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T hat wasn't how Peter wanted to spend his day, trapped in that stiff chair, bound to his desk by the invisible fetters Ahsoka's mere presence bound him with. As long as she shared the classroom with him, Peter couldn't leave. The best thing he could do was correct test papers and assignments to pass the time, but even that proved to be a futile endeavor, the scrawling of Ahsoka's pen a constant distraction. Tedious as his job was, Peter needed something to preoccupy his mind with, otherwise he would have strangled that mouthy, obnoxious bitch two hours ago.

She sat two desks across from him, legs dangling over the side of her chair, left crossed over the right, wiggling one of her paws back and forth, back and forth, the constant movement of her foot making Peter anxious as well. He tried to ignore it, but that barely noticeable yet extremely obnoxious movement always hovered at the edge of his vision, just like the pencil she held. She didn't actually work on her assignment; for a 13th grade senior, Ahsoka had the IQ coefficient of a monkey high on bananas and the temper of one, too!

Tolerating her inappropriate side position in her chair was one thing. Dealing with her doodling addiction wasn't a biggie either, so long as it kept her silent. The loud strokes of the pencil had been irritating at first, but he filtered that sound out by focusing on his own task.

What got to Peter—what really grinded his nerves—was her very attitude.

Ahsoka. Her name made Peter's stomach churn at the mere thought of it. She repelled him in so many ways, starting with her slutty, jarring voice, continuing with her addiction to the countless hairstyles she boasted every single day, and ending with her demeanor. Tarklington was a prestigious high school that boasted its own light blue and grey skirt uniform, but somehow, Ahsoka had the ability to turn even an official attire into slutty clothes by rolling her sleeves up to her elbows and doing some customizations to her skirt, like adding a cut on the right to show more thigh than any student had the right to.

“How's the work going, Mr. Jenkins?" Ahsoka asked, her voice soft, almost a taunting purr.

“It's going," he said, not bothering to lift his gaze up for fear of snapping at her. She had her raven-black hair trimmed short today, flowing past her perked, striped ears, with bangs over that petite brow which reflected her level of intelligence in the most eloquent of ways. She always preferred to keep her hair from shadowing her golden eyes, two bright spheres that had lured more men into her bed, bathroom, desk or wherever she preferred to do them than Peter cared to count.

“But how is it going? Fast? Slow? Tedious? The devil's in the details, Mr. Jenkins. It's what you always try to teach us."

“Mmm, details. Oh yeah, here's a mind blowing detail. You got an F."

“But you haven't yet corrected my test paper, so you can't know for sure."

Peter chuckled hoarsely, the sound emphasizing his exasperation. “Oh, I can. Anybody so stupid as to masturbate in public can't be a rocket scientist. What, can't you do it at home like the rest of us?"

“Mrrarr, I don't spend much time at home, Mr. Jenkins, and when the need strikes, well…it's better to take care of it." She must've noticed his frown, for she switched the topic around. “I want to major in psychology. For that, I have to meet people, engage in field work and that kind of stuff. I can't spend time at home, so instead, I do everything on the go. Simple as that."

Field work? Was that how she called hitchhiking with every single male student in the school? Actually, metaphors like hitchhiking didn't even begin to describe Ahsoka. She was a shameless and blunt brat, never bothering with subtleties, so why should Peter?

“So what, you fucked your whole neighborhood and now you moved on to more favorable prospects?"

“Life's too short to spend it correcting test papers, Mr. Jenkins. Didn't some great man say that?"

“Yeah well, you tarnish every name that comes out of that cock sucking muzzle. Didn't get those lips by playing the flute now, did you?"

Ahsoka laughed, a thin sound that clawed at Peter's ears. He closed his eyes, trying his best to withstand it, but eventually emotion got the better of him, so he slammed his red marker down and gave Ahsoka a hard look.

Of course it didn't faze her. Heck, her eyes glinted with perverse satisfaction, fingers trailing over the back of the math exercises sheet he had given her.

