now hardened nipple for the final time before his hand began to snake away, leaving an acute feeling of pleasure in its wake, still reverberating like a struck bell. The boy then held his palm out in front of her mouth, and she was more than happy to oblige this particular request.

Before she could contort her mouth into an awkward maneuver to expel the packet, she felt Jarrow's other hand slide across her soft thigh before cupping her between her legs. His fingers emphatically began massaging her there, the young teacher's eyes widening in surprise at the touch. "Uhhh," a strained muffled groan escaped her throat as if forced out from within her as an ancient pleasure began to spread through her body. Her thighs clamped around Jarrow's hand in reaction to his touch as he continued to manipulate his fingers around her dampening pussy over her panties. The soft cotton fabric brushed against her clit several times, each time sending a new wave of pleasure radiating out throughout her body. There was no particular rhythm or technique being used, yet it was more than enough to evoke an almost overwhelming feeling of rapture from an area that's been without attention for so long.

"Nnnngh," the groans continued as Yumi's eyes slammed shut, and she found herself escaping into the pleasure. She was on a shoreline, being pulled towards the raging water--dragged by ethereal arms, her naked body trying to resist as her feet dug into the sand, while another version of her grabbed her by her arm and began fighting, began to pull her back away from the sea. Her face was a mask of focus as an internal battle raged within her, all the while Jarrow's fingers persisted, stoking the fire, pulling her towards the chaos. All she could hear was the roar of the surf as her body threatened to cleave in two, before a voice cut through her inner vision, an echo; "Come on now, Y-u-m-i." The teacher's eyes opened wide, unable to discern exactly how many moments had past since the boy had began to touch her mound.

As instructed, she opened her mouth and pushed out the saliva soaked packet using her tongue onto Jarrow's hand, the packet immediately twitching as it expanded in his hand. She tried to focus, to pull herself away from that pleasure, the sounds of her labored breathing filling the empty silence almost in mocking, her heartbeat now joining in to reach a crescendo of shame. Yumi then forced her knees shut, the motion pushing Jarrow's body back by his hips, her hand pulling his arm away. She then turned her body to the side as she grabbed the elastic of her bra through her shirt, pulling onto it as to seat her exposed breast again.

"G-Go to your next class please Jarrow," she instructed--pleaded-- her mouth dry, her chest beating, her face red with shame and bewilderment as she stared down at her knees, unable to meet her students' gaze, painting the image of a dejected and defeated young woman.

 

[Verse]

She continued to let him do what he wanted with her breast. It was a quiet but very loud submission. She understood her role. Maybe her body was smart, too. She was about to be better, too, by listening to him and give his smokes back, soaked in her spit, when he touched her where all women have their weakness. What a pretty reaction she gave. She didn't have the sense to be offended by his violations anymore. The way her thighs hugged his hand was comforting, and encouraging. Such a whore, already, Yumi. She confessed with moisture, meeting his intrusive, expert fingers. Oh, this was very telling, and he looked at her with knowing eyes. Yumi was a born masochist. "Must have been long for you, teach." he teased but didn't let up, not when she seemed to need it so much.

She gave herself to it, and moaned through the increasingly soaked packet. Pretty face made more beautiful when it softened and strained a bit in the pleasure he had forced on her, but she now engaged in, herself. She was woken from it, when he spoke, startled and pretty like some prey animal in the woods. So easy, his teacher. She looked-- rejected. It pleased him to have made her have something she now wanted. He liked the vulgar process of her returning his tobacco vices, and he held it, wet in his hand like her panties were wet against his fingers. The boy tilted his head when she pushed him back, and tried to assemble herself on the desk. There was still juices on his fingertips from the lust he had summoned from her.

She was desperate. She could have applied force but she was begging him, rather. Appealing to his mercy. This was not the right role for someone who'd lecture him. He shrugged and looked at her, as though her pleasing meant very little. His face was close to hers again but he didn't reclaim his space between her legs. She had been close, hadn't she? "I think we've made it clear I don't do what you tell me to, Yumi." he reminded her. But he did correct his spine, towering over her again, and took a few steps back, leaving here there, in a mess on his desk. She looked good like that.

