Lately, Isobel – my college girlfriend of a few months, has been frigid as hell.

I wake up to her slamming my apartment door, the wrrring sound of the blender dampened by the walls.

Not the first time I woke up today. A few hours earlier, I awoke to my painful erection lodged tightly between her clothed asscheeks. The barest light of dawn shone through the curtains. Spooning her though the night, I’m surprised I didn’t dry-hump rape her in my sleep.

Now that I’m awake, the sweet smell of her hair, and her picturesque doll face only worsen the situation. I got up and sat off my side of the bed and quietly sigh. My throbbing cockhead poked out the top of my briefs, twitching with each heartbeat.

Isobel has always had very long hair. When standing, her dead straight light brown strands reach down almost to the back of her knees. It;s always all perfectly shiny like she just got off the set of a Pantene commercial. Maybe its some 1000 dollar product she treats it with daddies money. Yet it seems natural – flawless like the rest of her.

I still vividly remember the first time I saw her. How could I not notice a pure feminine being like that? She’s basically perfect, apart from her huge long pointy nose that she’s always been really self conscious about.

She told me she’s never cut it, and her dad confirmed that fact when we last met at a café. It went pretty well. I’m nobody special, but he seemed to like me. . Well, no.t. . hate me, at least. He’s a rich business man and Isobel is his jewish princess.

Don’t judge me for what I did. You have to understand, I’ve been sex starved for weeks, and this perfect doll has been riling me up the whole time. I wanted to touch her, but I’d be a dead man if I woke her up. So I slowly and carefully grabbed a handful of her hair, and wrapped it around my dick. It felt good, nice and smooth, almost wet with our nightly sweat. But I just couldn’t do it. What kind of creep does that? Even if I’m horny as fuck, there’s no excuse. I slink back into bed, only to hear Isobel’s 6:30 alarm a few sleepy moments later.

She gets up confidently and stretches. I pretend to be asleep, peering at her freshly shaved armpit through my squinted eyes. Isobel is very shy, and, uuuh, reactionary. She’d literally punch me in the temple if she caught me gazing so vulgarly. Her lithe, but well rounded body moves over and opens the curtains wide in one fell swoop.

I moan sleepily and pull the covers over. She comes over to the base of the bed and rips the covers off me, onto the floor “Come on, it’s healthy for you. Just a few weeks and it’ll be a habit.” She says with a dead tone like she’s a palliative carer.

I cover myself like a cat and shiver in the cold morning air. Her eyes flick to my crotch and back, her face slightly reddens, and gives of a look of obscene disgust. She then marches out of the room – not before grabbing her pillow and slamming my face with it. “GET. UP!”

I sigh, and think about her body. Issy sleeps in her gym gear to save time. In fact I already hear the slam of the door just a minute or so later. Efficient. Career driven. That’s Isobel, that’s for sure. Fuuuck. Skin tight grey spandex shorts, and a matching singlet, over her hard sports bra. A tight, well sculpted fit body.

I get up, close the curtains, and get back into bed. Maybe I’ll finally have a wet dream after all this god damn denial.

Maybe I did, because when I awoke to her return, I had practically soaked my briefs and a wet spot into the mattress by pissing my precum all over. Still, no release. I get up and put my robe on. Nothing to do today, I’ll have a shower later. Better go and talk to Isobel and show her I’m awake before she throws water in my face. . . Jeeze. Are all girlfriends this bad?

“Well, nice of you to get up and grace me with your presence, sleepy prince. It should be me that’s sleeping in. Didn’t you ever read sleeping beauty? God. What am I going to do with you. Mom was really right. Having a boyfriend is like adopting a child.”

She’s positively soaked from her hot yoga class. The light grey gym gear has soaked into an almost black colour now. Her shorts have sucked in to form a slight camel toe. Damn she reeks.

I– I– . . . . . GOD DAMNIT I JUST CAN’T FUCKING TAKE IT ANY MORE!!!

