An Academic Decline starring Verse and TiedForAll

[TiedForAll]

Professor Marco Hessels was a man making gains and going places, he’d just turned 40 and was close to getting tenure. It had been a long, hard slog, academic life was more competitive than it had been, the ever pressing need to publish papers and books, to get students into classes, to keep those pampered brats in your class, get them to buy your books… Some departments had it easy, Biologists? Just find a new bacteria. Chemists? Easy, just finish the day with your eyebrows intact, and mathematicians? Just squiggle something incomprehensible on a page and call it a discovery. But he’d chosen psychology and a branch of psychology that required huge amounts of data, piles of statistics and endless experiments. There simply wasn’t the time of day to do all the things that needed to be done to get where he wanted to be in the time he wanted to get there. So corners cut, the occasional data point added or removed, a bit of cut/paste/reword he wasn’t proud of it, and made sure it never affected the core results. But it did mean he could get a couple more papers out of his data than his peers and so he got cited more, and started to rise through the ranks. His skill had been to do it where it wasn’t so obvious, and when you’ve done it once and got away, it became easier and easier. Then there was the money, the salary wasn’t bad, but never enough, and selling books would only get beer money.

Computers and internet had been a boon, all the AI, Chat and other statistical wonders had made his work so much easier in so many ways. Then there was the other side of the internet, the darker and more profitable side. The university was full of young men and women, fit and trusting. He’d made a nice income from selling stills and videos and students, he wasn’t so stupid as to break in the dorms, but was able to wrangle his way into certain areas such as changing rooms by way of teaching classes on ‘the psychology of place’ and experiments on social norms. It was all easy enough, the university was quite conservative and he was able to demonstrate that this work fitted in with their worldview, generating work that supported conservative gender and relationship norms. He got brownie points from the administration and regents, the students had their norms reinforced and he got extra secret income. All off the books of course. Security was of the ‘bored guy in a shed’ with campus IT being not much better so he was able to avoid any checks they had. He wasn’t that fussed if it was male or female as long as it would generate money.

His current work was a collaboration with a professor of ethics and moral, a genius idea to give him extra cover. He would task his students to come up with experimental proposals that were both illegal and immoral, with extra points being given for those that could be implemented. The other professor would then interview them about their work, the impact and consequences.

And so it was, late one Friday evening he was in his office reading through the proposals, only a few were of interest. The best had an exploration of Stockholm and related dependency syndromes. It outlines how an unwilling student would be conditioned by a carefully crafted mixture of abuse, torture and kindness that would trigger Stockholm syndrome. The thoughts of having some of those students in such a facility was interesting. The opportunities for free sex was ok, And the power, well power was better than sex, the thoughts of them begging for release, offering themselves to him was, ahhh chef’s kiss. But the money, the money he’d earn from selling images and films of the spoilt brats in there, now that, that was the real turn on. It was late, he was alone, he glanced to check that his office door was shut. He reached down and undid his fly, got his already hardening cock out and started to stroke himself, pictures of begging brats and money filling his thoughts.

 

[Verse]

Clyde Tarran wasn't really the university kind. That's not to say characters like him couldn't be found on campus, they were usually just attending the big parties, or pilfering whatever elicit thing these students and sometimes professors needed to make it through the days and nights. He had enough tattoos that they spilled out of his black leather collar, up his neck. It underlined his youthful jawline. Black hair like a mop ontop of his head. Dark eyes and plenty of lashes too. He didn't have to struggle to get any. He did pretty well in the underworld. His bones were long and his skin was so thin that it was almost a miracle he managed to hang any amount of muscle on it. Mostly it crowded up his upper back and shoulders, for punching. Yeah, Clyde wasn't really uni material.

But that's why he had to, they'd said; the elders in the crime family he'd joined. Here in Yareli City you had to go under a banner. This gang were a lot of the tattoos he wore. So he had to do their bidding, but he didn't mind this gig. They'd had enough pull to get him in on his shit grades, but still hounded him about staying there. So he actually had to do some work. Well, he fucked some preppy cunts until their minds were gone for him, so they'd type shit up for him instead. He thought the ethics psychology thing would be a fucking blast, given the hypocrisy, but he had some fun dictating while getting his dick sucked. He'd read the paper the girl wrote, and he'd be damned if he didn't stand behind it. Still, things were getting dire for the hooligan on the academic front. So he'd had one of the underlings he'd been afforded look shit up for him. Turned out Prof Hessels was a perv. The file had dinged on his phone yesterday, and Clyde had only now caught up to all the pictures. Some peeping tom shit, but it was more than enough to derail a man who worked for this squeaky clean, judgmental institute.

