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Several pairs of sneakered feet squeaked across the polished wood of the gym floor. The rubbery boing of dodge-balls added to the noise, whooshing through the air when hurled via a certain Machop's arms. The kid, dressed in a simple gym-outfit of a white tee and shorts, darted to the side, dodging a ball returning, narrowly avoiding a hit to the gut. The Zangoose behind him, however, was not as lucky.

"Bfffh!" The air rushing from his belly and lungs made a strange noise and the normal-type critter fell to his knees. Who the hell threw that? Through watery eyes, the boy looked up, catching the tail end of a Glaceon's fist-pump to the air.

"Zhan, you're out! Get to the sidelines," gruffly snarled the gym instructor, a wide-shouldered Ursaring. Catching his breath, the Zangoose managed to crawl himself off the court, clutching his gut. He felt as if he was going to throw up, but managed to hold it back. With his outing, only the Machop remained left on his team, and that was against three others!

A Quilava passed the ball to the Glaceon, who took aim once more. Rearing his arm back, the ice-type hurled that dodge-ball with a seemingly impossible speed. It rocketed through the air like a bullet, with just enough spin to curve towards the lone Machop. Boing. It bounced off of a second ball, held in the fighting-type's hand. Hardly a moment passed between that and when the Machop threw his shield. If the Glaceon's throw had been a bullet, this dodge-ball would have been a laser, seeming to instantly transmit itself accurately against the ice-type's chest, ricocheting off and smacking the Quilava on his turned back.

"Cecil, Quinley! You're out!" Dizzily, the Glaceon took a few steps to the sidelines, falling to a knee before he could make it completely. His other compatriot grasped hold of the ice-type under his shoulder, hefting him up and dragging him off the field fully, before turning around to watch the culmination of that match.

Just two Pokémon remained on the field now, both fighting types. A Mienfoo and the Machop stared each other down from across the court. Each held a rubber dodge-ball in hand, griping them strong enough to cause their shape to deform. The Machop threw first, rearing his arm back and catapulting the ball forward and a breakneck speed. It swung wide, swishing out far to the left, and the Mienfoo smirked. The cream and red-colored male hurled his own ball towards the Machop almost a second after, a direct shot.

To the spectators the battle seemed to last only a split second, but in the adrenaline filled minds of the two competitors time stood still. Though the Mienfoo's throw was directed towards his center, the grey-blue fighting type threw himself backwards; the red comet of a dodge-ball hurtling just an inch over his stomach as he bent back.

TWONG! The fifth-generation Pokémon bounced to the side, clutching his shoulder. That Machop's throw had such spin to it that it had curved around and hit the unsuspecting Mienfoo! As if the dramatic tension wasn't enough, the lumbering gym teacher blew into his whistle, signifying the end of gym.

"Hit the lockers, boys! You've got five minutes to change!" snarled the Ursaring, supervising the emptying of that gym. A few students had taken it upon themselves to clean up the dodge-balls from the corners of that gym floor, returning them to the ball-bin. "Hurry it up!" the bear grunted coarsely at the do-gooders, who then quickly scampered into the locker room with haste. It seemed as if there was a bit of commotion going on inside it, too.

"That's a win for me, Cecil," a chubby Zangoose said just minutes before, sparking the argument between himself and the Glaceon.

"A win? I knocked you right in that fat gut of yours--if anything it was a win for me!" replied the Glaceon, flaring his nostrils with a huff.

"Psh, and then you were taken out a few seconds later. And then my team won thanks to Markus!"

"Doesn't work like that, dummy. Marcus did all the work, you only managed to last that long because you were hiding behind him like a little baby. Which makes sense, since you haven't even lost your baby-fat," Cecil said, stepping forward and pinching the Zangoose on his chubby side, squeezing that squishy bit of fatty flesh.

Zhan pushed that pinching hand away from himself with a displeased grunt. "Yeah, well, I bet you're still locked up 'cause of Principal Motzer's punishment!" said the normal-type, pushing himself forward and grasping hold of the stretchy waistband of Cecil's athletic-shorts. Giving a single yank, he pulled them down around the ice-type's knees, exposing the blue-colored Pokémon's tight, white briefs.