I droop to my knees in-front of her, thick erection tenting up visibly through my robe.

“Issy. . Please. . . Why are you doing this to me?”

I might have even been slightly sobbing in that moment. She looks down at me with ab-so-lute disgust.

“Seriously?” She scowls.

“Fucking boys. I told you. I’m busy with finals. Can’t you just keep yourself contained for a week or so longer you stupid animal?”

Her serious expression scares me, like I might have actually screwed up the relationship. I get up quickly and retort back with an indignant tone:

“’Busy’ – Yea I know what that means. I get that finals are coming up but this is ridiculous. Just tell me. What did I do? What deserves you icing me for almost a month?”

“No-thing. Get it through your stupid thick skull. I just have a lot going on in my life. Sex is an aspect of it, not the driver.”

I know better than to argue with Issy. She’s top of the debating club, among her many other intellectual pursuits. I just stand there in an awkward silence, dick still pulsing.

“Issy. You have to be reasonable here. You have to understand. It’s just nature. You’re one of the hottest girls in the world. What do you expect? You need to take some responsibility.”

“Haha. You can’t be serious right?”

She walks into the kitchen in-fornt of me and just keeps going on with her morning routine.

After some more awkward seconds she starts speaking, facing away from me, preparing her lunch for the day.

“OK. . Look. I’m a humanitarian. If it’s my body you crave so much, then fine. You can –ugh, ‘use me’. Just don’t bother me.”

“W- What do you mean?”

“Like, you know, just–. . . get yourself off. But don’t interrupt what I’m doing. I have a lot to read and stuff, OK?”

She carries her phone and green smoothie over to the couch, lying down on her stomach on the sofa, then starts flicking though her phone.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

“Hey! Don’t get your sweat all over my couch.”

“Your couch?”

“Well – the landlord’s couch. But, yea. The landlord might deduct my bond you know!”

She just keeps scrolling her phone in silence.

I gingerly walk over, lean in from behind and start massaging her ass-cheeks. Soon enough I can barely wait. I mount her, slipping my dick under her shorts, squeezing her ass tight around it. She twitches ever so slightly and lets out a quiet sound. Other than that she’s completely ignoring me. I begin to thrust.

“No panties? That’s quite lewd you know.” I say, trying to get her in the mood.

“Ugghh.” She scoffs. “They’re all dirty. I’ve been too busy to wash. Besides I have heaps of gym shorts that basically double as panties anyway.”

As I slide between her asscheeks I look over her shoulder, curious what she passed me up for.

“Instagram. Really?”

“I have to keep up on all the trends. Something the stupid ape side of of humanity – boys, will never understand. It’s OK for you to go around smacking each other with big sticks like cave men. But being a girl takes a lot more effort and sophistication. You’ll learn to appreciate that.”

I have no response,  so I just keep thrusting in embarrassment.

After a few minutes:

(‘Maybe, I can do. . . ‘that’) I think to myself with a mischievous feeling. I pull back, using my thumbs to lightly push my fat cock head deep against her asshole, then slide between her cheeks again for a while. I do this subtly, over and over. Then I decide to really do it. I angle up, poking the head inline with her butthole, and push.

She lets out a loud yeep and immediately gets up, throwing me to the ground. Before I can turn and look I feel a hard blow to the back of my head and fall dead onto the ground. I get up and she’s looking at me furiously, and slaps me – hard.

“Did you just fucken kick me in the head?”

“SO WHAT IF I DID!? DID YOU JUST TRY TO RAPE ME IN THE ASS?! FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

Like an idiot, I laugh at the pun; A few tears going down her face.

She sees my slight grin and continues to punch me.

“OK. OK, OK, OK, OK. Stop. I’m sorry. I thought–”

“YOU THOUGHT WHAT? BRAN? What did you think!?”

She knees me in the nuts. I fall back down and she stomps on my crotch again and again. Fuck it hurts so bad I don’t even yell in pain, and my boner instantly deflates.

She slows down and then flails falling onto the side of the hall, lightly sobbing.

