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.

 

[Verse]

The attempted bravado was nowhere to be seen. The professor had nothing left to put up against the sheer force his student had come here with. Clyde got to look as the resistance drained from the man, and he complied with the terms because of his utter lack of choice. Why was it more satisfying to see this twink undress than having a hooker strip? Maybe because Marco had hung so much on his own honor, and the idea of himself. Clyde relished in it. There was still a pretense of something, even as the clothes came off. He hadn't expected the vanilla teacher to give a good show, and there was plenty of humiliation sewn with his prim way of getting naked. Clyde did get to laugh from behind the camera, though, when the last item of concealment had to go. The cock was pitiful, but the image of the naked, effeminate, middle aged man in utter humiliation did do rather well on the little screen. Clyde stayed quiet while the man tried to save his hard-on. It wasn't going too well, but he got there again, eventually. Not that the end result was very impressive, anyway.

"That's right." Clyde agreed to the reiteration of what had happened. This clip was now enough to end Marco on it's own. People who got blackmailed always made the same mistake. "And isn't such a thing amoral mr. professor?" he asked and felt rather good about himself. Clyde's voice and posture grew steadier, the more Marco fell apart. He had always been the kind to feed on misery, especially the kind that he'd created. He continued to capture the waving cock as he walked, and he thought Marco lost it partially because he focused on it.

Once Marco had come to him, Clyde waited for further obedience, and gasped quietly in excitement to have forced the man to take out his cock. The view from above was rather effectual, and the smaller male handling the gargantuan cock conjured the image of a predator being awoken by its prey. "You think you're gonna get any good results with just one hand, Marco?" he asked. He hadn't missed that Marco had intentionally not looked at his pride and joy. The fat head waited to be acknowledge, and the beastly limb was ready to have both of those small hands please it.

If Marco went along with it, and did use both hands, Clyde would relax and let the arousal come, having his cock fill up and grow solid. "And now have a taste." He wanted to capture the moment Marco saw the beast, and how he may tackle the new task. If Marco thought he could get away with just the measly one-hand-failure he was performing, he'd receive a stinging backhand.

 

[TiedForAll]

"And isn't such a thing amoral mr. professor?"

“Yes, yes.” Marco spoke, his voice as flat and defeated as his cock “It was.”
Marco was naked, his cock now deflated, on his knees in front of another man, with his semi erect cock in his hand, all being filmed. Yet he had to agree that he was the amoral one.

“You think you're gonna get any good results with just one hand…”

“Ohh,” Marco’s voice trembled as he took hold of Tarran’s cock with both hands and started to stroke it. He knew what masturbation was, he knew that he was now masturbating another man with both his hands. All for the camera. It felt heavy, very heavy, solid… 10, 12 inches? Whatever it was it felt huge in his hands, they’d only known his cock till now. He looked down and to the side, his face burning with shame as he felt the cock swell and harden in his hands. He kept stroking away, Tarran’s cock grew rock hard in response, he wanted to run away, but daren’t let go, daren’t stop.

"And now have a taste."

Marco grew pale, finally he found a voice “P, please Mr Tarran, sir, please.” he stammered after he was told to ‘have a taste’ it didn’t take a PhD to work out what Tarran meant by that, it was too much, too far and all but recoiled at the instruction. “Please sir, I, I can’t do that, I, I just can’t, I, I’ve never…” Marco’s voice trailed off “I, I’m not like that,” he said quietly, his voice tense with fear and emotion.

 

[Verse]

It was difficult enough to get a straight answer out of the professor in class. Clyde didn't ask that many, but there were teacher's pets that'd do anything for the older man's attention. And Marco liked to have that power so much he didn't want to let it go just by staying what they wanted, which were the facts, and also how it may relate to any assignments later. From what little Clyde seen of academics, it was a transcending theme. So it was particularly sweet to have Marco say whatever Clyde wanted, and with such trembling submission. All while tending to the younger man's cock.

Clyde's head dropped back for a second when another hand came to help. It was a feeling of being better enveloped and tended to. And looking down on the no longer dignified, femme-looking professor earned the recent sex slave a pearl of precum from the slit in the hefty staff he was jerking. The face by the big cock looked miserable, but in a very fetching way. "So pathetic." The Tarran boy muttered to himself in astonishment at Mr. Hessels's metamorphosis.