Just as he was pantsed, their Ursaring instructor returned from the gym, a glare on his face. "What's all this hooting about, boys?!" he growled, looking right at caught-in-the-act Zangoose. "Ya think you can cause mischief just 'cause we're not in the gym? I'm still in charge 'til that bell rings, and you'll be visitin' the principal right when it does!"

The Zangoose gulped. Principal Motzer was notorious for his cruel punishments--and a visit with Coach Kleine would undoubtedly be worse! He tried to stutter out a response, words failing as his tongue fell numb and heavy in his mouth. A moment later he realized his hands were still on Cecil's waistband, still gripping despite the Glaceon's pushing on his head to get away, and he released his grip, causing the ice-type to stumble and fall onto his rear.

Cecil glanced over to the Ursaring, making certain the coach wasn't looking before sticking his tongue out at Zhan, pulling his shorts fully off and replacing them with pants. Zipping them up and buttoning them, he leaned over bringing his lips to the now sitting Zangoose's ear.

"You're so screwed," he taunted, a wide smirk on his face. Zhan slumped further forward, placing his face in his hands. He gave a low groan, stomach doing flips as his nervousness grew. The normal-typed critter couldn't even find the energy to switch back into his uniform, staying in the stretchy shorts and simple white-tee he had sweated in through the fifty minute class-period.

He gave a low groan of displeasure, it timing almost in tandem with the shrill buzz signifying the end of class, and beginning of passing time. Zhan swallowed nervously, biting his lower lip. As uniform-dressed students left the locker-room, the Zangoose felt a flutter in his heart and stoop up, hoping to slip out before the Ursaring could catch him.

"Don't kid yourself, Zhan. You ain't going anywhere but the principal's office with me," said an Ursaring, his rough hand grasping the mongoose-like's shoulder and yanked him backwards. "I'm sure he'll have a nice punishment for little pantsing perverts like yourself," grunted the bear. His grip moved to the back of the Zangoose's collar, giving the tee a short yank before dragging him out of the locker-room.

Zhan wasn't quite the most cooperative student. He whined and sniffled as he was pulled backwards, tennis shoes dragging along the locker-room floor. Despite the Zangoose's heavysettedness, the Ursaring had no issue dragging him along, however, and they made their way through the halls at a slow pace.

Students packed in on all sides, blank faces that seemed to only create a formless crowd rather than anyone who Zhan could call out for help to. Not that it mattered--no sane person would try to 'rescue' the Zangoose from his captor. Not only did that Ursaring have the advantage of height (at a towering near-seven feet) but he also had a nasty streak and would undoubtedly drag whatever Pokémon who braved the danger into their own punishment in his office later.

"Here we are boy," Mister Kleine grunted, pushing Zhan forward towards the principal's office doors. They were tall, windowed with frosted, opaque glass. If one would look very carefully through them, they could see the undetailed shape of the well-dressed Arcanine, working at his desk calmly with pen in hand.

Side-hand to that door sat Miss Evans, the principal's secretary. She gave a cursory glance up past her beak, then nodded towards the Ursaring coach, as if to non-verbally say he was allowed to enter. The bear gave a single knock onto that door, placing his free hand on the handle after a second's pause and entered the principal's office, pushing Zhan into it. The boy stumbled, nearly falling on his face before catching his balance precariously.

"Ah, Darius, what brings you here? And you've brought a friend, I see," greeted the Arcanine, looking up from his desk. He set aside the papers he was signing, moving to clasp his hands together and give a friendly smile towards the nervous-looking Zangoose, who by all means had a reason to look that way.

"This 'ere boy thought it'd be funny to yank down someone else's pants. I'd punish him m'self, but you didn't want me to do that no more." The Ursaring gave another push to Zhan's shoulder, forcing the critter to step forward. "Whatcha got to say for yourself, huh?"

"Uh, uhm..." the Zangoose stumbled over his words, not expecting to be put on the spot so suddenly. His knees felt weak, shaking to support his chubby upper body before looking at the principal's chest, unable to make eye contact. "I-I'm sorry that I pantsed Cecil... please don't punish me! It was just a joke!"

The Arcanine tapped his finger on that broad desk, thinking to himself. What would be an appropriate punishment for the boy? Have him pantsed in return? Of course, that kind of ironic punishment would never be enough, and would undoubtedly lead towards other things as well. Maybe a pantsing and a paddling would do it, though...

"Ahem, Darius?" he began, looking up at the Ursaring. "What kind of punishment would you expect for this kind of offense?"