“What am I to you?”

I look down to my feet, and hear her few tears hit the carpet in the cold silence.

. . .

“Don’t worry about the sex stuff. I just wanna spend some time with you. I miss you.”

She calms.

I stroke her long silky hair with my right hand, caress her face with the other, but she turns away. Still icy as ever.

. . .

“Hey, I’m free today! How about I share the train ride with you to college?”

Little did I know at this time, she agreed because she really was worried we were going to break up. Unfortunately, I still had nothing on my mind but revenge and destruction.

She looks at the time on her phone and jolts.

“Shit. I’m late.”

She chucks on her blood red sweater and plaid schoolgirl-like dress, right over-top her sweat-soaked gym gear; black mate 8-inch heels over her sweaty gym socks, then scurries to my bedroom spraying on some of my deodorant to mask the spray as we run out the door.

The train is packed, and she’s hardly paying attention to me – looking down at her phone most of the time. My balls are swelling in pain. How much of a heartless bitch do you have to be? She knows about my ‘special endowments’. I have bigger and more active nuts than the average guy. Being the pragmatic career sort of girlfriend she is, she even took me to the fertility clinic to see if I was a dud or not. In fact it’s the opposite. I got diagnosed with hyperspermia – that is, according to the doc; I produce more cum than the normal guy, but the way more abnormal part is my cum is much more dense, like glue. I NEED release. But she only cares about herself. I stroke her long beautiful hair and let out an evil giggle as I realize my revenge.

If she’s so sick of attention, I’ll make ever single guy look at her today.

“We should go stand by the door so you don’t miss your stop.”

“Mm. Right.” she says robotically still looking at her phone. I grab her hand and shuffle her to the backdoor, into a corner out of sight.

I immediately start jerking my cock. I quickly get rockhard smelling her filthy bodysweat that’s brewing inside her sweater. After only a few minutes, I release a huge backed up thick sticky overdue load all over her hair. Holy, sweet release! *Uuuhnnmpf! It was at least 3 times as much as my normal load, and much more nasty in consistency. Even though I let out a quiet lewd moan, she is completely oblivious – focused on her phone.

My hardness shows no signs of going down. I keep jerking now with my own cum for lube. Soon I’m on the edge and I’m so excited I accidentally push the back of her elbow. She drops her phone and I quickly mutter ‘Sorry’. As she crouches down to get it, her ass brushes me and I start to feel the cum rising up even harder than the first time, spurting all over the top of her head. My prostate juices have had time to warm up, making this load more watery, but along with the excitement of my first public masturbation, easily the biggest load I’ve ever shot. Rope after rope. 10 or even 20 ropes of jelly like cum. I can barley finish as she gets up, squirting it all down her long locks.

Fuuuck. That felt so good. I put my dick back in my pants like a ninja and rest for a while.

I don’t tower over Issy by any standard, we’re almost the same height. But I’m big enough and wearing a baggy enough sports hoody that nobody can observe my fine work of art.

She gets a look of disgust on her face and starts sniffing.

“Damn, you stink even worse than I do. It smells like your nasty balls are right under my nose. Don’t tell me you didn’t shower either. This is so embarrassing. See. This is why I don’t wanna be seen with you. You have no pride in yourself. Rumors are going to start spreading that we’re the disgusting couple that doesn’t wash.”

She goes on and on berating me, still scrolling on her phone. Then there’s an awkward silence. She’s giving me the silent treatment like she always does.

Even angrier I whip my cock out again and jack it furiously,. This time I really feel my balls tighten up and I feel euphoric as thick chunky cum launches – yet another load into her hair. I can actually feel my pisshole stretching as the chunks spew out. I squeese my fat nutsack with my other hand through my pants, as the flow starts to stop. Chunks are still stuck down the underside of my dick.

I try to pull the foreskin back, but its stuck. Sealed up effectively with concrete.

There’s still 20 minutes of this long train ride to go.

