[EN] The Perverted teacher is trying to corrupt me, and my fiancé has no idea #09 (Patreon)

<The Perverted teacher is trying to corrupt me, and my fiancé has no idea #09>

A sticky silence hung over the empty house after Hayato Tachibana left. Iwata looked down with satisfaction at Yoshino, who was sitting on the floor. She was now a perfectly tamed bitch who no longer resisted. He grabbed the hair of Yoshino, who was sitting at his feet, and pulled it up. "Just... I love that look in your eyes. Full of venom... it turns me on way more than when you resist." He whispered, chewing on Yoshino's earlobe. "You acted like a total slut in front of your fiancé just now, didn't you? I should give you a reward."

Yoshino showed no reaction to his words. Her empty eyes simply stared into the void. Iwata was even more aroused by her appearance. He picked up a beer can that was on the sofa table. Then, cracking it open, he began to slowly pour the beer over Yoshino's head. The cold, sticky liquid soaked her hair, ran down her face, and seeped between her cleavage. The thickly applied lipstick mixed with the beer and flowed down like red tears.

"Heh... look at you. You look exactly like a cheap bar hostess." Iwata giggled and sprayed the remaining beer all over her body. The beer foam and sticky liquid thoroughly soaked her lingerie, clinging to her body to create an obscene spectacle. Yoshino simply endured the humiliation he inflicted with her whole body in silence. But it was strange. As the cold beer touched her body, her flesh, which had been hot from the intense intercourse just before, began to heat up again. Her nipples hardened at the cold touch of the beer, and slick love juices seeped out from between her legs without her realizing it.

Iwata did not miss the change. He threw the empty beer can on the floor and squatted in front of Yoshino. Then, he began to lick up the beer flowing down her face with his tongue. As his rough, hot tongue swept over her cheeks, lips, and neckline, Yoshino's body trembled. His tongue moved lower and lower, touching her breasts soaked in beer. He took a hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked strongly, like a baby suckling milk. "Hnggh...!" A suppressed moan burst from Yoshino's mouth.

"Look at this. You're wet again. You've become a body that can't live without a cock." He slid his hand into Yoshino's thong and rummaged through her pussy, which was squelching with beer and love juices. As he crushed her clitoris hard, Yoshino twisted her waist, trying to endure the pleasure. But the pleasure, once tasted, was like a drug. Her body was already addicted to the pleasure and reacted even more violently to his touch.

"Alright, round two. This time, you suck my cock and get it hard yourself. Let's see how well you suck." Iwata leaned back comfortably on the sofa and unzipped his pants. His shaft, which had slightly softened with the lingering effects of ejaculation, revealed itself. Yoshino hesitated for a moment, but soon, as if resigned, she crawled in front of him and knelt. She held his damp, fishy-smelling cock with both hands, opened her lips smeared with dark lipstick, and took it into her mouth. This hellish night showed no signs of ending yet.

Yoshino closed her eyes in humiliation, but her body had already become a slave to pleasure. Following his command, she crawled on the floor toward Iwata's erect cock. Her lips, glistening with dark lipstick, parted, and she took his member, reeking of a fishy scent, into her mouth. She stuck out her tongue to lick the tip of the glans, then took his cock deep into her mouth, sucking it all the way to the root. Slurp, slurp, obscene sounds echoed through the living room. She no longer felt any shame in this act. Instead, her mind was filled only with thoughts of how to satisfy him more, how to draw out greater pleasure.

"Ugh... good... just... you're like a professional whore..." Iwata let out a satisfied groan at her dazzling tongue movements. He grabbed Yoshino's head and shoved his cock deep into her throat. "Gag, gag...!" Yoshino retched as she choked, but she moved her tongue and lips in rhythm with his movements. His cock, moving in and out of her throat, became harder and hotter.

Iwata, who had been ravaging the inside of her mouth for a while, pushed her back as if he could no longer hold back. "That's enough. I'm going to cum just from your mouth. Get on all fours again. I'll fuck you harder than before, so brace yourself." At his command, Yoshino raised her hips even higher and got on her hands and knees as if she had been waiting. Her pussy, thoroughly soaked with beer and love juices, was perfectly ready to accept his cock.

Iwata positioned himself behind her and once again shoved his thing into her pussy. This time, it entered much more smoothly and deeply than before. "Haa...!" A satisfied sigh burst from Yoshino's mouth. Iwata began to move his hips slowly but heavily. Squelch, squelch. The sound of wet flesh colliding echoed rhythmically. He stroked Yoshino's buttocks with his palms, enjoying the feel of her soft skin.