He listened to Marco's pleas, both on camera and in the real world, it rung rather false that the man couldn't do it, when he was already such a good cock-jerker. Unlike women, who were usually poorly trained and only guessing at speed and firmness, Marco was doing a rather cerebral and good job, despite what that might do to his ego. Clyde stayed quiet up there, staring down, letting the silence be infected with the flapping noises of Marco's admirable job. He didn't mind being called sir. Marco had done that himself. He didn't even need to be told. It let Clyde know there was a whore in there, ready to be exploited.

He then reached down with a hand not holding the phone, to stick two fingers into Marco's lying mouth, and depress his tongue. Clyde hooked his finger under Marco's chin, too, to completely control his head. "You're gonna suck it. Or being disgraced and run out will be the least of your worries." he told the now limp dicked older man on his knees. Clyde pulled his fingers out and wiped them over Marco's face. "Get to, bitch."

 

[TiedForAll]

Stroke
Stroke
Stroke
Stroke
Any man without absolute self control knew how to masturbate, and as the apple doesn't fall far from the tree with respect to biology, the mechanics of masturbation between men wasn’t that difficult. Most men would, if they had to admit it, were good at masturbating, after all they all had years of practice.
Stroke
Stroke
Stroke
Stroke
Marco was blanking what was happening, disassociating. He could feel Tarran;s cock grow hard and heavy in his hands, but also he couldn’t. It was like someone else was there doing it, he was an observer. Of course that was all a load of BS as well, he couldn’t separate the fact that he was nude and on his knees in front of this brat who now controlled his future. Inside a pocket of rage began to form. Rage, anger, indignation, fury, it was all there. IIt was like a point of light, of focus, he wanted to rip this man’s cock off and beat him to death with it. Yes, that was it, tear, shred, revenge, hot raw revenge!
Stroke
Stroke
Stroke
Stroke
The pictures, the films, Mia Wong, the videos taken, the video being taken… Marco wanted to scream at just how impotent he was, naked and on his knees. There was nothing he could do to touch Tarran, but Tarran could do everything to ruin him. The man was stronger and violent, intimidating and threatening, cunning and cruel. Everything that Marco wasn’t. All this fed into the internal rage he was feeling, hot, red impotent rage. The only outward sign would be Tarran feeling a slightly tighter grip on his cock.
Stroke
Stroke
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The head is the most protected area of a body, all the major sense organs are there. Tarran shoving his fingers into mouth came as an abrupt shock to Marco, His head forced up and into the camera. Spme students tried to act all menacing and threatening, full of bravado and swagger, most just wanted to hide that they missed their mum. Tarran was not acting, Marco was a fairly good judge of character, he had needed to be so he could work the system and play people. In Tarran, well he may still miss his mum, but that feeling was not the cause of his threats. “Y, yes sir.” Marco could barely speak
Marco’s breath caught as he let go of Tarran’s cock, he was visibly trembling as he forced himself up and face to face with Tarran’s cock. He gave a faint whimper, a mew, a whine… And opened her mouth. almost recoiling at taste of the precum at the tip,
Get to, bitch
He pushed his head forward, adjusting his jaw wider and taking the head of Tarran’s cock into his mouth and then a couple of inches more, lips closing around the shaft. Before moving his head back till it was almost out, then forward again..
Suck
Suck
Suck
Suck

 

[Verse]

Clyde Tarran was fed this kind of thing rather often; the fall of another man, utter defeat, confusion. It was something you should work toward and earn, but the tall youth got to eat this kind of rare delicacy regularly. While he had a base of cruelty already, this kind of lifestyle and its reoccurring rewards made Clyde worse. He had become a connoisseur of other people's misery. He could pick out the subtle changes between one person's agony and another. He knew which one was deeper set, and he had favorite details. Apart from the physical pleasure, of course. There was a furnace of a bloated, ever fanned ego inside the Tarran monster. And having a noted professor two-hand his cock in his own office didn't hurt it.