The orgasms start to come in regular periods, as I cum again, and again, and again, all over her hair. Thick white putrid smelling goo. My balls start to ache after about the 5th shot, as I let out a particularly thick yellow tinted yogurt. This is what my doctor told me about. Backed up congealed fluid in the prostate. Damn it fucking reeks. But holy fuck does it feel good to get out of my system.

Her hair is completely covered, almost literally from head to toe. She looks like she’s been the victim of one of those pranks where the pour a bucket of slime over your head. Except it clearly looks like its started to decay, turn rotten and dry. I grab at one of the few spots that isn’t covered and use her hair like a handy-towel to wipe off my nasty dick.

Finally her stop comes along. She gets off immediately without saying a word. I shout “Hey, babe.” She turns around quickly and some of my cum gets flicked to the ground. An old woman gasps at the sight

“What?” she asks in her prude tone.

“Have a nice day” I smile. She storms off in an angry fit. Someone might have stopped and told her if she wasn’t marching so angrily. I watch as everyone starts to jeer and point in amazement. All I can think about is getting back home to ice my huge wrung-out ballsack.

*Isobel’s Perspective

“Arrogant prick.” I mutter under my breath.

Entering the pure, constantly cleansed air of the university biology department, I really start to notice my smell.

“Ugh.. I know I’m sweaty, but. . . it stinks like balls in here.”

I brush my hair out of my eyes to see the clock. 5 minutes till class; Then I notice. . . A sting of goo hanging off my finger, and loads more half-dried, pungent, sticky. . . cum.

“Wha?! What?! No. This can’t be what I think it is.” I plunge deeper into my hair, feeling a the cold slime as it completely covers my fingers. “THAT BASTARD!” I yell, then quickly cover my mouth. Everyone is looking at me.

I rush into the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. I’m panting. Salivating. Before I do anything else, I bring a bunch of my hair close to her nose and begin huffing it, quickly and deeply.

“Fucking– nasty, dirty. . .”

I suck on my hair. Oh my god! There’s so much! And I can’t get enough. . *uuumphff.

My pussy aches and drips through my shorts. I quickly take off the sweater. Feels so good to let my sweaty body free. MmmMMmppf. I pull mu hair through my mouth, eating up all the gobs of semen, swamped by all the lewd smells surrounding, furiously rubbing my inflamed slit through my shorts. My thick hair rubs against my nose, leaving a stacked up slime all over it.

“God. . . What a jerk for getting me in a situation like this.. . Fuck, it reeks like hell.” I mumble under my breath.

“He didn’t even care that I smelt this bad.” my voice wobbles.

I desperately pull down my shorts, and start jerking my nubby clit. My pussy stings.

The truth is. . . I’ve developed some bad vaginal infections for a while now. It hurts, but I need to do it. Besides, class is almost about to start.

Hurriedly rubbing my sick, denied pussy, I feel the sharp orgasmic spikes nearing almost instantly. Squirting all over the stall door, I cover my mouth and nose with my cum splattered hair as my eyes rolled back, trying to mask my raw orgasm. Fuck. I came so. hard.

. . .

“I have. . to– I have to wash it.”

Hoping no-one is outside the stall, I pull my shorts up, hop out and dash my head under the sink-tap. I wash as best I can, but it’s not clean. The warm water congeals some of the cum, practically baking it into my hair. Fuck. I madly fish my phone out of my purse, looking for the time. Just a few minutes.

I can’t be late. Not even now. The competition level for the masters program is insane. My record has to be perfect.. The bottom of my caked mess of hair is still COVERED in stinky, thick cum. I look at my sweater for a few seconds and throw it on. I tuck my hair into it, down through head hole. It tickles and sticks to my sweaty body. The smells mix and immediately begin to brew together.

“I am going to have a SERIOUS chat with Bran when I get home.” I stomp out the door.