"How is it? Better than before, right? Can you feel your pussy clamping down on my cock?" At his words, Yoshino nodded and let out a moan mixed with even more coquetry. "Yes... Teacher... it's so... so good... harder... please fuck my pussy... until it tears... ahhh!" She was completely corrupted now. Spitting out vulgar words with her own mouth, she was craving greater stimulation.

At her reaction, Iwata lost his reason. Like a beast, he began to pound her pussy madly again. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The living room was filled with their moans and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Yoshino floundered in waves of pleasure, reaching climax again and again. Her body convulsed, pouring out hot fluids, and Iwata only stopped moving after pouring everything he had inside her pussy without leaving a drop. After it was all over, the two of them, covered in sweat and bodily fluids, leaned against each other for a while, gasping for breath. The hellish night was passing by once again.

The hellish night passed, and the faint light of Sunday morning seeped through the crack in the window. Iwata woke up with a satisfied expression. Beside him, Yoshino, covered in sweat and fluids, was curled up like a beast, completely exhausted and asleep. He tapped her buttocks once, then began to gather his clothes and get dressed. Before leaving the front door, he looked down at the sleeping Yoshino for a moment. "Rest up, my bitch. See you at school tomorrow." He whispered quietly and left her house without lingering. Even at the sound of the front door closing with a thud, Yoshino didn't move a muscle.

Her body had reached its limit. The extreme stress, lack of sleep, and physical violation over the past few days had completely drained her mind and body. Even after Iwata left, she fell into a deep sleep as if dead. Her consciousness floated in pitch-black darkness where she didn't even dream. A state of complete nothingness where all physical senses were turned off and even the flow of time seemed to stop. Perhaps that was the only refuge where she could escape from this hellish reality.

How long had she slept? Yoshino opened her eyes to a stiffness that seemed to crush her whole body and a terrible thirst. Outside the window, it was already submerged in deep darkness. Checking the clock, the hands pointed to 8 PM. She had spent more than half the day sleeping. She struggled to sit up. Every time she moved her body, every joint felt like it was screaming. The pain in her lower back and between her legs was particularly severe.

She staggered up and looked around the house. The living room was a disaster zone. The rug was stained with a terrible mixture of sex, bodily fluids, and beer, and the air reeked of a musty, fishy smell. The clothes he had thrown off were scattered carelessly on the sofa, and an ashtray full of cigarette butts sat on the table. All of this proved that last night's nightmare was reality.

Yoshino stared blankly at the scene, then began to move mechanically. She picked up the dirty clothes and put them in the washing machine, cleared the trash, and wiped the stains off the floor with a wet rag. As if trying to erase the traces of humiliation engraved on her body, she moved ceaselessly. When she finished cleaning everything and came out after a hot shower, the house had regained its original clean appearance. But she couldn't erase the scars and stains left in her heart.

In the empty house, she sat alone at the dining table and downed a glass of cold water. A terrible hunger struck, but she didn't want to eat anything. She just stared into the darkness outside the window. Tomorrow is Monday. She has to go to school again. Face the students, greet her fellow teachers, and... she has to see Iwata and Hayato Tachibana again. The thought made her stomach churn. Her ordinary daily life had become a past that could never return. Suddenly, she picked up her phone. Dozens of missed calls and unread messages were piled up. Most were from Hayato Tachibana. Without hesitation, she blocked his number and deleted all messages. Then she stared blankly at her own face reflected in the black screen. There was only a strange, hollowed-out woman there.

Monday morning, the alarm sound pierced her ears like the trumpets of hell. Yoshino sat up with a groan. Muscles all over her body screamed, and the throbbing pain in her lower back and between her legs wouldn't go away. She couldn't tell if she had slept or passed out over the weekend. But yesterday's hollow helplessness was gone, and something cold and hard had taken its place. She has to go to school today. She has to face him, Iwata, again.

Her reflection in the bathroom mirror was unfamiliar. Under her eyes was dark and her cheeks were gaunt, but her eyes alone were strangely alive. She opened the closet door. The neat, loose-fitting blouses and skirts she usually enjoyed wearing caught her eye. Those clothes, which once symbolized herself as a teacher, now felt like a hypocrite's shell. Without hesitation, she pushed the clothes aside and took out a shopping bag hidden deep inside. They were things he had bought her.