Soon he'd backed up to her desk, and reached inside a drawer to take out her phone. Some quick fiddling with it, and he'd gotten her number, and given her his. And with his own, he took a photo of her, where she laid. "If you'd like to be my friend, I'd love for you to trust me with some honest pictures." he said and put her phone back. Nudes, of course, under duress. He liked her weak pose, and loved that he'd caused it. "And there's always next class, isn't there, Yumi?" he reminded her with the kind of grin cannibals wear. He went for the door, and passed her on his way. A soft touch on her cheek and combing through her hair, with the scent of her own cunt painted on her, as though she didn't remember what had just happened.

"See you soon." he said, but before his hand could slide out of her tresses, he grabed hold of it firmly. "And don't you dare wear panties next time I see you." Just to inject again how dangerous he could be. He did let her go, and then moved on. She'd be alone with her thoughts, and the blood in her ears.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

Yumi observed the boy with a mixture of curiosity and confusion as he loomed over her desk, tapping something into her phone. Ordinarily, anyone—let alone a student—handling her phone like that would have sent her into a state of panic, but given the recent…encounter, this unusual situation didn't exactly trigger an alarm. Her thoughts remained tangled in a bundle of nerves. Their gazes locked as he suggested another rendezvous during the next class—a strange blend of repulsion and anticipation coursing through her at the mere notion of a repeat incident. She averted her eyes once more as he drew near, his gentle touch brushing against her before he abruptly yanked her hair, eliciting an involuntary gasp. All she could muster was a nod before she watched him exit the room.

That evening, Yumi lay in her bed, attempting to coax herself into sleep. She tossed and turned, an insufferable wave of restlessness and warmth washing over her. The events from earlier that day played on an endless loop in her mind, a relentless marathon of thoughts that raced and raced, denying her the embrace of slumber. Her frustration and anxiety mounted, leaving her increasingly flustered and agitated and without realizing her hand found its way between her thighs—an area unexplored and unfamiliar to her, yet her hand moved automatically. She turned to her side and began touching herself for the first time in years, her fingers massaging her clit over her already wet panties, the same spot his dirty hand was, her other hand up her own shirt, tugging at that same nipple, rubbing and pulling it in the same way. The orgasm came quick, quick and intense, a torrent of pleasure forcing out a loud groan from her as her body writhed in pleasure, legs tangled in the cheap linen of her bed. It was an eruption of tension building up over time, a crescendo of sensation that had been absent for years. As the peak of release washed over her, an overwhelming flood of relief and euphoria cascaded through her, like a long-lost friend finally returning after a prolonged absence. Sleep came easy after that.

When she awoke the next day, the weight of her actions hit her like a sudden splash of cold water, triggering a surge of shame and regret. With a mixture of revulsion and self-blame, she peeled off her underwear and kicked them away, as if they were now tainted remnants of her own vulnerability. Her hair was a wild mess, mirroring the turmoil within her as she buried her face in her palms, overwhelmed by a potent mix of emotions.

The following days were a relentless barrage of nerves for the young teacher. Every faint sound had her eyes darting toward the door, bracing herself for the arrival of that malicious boy, that wretched boy. Each time he didn't materialize, a pang of disappointment washed over her, swiftly replaced by a wave of shame and despondency. What's wrong with me? I want nothing to do with Jarrow. She attempted to rationalize with herself, to deny the tumultuous undercurrent that seemed to pull her thoughts back to him.

A week later, her head teacher tasked her with supervising detention students after school. It was now here that Jarrow finally made his appearance, throwing their paths together once more.

 

[Verse]

He stayed with her, stalked her. And he didn't even know. Larger predators are like that, even in their absence. His spirit, his malice, had given her a stain as real to her as the one he'd painted her panties with, with her own moisture. He couldn't possibly know she'd unmade herself thinking of him, but he was confident enough to know he had an effect. That is, if he thought about her at all. He had satisfied his vengeance with manhandling the older female. She had learned where he stood and where she sat. So he went on with his life, and did other dark things to pretty people. The Yareli night wasn't going to defame itself. Business was good.

And even though the courts wouldn't touch him, the Yareli Police had bigger men to indict, he was still found guilty of his scholastic crimes, though not the one that matter, not the one that left his dear math teacher awake at night. Sentenced in his absence, for any number of wrong steps, they dealt out his punishment, and made sure he knew through a friend. Would you believe it was Emily, who delivered the tidbit to him? And the generous Iken boy knew what it meant, that the big breasted belle had found him among the other lost boys who did lost things after the sun went down. He left her ragged in an abandoned room in the abandoned building he hung out with his pack, waiting on orders from men in suits and tattoos. She had moaned like he was killing her, and he liked that.