That Ursaring scratched under his chin with a clawed hand, giving a low growl as he thought. The bear undoubtedly had a sadistic streak in him--there was a rumor going around that he made a group of third-graders run around the gym fifty times because they were late to class. And then there was that rumor of him making a poor little Umbreon-boy cry, just because he couldn't climb a rope to the top of the ceiling.

"Eye for an eye--if he can't handle being pantsed then he shouldn't 'ave done it in the first place," the gym instructor replied.

"Indeed, but what of the embarrassment Cecil had, since it was in front of all of his classmates? We can't just pants him in front of the school, after all."

"We can substitute somethin' else in, then." Darius gave a pointed look at the Arcanine. They seemed to wordlessly exchange something, and once eye-contact was broken the Ursaring turned, locking the door to the Arcanine's office.

Zhan watched confusedly as the bear did such a thing, and as the Arcanine muttered something into the intercom to the secretary right outside. Not a moment after this was done, he was grabbed by the shoulder and pushed into the center of the room.

"W-wait! I don't wanna be pantsed!" he whined, fighting against coach's strong grip. It did little to free himself, the older male's hold was just too strong to pull away from. His outcry fell upon deaf ears, as the Ursaring pulled the 'goose's arms behind his back, grasping them together at Zhan's wrists. The principal raised himself from behind that desk, leaving his suit's coat down upon his chair. Zhan squirmed further as the adult stepped around his desk, coming up towards the Zangoose and crouching down, hooking a finger on the boy's waistband.

"Well, think how Cecil felt when you pantsed him. I'm sure he didn't want to be pantsed either, but you did it anyway, now didn't you?" said the Arcanine, looking directly at the boy's eyes, giving a penetrating stare. Zhan looked away pathetically, his lower lip protruding outwards in a pout.

He thought for a brief moment, trying to come up with another excuse. As he opened his mouth once again to protest, that hooked finger tugged down on the chubby normal-type's shorts, stretching the elastic waistband of them and pulling them around Zhan's ankles, leaving the critter's groin covered in nothing but a pair of skivvies.

"Aah!"

The Zangoose tried to kick his pants up, only to lose his balance and fall forwards, held from falling upon his face by the Ursaring's grip behind him. His tangled feet struggled to plant themselves on the ground once more, only to fail completely, ending in his kneeling.

"Is this enough, m-mister Motzer?" the embarrassed critter asked. Beneath that white fur flushed a red face, nearly as bright as the zigging stripe over his eye. His eyes looked watery, as if he was about to cry, though he managed to sniffle back the tears for the time being.

Andrew looked towards the bear, cocking an eyebrow. The Ursaring gave a sadistic shake of his head in response.

"Oh, I think Mister Kleine wants to give you a bit of punishment too--after all he's the one who saw your actions and knows just exactly what you deserve as punishment," rumbled that Arcanine, now coming to a stand in front of the kneeling Zangoose, leaning backwards onto his desk. His thickly furred tail nudged aside a small desk ornament, moving it near the center. "Darius."

The grip upon Zhan's wrists seemed to loosen for a moment, though it was merely due to the Ursaring switching to his non-dominant hand. The other came to grip the Zangoose's underwear by its waistband, tugging it upwards and lifting the critter up for a moment before releasing it with a snap. It thwapped the pudgy normal-type right on his plump backside, leaving a small pinkish welt beneath that fur as a mark. The student gave a small cry of discomfort, his feet once more making a motion to stand, only to slip uselessly.

"A lil troublemaker like yerself ought to be punished nice 'n hard so ya don't go makin' trouble again," he grunted. Though the Zangoose couldn't see behind himself, the Arcanine had a front-desk seat of the bear dropping down his trousers. The only hint that Zhan would have was the "zzz" of the Ursaring's zipper, and the quiet rustle of cloth as it fell to the floor. Between the normal-type's sniffing and soft whimpers, the boy hardly noticed a thing until the bear's strong handgripped his rear-end, giving the chubby cheek a firm squeeze, hard enough to pull together a bunch of that underwear fabric.

