Mr. Bronson was way too hot to be a math teacher. He dressed like one though, including an unfashionable brown suit and a utterly ridiculous red bowtie. But the nerdy clothing didn’t stop his muscular body from trying to break free from its cover. Fuck, it was obvious the dude had been working out for months but still wore the same clothes his old scrawny self had worn for ages. The carefully trimmed beard tagging along with his masculine face made him look endearingly handsome. He’d look way hotter in a more revealing outfit, sure, but you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to his current apparel in a “scrawny nerd just turned into a huge mountain of walking muscle” kind of way, like those comic characters that get huge after taking a leak in a radioactive pool or whichever crazy origin story they have.
He had his quirks, though. For example, whenever he graded tests during class he’d try to chew the plastic cap from the pen he was holding, when he took notes on his notepad he’d do the same to his pencils (his pencil case was full of nibbled pencils!) or when he wasn’t holding anything he’d just nibble his nails. It was so annoying! Specially the barely audible and monotonous sound he made: “Nib! Nib! Nib!”.
Just like now. Your class was in the middle of a math exam and your classmates were all focused on their tests in complete silence. You, the jock with the smallest brain on the whole college campus, were of course not making any sense of any of the questions. What the hell were all those weird symbols between the numbers? Were they...letters? What were all those letters doing in a math test? You were sure your test must have been misprinted. Well, not like it mattered with your impeccable sports scholarship anyway. But still, time was going so slowly! You glanced at the clock and scratched your balls in a healthy mix of annoyance and boredom.
You heard a cough. It was Mr. Bronson. He was glancing at you defiantly.
“Please, abstain from touching yourselves in the middle of the exam.” He said, and the whole class burst into laughter.
“I wasn’t jerking off!” You declared, and the class laughed even more. You then realized that Mr. Bronson hadn’t mentioned your name explicitly, but you had just gone and practically confessed your crimes. Crap, he was good.
“Damn, Derek is all sexed up since he came out from the closet last week...” You heard someone mutter. “He’s such a faggot.” You were about to retort something back, probably something very witty but then Bronson told you all to “zip it” and to get back to the test.
“Grr...” You groaned. Scratching your balls was something that you could not take for granted, specially since during lunch break your whole package had become temporarily separated from your body and replaced with a drinking straw. It had been such a surreal experience that you were still debating if it had even been real. Everybody else had seemed to react like nothing had happened even with your big hairy ballsack dangling publicly in front of the whole cafeteria. Thankfully your cock seemed to had returned back to normal although not before receiving a blowjob from Mike which had been astronomically amazing but also embarrassing in equal measure. You’d have liked to question him about what just happened, but Mike was currently in art class in the opposite side of the campus and besides, you were sure he’d just think you were mentally insane if you asked him about your magical cock. You wished he’d suck your cock again soon, though.
You took a quick peek inside your pencil case. All squished up between a compass and a pair of scissors there was a very battered plastic pink straw in all of its splendor. The thought that this feeble thing had actually switched places with your genitals was horrific and to be honest you’d rather just forget about that whole experience, but what if they switched places again...? Best to have it close at hand, just in case...
(Nib, nib, nib...!)
Yikes, that annoying sound again. Your math teacher was currently very deep in thought working in what he had referred to as “very important paperwork” when in reality it was a copy of “365 Crossword Puzzles That’ll Blow Your Mind”. And his mind was definitely being blown off because he wouldn’t stop chewing his pencil, his beautiful hazel eyes lost in thought as he flipped the pencil over and over with his fingertips. Seriously, if it wasn’t for his annoying mannerisms Mr. Bronson would be a nice score.
“Mmmm... Six letters, ‘a bundle of sticks bound together and used as fuel’... I have no idea what it could be...” Bronson murmured.
“Look at that faggot. Derek is ogling Mr. Bronson again...” One of the nastiest class bullies whispered.
“Silence, Wiggins! We’re in the middle of an exam and I’m busy filling these extremely important forms!” Bronson reprimanded.
Time was flowing very slowly. You were getting bored out of your mind. Mr. Bronson however was becoming increasingly more frustrated with his puzzle. He took hold of his tortured pencil covered in bitemarks and unaware of the strength of his muscular fist... SNAP! The pencil broke in two!
“Ah, fuck.” He cursed when he saw the useless remains of the pencil. Wiggins laughed at the clumsy brute of a professor, but Bronson didn’t find it humorous at all. “Another one bites the dust, as they would say. I think I have another one over... here?” He mumbled to himself. “No... Oh, that’s right, I have that cheap ballpoint pen I bought at the knick knack store the other day...”
You couldn’t help but smile a little bit thinking about how cute Mr. Bronson was when he broke things. He was like a little boy sometimes. A big and freaking hairy dumb boy dressed like a nerd whose muscles gave away his true nature. You imagined him coming to you bare ass naked, crying like a little baby. “Grown-up clothes don’t fit me anymore! What do I do uncle Derek?” And then you’d sit him on your lap, your hardon gently caressing his big exposed buttcheeks through your pants, and you’d say, “Nothing! Because big brutes like you look much better with no clothes on. So go forth towards the sunset with pride! Let your cock dance with the wind!... But not before you suck your big uncle’s meat!”
Fuck, you were getting a raging boner right here in the classroom thanks to your unlikely fantasies. You had a big tent assembled in your pants!
“Ah, here it is.” Mr. Bronson said as he took hold of his desired item with a strong grip out of his case and put it on the professor’s table in full display.