When he walked the school corridors again, there were fewer student to get out of his way, and whisper about him. It was later in the day. He had his jacket under one arm, both hands in his pockets. A lose tanktop to underline the bones underneath his long muscles. A scrapper without a mother's food. Frightening and mistreated and-- gloriously imbued with youth. There were all but liquid shadows pooling behind his collarbones.

He shouldered the door open. Not like he didn't know this room. His hair was flipped to one side and kept behind that ear, the tie around his right wrist. His eyebrows lifted once when he saw an assortment of boys who wanted to be his equals, and the woman at the front. He smiled and remembered her submission, and strong reactions at his touches. Ah. Yumi sensei. He sat down close to her and dumped the jacket on the desk. "You're in for a treat, boys. This gal performs pretty well with an audience." he declared and the testosterone rich crowd whooped with enthusiasm at their impromptu leader. It wasn't hard to objectify the pretty japanese woman, standing there. They just didn't know how easy.

He licked the corner of his lips and supported his cheek with his palm as he looked at her, other hand picking out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. A challenge. When he put the filter in his mouth a fang of dark hair fell over one eye. "So. Yah going to teach or no, Yumi?" he mumbled as the cigarette waved up and down for his words.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

For Yumi, the sequence of events unfolded in agonizingly slow motion. She could sense her heartbeat accelerating, a flutter of unease churning in her stomach. The prospect of Jarrow's presence at detention filled her with a mixture of anxiety and discomfort, her thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of concerns. What if he acts out? What if he makes things worse? What if… The questions circled like vultures in her mind, each one adding to her mounting apprehension.

Yumi's gaze remained fixed as Jarrow swaggered into the room, exuding his customary bravado. His casual settling at a desk adjacent to another student violated the intended separation between detention students, a transgression that instinctively prompted a flinch in her. A silent plea for him to choose a different spot almost escaped her, a reflex that urged her to avoid the inevitable confrontation. But another internal voice chimed in, its message resolute: Not worth it. Pick your battles, and this isn't the one.

It didn't take long for the youth to start making inappropriate comments. She ignored these, of course, but responded to his last. "N-No Jarrow, I'm not your teacher. This is detention, so you all need to focus on your homework or any work you may have to do for other classes," the young teacher clarified. "But, if you need help with anything, I can provide some assistance…" Yumi walked down the isle towards her desk, her long red dress swaying as it exuded a gentle allure in its soft shade of red, an invitation to notice without demanding attention. Buttons cascaded down the center, like a secret pathway, starting from where the fabric parts at the neckline, an opening adorned with a charming bow, a delicate link between the two sides that traced the contours of her large breast cups.

Witnessing Jarrow with the cigarette dangling from his lips reignited the sensation of the packet's taste in her mouth, coaxing a faint frown onto her features. She tried resisting, but the young teacher couldn't help herself. "Jarrow, could you possibly please hold off for an hour? I don't think anyone in this small space would appreciate cigarette smoke," she ventured, her voice carrying a gentle undertone. Her voice aimed to cloak the request in the guise of a suggestion, a small favor, rather than a demand from a teacher to a student. If the situation involved anyone else, her demeanor would likely have been far more authoritative, underscoring the subtle shift in their dynamic.

 

[Verse]

He had her attention, he knew. She'd have to be colder than he anticipated to shrug off what they'd done together, even if he was guilty of forgetting. He enjoyed how stiff she was, standing there, their supposed authority. The boy knew what power he had over the teacher, and he basked quietly in it. They were having an exchange neither of the other boys here picked up on. But she threw some real words too. Hardly as confident as when she'd told him off last time. The budding men enjoyed her walk back though, and he looked at the others with his eyebrow raised. They all knew what he meant, since they were all watching the way that red fabric flattered her ass when she went. The bare back didn't hurt either.

She chided him about the smoke, but she didn't try to strongarm him into stopping. Oh, she was playing favorites, wasn't she. He let the silence drag on, in which he held her dark eyes. In his, he let her know he was thinking about their moment together, when she had been so close to orgasming on his fingers, and certainly not fought his groping as much as he could have. If he had known what she'd done, remembering, he would have mocked her to death. The cigarette pointed upward in another challenge and then it straightened out, horizontal, jutting. He did like it when her voice was soft like that. Suppose he'd have to teach her another lesson about what she could and couldn't tell him to do. He wouldn't mind it all that much. Maybe that's why he'd come in, today? Maybe that's why she came, too.