“Should I feel flattered or insulted? Or maybe shocked that a fine man such as yourself resorts to such personal attacks at my address, rrrrrrrrr."

Peter had no patience for her mind games. “Are you done? Show me, so that together we can score a new low into the effectiveness of our educational system."

An elegant smirk appeared on Ahsoka's white muzzle, her whiskers almost twitching with pent-up excitement. She grabbed the sheet, turned it around, and tilted her head to the side, like a cat waiting for a petting.

Well, she was a cat. A Bengal cat, to be precise, with neat, golden fur and stylish stripes decorating her body, but not one Peter would ever pet, touch, or get closer to her than necessary. She carried a dangerous disease called the whore syndrome, contaminating every male she touched. Her drawing depicted that in quite the eloquent manner, for Peter would have never, in his darkest nightmares, sucked her cunt with such passion.

“Great job. I am physically repulsed."

“Liarrrrrrrr," Ahsoka purred, waving her masterpiece around like a flag, a symbol of national pride. “Everybody said I taste great, even the other females, and I may have gotten a little hot between the haunches while working on this."

“Good for you," Peter said. He pursed his lips while continuing his work, immersing in the world of problem-solving, hoping that Ahsoka wouldn't notice his flushed cheeks.

“Are you blushing?"

Fuck!

He settled his red pen aside, drew in a deep breath, and faced his nemesis. “In fact, I am. And if you care to know why, it's because you're the only person in this whole world that gets my temperature to a whooping fucking two hundred degrees."

Ahsoka shifted into her chair, leaning forward, flaunting a devious smile. “Are you implying that my art gets your blood pumping, Mr. Fahrenheit?"

“Nope," Peter said with a vehement shake of his head. “More along the lines of me detesting your guts to the point where I seriously consider picking a meditation technique or two."

“There are numerous ways to relieve stress, Mr. Jenkins. Better ways," Ahsoka said, sticking a finger into her muzzle, rolling her tongue around it with practiced dexterity. “They're effective and very, very pleasant. I can attest to that, and so should your wife."

“NO!" Peter slammed a fist on the table and pointed a condemning finger at that raging slut. “You shall not talk of that. You shall not think of that. You will wait for your detention to pass in utter silence, or help me god, I will kick you so hard in the cunt your mom's going to feel it."

“My mom's dead, Mr. Jenkins," Ahsoka said with a mellow, heart-wrenching voice.

That only served to stoke Peter's inner fire, his temples beginning to throb from the pressure of being locked in the same room with this…this…scum!

“Then her husband must've found the dragon balls, or maybe used a scroll of resurrection on her, because I met with them last week!"

“Hrrrr, Mr. Jenkins, watch that blood pressure. I was hoping you're getting worked up in the other sense, but this is taking it too far."

“Too far? You have no respect for yourself, for your parents, for anyone!"

“Like I said, she's dead. Both of my parents are dead to me after they kicked their only child out."

“Well, gee, I wonder why!" Peter sank his face into his palms, rubbing his temples, sweeping off the film of sweat gathering on his brow. “They tried. We, your teachers, tried. But nothing stuck, so why are you even surprised they kicked you out?"

He straightened his back, interwove his fingers and regulated his voice to a placid tone. “You're more than a liability, Ahsoka. You're a depraved, base creature who corrupts everyone around her. You encourage people to give up their potential for a night of booze and sex, get them addicted to a nefarious lifestyle that ends their bright future, just so that you get your fill of cum."

Peter hoped his words would touch that sensible part of her. That she would take responsibility for her actions and realize that her boundless lust affected not only her, but her partners as well.

Instead, Ahsoka simply shrugged her slim shoulders, flicking a strand of hair behind an ear. “I like it. They like it. Everybody likes it."

“This conversation is over. Utter one more word, and I'll make sure to get you expelled. If we can't change your malicious behavior, then we'll sure as hell keep you away from our students."