"Wait! What are you gonna--" the Zangoose's words were cut off by the removal of his underwear, those boxer-shorts pulled down all the way to his upper-calves, resting just above those athletic shorts. He felt vulnerable, with his rear exposed bare to the air, and bent forward against his chest, trying to make himself smaller. "Please don't, mister Kleine! I'm sorry for pantsing Cecil!" he cried out. The boy wasn't exactly certain what the coach behind him had in mind, but he knew a punishment would never be enjoyable.

"Hm, think he'll be a squeaker, Darius? Perhaps I should gag his mouth so he doesn't cause trouble for the other learning students..."

"Go right 'head, boss. If ya think it's necessary, that is."

"Oh, it's necessary alright." Andrew gained a queer grin on his face. His canine teeth bared themselves with it, and upper-lips pulled to the corners of his mouth just a bit. One hand swiftly undid his belt and slacks, popping the button off to the side and tugging the zipper down to its base. He had on a pair of black briefs, looking rather stuffed with both his fur and his malehood, the outline of that shaft straining against fabric, looking rather well-defined.

Zhan was a bit mischievous, but he had never been sent to the principal's office over it before. All of his (mostly) harmless pranks usually ended up with some after-class detention, cleaning up their mess or with some after-school lines on a chalk-board. These minor punishments never warranted the specific type of punishment doled out by the Arcanine, and so the Zangoose had merely heard of rumors of what it consisted of--though most of the "victims" were too flustered at the thought of it to give any meaningful testimony. The result: hearsay upon hearsay of what the fire-dog made misbehaving students do--from concoting and singing a punishment song and writing painfully long essays, to massaging the Arcanine's feet, some more true than others.

Of course, as the fire-dog slipped out of his slacks, leaving his muscular legs bare, the Zangoose could see that almost none of those punishments he had heard of were correct. And he didn't even think he could say what the real one was. It was strange to watch the principal strip in front of him, even as the fire-type did it so casually and without thought. Zhan felt his eyes lock onto the Arcanine's upper-thighs, not quite having the guts to stare directly upon the principal's groin. From the edges of his peripheral vision, the pudgy student could see mister Motzer's hands lift up to his underwear's waistband and hook it just like he had done to his pants, before pulling it downwards.

Something hot, wet and slick slapped underneath his tail suddenly, driving away any of those strange thoughts the Zangoose was having. He attempted to look backwards, failing due to a lack of flexibility. Whatever it was, it was tube-shaped and warm. It seemed to be throbbing just slightly, and was covered in a thick, but slippery liquid-like substance. It almost had the consistency of honey, although it wasn't sticky in the slightest. So distracted by the object rubbing between his cheeks, the normal-type missed that principal kneeling down in front until Andrew grasped hold of Zhan's cheeks, squeezing them open and slipped a similarly shaped object into the boy's mouth.

Oh. That's what that was. The Arcanine's phallic appendage pressed further into the student's mouth, spreading it wide around that fat member. There was a certain, indescribable taste to it, some sort of mixture between cinnamon and some other earthy flavorings. It had a salty taste too, probably from the principal's sweat. A few muffled cries of protest escaped Zhan's lips, snuffed out by that thick shaft's girth pinning down the pudgy normal-type's tongue and coating it with a thin, slick substance. He gagged on that slow-drooling slime, not willing to swallow it as the fluid poured free from his slack lips and dribbled down his chin messily. Sure, the principal's length in his mouth was distracting, but the Ursaring's motions behind him made him more than a little bit nervous.

Darius gave a sharp smirk, grasping hold of the Zangoose's tail with those clasped paws. He rather enjoyed the sight of his fat, brown prick sandwiched between a chubby pair of white-furred cheeks, his shaft smeared in a slick lubricant. That hefty cockhead nestled itself perfectly against Zhan's pucker, spluttering out some of its own precum in addition to the lube slathered upon his shaft. His member was not quite as hot as the Arcanine's own, but the bare, intimate closeness it held against the young student's backside amplified that cockheat.

The boy was not quite as enthusiastic as the two adults in the room. He tried to pull his head backwards from the principal's rod, only serving to sink further down as he failed and the Arcanine closed up the distance. His sneakered feet pushed against the carpeted floor uselessly, unable to get the proper leverage for him to push away, and his constant sliding against the ground caused the shoes to slip off of his feet, leaving only a pair of socks upon them, the Zangoose's shorts and underwear right above his ankles. The boy's chubby thighs squeezed together, smushing between them the Pokéboy's flaccid member, colored white like the rest of his fur, with a small zigzag of red tracing up along its underside.