Isobel enters 5 minutes late to her BIO335 anatomy lecture. The only door is right next to the front of the small 30 person classroom. She almost bumps into the teacher – Doctor Margaret, apologizes meekly and walks up to the back of the class. Margaret notices a small slime dripping from her nose, her eyes informing Issy – who quickly wipes it away in embarrasment (‘It’s fine. In fact it’s good that she saw that. She’ll just be thinking I’m sick.’) Isobel thinks to herself.

“Ahem. As I was saying. . . Don’t laugh. Every year we get gigglers. . . Animal genitalia can get quite. . . wacky. Salamanders and snakes have 2 penises. This is because they engage in a massive sexual competition– where 5 to, even up to 100 males search for the female– who is coiled within the ‘mating ball’.” She moves to the next slide, showing a picture that looks like a giant ball of rubber-bands. “Being able to approach form both angles proves advantageous in this chaotic situation.” She flicks to the next slide. “Many fish change their gender depending on dominance and available mates. And echidnas have 1 penis with 4 penis heads. Why? We have no idea. My guess is that it blasts the uterus like a shotgun.”

The glass giggles, followed by Margaret’s coy motherly sigh.

I’m still so fucking horny. I can’t escape these smells. I see Miss Margaret in a way I hadn’t seen her all semester. Is it just my horny imagination or are hard lumps subtly poking out of her top?

Margaret’s usual attire was slight inappropriate for teaching young adults. Perhaps she thought it was OK because 80% of the class were always girls. Her turtle-necked bright red tube top – while very professional looking, doesn’t really leave anything to the imagination. . barely containing her cow size cups. She must be at least a EE, maybe even FF. I’ve always been jealous of them, and equally jealous of her wide hips and ass. Slimmed by a knee length black business skirt, matching her square framed black glasses and mate black heels – practically indistinguishable from my own. . . She really is a sexier future version of me. Sometimes I fantasied about her in class. I thought it was because I wanted to be her. But now. . . I think about sucking on her obscene nasty-huge nipples. . . It’s OK. We’ve all sucked on our mothers. . . But. With hers. . . That would be, sort like– sucking on a. . . dick.

I shake my head and snap out of it. In reality she was a lot more modest covered up by her open lab coat she never bothered to take off between classes and lab-time, with her mid-length grey hair neatly tied up.

“Something you don’t agree with Isobel?” She picks up.

(‘Of all the days, genitalia had to be today, didn’t it?’) I think to myself.

“Uh. No. Sorry miss. I just, got one of those weird creepy feelings. Haha.” I laugh nervously.

The class goes on, as Isobel’s attention fades. She reaches down to feel her wet seat. Her spandex short-pants have soaked and ridden way up into the maw of her nasty cunt, forming a huge skintight camel toe.

“Pigs, like ducks, have corkscrew penises – which navigate the swine vagina like a sort of maze. However their mating strategy is mainly typified by their. . . ahem, exceptionally. . . large gonads. They flood their mate’s uterus with liters of c-. . semen, and then release a second, much more sticky semen which seals up the vagina – all in an effort to out do competitors.”

A spritely blonde girl near the front of the class puts her hand up.

“Pigs have very similar DNA to humans though right? How can they be so different to us?”

“That’s what we’re figuring out right now Cindy. Good question.”

*The lesson decays into a mumble on Isobel’s ears. She starts to dig into her pussy through the spandex, massaging slowly in circles, making a quiet, barely audible wet sloshing sound.

“Common house dogs, along with their ancestors, have quite a similar strategy. Thick pods at the base of the penis, aptly called knots, swell up at the base of the penis to seal it inside the vagina, until a potential gestation has occurred.”

Cindy the eager teacher’s pet raises her hand again.

“Miss Margaret, sorry, but uhh, I’ve always wondered this since I was little. Can you explain to us why dogs lick each other’s butts? It’s really weird and gross. It just doesn’t make sense to me. I mean who would actually want to, like, lick that nasty mess?”