Marco had set up a meeting today, but crime kept you busy. Also why should Clyde be bothered with a timeline some old geezer set? It was now three hours gone, but Clyde wanted to see the professor anyway. Walked toward his office. This late, there were very few people to shake their heads at the black-clad, menacing youth, striding through the corridors to the more prestigious offices. Wasn't that unheard of. Washouts got to meet with the good lecturers too. Didn't mean the snotty bitches who worked here had to be happy about it. Clyde showed his entire tongue to some librarian type as he passed her, and she had that appalled and aroused look he knew from a few checkered skirt wearing hoes he'd been balls deep in since joining the student body.

Getting there, he'd been thinking about his proposal. It had mostly been some midnight-in-a-bar philosophies with real life knowledge of the Import Houses where the trafficked girls were kept. He'd seen their eyes when they did the work they'd been forced into. Some of them were broken. But some of them looked at their handlers like they were gods. And all of them obeyed. Even if it was the worst acts asked of them, they did it. He thought about that a lot, and it may have shown when he had it written down. It's what prof Hessels had asked for, right?

Still, the boy must have known it wasn't up to snuff, or maybe that the professor didn't have the balls for such a proposal, because he'd put out the order, and gotten all this material that could be traced back to Marco himself. Always on the offensive. Like the higher-ups had said, he had to stay on at all cost. They moved a lot of wares through the ones who were enrolled, and people around here paid premium for even low grade stuff.

Clyde already knew which office belonged to his professor. He'd been here a few times to discuss how things were going. Marco was real proud of where he'd gotten. Last one to leave for the night, it seemed, since no one was in this particular corridor. The door opened without a sound. Well kept hinges. Clyde couldn't help but smile to himself when the scent hit him. He knew what was going on before he even heard the flapping sounds. His phone was up as he turned the corner. The professor hadn't seen him yet. But there he was, cock washed in the glow of the computer, and the big letters of Clyde's own proposal blaring from the document he had up. Entirely pathetic, but also very useable, as the recording device saved it to its own memory, and uploaded it to a secure place.

He waited until Marco was trembling with near cumming excitement. "Professor Marco Hessels? Is that the proposal on Stockholm syndrome you're jerking it to?" Clyde asked and made sure to get everything on camera. "Don't fucking get up yet, you disgusting prick. Just what the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, towering over the sitting, formerly authoritative figure.

 

[TiedForAll]

Physically Marco was nothing special, a smidge under 5 foot 10 inches tall, short black hair with the occasional grey hair daring to put in a presence round his temples. He was mostly clean shaven unless he forgot to shave for several days. His arms were no longer long enough so he now wore reading glasses. Physically he was a combination of a lithe frame with the addition of padding that came from a sedentary job mixed with too much canteen food, his rear and waistline had some extra padding and there was even the hint of a ‘man boob’ if he jumped up quickly, which he rarely did. His most striking was his long eyelashes and almost pencil thin eyebrows, which coupled with a rounder face and lithe figure tended to give him a more feminine appearance at first glance. Dress wide while he went for the department ‘uniform; of trainers, jeans and either a shirt or t-shirt depending on how formal things needed to be. He was the walking definition of unthreatening,

Another thing that wasn’t particularly special was his cock, it was ‘almost average’ in size was his standard reply if anyone asked, which they never did. In reality it was a good inch shorter than the average man, but a bit thicker, he thought. So on average, it was average. The sudden appearance of one of his students, the one whose work he was reading, Terran, Tarrain, they were all forgettable, his eyes glanced at the document on his computer, Tarran that was it. All tattoos, leather jacket and attitude, probably missed his mum and called her every night for a bedtime story. There were a few memorable students, some excellent, some terrible. Tarran was at the bottom end of the forgettable scale, not so bad that he was memorable for being bad, just good enough to get through classes and exams. That saying the report had been interesting, it had contained more detail and thought than the others, less righteous hand wringing than the others. He suspected that this was taken from some part of the internet, either lifted directly or heavily cribbed from, AI generated even. Still it had caught his eye, perhaps it might make the little brat buick his ideas up in class.