"Sure, Yumi, teach." he said. There were some surprised shifting behind him. Even though it was unthinkable that he'd get to smoke in detention, or on school grounds with an adult watching, from what they knew of Jarrow Iken, it was even more out of place that he'd give up so easily. He looked her over, and his eyes left hers to take in the rest of her. Short in stature, but fit enough, and those breasts were as good as he remembered. Let her know he was devouring her with his gaze. And then he produced a lighter, beat up plastic because what was he, some kind of billionaire? The boys gasped with excitement, impressed. This close to his face, the flame made his eyes bright red, for her. It made the shadows under his cheekbones severe.

He sucked in the fire through the tip of the cigarette, and dropped the lighter on his jacket as he inhaled. It was intimate to breathe in while keeping eyecontact. His chin was raised lazily when he pinched the roll out of his mouth, and let out a sheer plume. "How about you come here, Yumi? I'll put it out." he waged the burning vice at her, like she was a kitten. The boys were livid now. "If you ask real nicely, I'll put it out in your cleavage." And the boys erupted into hormonal hollering, truly primal reactions.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

Yumi stood firm at the front of the classroom, her posture taut with an unmistakable tension. She braced herself against the approaching wave of jeers and taunts, her gaze fixated on her own feet. It seemed futile to combat the uproar directly; her voice, usually soft-spoken and gentle, felt inadequate against the booming male voices that filled the room. As the atmosphere grew increasingly hostile and chaotic, she sensed the collective mentality of the group spiraling further out of control. It didn't help that detention naturally drew in some of the more disruptive characters from the student body, exacerbating the challenging situation.

The sight of Jarrow with a cigarette clenched between his lips sent a sickening twist through her stomach. The mere memory of that packet in her mouth made her recoil, almost as if she could taste it once more. The group eventually settled, finally giving Yumi a chance to hopefully take the reins and control the situation. But what could she say at this point? It's not like she could get them even more in trouble than this. Students were almost never expelled from this school; it's already the bottom of the barrel. There have been cases, she overheard in the teachers lounge, but those were of extreme violence. I shouldn't have done this, she thought to herself, feeling dejected. Not only this detention, I shouldn't have come here, but I really shouldn't have done this detention.

Had Yumi, at some subconscious level, been hoping for Jarrow to attend? She had managed to restrain herself against further temptations since that first evening, however each time she went to bed the cravings would surface, like a persistent weed. At times, the young teacher would even wake up with her hand in between her thighs, reaching closer and closer, before she resisted in her woken state.

"Come on guys," her soft voice cracked under the weight of their mocking stares as she finally decided to speak up. "If you can get through this quietly then we can even leave earlier, I don't want to be here either, you know?" she said, deciding to try reach them on a more human level while also ignoring Jarrow's comments.

 

[Verse]

Jarrow watched the laughter batter the older woman. He looked at her while she deflated. Why did it taste so good to get in her way? She had built herself up so proper, and she even held on to it now, despite wearing that dress that begged them all to think of her as a piece of meat and not as a person with authority. There was a conflict in Yumi, and he liked it, every time he saw it. He knew which side of that battle in her that he stood on. And he'd make sure it won, every time he played with her. She invited it, shrinking up there while they had their fun. They should not have sent a beautiful creature to try and control their lot. It was unfair to her, but he supposed he shouldn't complain, because the deck was stacked in his favor. He remembered her moans when he'd touched her pussy and the soft of her considerably large tit in his hand. She was teasing at those now, with the cleavage. He knew what her body was really for.

She had a visceral reaction to his smoke. He could see her perfectly from behind it. Like it was a cross and she was cursed. He moved the roll about a bit. Waving Hi at her. All manner of memories were playing through her pretty head with that black hair.

They all did quiet when she spoke up. Between their impromptu leader smoking in the fucking classroom and her enticing, breaking voice, there was nothing more to say. They correctly identified themselves as background. Jarrow grinned and with the smoke coming out he might as well have been her personal monster. He tried to tempt her to come closer by pinching it and ashing on the floor, but she was probably not going for it. It was getting obvious to the audience that there was something tilted between the boy and their detention teacher. He thought it was out of character for Ms. Inspiration to say something so cynical. Maybe he was getting to her heart, after all.