"Mmff... ghlkkh..." muttered out he, unable to make any meaningful words. He protested this treatment, eyes starting to water as his jaw was spread even wider from the Arcanine's entry, though he could do nothing to stop it. As that thick shaft slid further along his tongue, nudging almost to the back of his throat, Zhan was forced to inhale through his nostrils, taking in the principal's musk despite his best efforts not to. There was a puzzling effect due to it, causing a shivering shudder down from the tip of his ears to those sock-covered toes, which curled as that bizarre sensation reached them.

The fire-dog's natural musk must have had some sort of soothing element to the student, as his lips slackened and tongue grew limp, simply accepting the intruder in his mouth. Drool began to drip from his lips, wetting the shaft in his mouth further as the Zangoose's muzzle was forced open and wider with each slow thrust from the principal. His throat held no defense against the adult, who penetrated down it and created a short bulge for his piece that throbbed and twitched with each beat of the Arcanine's heart.

Zhan gagged, that motion his throat made around the principal's member like that of a milking squeeze. It shot a jet of hot pre down the boy's throat, coating that student's esophagus in a slick, slimy substance with each 'glrk' and 'hkkh'. It was growing harder to breathe through his nose, the Zangoose found, and squeezing his bleary eyes shut, he swallowed his pride and swallowed that accumulating saliva, mixed along with the Arcanine's pre-fluids. The juices came to rest in the pit of his stomach; the Zangoose felt uncomfortable with them there, but at least he could breathe.

His hands were beginning to hurt, shoulders too. They were the only things keeping him from falling face-first on the floor--with the exception of the principal's fat shaft acting like a little pillar of support. Opening his mouth further, the Zangoose attempted to whine out in protest, unable to do much more beyond gasping and swallowing that shaft even more.

Behind, the Ursaring gave his beefy length a squeeze and stroke. It had such heft to it that it was difficult for the male to get fully hard, and the spongy flesh of his shaft throbbed between Zhan's cheeks. As the critter gave another choking gasp and swallow to the principal's length, Darius pressed his cockhead a bit firmer against that tailhole, pushing the thick, fat head of his beardick into that ring, spreading and stretching it wide.

"Ffhh!" the student puffed out, his inability to scream ending up in a long, loud exhale out through his nostrils and against the Arcanine's groin. That thick fluff just barely ruffled in the breeze, parting slightly, but as the Zangoose ran out of air in his lungs the fur returned to its original position, though this time an inch closer to the student's muzzle.

The boy's bleary eyes spilled over, tears falling from them and running down his cheeks as he was penetrated, spread widely around that thick, oiled shaft. That Ursaring's strong hand gripped one of the Zangoose's chubby buttcheeks, squeezing it hard and spreading it to the side, watching his fat dick stuff itself slow and deeply into the younger Pokémon's backside. It pushed itself in quite a surprising amount for Zhan's first-time, so the coach assumed. It very much was, too, though the Zangoose was stretchy enough for that large member to push far enough that the large bear's groin bumped up against the troublemaking normal-type's backside.

Finally, the Ursaring released his grip on the Zangoose's wrists and tail, no longer needing to keep them still as he had himself stuffed balls-deep into the boy, burying that thick, light-brown colored rod in the critter's tight rump. With the freedom of his hands, Zhan immediately pressed them onto the ground, trying to push himself far enough up to pull off that Arcanine's saliva-slickened rod.

He could almost manage it, too. Pulling his head and tilting it backwards, the Zangoose managed to withdraw that length until only its head remained in his lips, still splurting that constant thin line of precum across his tongue. A hand fell onto his head, fingers curling into his white fur and gripped it taut, pulling even further back as the Arcanine withdrew his member with a short step backwards.

With a gagging cough, the Zangoose gave a quiet cry of pain, hardly able to make a sound now that his throat and jaws were free, the slimy coating down his throat seeming to keep it numb and tingling, wet and protestless. Zhan tried to swallow once more, finding the fluids clinging to his throat, unable to even clear it on his own. His chin was wet with drool, and as his eyes refocused in front of his nose, he could see the principal's large member, sheened to a shiny reflectiveness by the student's drool. It twitched just an inch away from his lips, a low line of precum dripping from its tip, dropping onto the carpeted floor below, absorbed into the fabric. The Arcanine wasn't looking at his student, but rather at the other adult in the room, saying something to him that the boy couldn't quite hear.

