5 ~ Fucked into Oblivion

GREGORY'S POV

His cock—still hard, still leaking—throbbed in front of me, thick and terrifying and irresistible.

I licked my lips, swallowed down my shame… and leaned in. The desk looming above like an altar.

He gripped my hair—gentle enough to guide, firm enough to command. “Open for me,” he ordered, and I parted my lips, my tongue flicking out.

He guided his cock into my mouth. As he pushed his cock in, even the cool metal of the desk couldn't distract me from the heat emanating from his cock while filling my damn mouth up.

He tested me by pulling his cock deeper into my throat, choking me and letting my throat stretch around him. He groaned—deep and vibrating, “That's it, you little slut. Suck me like I own you.”

His hand pressed down my head and I felt the slick heat of my saliva and his precum drooling down my cheek. “Don't swallow,” he breathed, “I will make you taste every drop.”

“Hmm… yes…” I moaned as I pushed my head back and forth while he sent his hand to the table. Obviously noting down my performance to get my grades. But I could still hear his moaning which made me continue to worship his cock. He thrusted his hips up anytime my tongue grazed over the tip of his cock, licking his precum and it seemed pretty much that I was loving the salty liquid.

He pulled out his cock all of a sudden. I whimpered. He assisted me up then he pushed me—My back against the desk, my wrists pinned beneath my hands.

His cock hovered at my rosebud, forcing me to look bad. And yeah… I was drenched and I was driving so much that the starch of paper and the shine of the desk blur beneath me.

He smirked, “I want to ruin you,” he rasped, “break you over my lap until you can’t walk straight ever again.”

“Yes, Daddy. I'm bound by your rules.” I winced out, hoping he had already slammed the fucking hard cock into my pleading hole already.

“Beg me like the whore you are.”

“Fuck Me, Daddy.” I pleaded, my eyes locked onto his.

He hovered above me, almost pushing off the laptop. He kissed me like I was fragile—while his fingers that were caressing my hole reminded me I wasn’t.

I wanted him.

He broke the kiss. He began to lower himself as he placed sweet, hot kisses from my neck to my stomach then… to my private region. On purpose, he avoided my cock and sank deeper to my hole.

“Should I show you how ruined I can get you?” He asked, his breath, hot against my opening.

“Yes.”

“Well… not yet. Take me first. I can't wait any longer.”

He patted my hole's entrance for some time. Then, he thrusted in one brutal, electric slam. I gasped as his pelvis slammed into mine, his hand cradling my hip, pinning me in place.

“You feel that?” He growled. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel when I own your body.”

I arched, every nerve ending aflame, his name caught in a desperate moan.

“Can you show me how ruined I made you?” He said, leaving me to adjust to his damn size.

I sighed loudly, tears simmering behind my sockets. “I will, Daddy.”

He thrusted in further, filling me up entirely as I threw my head back and grabbed my cock that was about to explode.

There were no slow strokes. No tenderness. Just the sharp, relentless rhythm of his hips slamming against mine, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the heavy, humid air of his office. Every thrust sent my body jolting against the desk, my legs trembling with the effort to stay spread wide—exactly how he wanted me.

“Look at you,” Professor Richard growled, his breath ghosting over my neck, his voice laced with a twisted cocktail of praise and degradation. “You’re cock-drunk and needy. You’re going to cum all over this desk, aren’t you? Say it.”

I barely found my voice through the haze of pressure and burning need. “Please, Professor… Please let me cum all over your desk.”

“Not yet.” His hand flew to my cock, gripping it with ruthless precision and stopping my desperate rhythm. His nails bit into my flesh, pulling a gasp straight from my throat. “You haven’t earned it. Not until you beg like the good boy I’m trying to make out of you.”

I writhed beneath him, breathless, sweating, and broken open in more ways than one. The humiliation, the control, and the maddening pleasure—every piece of it had woven into something addictive. Something I had always wished for was mine.

“Daddy,” I whimpered, my voice raw and real, “ruin me like a dominant man ruins his favorite toy… thoroughly and often. Please… make me forget how to breathe without your permission.”

His low chuckle vibrated through my spine. “Now you’re learning.”

He pulled back, and I thought he would stop—thought I might be granted mercy. Instead, he flipped me over like I was nothing but a ragdoll, hoisted me up, and helped me kneel on the edge of his desk. My knees and hands hit the cold metal, sweat smearing across the polished surface.

Then, he leaned behind—his possessiveness wild and calculating—and whispered into my ear, “Class isn’t over, sweetheart. Not until I’ve marked every inch of you.”

I swallowed hard, my lips parted as my breath hitched in anticipation.

His hand slid down my back, trailing a line of fire along my spine before spreading my ass, exposing me completely to his gaze. I flinched at the rawness of the moment, but his grip was steady, grounding—dangerously reassuring.

“This is where you learn obedience,” he said slowly, pressing the tip of his cock against my entrance. “Where you learn what it means to belong to me.”

I barely had a second to brace myself.

He pushed in with brutal, unrelenting pressure. Not all at once, but enough to make my vision blur and my fingers curl into the hard desk surface beneath me. My lips parted with a cry that died in the air, swallowed by the overwhelming stretch, the burn, the feeling of being filled so deep I could hardly think.

“Breathe,” he whispered, dragging his nails along my ribs. “You’re doing so well.”

His hips began to move. No rhythm. Just power. Just punishment. The sound of his skin slapping against my skin filled the office like a crude symphony, and I couldn’t stop myself from moaning—broken, shameless, and already on the edge.

His hand snaked beneath me and gripped my cock again, stroking it with a maddening pace that matched his thrusts. My knees trembled, my mind untethered. All I could focus on was the tight heat, the violent affection, and the dominance radiating off him like a second skin.

“Please… Daddy…” I whimpered. “I… I can’t… I’m gonna…”

“No,” he growled into my ear, pulling out just enough to slap his cock against my hole with a wet sting before slamming back in. “You’ll hold it. You’ll take it. You’ll cum only when I say you can.”

I bit down on my forearm to keep from screaming. The intensity was too much. I could feel myself climbing, my legs locking, and the coil inside me tightening with terrifying speed.

But just as the pressure swelled past the point of no return—just as I felt the world begin to snap—he stopped.

Everything stopped.

No thrusts. No hand. Just silence and heat and the sound of my own desperate breathing.

Then, he whispered, breath like fire against my neck, “Would you still beg to cum if I wasn’t the only one watching?”

My heart crashed in my chest. I turned my head, confused, and panicked.

And then I saw it… Kale was standing by the door with tears clogging his eyes. He had been watching Professor Richard rammed into me.