Yoshino chose her underwear first. A flashy black push-up bra. The thick padding pushed her breasts up forcefully from below, creating a deep, shadowed cleavage that hadn't existed before. The forced-together breasts felt suffocating, but at the same time, that pressure gave her a strange sense of stability. The thong was even more of a spectacle. The small piece of fabric in the front barely pretended to cover her private parts, and her buttocks were completely exposed except for a thin string. Every time she felt the bare skin of her buttocks revealed under her skirt, she imprinted on herself once again that she was his property.

The outerwear seemed to keep the minimum line as a teacher. Yoshino chose a pure white silk blouse and a knee-length black pencil skirt. But they were a size smaller than what she usually wore. The blouse revealed the outline of her breasts, swollen as if about to burst, and clung tightly to her back and waistline. As if determined, she unbuttoned the top two buttons. It wasn't explicit exposure, but every time she bowed her head or moved, her dizzying cleavage peeked out along with the black lace of her bra. The pencil skirt was the same. The tight fabric traced the voluptuous curves of her buttocks and thighs exactly, and she could feel the bare skin of her buttocks, exposed by the thong, twitching against the fabric with every step.

She put more effort into her makeup than usual. She cleared up her skin tone and drew her eyeliner so thin it was invisible but made her eyes look sharp. The biggest change was her lips. Instead of a calm coral color, she applied a high-saturation red tint to the inside of her lips to create a flushed, subtly sensual look. Yoshino, having finished all preparations, stood in front of the mirror. A neat, yet somehow breathtakingly sexy woman. A perfect teacher on the outside, but a woman filled with obscene desires on the inside. She smiled faintly at herself in the mirror. This must be the look Iwata wanted.

On the way to school, she accepted the gaze of the entire world with her whole body. On the subway, men's gazes blatantly landed on her chest and hips. Although she had dressed herself up diligently, the embarrassment had not completely disappeared yet. She blushed slightly and tried to look as if nothing was wrong.

As she entered the staff room, the familiar air and the figures of two men came into view. Iwata drinking coffee in the corner, and Hayato Tachibana sitting at his desk with his head bowed low. Yoshino lightly bowed to Iwata first. The moment their eyes met, she felt Iwata's eyes shine with satisfaction and scan her body up and down. That was enough. She didn't even give a glance to Hayato Tachibana. He was now nothing more than an invisible man, non-existent in her world. While sitting down and turning on her computer, she felt Iwata's satisfied gaze and Hayato Tachibana's despairing gaze on her back simultaneously. A new week was beginning like that.

A few days passed. Yoshino's daily life was finding a strange balance. Every morning, she wore the obscene underwear Iwata bought her and covered it with office looks a size too small. The curves of her breasts and hips, looking ready to burst, attracted the gazes of male teachers and male students like a magnet whenever she walked down the classroom hallway. While she accepted those gazes numbly, she only reacted to Iwata's satisfied gaze felt from behind. Hayato Tachibana became a ghost in the staff room. He flinched and bowed his head even if Yoshino's gaze just brushed past him, and his existence became worthless to Yoshino, less than dust.

During lunch or break times, Iwata ceremoniously called her to his computer room. In his kingdom filled with the low hum of servers, he would knead Yoshino's buttocks or slip his hand inside her blouse to grab her breasts, confirming his ownership. "You're just... walking sex. You know that pathetic vice-principal bastard is drooling while looking at you too, right?" He giggled as he spoke, and Yoshino accepted his harassment without any expression. Her obedience only fueled his desire for conquest.

There were eyes watching their dangerous routine with anxiety. It was Vice Principal Nagumo. With 30 years of teaching experience and retirement approaching, he was like a father to the students and a sturdy pillar for the young teachers. He keenly sensed that Ms. Yoshino Fujii, who had been bright and intelligent when first appointed, had changed into a somewhat shadowed and precarious atmosphere in just a few days. Her unusually tight clothing, darker makeup, and above all, her hovering around Iwata raised a red flag in his long experience.

The incident exploded on Friday afternoon, after the end-of-day meeting was over. In the staff room, which was emptying as most teachers left work, Yoshino was also packing her bag to leave. At that moment, Vice Principal Nagumo approached her and spoke in a gentle voice. "Ms. Yoshino, shall we have a cup of tea in the vice-principal's office for a moment? I have something to tell you." His expression was warm, but deep concern was etched in his eyes. Yoshino couldn't refuse. She hesitated for a moment, then headed to the vice-principal's office. Iwata's insidious eyes, pretending to read a newspaper in the corner of the staff room, did not miss that sight.