There was this vacancy in the man below him, as the man considered his new lot in life. Clyde alternated between the contemplating face in reality, and its depiction on the small screen. He owned Marco now. Clyde smiled almost quaintly at that, which, on the carved, shadowed face, may look just as menacing as a snarl. He huffed with pleasure when the implications of his fate set in Marco's heart, and it made him give Clyde an even better handjob. "That's right." he muttered smugly, knowing prof. Hessel's thoughts. Every sexual act showed personality, and Marco didn't know to hide his, even though Clyde was sure Marco didn't want to give out more than he already had.

But that anger was chased away when Clyde took hold of his mouth and moved him to look up at him. Those frightened eyes in the soft face with those soft hands still around the hard cock was a perfect image. Clyde let it sink in and then he let go. He was absolutely certain Marco would be pliable now. Not like he was some thug Clyde had to beat into submission. No. Marco would be a good little cocksleeve from today on. He'd already submitted so much. There was no spine in him. Clyde stood still while Marco got closer to his cock. He thought about all the times Marco had been perfectly put together, dressed and dignified, up front in the lecture hall. And now this.

"Such bitch noises." he commented when the whimpers hit the head of his cock. And then Clyde swallowed when the older man's mouth finally took the bulb of his dick. "Ungh. Good little slut." he rewarded and breathed slowly as the lips and tongue got comfortable. "How does it taste?" he asked after having seen Marco's reaction to his precum. Marco would have to get used to it soon enough. He ran his hand roughly through Marco's hair. "Use your fucking hands. And take it deeper. This isn't a taste test. This is your fucking supper. Worship!" he was very amused with himself. "And don't forget the balls. If you don't convince me you're worth my time, then I'll get rid of you by putting these images up."

He shook the phone as though Marco wouldn't already get it. "And make sure you look happy doing it for the camera." Clyde made sure to tilt his head to see if the limp dick was still flaccid.

 

[TiedForAll]

"Such bitch noises."
Marco’s face burned red with shame, he wanted to react and fight, but couldn’t. He just couldn’t do anything but obey. Bitch was not a word he had ever associated with himself, but the contempt that Tarran added to bitch when he said that word…

"Use your fucking hands. And take it deeper. This isn't a taste test. This is your fucking supper. Worship!"
Marco made faint gagging noises as pushed himself forward, now taking almost half of Tarran’s cock in mouth. One of his hands gripped round the base of Tarran’s cock and started stroking it as best as he could. There wasn’t that much room between his face and the base of his cock, but he stroked anyway. His eyes watered as he sucked away, lips sealed around the shaft, tongue rubbing against it, his head bobbing back and forth praying that this would end, but dreading what that end would entail.

"And don't forget the balls. If you don't convince me you're worth my time, then I'll get rid of you by putting these images up."
Marco shook his head as best as he could, mewing pleading noises, his eyes wide with fear. Immediately his other hand began fondling Tarran’s balls, rapidly followed by more gagging noises as Marco forced himself to take another inch of the man’s cock into his mouth, the head now reaching the back of his mouth

"And make sure you look happy doing it for the camera."
Marco gave a thumbs up with both hands with Tarran’s cock half buried in his mouth before his hands set to their work. To say that Marco was flaccid was an understatement, his cock was a shrivelled and flat as his ego.

 

[Verse]

The man didn't even disassociate well. Everything Clyde said stuck. It was almost too easy. But that almost meant prof. Hessels might have a talent for this. It hadn't taken much to make him a cocksucking wimp. The cock inside Marco's mouth twitched when Marco started gagging. That was another level. Clyde hummed with some satisfaction to feel the noises vibrate his cock, and for the accompanying motions inside Marco's mouth. He was actually working rather hard, down there, and it showed on the clip. However you cut it, this wasn't the worst blowjob he'd had, even if he had to walk this fucking guy through it, basically.

Marco's anxiety showed, but the troubled, blushing face looked pretty good around a big cock. Obedient now, the hand worked well on the unattended stretch of cock. Clyde sighed with delight when another set of hands entered the menu. And then he laughed quietly for the camera to catch when Marco renewed his efforts to choke on the cock. But he fucking lost it when Marco posed for the camera like that. That must have been a big chunk of his dignity right there. Closer to breaking.

