Buffy Beaten update

Xander couldn’t remember why he went to the school library, other than that it seemed like the safest bet to find one of the other Scoobies. But whatever his exact thought process was, it was blasted out of his mind by the moist, muffled sounds he heard when he was at the door. It sounded exactly like his cock had as he slid it in and out of Buffy’s mom. 

Then Xander thought that must be his hormonal teenage imagination at work. There was no way someone was fucking in the library. Giles had taken great pains to make it the least sexy place in Sunnydale. 

Confidently, he went into the library and saw Miss Ampata bent over a desk, Giles behind her, stuffing his prick into her ass.

Xander’s cock had been stiff before, but now it was rock-hard, engorged, bloating out the front of his pants in an enormous bulge. He stopped and stared, enthralled, seeing how Giles was alternating his strokes so that first his cock was pumped into Ampata’s ass, then it went into her pussy. 

Seeing the young Latina getting sodomized was what fired Xander’s lust. He opened his fly, taking his cock out to thrust in front of him like a hunter’s rifle. He pumped it, but only got in a few strokes before Giles fed his cum into Miss Ampata’s pussy as ardently as he’d given her his cock. 

Xander immediately felt incensed that he hadn’t seen more—not even Giles coming in her ass, which seemed obviously the thing to do with a hot little ass like Ampata’s. But he couldn’t complain. This had been one hell of a treat; who knew that Giles could fuck hard enough to satisfy a sweet piece like Miss Ampata?

As they slowed, Xander instinctively worried that their attention would wander from each other and onto him. He didn’t think to back out of the library, instead slipping inside and ducking out of sight behind a bookshelf. He needed to work off his own erection anyway. He certainly had plenty of inspiration.

He moved down the row, looking around a corner to see if it offered more seclusion, but what Xander got was another shock. Willow was right there, looking through a gap in the rows of books, watching as Ampata got fucked!

Willow’s dress was up. She wasn’t wearing panties. She was touching herself, and not just her pussy, although one hand was there, but her asshole as well. Willow was not the sweet, innocent, nearly sexless girl Xander had always thought of her as. She was depraved—a borderline pervert, finger fucking herself while she spied on a pair of adults and their sodomy. 

Thoughts of joining in on Willow’s debauchery danced around Xander’s mind, his desire for her suddenly as intense as it had ever been for Cordelia. What she lacked—and who didn’t lack, in comparison to Cordelia’s perfect body?—she clearly made up for in sheer freakiness. Did he dare hope she had as much naughtiness in her as him, a teenage boy?

Under circumstances like these, Xander couldn’t think, which obviously meant he couldn’t decide. Willow had to be horny; why else would she be fingering herself, even fucking her own ass? And if she liked a few fingers, she must love a cock. She was staring at Giles’s member in rapture, and Xander had to think his own johnson could give Giles’s a run for its money. Especially in Willow’s ass. He didn’t care if she went the whole time staring at Giles and Ampata, so long as he got his hands on that sweet ass, his cock in that sweet ass! 

Xander trembled with lust, his indecision hard-pressed to keep him in place. Finally, he could only think to give in. Even if Willow came away thinking he was the biggest pervert in the school, she wouldn’t have much room to talk. 

He came up behind Willow, his fly still down so that if she looked behind her, she would see how massive his erection had grown, shooting out from his groin all long and hard for her. He stood there, waiting for Willow to react to his prick.

Willow didn’t see it.

She kept looking between the books, as interested in Giles and Ampata as she’d ever been, and rightly so.

The two of them were no more finished than she and Xander were.

***

As the ejaculation dragged on, Cordelia felt like a water balloon under a running faucet. Still, she smiled satisfyingly. Even if she hadn’t come, it’d felt nice. And she always had Xander to get her off. Plus, Willow didn’t want Mr. Stratford, she wanted Xander, so fucking him had all the fun of stealing another girl’s precious guy without any dumb bullshit about her being a ho. She wasn’t a ho. She was a dirty cunt. She held her breasts against Mr. Stratford’s face as he did what men do to dirty cunts.

Cordelia kissed Mr. Stratford on the cheek, lightly, letting him know that this was nothing serious, just a bit of fun. Then she rose slowly, looking back at her discarded clothes like they were normalcy itself—one more way she ruled the school—and starting to go to them.

Stratford grabbed her hand. He pulled her back against himself. Cordelia was so unready for it that she tripped over her own feet, falling into his lap like a stripper in the champagne room. “What?” Cordelia cried, speaking both to what Mr. Stratford had done and her own whorish comparison. Like a stripper? When was Cordelia Chase ever like a stripper?

“Not so fast, Ms. Chase,” Stratford said.

“What?” Cordelia repeated, her voice cool again, clearly speaking to Mr. Stratford. He couldn’t possibly have any more cum. 

“It’s not that easy.”

“Easy?” Cordelia repeated dully—it certainly hadn’t been easy taking as much cock as Mr. Stratford had given her, even if it had been, well—not unpleasant.