“Ahh, well. . yes. You’re quite right. It is dirty. You see, the chemicals tell dogs a lot about each other. They help a dog to know if another dog is male or female, how old it is, what it eats, how healthy it is, and even what kind of mood they’re in. The chemicals also help it to know if other dogs are strangers or if they’ve met before. All of this helps dogs decide how they should behave. It’s how dogs first get to know each other! A butt sniff for dogs is like a handshake for humans.”

*Isobels butthole winks and puckers as she rubs her labia now with both hands, pulling her brewing honeypot apart while thumbing her clit.

“Dogs actually have anus glands or ‘anus sacs’, that build up an intentionally foul stench, sort of like skunks. They use them for territory marking, among other things. It’s quite common for these glands to get ‘impacted’ – that is, built up, unable to release. One day I came home to my ridge-back darling rubbing his butt all over the carpet, leaving a brown trail. It’s what they do to relieve the symptoms, poor thing.”

Isobel might as well be one of the dogs in question. She juts her hips forward on her seat, taking a brief glance from Margaret, who then continues on with the lesson. She hastily shoves her index and middle finger into her asshole through the fabric, in and out feverishly while rubbing her clit with the other. After a while she jolts abruptly, at the feeling of a rip in the fabric, her fingers sinking into the squishy warm feeling of her rectum.

Letting out a small moan, two of her class-girls look up at her – She quickly juts her pencil skirt down over her crotch, barely covering it.

Lifting her hands back up onto the desk she plays normal for a while. The smell of her ass and pussy quickly waft up from her hands, making this act still unbearable. After a minute or so, she raises the stink fingers to her nose and inhales softly. Her mind goes fuzzy, and her pussy and butthole engorge. She rubs the ass-fingers on the underside of her nose, wipes them on her lips, and then gobbles them up. Her pussy is screaming.

The right hand then dives down onto her clit, furiously rubbing. The little nub throbs. ‘Oh. Fuck. The orgasm is coming. So. Close.’

Unfortunately, right then she feels a weakness in her knees and bladder. Her asshole loosens, and the streams of piss she didn’t get out in the toilet freely jet out. Miss Margaret looks dead at her, watching, oddly. Her voice slows down but she keeps speaking the lesson. Her face is noticeably red. Sounds of drips hit the carpet.

Isobel’s hand slips and lightly knocks the front of the desk. She looks down and then her face goes dead white.

There’s clear plexi-glass where wood should be. The class had been moved from A to K block – the newer block, due to a biohazard incident last week. Miss Margaret, world famous and tenured Professor Margaret, Isobel’s soon to be master’s supervisor, had seen everything. Bright yellow piss flowed down the plexiglass as Margaret wrapped up the lesson.

“Isobel; Please wait for me after class thank you. I need to talk to you about the honors scholarship program.”

A few girls of the class ooo and jeer at Isobel, taunting her for being special. While Margaret is packing up and answering quick post-class questions, Isobel wipes the seat clean with her skirt, and shimmies off one shoe to wipe the plexi-glass clean with the tights covering her small delicate foot.

After the class clears out, she slips the shoe back on and waddles down to Miss Margaret, thinking they’ll both play it off as if nothing happened. “Come with me to my office, I’d like to show you the brief of your next years project assignment, and the new technology we just got in. I know you’re the type of good little girl that likes to get a head start over the summer.” Margaret extends out her hand to grasp “Follow me. My office has been relocated since the accident.”

Margaret lures Isobel past the door to the toilet she was just in an hour ago, then suddenly, with force, grabs Isobel and throws her and herself through the door.

A tense open mouth shows Margaret’s clenched teeth, almost making her look like a shark. Her eyes have a complex wicked look in them. Margaret’s own quite large hooked nose almost touches her students.

“I’d at least. . expect you to. . . have the respect, to not come to my class. . utterly drenched in sexual fluids of all kinds.” she says, between huffed breaths.

Isobel stands up straight, with her hands locked over her crotch, then bends into a slight bow.

“I- I’m sorry Miss Margaret. It wont happen again. Please. I’m sorry. Please don’t expel me from the masters program. Please. I’m your best student. You know that.”