"That's hilarious. What a dumb whore." he said and let the camera get all of it, before a little pan to the side to show future viewers the small, shrunken cock. "Wow. It fucking fell off." Clyde muttered. "Tell us how much you love cock, mr. Hessels." he almost shouted, excited now. He'd of course let the grown man try to get the words out with his mouth full of meat before he gave him a fighting chance. "Cockslap yourself." it'd be distracting, but at least Marco would be able to talk.

"And then back in it goes!" he'd say, and when he was obeyed, his hand not holding the phone would finally grab the professor's hair and shove his face onto the waiting dick, skewering his throat and popping it so the fat meat would plunge deep into him. The youth wouldn't stop cramming until Marco's nose was nestled in his pubes. He'd let Marco slide back half way before forcing him forward again, eventually starting a neck-breaking pace of skullfucking.

 

[TiedForAll]

Bitch…
Dumb Whore…
The words bounced around inside Marco’s head, he had been dumb that was for sure, but there was no time for remorse, just self pity. The impotent anger he felt earlier was there, and growing more impotent as frame after frame of video was captured, each act of humiliation trying to stop a previous act being revealed and so on. When you’re in a hole, stop digging they say, but Marco had no choice but to dig away. His only hope was that Tarran would get bored and leave him alone, hopefully even delete the material. But even if he did Marco would never know for sure, Tarran would always have some control over him.

His thoughts were broken by a comment about something falling off, Marco had no idea what, but Tarran found it amusing. And then came another command…
“”Eyy lvvv cccck.” Marco mumbled around Tarran’s cock, one hand still working the exposed shaft while the other fondled his balls “Eyyy luuuv sssskng cccck,” He wanted to scream and cry, to bite down…”
“Cockslap yourself “
Marco died even more. He removed Tarran’s cock from his mouth, slick with saliva, and slapped it against his cheeks, rubbing the tip over his face.
“I, I love cocks, big, hard cocks,” he stammered “I, I love sucking cocks.”
"And then back in it goes!"

“!” Marco was taken off-guard as Tarran grabbed his head and rammed his cock in as deep and hard as he could. Now the choking sounds were for real. It was when the facefucking began in earnest that Marco finally started to truly struggle and resist, pushing back against Tarran’s thighs and he found himself unable to breath, each deep thrust brought him to the point of choking, he wanted to be sick, he found himself swallowing as his throat tried to clear the obstruction. He simply wanted to breathe and pushed back as hard as he could, his body in fight or flight mode.

 

[Verse]

There was a very vivid dread and onset of somber depression flashing on Marco's face every now and then, but it was interrupted by the ballistic nature of their activity. Yes, there was life injected enough into the little simp that it overrode the lowest lulls of the horror. Clyde had seen it before. Usually the budding signs of such things took much longer to conjure. It meant the professor had a talent for this. It was clearly being proven by the growing video. He of course had to push it further, and Marco responded in kind, as was his habit. Clyde Tarran rolled his eyes with pleasure as the vibrations of Marco's voice around his cock were sudden and delightful.

He looked down with a darkened spirit, overwhelmingly possessive toward the little, kneeling man under him - by many measures his senior but still just a little toy to him now. He looked stupid, with his student's cock in his mouth, but looking stupid looked right on the formerly so dignified lecturer. He was really learning his place now, and Clyde wanted to compound the orders to get the little whore into a state of mind of obedience. He gasped when Marco slapped himself with the cock, it looked good and devastatingly slutty on the phone. But the way Marco had the head rub his face was something Marco had thought of and done himself. It was in the little things that Marco's pathetic nature would be revealed. The things he did himself.

The reward was violent.

Marco was introduced to the more forceful part of this. Clyde only needed one hand to control the panicking teacher, filled up with cock and fright as he was being fucked in his esophagus. "Oh, are you going to try to get away now? Isn't it a little late?" he asked and let a healthy, foamy glob of spit roll from his lower lip to land on the base of his cock while it was revealed, and then made sure to slide Marco's face over it. Considering Marco was now struggling for his very air, the small insult wouldn't be much, it would add to the aesthetic humiliation.

"What, bitch?" he asked as he kept Marco's face there, crammed up against his pelvis which meant he was taking the fat cock deeper into his throat and chest. Clyde kept him there to feel him swallow and try to breathe around him. "You gonna die sucking cock?" he asked until Marco trembled too much. Eventually he did slide his fingers out of Marco's hair to let the man pull off to breathe properly.