But that wasn’t Marco’s immediate concern, it was Tarran’s appearance while he had been jerking off. He doubted he’d been seen given the poor lighting, he could explain it away as the necessary occasional adjustments that any man needed to make from time-to-time, The sudden appearance of Tarran made his erection disappear almost as quickly which only strengthened his conclusion that nothing much had been seen. To his credit Marco managed to keep his cool, he sat up, slipping his flaccid cock inside in jeans but there was no hiding his flushed face or the sheen of pre-cum on his hand. Over the years he’d faced down those who had pointed out ‘issues’ with his data, sometimes in conferences, so he was used to thinking on his feet. Losing his cool now would potentially cause problems.
“Mr.. Tarran,” Marco sat up and tried to discreetly wipe the pre-cum from his hand on the underside of the chair before looking the student in the eye “I didn’t hear you knock.” He lent forward to hide his open fly, “I was reading your proposal, a bit brutal and explicit so I might need to ask you to tone it down somewhat but otherwise it is the best of the bunch so there’s no need to ask for any extension or matter that need to be taken into consideration.” he looked the student in the eye and then at the door, giving him the message that it was time for him to go and completly blanking him on the accusation and challange. It had worked many times before and there was no reason why it wouldn't work now.

 

[Verse]

It was always hard to know what people would do in a situation like this. Sexual degradation was usually at the forefront of possibilities in Tarran's own circles, so they had a more cerebral reaction, and then followed the impulses that came after. It would seem this absolute psycho of a man was more comfortable with the calmer approach. Unimposing, prof Hessels was also used to passing under the radar when he wanted to. Tarran usually sized other men up for their value in his own field, which was blatant violence or poorly conceived and concealed plots for violence. Marco didn't really have anything to offer in that arena. If anything, the weakness and softness that Marco had to offer had him categorized more as a woman than a man, in Tarran's eyes.

Still, staying calm in a situation like this was proof that maybe there was more to Marco than met the eye. For one, he didn't mind jerking it to a proposal of what could be boiled down to sexual domination for power. Quietly, and still with his phone up and recording, Clyde looked the other male over. There was a vibrating threat on the taller man's aura as he weighed the situation. Marco was still trying to make this out to be about the proposal. Well, if he thought that'd help him, Clyde could follow that trail too. He crossed his arms as much as he could allow himself while still holding the phone in an opportune way.

"So you're saying you like it?" he asked dryly. If he couldn't keep his head in strange situations, he'd be dead. So he got closer to the professor that despite his little act, was still sitting on his chair. Maybe men who were so close to tenure thought they could stare into a recoding device and talk their way out of whatever had been saved on its memory. The tall youth leaned against the short side of the desk and was looking down at the lecturer. Clyde used his free hand to swipe the computer, which turned it toward himself. A quick scan over it with the phone would cement exactly what the middle-aged teacher had been pumping his inferior cock to. While the hardware wasn't impressive, its hardness had been something else. "I guess that explains fucking CRANKING your dick to it." he reiterated for future viewers.

Clyde slid over to Marco's side, the corner of the desk, whereas Marco was occupying the middle of that long side. Clyde lifted his leg and planted the sole of his boot on Marco's unimpressive chest and shoulder. Being as compromised as the professor was, Clyde assume he'd be slow to action, and Clyde was quick with his kicks. Putting some pressure on by extending his long leg, Clyde should be able to simply topple the other man back and onto the floor. There were a few eventualities that'd get Marco out of it, and Clyde was ready for them, but he didn't expect someone with their fliers open to be able to outwit or otherwise best him. Clyde was sure Marco would end up on the floor, with Clyde standing over him, still filming.

"I got the files and enough to tie you to them, you know, the pictures and material you've been selling on the side." he said. "Some pretty clear sources on where some of your greatest hits came from too." he grinned and shrugged, like he had done it all, and not some poor person who happened to know computers, but was also known to the Yakuza. "So I was thinking we update our agreement, yeah?"

 

[TiedForAll]

…Cranking your dick to it… A twitch ran over Marco’s face, so he had seen what he had been doing. But the human memory was malleable, and with the right prompts doubt could be sown.
“That is your interpretation of what you saw, what you so expressly described as ‘cranking’, I was merely adjusting my dress for comfort, The light here isn’t good so I understand how you could have misinterpreted what you saw so I will not take the matter further.” Marco took a breath to steady himself “As for the report, yes, you have clearly understood the brief, and unlike the rest of your peers, applied yourself to answering the brief. So, with the changes I have suggested then I would expect this to get an A or an A+ from me.” That was his offer for Tarran to leave this matter be, a grade high enough to see him through the rest of the year.