The Ursaring's hand on the back-collar of his shirt, however, he could feel, and felt himself pulled backwards and up, coming to a stand finally as the bear thrust his hips forward enough to push the student up onto his socked feet, ankles still bounded by the shorts and underwear. A limp, white prick hung between his thighs, pointing down at the ground with a small bit of slick, sticky fluid dribbling from its tip. The Zangoose wasn't enjoying himself much at all, but the Ursaring's shaft pressing firmly against his prostate and smushing other glands caused the student's production of that bit of precum, spilling slowly out the tip of his prick. At very least the boy wasn't subjected to the embarrassment of becoming erect--he had a gut feeling that both adults would tease him for it.

With the tugging of his shirt came a tightness around his chest. The Zangoose's chubby curves were shown through that white fabric, cupping around his male breasts. That at least, was a little embarrassing for the student, though not as much as being forced to bounce up on the Ursaring's fat dick while his hole stretched and loosened from just the motion of the bear's moving hips. A strong arm slid underneath the Zangoose's shoulder, wrapping around the boy's chest and pulling him even further backwards, this time lifting the poor critter off the floor as he was leaned up against the bear's stomach and held there off-balanced.

A wet mixture of precum and lubricant dripped own from the Zangoose's stretched ring, oozing out of it slowly as the Ursaring thrust himself up into that hole and pulled down out of it slowly, repeating the motion again with a squeeze to the student's chest. Zhan gave another groan of discomfort, his voice starting to come back as his jaw and throat regained their strength and fought off the after-effects of the Arcanine's precum.

He couldn't do much more than just lie back limply as the coach had his way with him, feeling even more exposed as the principal eyed him with hungry eyes. It was made worse as the bear scooped his other hand beneath the Zangoose's thigh, lifting it up and exposing the boy's puffy taint, displaying that pink stretched ring as that tan shaft stuffed deep into it. The boy's shorts and underwear fell to one ankle. Zhan's chest rose and fell with each breath he took, breathing hard to mitigate the strange winding in his lower half. It felt as if some pressure was building, growing tighter and tighter with no end in sight.

Another hand slipped beneath the Zangoose's opposite thigh, lifting it up, his shorts and underwear falling from the student's last ankle, leaving him completely bare around his bottom, with exception to those socks. Zhan wasn't able to hold himself up any more, finding himself constantly sliding down to the base of the bear's shaft, his ring twitching and pulsing around the thick rod spreading him open. He only remained at that hilt for a brief moment, before coach Kleine gave a quick upward thrust, rocking his hips enough to lift the Zangoose a few inches upwards along his member, where the student would then fall back down.

The constant motion distracted Zhan; his eyes closed and his mouth slowly came to a shut, biting his lower lip as a sudden exhaling groan of mixed pleasure and pain escaped his lips. Something warm pressed underneath his ballsack, and the boy finally re-opened his eyes, finding the Arcanine's clothed chest just a foot away from his face. The fire-dog had a buttoned dress-shirt, which was stretched a bit by the thickness of his fur. Small tufts of his mane and chest-fur poked freely from the portions between buttons. Zhan's gaze trailed down, coming to the bottom hem of that shirt and flushing bright red as he looked over his belly.

Mister Motzer had pushed his hips forward, nudging the tip of his member beneath the Zangoose's pouch. It was still wet with that mixture of precum and saliva, some of those slimy-slippery fluids rubbing off upon the Zangoose's taint as that prick moved further down, towards the Ursaring's penetrating member. Zhan could feel both at his rear, now, the bear's fat dick stuffed more than a few inches inside himself, and the principal's head, poking at that pink bud like the gym instructor's length had done just a little while ago--only this time there was already a thing stretching it nice and widely open.

"Gghhaaa... whh... waaiiittt..." the Zangoose gasped out through his sore throat. He still couldn't speak worth a damn, and that tongue in his mouth seemed to take up its entire space. That pudgy normal-type could only give a loud inhale through his nose, sniffling as that wet, slippery rod gradually began to drill its way against that entrance. There's no way it could fit--no possible way, thought the Zangoose, gritting his teeth together and exhaling hard out of his nose, hardly able to take that stretching feeling in his backside when paired up with the winding of his lower front groin.