"Get up on your desk." he said while Marco was still coughing. "Spread your legs like the whore you are." And with any sign of protest, a backhand could come from above and relieve Marco of that misconception. "Show me that little asshole of yours."

 

[TiedForAll]

Marco was terrified, he understood that Tarran was a dangerous man, but only when he was all but choked on the man’s cock did he realise just how dangerous. He could barely breathe with the cock at the back of his throat, just suck air in through his nostrils, but when his head was pressed into the man’s pubes Marco could hear the blood singing in his ears as there was nothing but skin and cock to try to suck air through. The man had everything he needed to end Marco’s career, but now he was going to end his life?

Then he was slumped on his knees, sucking up air for all he was worth, he was shaking, almost sobbing from what he had just endured. In truth he was in shock, his skin was pale and clammy, covered in a thin sheen of sweat which as it cooled turned caused goosebumps to form over his body. “S, sir, sorry sir.” he stammered “I, I’ve never do, done that before.” he tried to explain “I’ I can, I’ll do better next time sir.” he was under no illusion that Tarran was done with his mouth, he knew just how obsessed young men were with getting blowjobs. His only hope was that their next to useless security would decide to do a round and save him. His career was at an end, he just didn’t want to die.

"Get up on your desk. Spread your legs like the whore you are. Show me that little asshole of yours."
“S, sir? P, pleas…”
WHAM!
Marco was knocked to the floor, stars floated in front of his vision for a few seconds as the world swam in and out of focus. He was barely registering what was happening before another blow landed to get him moving.
“L, like a bitch, a whore sir, yes sir.” his voice shook as much as his body, he’d never experienced violence like this and he had nothing to offer against it.
Marco crawled up on his desk, knocking papers, pens and other office bits onto the floor. On all fours, knees spread as wide as the desk would allow. Rested head on desk reached round and with shaking hands pulled his ass cheeks wide apart. He scrunched up his eyes as he felt the cool air run over his anus.
“M,m,m, my asshole sir.”

 

[Verse]

Clyde could feel that fear in how the muscles of Marco's neck tried to spasm him free from the grip. There was a tickle from Marco's nostrils onto his pubes that was quite intimate and humid. Clyde toyed with the idea of ending the older man right there. It would certainly make for a rush that'd accompany the orgasm. But despite Clyde's issue with his own impulses, he did know how to save a bit now so that he could enjoy it for longer. After all, Marco hadn't even begun to reach the depravity and humiliation that Clyde had in store for him. So, for now, enjoying the fact that Marco would have let Clyde kill him, choke him out on his cock, would have to be enough. But it was pretty sweet to let the idiot gasp, and have Clyde's cock suddenly swing free after the cramping, jerking pleasure of recently virgin throat.

Marco was a glossy thing on the floor, embodying everything that aggrandized Clyde, who towered over him. He stood there, filming the pathetic male, explaining just why he wasn't a better cocksucker. Clyde nodded in chorus. "A whore doesn't have excuses. She's paid or she's dead." he explained. It was a bit of an exaggeration, since he dealt in that business some, but it should get the point across to the shard of a human who'd planted itself so low. It was a delight to get to beat him down. Marco was reliable for that, at least. And he got hit pretty well on camera, didn't he? A natural bitch. And getting to enact violence spurred more of it inside Clyde. Perhaps the professor picked up on that, because he was suddenly very quick to oblige.

He waited quietly as Marco made another mess of the desk and floor, littering with expensive, snobby supplies. It was quite unbecoming to see a grown man scurry to eventually show off his asshole, and bend his cheeks the other way, like the decimal hole was a fucking shield. Clyde laughed and moved the phone to get a real close-up on the asshole. And then his free hand smacked one of the cheeks.

"And what does you asshole want?" he asked to see if Marco was getting the hint. And while he waited for Marco to either succeed or fail in replying, he backed up to the wall, where the diploma of Marco Hessels's degree hung, framed. A quick fist to it would release it from the glass, and Clyde picked it up before it could sail all the way to the floor and the stationary strewn about there. He reached to show off the paper to Marco, infront of his lowered face. "What's this, Marco?" he asked before rumpling it up.