Ahsoka's gaze fell on her desk. She flipped her assignment, took a glance at the math problems, then turned it around, so that she could continue adding more lewd poses to her drawing.

Peter, too, resumed his work, the tick tick tick-ing of the clock blissful in comparison to Ahsoka's voice. He went through several test papers before his focus started to dwindle. No matter how hard he tried to push that thought back, it kept returning every minute or so, a mosquito that, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't kill.

It did more than just irritate him. The more he dwelled on it, the hotter his blood turned, his cock hardening in his pants without his consent. Peter tried to kill it by tapping his foot, by shifting in his chair. He even looked out the window, but Ahsoka's busy hand simply added fuel to the fire, putting even more erotic thoughts into his mind. If they would have been generic porn, Peter wouldn't have batted an eye, but they depicted him. Against his will, Ahsoka dragged him into a lascivious realm, her drawing reflecting the things she wanted to do to him.

And, to make things worse, her left hand hovered over to the buttons of her shirt, plucking at them one by one, so that it fell to the sides to reveal her white bra, swollen with her ripe melons. Peter considered telling her how inappropriate that was, but he had better luck chiding a pig for being filthy, so he grabbed his pen and returned to correcting test papers.

He almost managed to forget about Ahsoka's plump breasts when faint clatter snapped him to awareness.

“Fuck. Dropped the pencil. I drew so much, my fingers turned stiff." She pushed her chair back, turned around, and stretched her back, the base of her tail wriggling against the hem of her skirt. “Aren't you stiff as well, Mr. Jenkins?"

Before he had the chance to reply, Ahsoka bent forward to grab her pencil, her body so flexible she lifted her rump high in the air, giving Peter a good look at her white, puffed up mound, her loose, meaty folds glistening with arousal.

“You should be stiff. You've been sitting in that chair for hours."

He waved her off with a flick of his hand, but Ahsoka remained up, beside her chair, swishing her tail and rapping her claws on the edge of the desk.

“You're a very attractive man, Mr. Jenkins. Tall men are…mrrrawr…they make me shudder, and you've that cute, short blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes that constantly avoid me for some reason. Am I that unpleasant to look at?"

“Your body's fine, but your mind is in a really wrong place, Ahsoka. You are…" Peter paused to lick his lips, his thoughts fuzzy due to his raging erection. “You're the antithesis of a good student. I mean, what are you even doing here?"

“Ahhh, well, if you insist on putting it this way…" She removed her shirt, tossing it backwards without even looking where it landed, so that she could adjust—or, to put it more accurately, to flaunt her pair of jugs. “I get free money from the government, I've a great excuse to spend time away from my shithole of a flat, and I meet lots of awesome people. You count among them, Mr. Jenkins."

Did she just wink at him?!

“I'm your teacher, not a gigolo." He swallowed the lump in his throat and bit back a snappy, unwarranted remark at her address.

“Look," he said calmly, “You can do whatever the fuck you want. I don't care. You slay my neurons by the millions, and for lack of a more eloquent way to put it, I gave up on you. So, by all means, undress, run around naked, finger yourself silly, but leave me the fuck out of it. Understand?"

Ahsoka's purr begged to differ. “It's your wife, isn't it? Hrrarr, you married a mare, and realized her cunt's a dark abyss with no bottom. Does your eel wriggle in an endless ocean, Mr. Jenkins? Can't orgasm because of it?"

Peter's fingers curled inwards, nails biting into his palms. “Don't go there," he growled.

“I'm right, am I not?" Ahsoka beamed, her delusions making her mewl with glee. “She's not satisfying you. Awesome personality, but a cunt so large you can fit a fist through it and she'd ask for a second, just to feel something."

“Ahsoka, enough." Peter smoldered by now. Something dark grew within him, ominous and unfathomable, the product of raw emotions that he could barely contain.