Margaret’s face softens to it’s calm, polar opposite of what it just was. She slips off her lab coat and drops it to the floor seductively off of her index finger.

“Relax, hun.” She laughs. “ I’m not going to expel you. Come, take a seat. We have a fair bit more to talk about.” She walks towards the toilet stalls holding her finger out as a subtly sensual lure. If Isobel was less flustered she would have noticed a new playful swinging gait in Marge’s hips as she strolled. Marge walks past the first four stalls, then opens the exact one Isobel had got herself off in.

“In the stall? Really? Can’t we talk somewhere else? This place stinks really bad now that the janitors are on strike.”

“Exactly. Nobody comes here. Here is good. I don’t want anyone eavesdropping on what I’m about to tell you. Especially not that pesky Neville. He’s supervising a lot of the same stuff as me this year, and his office is still right next to mine. I swear I’ve caught him holding a cup up to my door on numerous occasions. Pathetic idiot. Trying to steal my secrets.”

Isobel walks up obediently, then stops at the open door.

“Umm, this one s-stinks. Someone had a real hard time in here.” Her left hand goes to open the other stall.

Marge’s cold, serpentine hand lightly slaps over the top over her own.

“Don’t worry. We won’t be here thaaat long. Besides. I can smell it too. This whole place has been stunk out something awful. I thought rich college girls would be cleaner. . .”

Isobel meekishly sits down, toilet seat already up. Marge looms over her – casting over a long shadow from the fluorescent light. In this pose, Isobel’s pencil skirt can barely cover her crotch.

The unusually tall, 6 foot 3 Marge, steps her heels into the stall, closes the door and locks it behind her. She turns around, slapping her mammoth milf ass down on the front of the toilet set, sitting tandem in-front Isobel; She leans down and forward, face approaching the floor, and takes a long lick up the stall door, licks her lips, and swallows.

“Mmmmm. Only the purest from little college girls.”

Isobel’s face turns white again, more piss flowing from her crotch onto Marge’s backside.

“Oh.” she says coyfully. “You really are a nasty pig sow, aren’t you?”

“How- how do you know?”

“Tut tut.” Marge shakes her head disappointedly.

“Watching the girls through my own secret cameras is just one of my many hobbies around this place silly girl. At first it was to bust them for cheating on quizzes. But. . . haha. . . what can I say? I got corrupted.”

Marge stands up, hikes her skirt up, and pulls her ever so slightly transparent black tights down to her ankles revealing bright fluorescent hot-pink panties. She steps over Isobel’s face, ripping her hair up from out of her sweater. Some of it drops down so far it rests in the bottom of the toilet bowl. Marge’s crotch squishes onto Isobel’s nose, sucking it into her bulgy camel-toe, as the panties instantly soak as if a lemon is being squeezed inside them. “Uuuugghh . . Fuck yesss. . Take a good wif hun.”

She then abruptly pulls off. She squats down while pulling off her panties, reaches down and, violently stuffs them completely up Isobel’s pussy through the hole she made earlier, stretching it out wider for Margaret’s fist. The girl lets out a very lewd moan.

“I knew you’d enjoy this.” laughs Margaret.

Isobel hears very sloppy sounds of Marge rubbing her pussy near the bathroom floor.

“I can wait for most girls. . . But you’re even nastier than me. Cum slut. Filthy unwashed pig bitch. Stench loving princess. You’d make a real good queen of the pig sty you know that?”

Marge stands up, revealing a. . . perplexing sight.

Completely baby-hairless pussy. But, there’s something wrong with it. What the fuck, is she infected or something?

Her pussy is swollen something bad, like it had been left in a pussy pump overnight. Thick meaty labia and a pouting pisshole.

“Like my handy-work? The forefront of my very own modern research.”

She squats forward over Isobel’s face, her monstrous cunt completely enveloping the doll-faced girl’s nose and mouth. Grabbing both of Isobel’s wrists she grinds her face, the girl wavering left to right, smearing a chalky white vaginal smegma slime residue all over her face.