The man’s next move, well that was, intimidating, A+ or not this was going to get him expelled, and be given teh dry cleaning bill to remove whatever was now on his shirt. This was a power play for sure, and while the academic world seemed polite and social, and in many ways it was, it had its own ‘dark side’ which bred a ruthlessness which surprised many. ‘Proof by Intimidation’ wasn’t a recognised form of proof, but it existed. The competitive academic world was full of subtle power plays and moves, networks of contacts, a set of ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’ relationships from the mundane to the malicious. While Tarran was no doubt physically intimidating and could hold his own in a fight, this was closer to a game of poker, a game of bluff and counter-bluff. Clearly something else was going on.

A larger twitch, he could feel the colour going from his cheeks if this brat had found what it sounded like he had found. Marco needed time, time to think, time to come up with another plan. “What files Mr Tarran? The world is full of files? And what do you mean, agreement? We don’t have an agreement, only what terms you’ll be expelled under.” Marco decided he could push back as well, not physically, but he could still push back.

 

[Verse]

A pandering shrink of Clyde's lips as he tilted his head and listened to Marco's attempt at recovering. The way he went into why Clyde may have been mistaken with what he saw at least in some way reassured the youth that the older man did not want to be associated with the act. The lean to the handsome head became a bit more predatory when the promise of the best grade was put on the table. Negotiations. He was familiar with this. He'd looked down at people who would plead, and offer him anything, because of the violence he'd been sent to them with. And other harsh entities who meant to trade violence with him, as well. It worked the same in here as in the old warehouses out there. Commerce. That's how any institution goes around, whether the tradable goods were money in accounts, or honor through perceived hard work. Still, the Tarran boy turned the camera in shallow angles to remind the professor that lenses didn't make the same mistake as human eyes in low lighting. He'd seen the professor's dick on there, and his expression said as much to Marco now.

He had a good idea of Marco's weight and built when he pushed him with his boot. While at the time it was unclear whether the older man had toppled over back or suffered any other way from the sole, it was obvious it affected Marco. Clyde was sure Marco hadn't really meant his accomplishments to be physical ones, but no matter how much merit he put in his own work, and the results of his brainpower, he wasn't immune to physical intimidation. How many chemists who'd lost everything and turned to the Yakuza for a second chance hadn't also failed with their brains when physical men came to visit them, to collect? "I have more where that came from." he reminded Marco, whether he was somehow still sitting, or toppled on the floor. Simple as that. Threat of violence was a classic for a reason.

He outright laughed at the fear eating away at Marco's complexion when the man tried to lawyer himself out of this situation. It was obvious he knew the threat had merit, that he'd really done all those things. Clyde didn't need the bought and paid techs for that. "I even got a girl. She used to be name Mia Wong." he said. "One of your bestsellers. She'll speak in court if we ask her to." One of the techs had been particularly thorough and found her. "But if you really want to press me on that other shit, here ya go."

The phone in his hand didn't stop recording, he just used it to simultaneously send the first link of evidence of prof. Hessels's falsifying data and generated essays. Clyde had been told it was pretty cut and clear. He sent it to Marco's official university email, which meant it could be checked if he gave the board any reason to delve into his correspondence, even if he deleted it. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg." He relied more on the edge of the desk as he made himself comfortable, still filming. "Now. Stand up and show what you were doing at the desk, bitch." his voice was low now, grave.

 

[TiedForAll]

For Marco his world had exploded, literally and metaphorically. There was the explosion of being all but kicked off his chair and onto the floor. Despite that, despite finding himself sprawled on the floor to the side of his desk Marco had managed to keep his cool despite being shaken. Marcos had changed his tune from offering an excellent grade to make the problem go away, to threatening Tarran with expulsion. Then there was the second explosion.
The pictures
The films
Mia Wong

It was like a bucket of iced water had just been emptied over him, washing away all his composure, giving the lie to his control of the situation.

All the plans
All the schemes
All the assurances
All the checks

All for nothing.

If that information got out he was not only professionally ruined, personally ruined, he was going to be run out of town and right into federal jail, and that was before those people sued him for
This Tarran had nailed him to the wall, the evidence was damning and all the most expensive lawyer could do would be to get a slightly better plea-bargain deal. All that information was now in this thug of a student’s hands.

"Now. Stand up and show what you were doing at the desk, bitch."