“Well, that's the problem. She's not giving you enough, if any. Uuu, are you ashamed? Or perhaps…afraid that you can't pleasure her the way she expects to be pleasured?"

“You don't know anything about my wife, so you better shut your cunt mouth before—“

“Before what?" Ahsoka pushed herself to her feet, grinning from ear to ear. “Tell me, gorgeous. What would you do to me if I don't stop?"

Something within Peter snapped. Badmouthing his wife was one thing, but taunting him, asking for it, as if he was some impotent bitch, just rubbed him the wrong way.

Ahsoka's eyes twinkled. They moved erratically, analyzing both him and her surroundings, her tense posture denoting both incertitude at staying and face the possible repercussions, or flee while she still had the chance. In the end, curiosity got the better of this cat.

What a grave mistake she just did.

Peter grabbed her by one of her thin wrists, hard enough to make her hiss and shriek, wrenching her to the side of the desk, then shoving her against the desk's edge. Ahsoka yelped in surprise as Peter's big, brutish hands seized her by her meaty haunches, his knuckles turning white from the pressure his fingers exerted upon her flesh.

For a man of his stature, Peter lifted the smaller feline with great ease, dropping her on top of the desk, so that her waist stood at the same level with his. That done, he held her by her wrists with a single hand while he worked on unfastening his belt with the other. Whatever rational thought he might have harbored before now paled before the unbridled lust clouding his mind, along with the strong desire to teach this slut her place.

“You like cocks, don't you bitch?" He said through clenched teeth. “Well, let's see how much you can talk while I pound that wet cunt of yours raw."

Ahsoka didn't try to resist it. She didn't squirm, nor scream rape. No, no, no. She liked being handled by a strong man teetering on the edge of sanity. She enjoyed having her thighs pried to the sides, her skirt torn apart so that her pussy laid bare before Peter.

Caught in the thrill of the moment, Mr. Jenkins unclasped the button of his jeans with bestial ferocity, shoving them down to his waist, then sliding his boxers down his thighs just enough to allow his cock to spring free of that oppressive prison. Once out, he wasted no time in plunging his erection into Ahsoka's wet cunt, the speed and brutality of his thrust making her gasp and scrunch her eyes shut.

“You stupid, fucking, malicious, manipulative, egotistical bitch," Peter rasped, fucking the whore's tight pussy so hard and fast she tossed her head back to let out soft, sporadic moans, choking every time Peter rammed at her cervix.

He was a well-endowed man, and Ahsoka, like all felines, had such dainty furrow. Hers, although it had been turned into a gaping mess before, had surprising elasticity, able to restore that tightness which made her seem to resist Peter's hungry strokes.

Tight cunt or not, Peter felt no remorse while pounding away at her squelching, shivering pussy. She provoked men into taking her before. She enjoyed the thrill of a good fuck. Right now, she probably considered herself a victor for getting Peter inside of her.

Peter slammed harder into her, pumping his thighs against hers, ramming his bulged head at her tight cervix. It felt satisfying, to hear her whimper and moan. Good. So long as it hurt a bit, Peter had a chance at teaching this slut what rape meant.

His satisfaction only lasted a few seconds. Ahsoka grabbed the edges of the desk, giggling at him, laughing at how his brow furrowed from the toll of the mating. She took great delight in this rough approach, making sure to share it through wild, passionate moans, allowing Peter to lose himself into the thrill of mating without fearing for the bitch's well-being.

If he couldn't hurt her, then he'd treat her like the cum dump she was. She was nothing to him. A mere nobody, who wouldn't voice a thing about what happened in this classroom. That gave Peter, a well-behaved teacher in his early thirties, the perfect opportunity of going wild without the fear of backlash.

For the first time in his life, he experienced the raw satisfaction of squeezing fistfuls of tight, feline ass without worrying about how hard his nails drove into her flesh. For the first time ever, he shoved the bitch on her back, flat against the desk, hoisting her legs all the way up in the air so that her entire cunt was at the mercy of his cock.