Zhan's squeezed-shut eyes popped open as he felt that other length enter him, spreading his hole even wider than he thought it could. It hurt like hell, and the sensation in his stomach dwindled away, though it still had a small presence. Some more tears flowed down the Zangoose's cheeks, his sniffling growing louder and more constant as the two adults took turns thrusting into his backside, each one replacing the other's length as it slid out, though both heads remained sealed behind that no-longer puckered ring.

Both the Ursaring and Arcanine drooled copious amounts of precum. Even if the Zangoose wasn't aware of the direct cause, he was thankful that their lengths were so slick--anything drier would have been a more drastic punishment than what was called for. Soon the principal and coach fell into a steady rhythm, one grunting as the other sighed out, or vice-versa; each press inwards and out giving a spark of pleasure caused by their rubbing frenulum.

As that rhythm made itself more obvious, the student pinned between the adults found himself starting to relax a bit, that soreness from the initial penetration of that second length beginning to subside, and the strange winding sensation upon his frontal groin beginning to curve up again. Both males were long and thick enough to push and grind the Zangoose's under-developed prostate, and, despite the gland's immaturity, there was enough nerves within it to begin building up Zhan's first orgasm. How humiliating for it to come about whilst being punished by two lecherous adults, having their way with his chubby body without a single care.

Andrew's groin pressed against the underside of Zhan's own, nudging up those balls and bumping a fuzzy crotch against the critter's flaccid prick. A bit of moisture from the Zangoose's drooling precum matted down his fur, but as the fire-dog thrust upwards into his student, his front pressured that soft, small member, stimulating it just enough for it to twitch towards the sky and stand pointing straight up.

With the boy's face now bright-red beneath that white fur, the principal's punishment was complete. He gave a pointed look towards the Ursaring--hurry it up--and began to pound quicker and harder into that stretched hole, breathing under his breath. The experienced Arcanine had no issue holding his orgasm back--nor did he have an issue with speeding it up, either. The shared rhythm between him and the coach increased in tempo, until finally the bear finished himself off, stuffing his length deep into that Zangoose's backside and giving a growling roar as his thick load pumped upwards into the chubby boy's bottom.

Not even a moment after the Ursaring hilted himself and snarled with orgasm did the Arcanine follow suit. He pressed his hips up, snugging his shaft right nice and close with the bear's own, feeling it twitch and throb as it shot its load. Relaxing his clenched groin muscles, the principal orgasmed too inside that young student, squirting his hot, gooey load deep into the normal-type, flooding and intermixing with the coach's cum. Together their throbbing rods pushed and rubbed at Zhan's prostate, finally pushing the student over the edge and causing him to dry orgasm, his ring attempting to give rhythmatic squeezes about those intruding shafts, causing them to be milked even further as they were pressed together inside the Pokémon.

But, everything must come to an end, and having spent the better half of an hour punishing the Zangoose, the Arcanine had paperwork to attend to, and the Ursaring's free-period was nearing its end. Andrew withdrew himself first, tugging free and spilling a wet slop of seed to the floor below. As Darius removed himself too, another glop of cream came to stain the carpet white, followed by some more slow oozings from the student's abused and stretched bottom. He wouldn't be able to sit for the rest of the day, let alone the week with that "injury".

No longer held up by either adult, the Zangoose slumped to the floor, bringing his hands forward and wiping his cheeks dry of his tears. One paw reached back, rubbing his sore bottom, though it was wary of hitting any stretched and pained spots. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the pile of clothing that was his shorts and underwear, and inch-wormed his way over, somehow managing to put on both without standing. His butt hurt. A lot. It felt sticky, too.

"Darius, escort young Zhan to the nurse's office, please. The nurse will take care of him from there and--" he sniffed the air, "Take a shower, for heaven's sake. You teach gym and get sweaty. Don't punish the students any more than they already are," muttered he.

"Aye sir," the Ursaring gruffly replied, putting his own clothing on, looking at that wet, sticky spot on the floor. Once finished, he bent down, slipping his arm around the Zangoose and hefted the chubby boy up, carrying him one-handed, while the other grasped hold of the student's shoes.

Already the Arcanine had slipped back into his typical work-attire, once more with pen in hand and signing away at the papers on his desk. What an extremely busy day--but teaching was more than rewarding enough to make up for it.