“Disobedient to your chief advisor huh?”

She pulls her pussy off, which makes a lewd sound like pulling a suction cup off the wall.

Isobel’s face is still white with fear, but has hints of a certain lewd look also.

“It’s only fair that I do this next part. You pissed on me. So. . .”

Marge death-grips Isobel’s wrists, one in each hand. The girl yelps and struggles against the mild pain. Nobel renowned scientist Professor Margaret Felmund, begins to unleash a torrent of deep orange piss all over her student’s face. Little bits get in the girl’s eyes and mouth before she can close them tight. After a few long seconds the stream lessens in pressure, soaking all into Isobel’s sweater, then her skirt, then her tights, then sprinkles off her shoes.

She lets Isobel go, slumping down on the toilet, shivering.

Before the dejected girl can even snap back to reality, Miss Margaret reaches into the depths of her pussy, rips out her own, slimy pink panties, and slaps them as hard as she can over Isobel’s face, the viscous juice splattering, some landing on each side of the stall walls.

After a few seconds of delay, Isobel’s pussy twitches, and then implodes with a gushing orgasm. The high-class girl lets out a retarded moan, and after long seconds of violent seizing, she just lays there, shivering and twitching like a beaten house wife. Her tongue twists out of her face in a demonic contortion.

Miss Margaret pulls the panties down upside-down over her head. They stick over Isobel’s nose like some comedic balaclava.

While Isobel is still in post-bitchgasm comatose, Margaret reaches to her own behind, straining as she pulls out something large. With a pop, and a nasty wet fart, she sets the thick plastic blue buttplug up on the toilet tank behind Isobel’s head

She then pulls down her own black business skirt back to normal, then past, down off under her feet, taking it off long with her thin tights, and kick them forward into the corner of the stall. Turning a 180 and bending over, her broadening ass-cheeks open and like a gate, revealing a huge dark brown anus, puffy like a horse’s, and hairy all around.

“Now, for desert.”

She slowly goes to sit on Isobel’s face, but Isobel cowers down, lower, lower, Marge’s fat ass eclipses the light. She slipping forward off the toilet, head hanging back closer and closer into the toilet bowl, her brilliant hair is now almost completely soaked in toilet water, the smells of which she’s now close enough to pick up on.

Margaret’s huge apple sized pucker opens up even more as she strains and rubs her belly, pushing and pushing, forcing her puffy mutant asshole open, sounding a few cute toots.

“You can’t mean. . . No. No way. NO WAY STOP! WHAT THE HELL YOU SICK BITCH!!!”

A look of absolute panic came over Isobel like never before. Something so visceral. Isobel enjoyed pheremonic attraction like the next animal, but this was going too far. Waaay too far. Her nose just lightly pokes the obscene anus.

*SSHHSRLLORpPppppt

A deep bubbly fart hits Isobel point blant in the face, as the sulfur burns her nostrils she makes a look of raw disgust that would easily challenge the one made to Bran earlier today.  She coughs and sputters as her face reddens over in a deep blush. On some deep level, she actually likes this.

(‘Oh my. . The smell of Miss Margaret’s behind. . . After the harsh vapour went away, so rich, I can’t describe it. . .’)

*Hnng. Margaret tenses again, desperately trying to plaster her student’s face with the ultimate disgrace. But then abruptly stops.

“Seems it’s your lucky day, pigslut. No junk in the trunk so to say. Hahahahahaha.” She laughs at herself like an absolute maniac completely gone in the head, no care for if someone outside might hear.

In that very moment, something deep inside Isobel’s personality snapped – as if the laugh itself was a magic spell. She felt supremely angry. More angry than ever before. And powerful.

She locks her arms around Margaret and knees her swiftly in the gut.

“Guuah!” Marge spits, landing on he stall door.

She knees her again and again, then using the yoga flexibility of a near master kicks Marge in the face.