Her toes curled and flexed, claws leaving their sheaths, Ahsoka's muzzle all wrinkled up, the poor thing barely able to breathe. Peter gave her no moment of respite, his hips shoving back and forth like a well-oiled machine, maintaining a strong, rapid pace that completely obliterated Ahsoka's thoughts on his sexual performance.

“Oh, I'm good. Better than you imagined. I make my mate cum every time, you bitch, and you…you will cum harder than you ever did."

Peter relished being in charge. Putting students into place was his daily job, and what he did here—what he did to whimpering, horny Ahsoka—fell into his list of responsibilities. She misbehaved, so now she had to be taught a severe lesson into who towered about the likes of her.

“This…this is the sum of your ambition," Peter said through strained, ragged huffs as he pounded her soppy cunt, his tight ball sack slapping against her moist lips with audible squelches. “To get fucked by men like me, to get…nghh…your cunt loaded with enough seed to…ghahh…dribble like a cheap whore. At least…charge for your service, you filthy fucking cunt."

He let go of one leg, reaching towards her bra. Ahsoka tried to wiggle to the side of the desk, or maybe roll forward, but Peter clutched one of those rips melons and squeezed with everything he had, eliciting a sharp cry from the kitty cat, too sudden and erotic to be a pained one.

“Hmpf, you little slut. I'm not done with you yet. The lesson's just beginning."

From his position, balls deep into her, flanked by her sprawled legs on either side, and with Ahsoka laying flat on her back along the desk, Peter had no choice but to tear her bra, tossing that useless casing to the sides to clutch the prize it covered. They had the perfect size against his palm; small enough to encompass them in a comfortable grip, but also tight, swollen, and fulfilling. He enjoyed shifting his fingers over the furred hills a great deal, kneading them like the mounds of dough they were, rubbing and pinching at those hopelessly erect nipples.

Whenever he did that, Ahsoka would yowl. Her body would quiver, a tremor sliding through her from nose tip to tail tip, her walls clamping down upon Peter, sheltering him in a tight, wet, snug embrace. He took advantage of Ahsoka's special feature, squeezing her little buds between his finger pads with various intensities while ploughing her cunt to the point of overflow. She leaked worse than a waterfall, drenching Peter's groin with her scented slickness, a tart fragrance that enkindled Peter's lust for this single-serving cum dump.

His mate always liked to keep eye contact during his climax, but Peter owed Ahsoka nothing, so he wrapped his arms around her waist, flipped her over, then dragged her towards the edge of the desk. She squirmed and fought a little, forcing Peter to do the one thing he really wanted to avoid: grab her in his arms.

“Stop struggling," he hissed in her ear, his hot breath causing it to twitch uncontrollably. “I'll do you from behind, so hard you won't find the voice to beg for more."

That said, he pressed her against the desk, placed a hand to the back of her neck to keep her torso pressed against the desk's surface, and grabbed her tail with the other hand to keep it from squirming. Her rump was slim, shapely, a pleasure to look at, but it was her cunt that brought shudders of pure bliss through Peter's frame. She shuddered with longing, her lips parted in an oval shape, his girth having made its mark upon her.

With a savage grunt, Peter sought refuge into her cunt once again. For the first few strokes, he took it slow, savoring the way her fleshy depths felt to his vein beribboned manhood. They rippled with ecstatic jolts, her canal tightening further in, squeezing against his glans harder than his wife ever did. Peter's head reeled for a moment. His balls quivered, and his shaft began to throb, eager to spend its load into such cramped fit.

Peter gritted his teeth, holding back his release. He only had a single series of thrusts left in him, and he wanted to breed the living shit out of this unruly slut. To do that, he lowered his chest upon her back, bringing his arms around her sides, so that he groped and fondled her breasts. With her thighs firmly locked between his and the desk, Peter planted his boot toes firmly against her ankles and began pounding her.