"I'll be quiet if I get to smoke too!" one of the braver lads shouted. And then there was laughter again. Jarrow smiled and tossed a new cigarette over his shoulder without looking, eyes still on Yumi. By the sounds they made behind him he'd caught it. Another reach into the jacket on his desk, and he provided the lighter via air mail too. The boys were being rambunctious, and it seemed their pledge of silence was as light in value as the tar vapor from the tobacco.

"I bet you'd get into trouble if someone came now, and your entire detention class were smoking, yeah?" Jarrow pointed out. He then discarded the entire packet to the waiting hands in the back rows.

Everyone jumped when he stood up suddenly, tall monster, and leaned the side of his leg on the desk. "I'll tell you what I want to get through this detention, though." he started and the boys quieted again. He let them stew in the silence for a beat, before "If Ms. Yumi here showed us some Japanese grown melons and maybe a peach."

The crowd went livid and clapped on their desks. It was obvious they had not expected to have this kind of power in their own after-school punishment, but they took to it rather easily, with Jarrow at the helm. He rolled a shoulder and it drew the sinew taut under his youthful, slender skin. "Well, teach? How about you teach us something about Japanese hospitality, yeah?" Last time he'd had some, was when he went into the Yakuza owned Red Lantern Houses. Those girls were never as clean as Yumi, though. He hadn't thought about her much since last he saw her, but damn if he wasn't thinking about her right now.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

The young teacher could only watch, her sense of helplessness growing, as Jarrow casually distributed the forbidden contraband to his classmates, a direct challenge to her authority. The others fell in line, accepting the offer with an air of nonchalance and began to ignite their own cigarettes, while also igniting their collective dissent. These boys, while not exactly models of good behavior, seemed to have sunk to this level of misconduct under Jarrow's corrupting influence. His sway over them was like a dark cloud, warping their decisions and leading them astray in ways she found disheartening.

Before long, the familiar scent of aged timber that usually clung to the classroom was replaced by the acrid odor of cigarette smoke. The boys reveled in the novelty of their defiant act, indulging in the thrill of smoking within the very confines of the classroom. It wouldn't be long before the smoke began to creep out from under the classroom door, inevitably wafting into the adjacent hallways. Another teacher, perhaps even her head teacher, would surely be alerted by the smell, prompting an investigation. Yumi's mind swirled with uncertainty regarding the potential consequences. Jarrow had certainly made a statement a point about her getting in trouble, but it left her questioning whether such defiance was the norm in this school. Did her authority hold so little weight that these students felt emboldened to challenge it to this extent? Her doubts simmered, making her wonder whether she was an isolated case simply because she was a foreigner, or was this part of a broader pattern of authority erosion within the school's walls.

The crude innuendo this time was shockingly direct. A whirlwind of emotions churned within her, a chaotic blend of heat, dismay, disbelief, and... something far more disconcerting. Her mouth hung open in flabbergasted astonishment, rendering her momentarily speechless.

"J-Jarrow, please, just sit down," she finally managed to stammer, her voice wavering and frail. "Boys, come on, put out those cigarettes. If Mr. Jones catches see this, we'll all be in serious trouble," she pleaded, addressing the rest of the class. But her gaze inevitably returned to Jarrow, who remained stubborn and unyielding in his stance. In that moment Yumi realized. Jarrow is the ringleader, the head of the snake. If he didn't comply, she knew deep down that none of the others would follow suit. She took two steps towards the boy, her heart pounding away in her chest like a taiko drum.

"I'm...I'm waiting Jarrow, I've asked nicely, please sit down so we can get through this," she repeated once more, uncertainty tinged in her voice as she mustered the last remaining ounce of her courage.

 

[Verse]

There was a real pride in him when he saw the horror in Ms. Aoki. This was their differences touching. This was a very clear display in what way he was her antithesis. His power. He was just the badness. Even something as little as smoking in a room where you oughtn't still spelled out exactly who Jarrow Iken was. The cigarettes were the pyre of her authority, but it was also her good intentions being burned at the stake here, with filters in the boys's lips. He liked watching her, when her whole world crumbled a little bit. Titled his head and sucked it in with the tar and oils becoming vapor alongside his victory, in his lungs. Admittedly, this was the best smoke he'd had in quite a while. Maybe she could see the satisfaction in him. Of course, it would only look like youthful malice with whatever wisdom doing crime in the Yareli night buys a young man. He was a lanky, tall monster, sitting here, mocking he good heart, and her foolish pursuit not only to give them good information, but to raise them a little, and make them part of a world where every success didn't have to be through war.