Sitting face to face on the fluffy sofa in the vice-principal's office, Vice Principal Nagumo spoke cautiously. "Ms. Yoshino, is there something difficult going on? You don't look well these days... I don't know if I'm interfering unnecessarily, but I think it would be better to... keep some distance from Mr. Iwata. That man has a side different from how he looks..." It was the very moment he lightly held Yoshino's hand with sincere worry to comfort her.

Bang! The door to the vice-principal's office flew open roughly, and Iwata barged in with a face flushed with rage. He looked back and forth between Vice Principal Nagumo and Yoshino, shouting as if he had witnessed an unbelievable scene. "Vice Principal! What are you doing here right now! Why are you holding a young female teacher's hand instead of going home?!" His shouting echoed through the empty hallway. Vice Principal Nagumo's face hardened at the absurd situation, and he couldn't continue his words, saying, "Mr. Iwata, what is this rude..."

Iwata cut off Vice Principal Nagumo and stood in front of Yoshino, wrapping around her shoulders protectively. Then, he delivered a devil's whisper to her that only she could hear. "Speak clearly. Say that old geezer hit on you. If you don't, know that your photos will be scattered on every student's desk tomorrow morning." He looked down at Yoshino. In his eyes, along with the threat, a madness enjoying this situation flashed. Yoshino's vision went white. On one side, a benevolent superior genuinely worried about her. On the other, a devil holding and shaking her entire existence. She stood at a crossroads of choice. Open the gates of hell, or push an innocent man into it?

Silence flowed. The air inside the vice-principal's office was pulled taut as if frozen. The only sounds in Yoshino's ears were Iwata's devilish whisper, the sound of her own heart beating madly, and Vice Principal Nagumo's bewildered breathing. Her gaze wavered, unable to find a place to rest on the pattern of the carpet on the floor. Open the gates of hell, or push an innocent man into it? In fact, there was only one choice from the beginning. Her falling into hell versus her entire life being exposed to the world and being socially buried. The scale was already tipped.

She slowly, very slowly raised her head. Her eyes felt hot as if tears would spill at any moment, but she desperately held them back. Her gaze lingered briefly on Vice Principal Nagumo's face, who was looking at her with concern. I'm sorry. She repeated it in her heart, but they were words that could never come out of her mouth. She had to perform. The most desperate and perfect performance, on which the rest of her life depended.

Yoshino covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Her shoulders began to shake slightly, and soon a suppressed sob leaked out. "Huk... h..." She collapsed into Iwata's arms. Then, facing Vice Principal Nagumo, with the face of a victim stricken with betrayal and fear, she spoke in a trembling voice. "V... Mr. Iwata... I was so... scared... The Vice Principal... suddenly... held my hand and... said strange things..." She couldn't continue and burst into tears even more sorrowfully.

The blood drained from Vice Principal Nagumo's face. His gentle eyes were dyed with shock, bewilderment, and deep despair. He looked back and forth between Yoshino and Iwata as if he couldn't believe it, waving his hand in the air with a tremble. "Th... Ms. Yoshino... what are you saying... I was just... worried..." His protest scattered powerlessly before Yoshino's calculated crying and Iwata's triumphant anger.

"Shut up, Vice Principal!" Iwata hugged Yoshino tighter and shot a look of contempt at Vice Principal Nagumo. "For someone your age, what kind of disgraceful behavior is this! Harboring dirty thoughts about a young female teacher! With someone like you sitting in the vice-principal's seat, no wonder the school is in this state!" As if he had become an apostle of justice, he patted Yoshino's back and comforted her. "It's okay, Yoshino. It's okay now. I'll handle everything. I'm sorry you had to see such filth."

He supported Yoshino and headed for the door of the vice-principal's office. Just before crossing the threshold, he looked back one last time at Vice Principal Nagumo, who was standing there devastated. "I won't just let this slide today. I'll formally raise an issue with the Board of Education, so be aware of that." His voice was cold and firm. He took Yoshino and left the vice-principal's office. Behind the door that closed with a bang, Vice Principal Nagumo collapsed on the spot, listening to the sound of his honor and life crumbling down in an instant.

Walking out into the empty hallway, Yoshino continued to sob, her shoulders heaving in Iwata's arms. But tears no longer flowed from her eyes. The tears of blood her soul wept were visible only to herself. She had just pushed the life of a good man into the abyss with her own hands. She had now become an irrevocable accomplice. Into the deepest part of hell, she took another step just like that.