Shlick, shlock, shlick,shlick, her cunt squelched, her lips puffy and throbbing, her femininity so loose arousal dribbled down her thighs. Peter kept at it, his hips a blur of movement, his thighs burning with the strain of maintaining the vigorous pace. As a final gift to her, Peter grabbed her scruff between his teeth and bit hard on that layer of hide, making Ahsoka yowl like the cat in heat she was.

For her, pain registered as pleasure, causing her to orgasm in quite the messy and explosive fashion. Juices erupted out of the depths of her trembling tunnel, splashing Mr. Jenkins' groin and clothes with hot, strong smelling feline femcum. Her insides lubricated so well, Peter practically glided through her, ramming against her cervix repeatedly, until he could no longer last.

With a firm thrust, he plunged balls-deep into Ahsoka's furrow, rough, guttural groans raking at his throat, heralding his overwhelming orgasm. His seed flooded Ahsoka's cunt, each throb of his cock sending extra spurts through her tight cervix and into her womb. The whole thing lasted for a few seconds, but to Peter, it felt like an eternity of pure, unaltered pleasure. His balls spilled everything they had into this bitch, and when he pulled out, her trembling cunt oozed their combined types of cum, ivory snakes trailing down her thighs and coloring her swollen, ruddy lips.

Peter grabbed Ahsoka's limp, panting form, settling her into the nearest chair. She had her eyes half-closed and her mouth open, so Peter spread her jaws a little wider, enough to ease his member into Ahsoka's mouth and mutter, “Suck it clean, bitch."

Ahsoka's tongue immediately wrapped around his tip, the well-bred instinct of cock sucking taking over, her barbs caressing Peter's over-sensitive flesh. She suckled him clean with uncanny efficiency, enjoying it so much Peter had to spread her jaws in order to pull out safely, lest that abrasive tongue chafed him raw.

“You repel me," Peter said, noticing the pool of seed her pussy leaked onto the chair. “Get up. Clean yourself. Regain your dignity."

The footsteps echoing down the hallway froze Peter's blood in his veins. While Ahsoka tied her bra and did her best to salvage her tattered skirt, Peter pulled his boxers and jeans up, hurrying to the door to greet Mrs. Joanna, a female zebra, the principal.

“Just wanted to let you know that I'm taking an early leave. You should consider doing the same. Wouldn't you rather spend time with your wife than with Ahsoka?"

“Yeah, right, of course. Thank you very much Joanna."

“You're welcome," she said, her eyes scrutinizing him. “Enjoy your evening."

“You too."

A rock lifted off Peter's heart when he closed the door, turned around, and leaned against it. Ahsoka's wits seemed to have returned to her. She flaunted that stupid smile again, pointing at her disheveled cunt.

“Are you proud of yourself, Mr. Jenkins? You raped one of your students. What's the police going to say to that?"

“Nothing. It's not rape when you mewled and yowled your guts out."

She walked towards him in that weird, zig-zaggy way specific to whores, her ears perked, tongue rolling along her muzzle. “It's my word against yours, and I'm the victim here."

Peter tried to remain nonchalant, even when icy claws clambered up his spine. “You better keep that muzzle shut."

“I agree. That's for the best. But…" she stopped in front of him, tapping a claw against his neck, sliding it through his short trimmed beard. “I'm afraid the muzzle's gonna come loose if you don't plug it with something."

She winked, then reached forward to kiss him, the teacher too stunned to stop her. “Let's not make a big deal out of it. Favor for a favor. One hand washes the other."

Peter got the door for her, inviting her out, his jaws clenched, his eyebrows narrowed in thought. “It's not wise to blackmail me."

“Oh, it's not blackmail when you like it."

Ahsoka's parting giggle haunted him, even after she left. Did a stupid whore just manipulate him into a situation that might spiral out of control?

END