“Yes. Easy. Giving me a little ass and getting yourself an A. Oh no. You aren’t even a sixty-four, my dear. I corrected your test. You’re down to a fifty-seven. If you want that bumped up forty points, you’re going to have to apply yourself.”

Cordelia stared at him in shock. She’d thought Stratford was another Wesley—a twerp, however hung he was, who would beg to be wrapped around her little finger.

“What are you talking about?” Cordelia demanded, trying to apply her old power on him, like what he’d said was too stupid for him to comprehend. 

She pulled away from his body, standing up and claiming her physical perfection, looking like he was unworthy of even being in her presence. Especially while spewing such nonsense.

But Stratford’s eyes only roved hungrily over her flesh. He wasn’t trying to hide his leering in the slightest. “It means that if you’re whoring yourself out for a good grade, I expect you to be much more of a whore than you have been.”

“I’m no whore!” Cordelia said indignantly, actually stomping her foot. That sent a ripple through her voluptuous body that only made Stratford appreciate the sight even more. 

“Don’t feel bad, Cordelia. All women are whores. Dirty cunts. Some just charge different prices and get paid in different ways.”

Cordelia opened her mouth to contradict him—she wasn’t a dirty cunt, at least not with him, not all the time—but he interrupted her.

“For months now, you’ve been showing off those big tits and that nice fat ass you have… not to mention those long fucking legs,” Stratford husked, reaching out to pat her thigh. Cordelia shied away, even if it felt nice—one of those things men did to dirty cunt. “You know how nice that makes men. How it makes them want to please you. How they hope they’ll get the chance to play with what you show off in all your tight blouses and short skirts. Well, now you have to pay up. Just a look and smile isn’t going to cut it today. You have to really be a whore now instead of only pretending.”

“What do you want?” Cordelia panted, only now realizing how heavy her breathing had become.

“Surely you know what men dream about doing to you when you flounce your tits and ass the way you do. I want to do those things for real. I want to do what men do to dirty cunts.”

Cordelia pressed her lips together, simpering. She was a whore, she knew, a slut, but only for Xander. Not for everyone. Not for Willow or Buffy or… yet her pussy was clenching at the prospect, moistening and roiling as she thought of Willow’s body, of Buffy’s, of Stratford’s. Maybe she was just a dirty cunt.

Stratford stood up and opened a desk drawer. He pulled out a length of cord.

“First, I want you to blow me. I’m sure that’s how every guy you’ve ever talked to would like to shut you up,” Stratford quipped.

“Alright,” Cordelia said reluctantly, biting back a harsher reply. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how to do that. It would be like what she’d done with Willow and Conrad—only this time she would get the man’s cock, his cum, all to herself. Her pussy spasmed at the thought. Why was she so turned on when he was treating her like a whore?

“Good. Sounds like you’re finally self-aware enough to know your place. Turn around. Put your hands behind your back.”

“Why?” Cordelia insisted, having to work to suppress the desire to simply obey. She’d almost done as she was told automatically.

“Because I’m going to bind you.”

“What the fuck?” Cordelia demanded, her body jerking back.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want your hands tied while you give me a blowjob.”

“Why? Afraid I’m going to put a finger up your ass?” Cordelia taunted.

Mr. Stratford only smiled. “This is what men do to dirty cunts. Come on now. Don’t try to pretend you’re a good girl now.”

Cordelia turned around, her hands behind her back. Stratford wrapped the cord around her wrists, then tied a tight knot into it. Automatically, Cordelia pulled at her bonds to see if she could get free, but she couldn’t move the cord at all.

“Now get on your knees,” Stratford told her, sounding more confident, more commanding.

Cordelia was a little nervous but she did as she’d been told.

“Straighten up. Don’t slump there like some ungrateful lump, whore.”

“Don’t call me a whore!” Cordelia protested indignantly.

“That’s what you are, Ms. Chase. Face it. You’re fucking for a report card. That was your choice. And now that you’ve become a whore, this is what men do to you.”

Cordelia straightened her back. Stratford walked around her, his eyes ravishing her body from every angle.

“Splendid. Absolutely beautiful. Your body is sheer perfection. A statue couldn’t be more lovely.”

Mr. Stratford took his pants off. He folded them and set them on his desk.

“Every man has dreamed of this, Cordelia. Every single man that’s looked at you has wanted to do this. You tried to deny them, but this is what men do to dirty cunts.”

He stopped in front of her. His prick was hard again. It was still wet from her pussy. Cordelia gaped at it. She didn’t know how he could be so big. How could she have taken such a monster?

Stratford pushed himself against her mouth. Cordelia opened her lips and let him enter her throat, registering his odd taste and almost panicking—was something wrong with his dick, she’d had it in her cunt, what if he was a vampire or a demon? Then she realized she was tasting her own cunt on his manhood. 