How lovely she was when she fretted. He had shaken her quite a bit. She looked more uncertain from this than when he'd lured her pleasure to the very tips of the lips in her panties. She had a much stronger relationship to her dream of teaching than her propriety, it seemed. Good to know. In that red dress, up there, she looked every bit as a lure that could command boys, if she did it and said it in the right way. She was ripe for his mockery, and every young cock in the room moved when her mouth opened for Jarrow's teasing. There is something erotic when women are put in their place, and they make that face. Her genetic heritage made it look more appropriate, somehow. Jarrow himself shifted slightly, where he was leaning.

At the end of her rope, she shed her remaining confidence. There were scraps of it left, but it was just old mannerisms, not real bravery. He waited. They all did. His lips were smiling, but it was a hungry expression when she came closer. Jealousy and awe filled the row of boys that looked on when the teacher neared their leader, like she was submitting. Jarrow had the filter between his lips while she told them all what to do, and then specifically him. "You want me to put these out, Aoki sensei?" he asked and then nodded backward at the budding men. Somehow they knew to stand up, with all the noises of screeching chair legs. The came closer.

"Then you should offer me something to put them out in, right?" he asked. As he moved to meet her, the others followed, but had not caught up yet. If she stayed where she was, he'd reach her soon. He'd illustrate their difference in size when he stood over her, again. It was quite the picture, for the other boys. Jarrow ashed on the floor of her classroom and then he put the filter back in front of his teeth. This freed up both his hands. This close, she could smell him out of his tanktop, and look at the long muscles that built him. He'd let her answer, but he doubted she'd give him what he wanted, and he didn't feel like settling for less, today.

When she said her bit, and he was sure it'd be enjoyable, he'd grab her by the shoulders, twist her and bend her over one of the desks, ass up. She'd have deja vu from that. And with her wrists crossed ontop of her spine, held in place with one of his hands, his other could lift the skirt of her red dress to see if she'd heeded his no panty rule. If she could get over the initial embarrassment, she might remember why he'd done it when he took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Now this plum cheek might do the trick..." And the gargled excitement from the others young bucks would assure her that her fear may become reality, when the glowing ember at the end of the stick lowered toward her ass.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

The inexperienced teacher had taken a risk with her request, a bold attempt to assert herself as an educator, one final time, as if her words held any kind of sway in this group of misfits. Sadly, not only was she unconvincing, but she also faced off against a boy who displayed no hint of intimidation in the face of her limited authority. Her tactic might have yielded results if she were dealing with one of Jarrow's sycophants, but Jarrow himself seemed utterly impervious to... what, exactly? It wasn't just indifference; there was something else, a defiance that went beyond mere disregard. As her attention shifted behind Jarrow, she observed the other boys rise in a synchronized manner, an orderliness that she secretly envied. I wish they'd listen to my words like that, she mused, though it felt like an oddly trivial thought given the gravity of the situation.

The classroom was plunged into a shadowy gloom as Jarrow's imposing figure suddenly loomed nearer to her. "You—You can extinguish the cigarette in the bin outside," she uttered, her words directed more to his chest than his eyes. She couldn't summon the courage to meet his penetrating gaze, which seemed to bear down on her, rendering her small and insignificant. The overpowering scent of his youthful sweat, laced with the acrid tinge of cigarette smoke, filled her nostrils. An irresistible urge to look away, to escape, to flee the classroom, the school, and return to the warmth of home where she was cherished, where respect was a given, coursed through her. Yet, her feet remained rooted, steadfast and immovable.

What occurred next seemed like a disorienting whirlwind; the room swirled in a dizzying frenzy, and before she knew it, she was sprawled face down on one of the desks. Her arms were firmly restrained, twisted behind her back, rendering her powerless. Yumi let out a desperate yelp, her voice echoing through the room as she cried, her cheek pressed against the cool, worn timber. "Jarrow! Knock it off! This isn't a joke!" she protested, her words muffled by the desk. In her vulnerable position, she found herself noticing minute details—the intricate carvings etched into the desk's surface, the faded markings, and even the names that had been etched into the wood over the years.