There were no options open, he was physically stronger, and open to violence, but that was nothing compared to the violence that his voice promised if Marco didn’t obey. There was no way of getting up and not exposing his cock to the student, to the… Maro’s stomach fell as he noticed the phone pointed at him. He hadn’t twigged at first, most students were symbolically attached to their phones but it dawned on him that the little bastard had probably been filming him all along. Marco struggled to his feet, his cock flopping about as he stood. He looked at the floor, his face deep red, his mind racing but blank, his hand started tugging on his flaccid cock in a poor imitation of a few minutes ago.

 

[Verse]

He had thought this little shit of a man had been a bit too formidable for too long into this. Even on the floor after the kick. But as the situation dawned on Marco, that all the things that had gone his way before had abandoned him, all the things that were going for him had been blown away just now, he took on the posture and attitude that Clyde Tarran was used to. The taller male grinned sadistically when Marco physically shrunk after a moment of wide-eyed deliberation. A small, mocking chuckle rewarded the adult for finally thinking straight in an dire situation that was getting more and more absurd. Clyde shifted as all the facts compounded and crushed the spirit of the otherwise proud and collected man.

He had a shrill laughter out of his pressed lips when Marco got up. The prof had been reluctant, but now he obeyed pretty well. Like he'd just seen the camera. Just his compliance prooved that it was all true, if the digital trail hadn't. He laughed quietly to himself as the shorter person presented himself for the recording, and started playing with the hanging peen. Clyde let it go on for about a minute. "Oh, common, you weakling." Clyde sighed and slumped slightly in his lean on the desk. "If you can't entertain me, then I might just send all this to entertain myself." it wasn't far from true, despite the elders wanting this evidence to yield more than Tarran's entertainment.

"How about you get completely nude, old man?" he asked. "And tell the camera here exactly what you were doing, and what you were doing it to, when I came in?" There'd be more confession needed later, but for now he'd just work on the humiliation. It was his favorite part, after all, and just the start for Marco. By the end of this, the regarded professor wouldn't have any honor left in his own eyes.

"And I'll tell you what, if you can get hard enough, and big enough, show that you're bigger than me, I'll let you off. You can have your life back just like that." While the flaccid dick was a good way to humiliate this fuck, it'd be more fun to beat him when he was at his supposed best. Clyde Tarran had the kind of dick some artist made gag comics about, it was so enormous. He'd turned rather manly men into weeping subs when comparing. If Marco thought he could bet it all on his own size, thinking a young student couldn't outsize him, it would crush him. "Go ahead. Get naked and get hard, and then come over here and take me out of my jeans."

And if the already distressed professor did all this, and undid the zipper of the jeans on his student, he'd be entirely gobsmacked by the absolute beast that flopped out, dwarfing his cock despite only being half full.

 

[TiedForAll]

There was no dignity open to him, it was either a private or public shaming. While private, in his office, there was still a sense of control, that he might still be able to out think, to out smart this brat, or at least come to a compromise. If this went public, well all hope was lost.

How about you get completely nude…

As if to keep some control Marco undressed in a methodical manner, controlled and paced, folding his clothes as he removed them. It was only when he was down to his boxers that the cracks showed. He paused, glanced at Tarran’s expression then with a faint whimper he pulled them down and stepped out of them leaving him completely naked next to the pile of his clothes. He could feel his nipples hardening in the cool air, his cock shrinking to almost nothing from the humiliation. Despite this he started to play with himself again, tugging and stroking his cock trying to get an erection again.
“I, I was masturbating, masturbating to your experimental proposal.” Marco finally found the words, they tumbled out in a stuttering mess, a confession, all in an attempt to keep his position in society by appeasing this brat.

It took much effort but finally Marco managed to get a passable erection, barely 8 inches. Acutely aware of his cock swaying as he walked towards Tarran. Almost immediately he could feel his erection begin to fail, meaning he had to start stroking himself again, walking naked towards the camera and stroking his cock in full view of the lens. But he had to ensure he stayed hard if he wanted to get out of this. He forced himself to stand in front of Tarran, naked and masturbating. He had to kneel down to reach the man’s flies. Finally he let go of his own cock and with trembling hands reached out and started to undo Tarran’s flies. He looked aside as he reached in, he'd never touched another man's cock before. With a trembling hand he reached in, he gripped something hard, he pulled it out, it felt long and heavy, still flexible as the brat wasn't even fully erect yet. He couldn't look, but as it slipped through his hand it was obvious that Tarran was much bigger than he was buy several inches. Marco sagged, his own cock deflating in defeat.