Was it what Willow tasted like? Was this what Willow would taste eating her out, licking her pussy? Cordelia couldn’t think. He was so big, packing himself into her mouth, filling her senses with his taste, his lusty musk. She sucked and the act soon became second nature to her, something Cordelia could do without thinking, do while luxuriating in enjoyment. She liked the taste of pussy, especially her own. She loved hunting for it, sliding her tongue around and around Stratford’s cockhead, then back along his length to seek out all the juices she’d left on his prick when he’d claimed her cunt the way he now was her mouth.

Stratford’s prick got even harder, throbbed even harder, but he took it away—pulled back so that only his knob stayed between her lips. He wasn’t even touching her. He just stood in front of her kneeling body, his hands on his hips, his legs akimbo as she bobbed her head on his upright erection. 

Then Stratford took her ear in one hand, the base of his cock in the other, and he pulled his dick away from her to rub it across her face, wiping his precum and her own saliva onto Cordelia’s cheeks before he pushed it into her mouth again. Cordelia eagerly sucked it down and Stratford cupped her ears with both hands, using them as handles while he fucked into her mouth. He pumped hard against her face, forcing his cockhead to the back of her throat. Cordelia gagged and gurgled around the fat cock he pushed insistently through her mouth.

Cordelia was almost willingly impaling her throat on Stratford’s cock, fucking herself via the mouth, and Stratford let go of her ears. His hands slid through her sleek brown hair, the color of the finest chocolate, squeezing its lush softness, caressing the delicate splendor that was his to possess and enjoy. Then he grabbed the back of her head. He shoved Cordelia down so that all of his cock was plunged down her throat, her lips pressed to his groin in a soulful kiss.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Stratford panted, his cock throbbing in her mouth and throat like a heartbeat going a mile a minute. “I know how much you love cum—but I’ll let you have this for free—I’ll let you be my cum slut just because you love it so much! HNNH!”

Cordelia sputtered as his cum jetted out of his roiling manhood. She barely had to swallow; he was pouring his seed directly down her throat. She breathed it in more than gulped it down. The liquid heat cascaded down into her belly, Cordelia knowing it signaled the end of whatever this was, relieved and regretful in equal measure. 

She’d been a whore. She hadn’t disliked it. She didn’t know if she liked it, but most of all, she wasn’t incapable of being a whore. She’d done it. Once, she would’ve thought the whole thing was impossible, but as more and more cum slid down her throat, she had to admit what she’d done and what she was.

Her mind tried to flee from the disturbing thought. She worried instead about being found out; she disliked that prospect more than she did being a whore. She’d acted enough like a whore with Xander, even with Willow, and enjoyed it, but if someone had a key to the door, she would never live it down. She’d be lower than any of her victims had ever been on the school totem pole. The talk of Sunnydale High’s locker room for years and years.

Mr. Stratford pulled out of her splayed lips, staggering back with a gasp until he sat on his desk. His cock was soft again, but it was still so long, so huge. Cordelia hadn’t imagined anything like this when she’d hatched her plan to seduce him. She’d thought she would be in control, that she would enjoy being in control, not that this would happen, that she would enjoy—

“Now that is one hot little mouth,” Stratford leered. “God, I love these tight teenage fucks. Good from your pink painted toenails right up to your mouths.”

Cordelia blinked in surprise. How often did he do this? Was this really what men did to dirty cunts? Could he have done this to Buffy—Willow?

“On your feet, Ms. Chase,” Stratford said, reaching under Cordelia’s armpits to pull her to her feet.

“Untie me! Now!” Cordelia barked.

Smiling mockingly, Stratford did so. Cordelia let out a relieved breath as her hands were released. She rubbed her wrists, wishing they were sorer. It would be easier to have regrets if her wrists were sore—if she had some physical proof that she hadn’t wanted what she had enjoyed.

“Is that it? Do I get an A?” Cordelia asked sardonically.

“On the oral exam, most definitely. But there’s still some things to test you on.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened in denial. She had just been resigning herself to it being over. There couldn’t be more. “Someone’s going to come in, someone will catch you, us, me!” she keened.

“No one uses this room for an hour yet. Didn’t you know that when you picked this time for your little stunt?” Stratford smiled at her. “Maybe you’re just lucky.”

“I let you fuck me, I gave you a blowjob…”

“Let’s say that bumps you up to a seventy and then an eighty, respectively. If you want an A, you’ll still need some extra credit work.”

Cordelia clenched her teeth. “I suppose I don’t have any choice.”

“Actually, Ms. Chase, you do,” Stratford leered. “You chose to spread your legs for me like a whore and then you chose to open your mouth and let me fuck your throat. The only thing you didn’t choose was to enjoy it. That happened because you’re a dirty cunt.”

Cordelia felt breathless. “What do you want?”

Stratford patted the desktop beside him. “Bend over my desk.”

Cordelia looked down at his manhood. To her dismay, it was limp. How could he fuck her if he was limp? “What are you going to do?”

“You’ve been naughty, Cordelia. I’m going to spank you.”