Through the subtle shifting of her dress, she could make out that he had raised it above her waist, revealing her plain white cotton panties to the entire class. The realization of Jarrow's intentions struck her like a bolt of lightning, and she immediately attempted to wriggle free from his grasp. "P-Please! Jarrow stop! I'm sorry! I started wearing them again because I didn't know if you would be back..." Uttering those words aloud took her by surprise, and she instinctively clamped her eyes shut, as if bracing herself for what might come next.

 

[Verse]

The bin outside? He thought she was giving herself away, even when she tried to push her authority. She turned her head like a blushing bride, and he was engaged by the sight of it. What a display she offered. It fit her smaller form well, and her asian features were made for this kind of reception of his nearness. She wouldn't meet his eyes. That was her mistake. In the blindspot of her attention, he could achieve all manner of blackened miracles. He twirled her, and he body was either too weak to stop him, or secretly willing enough to follow. It only mattered to her, because it ended up with her bent over, anyway. The new pose had the males livid. Just the presentation of something so delicious was cause for their riot.

Jarrow's claim kept them back. But at leas they got to listen when her sweet voice tried again. There was no one here that believed her. Her bolstering was empty. She only invited them to do the opposite of what she was saying, now. Jarrow let her test her new bindings, which were just his own strength. It had been enough last time, when he'd almost brought her over the edge. He thought of that now, when he had her pinned. The class were approving of her cotton panties, but Jarrow sneered. "Boring fucking old lady." he muttered, and that made the others laugh, some of it in sympathy. To think the red dress hid something as pedestrian as that. She tried harder to get away when she realized, but he squeezed her wrists harder to let her know just where that might lead her.

The cigarette, destined to make a mark on that plain cotton stopped when she confessed. They all quieted at the implications. "N-no way..." one of the eager boys protested and looked at their leader for confirmation. Jarrow shrugged and put the cigarette back in his mouth. "Y-you get to order her around?!" another had to know. Jarrow ignored them and looked down at his teacher, now obviously his bitch. His free hand glommed on to a pretty cheek, thumb stroking inward to bunch the cotton up until that side was wedged between her buttocks. It was a very lewd way to wear that otherwise sensible underwear. He groaned at the texture her ass gave up to his palm.

"Well, I guess you know you don't need them anymore, from now on." he continued, proud to have affected her intimate sartorial choices for so long. He let go of the cheek he was squeezing to roll the panties down. He bent so he got them all the way to her knees before getting up again. The other boys were quietly dropping their jaws when he parted her ass with his free hand. They got to see everything, and now would know how Ms. Aoki kept her pubes. And her asshole. They sighed, disappointed when he let go but were excited to realized he did it to unzip.

One of them swore when he took out his cock, and it smacked and jiggled one of her buttocks. He grabbed the base of the monster sticking out from his hips, to whack her ass a couple of more times from the side. Despite their lewd first intimate meeting, this would be the first time she felt him. He rolled the head of the now hard limb over the mound of her butt, until he could nestled it in the divide. Small japanese woman vs what must be a fucking giant specimen of white cock. He lowered it to where he'd touched her last time, aligning with her womanly hole. "It's time to learn your lesson, Yumi." he said. By now they'd all know if she was bone dry or if there'd be some truth to Jarrow's confidence reflected in the shine on her pussy lips.

"Now way that's going to take you." one of the boys muttered and actually squatted down to be at eyelevel with the nearing massacre.

Jarrow laughed and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, smoke billowing out from his nostrils. "Japan imports small things to us. It's out job to stretch them to workable size. Isn't that right, Yumi?" he asked, shaking her a bit by the grip her had on her wrists, that kept her in place. And when she answered, he'd make sure to pop the bulbous tip into her, no matter how tight the fit.

 

[Aiko-Nao]

The reaction from the other boys merely underscored the gravity of her mistake. "No! I mean..." She attempted to correct herself, but it was too late; they had already drowned out her timid voice with their incredulous exclamations, marveling at the extent of Jarrow's dominion over her, both physically and psychologically. An instinctive impulse to regain a semblance of authority prompted her to try and turn her head, but the harsh reality yanked her back down. It was a desperate bid to reclaim some semblance of composure, but she was swiftly brought back down to the reality of her predicament.

What should I do? Should I call for another teacher? In this remote corner of the school, the prospect of a colleague stumbling upon this scene by chance was exceedingly slim. Then, in a sudden, shocking moment, she felt her panties being tugged into the crevice between her buttocks, a rough finger tracing along her sensitive skin. The sensation sent a shockwave of tension coursing through her body.

"No! Jarrow, stop!" she shouted, her voice now infused with a newfound assertiveness, as if scolding a puppy dog or a child. Her plea didn't achieve anything, like most requests made of Jarrow. If anything it had an adverse reaction, and she soon felt the elastic of her panties taut around her knees, her bare behind and trimmed vagina on display to the entire classroom, met with gasps and cheers.

Panic began to consume her, unleashing a torrent of harrowing thoughts that assaulted her consciousness. What if, by some stroke of misfortune, another teacher walked in at this very moment? Would her inability to maintain control over the class, a situation that had escalated to this alarming extent, be an instant trigger for her dismissal? Would this be the end of the life she had so ardently pursued, the life she had worked so hard to build? How could she possibly face returning home after being lauded and praised for her unwavering dedication to this program? The slap of Jarrow's cock against her bare behind ripped her from her rabbit-hole of thoughts.

No. This was going too far. It was too much. Not here, not in front of other students. Not inside the school. Yumi tried to pull her arms away, but Jarrow's lock on her wrists was too strong, instead forcing her to use her body as leverage, swaying her hips helplessly. In her mind's eye she was making headway, but in reality she had barely shifted the desk she was bent over an inch to the side. All it did was buy her a few seconds of time, before she felt Jarrow's huge tip press against her opening. Embarrassingly for Yumi, her very wet opening.

"Jarrow! If you stop now we can forget about this completely, I promise!" It was a desperate final attempt, one that Yumi understood would likely prove entirely futile.

 

[Verse]

He heard her futile tries at taking her words back. It wasn't her fault. He'd been putting words in women's mouths for quite some time. It seemed if he could misunderstand them in the right way, part of them had to go along with it. Like everything they said was a contract they had to uphold, nomatter how misconstrued. It was a pity she felt she had to defend herself in any way, but there was a deep need to please and be pleasant in Yumi, even when she was being manhandled, and owed them increasingly less. He was sure her heritage and upbringing made this meek impulse even more prominent in her. Not that she'd shown herself to be formidable before he applied his physical strength, either. She still was there, bent over the bench.

They saw the twitch of those cheeks when he exposed and touched them, and rearranged their last line of defense. The sight was lewd and the teacher reacted. They all cooed with pitched delight when she called out, finally. Cocks started filling inside ill fitting pants when they got to see the secret gardening of their up-tight teacher. One of the boys swayed from getting lightheaded at the sudden assault of eroticism. Jarrow was pleased with her, and expressed it in an animalistic, dominant grunt. She got quiet, like the chock of being bared like that was too much for her. It gave him plenty of time to admire his little Japanese fuckdoll. He snickered behind her when the panic triggered by his cock kissing the soft flesh of her rump had her hips sway, even more inviting.

The boy who'd gotten real close had his dick out too, jerking it as he stared at the junction between Yumi and Jarrow, bridged by that obese length. "S-she's absolutely soaked for ya, man..." he said, jealous and entranced - angry and in awe. Their heads turned to her, when she gave her last words as their untouched teacher. A last offer.

"Gee, thanks, Ms. Aoki." he said and the boys got quiet, their breaths held tightly in their lungs as he pushed forward. They exhaled in rhythm with his cock invading her. The bulb of his cock easily slid between the young teacher's lower lips, and their moist was welcoming. He was sure she'd be tight as a fucking earhole.

He sighed darkly with the advance of his blunt weapon into her sensitive tunnel, making sure she'd expand whether she meant to or not.

"Fuck, man, that looks cramped!" the commentator went on, his hand fervently jerking his own, inferior peen.

Jarrow held on to her wrists as he inserted as far as he could. They all wondered if he'd bottom out in the older woman. Whether her cervix was beyond him or not, he'd retreat when he'd reached the depth he could. Half length out, and then in again. Slow to let her asian pussy adjust to the pale cock. The contrast in color between her ass and his dick were striking. He soon helped himself to faster pumps in her. It was actually happening. The student was raw-fucking his teacher.