You gasped. You were expecting him to pull out a ballpoint pen or some other similar writing instrument but what Mr. Bronson had taken out from his case was... a freaking dildo!
Holy fuck! You burst out laughing. It had to be an embarrassing mistake for Mr. Bronson, pulling out a sex toy right in front of all the classroom like that!
“Hahaha, so that’s the kind of stuff you like to stuff in your ass, eh, Mr. Bronson? Hahaha...!”
...But something was off. Nobody else was laughing. In fact, they were all looking at you like you had said something completely tone-deaf.
“...What?” You asked. “It clearly looks like a dildo”.
Everybody stared at you, some chuckled, others just shrugged their arms in utter cringe.
“It finally happened, now Derek think every single thing looks like a cock...”
“I don’t wanna borrow his pencil case anymore...”
“Ugh, that attention whore would say anything to put himself into the spotlight, wouldn’t he?”
You got a bit pissed. “It’s the truth! Look at it! It’s long and pointy and has balls!” You stood up from your seat to point at the accused object. But everybody just laughed as they pointed at your crotch, and only then you remembered about your raging erection. You covered it up in embarrassment, and when your hands touched your manhood you noticed it felt very different. It felt light and slim yet it wouldn’t go down. It was extremely similar to when your dick and testicles swapped places with the drinking straw...
“Derek Johnson, please, sit down! Don’t make me report you to the council for indecent exposure!”
You sat down. “I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear!” Your face was red in shame.
Bronson crossed his arms. “You’re on a roll lately, aren’t you? Don’t you dare speak another single word until the test is over or you’ll be expelled from class!”
You nodded in defeat. The giant math teacher sat back down with a sigh and grabbed your phallus with all of his strength.
“YIKES!” You exclaimed and then quickly covered your mouth. Oh, fuck. You could perfectly feel Bronson’s huge fingers taking hold of your boner! All eight and a half inches of it! There was no doubt about it any longer... Your penis had once again swapped places... this time with your professor’s pen! You wanted to scream in panic, you wanted to demand your genitals back and most importantly, you didn’t want your cock and balls to be in the hands of that huge brute! ...But you were in the middle of an exam, with just a word away from being expelled... You couldn’t warrant another expulsion! You had two strikes already from way back, another one and you could lose your entire scholarship!
You were balls-deep in this. Run for it and risk your promising future for the sake of recovering your organ or just let the big brute with a tendency to break everything he touches take hold of your cock for a while? It wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly... Specially considering the fact that your opponent in this confrontation already had the upper hand. Bronson held your biggest weak spot, your hairy set of balls, on his muscular fist. You wouldn’t want to piss him off lest you wanted your testicles be crushed into a nasty pulp of semen... You’d better think very carefully about your next move!
“Oh, that’s it!” Bronson muttered to himself with childish glee as he stared at the empty spaces on the crossword. “It’s ‘faggot’! I have to jot that down before I forget!” He glanced at the oversized ‘ballpoint pen’ he was holding and forced down his thumb on your left ball, pressing it down as if it were a button. You felt a jolt of pleasure and your foreskin rapidly retracted by itself. Just like when you pressed the button of a pen and its tip came out from the opposite end ready to write with ink whenever you wished to use it, at the press of your left testicle your dickhead comes out of your foreskin, your urethra ready to write with precum whenever its owner so desired.
If you had been embarrassed before, by now you were blushing like a tomato. It was one thing to show off your dick to others, you had done it countless times during the showers to your teammates from the college football team before, but having your foreskin forcefully peeled back was on a whole different level of invasion of privacy. The ‘tip’ of your cock felt really chilly. You could felt the cold air around the classroom caress your exposed mushroom head. The wind gently rubbed your glans, laughing at the pitiful thing while it chimed around you in a strange chant.
“Come on, don’t be shy,
let your little friend come out and play...!”
You yelped in agony while Bronson squished and wiggled your sausage unceremoniously just for the selfish intention of using your cum as ink. Still, the huge professor was completely oblivious to your humiliation or the fact that his ‘pen’ was writing with yellowish cum. “I should’ve picked a more visible color.” Bronson muttered to himself, disappointed in the poor functionality of your penis as a writing instrument.
That’s what your genitals were now, a disposable tool. You stared powerless as the man flipped your dick over a few times and his thumb played with your scrotum. He was mirroring the way he played with his pencil (may its deceased stubs rest in pieces) just a few moments ago. You shuddered and resisted the urge to cry out when he nibbled at the pubic hair on your left testicle. When Bronson came across a particularly hard puzzle he placed the erect penis horizontally between his lips and nose, your genitals hanging from his face like a very comical face mask as he assumed a thinking position. Holy shit, if the rest of the class saw this they’d die from laughing. He took a big whiff of your musky scent as if enjoying a fine cigar. The teasing was too much...! He was basically forcing your cock into his masculine face... His short-trimmed beard felt itchy as it brushed against the whole length of your fuck tool, every single brown hair trying its earnest to hug your shaft. He licked his lips, oh fuck! You were about to cum...! Just a little bit more...! The moment his tongue touches your tip you’ll...!
But no dice. Bronson got distracted by a student asking a question about the exam and the huge masculine man let your balls painfully fall off into the desk, your package not being of any use to him for the moment. Your precious manhood would lay still for a few minutes until Bronson needed to write anything else.
“Do you enjoy being manhandled?
Like trash, your pride is disposable.
What a waste, to be used and thrown away.
Nobody will care anyway.”
The wind seemed to be continually blowing around you in mockery... Actually, it didn’t feel like the wind, more like some sort of presence enjoying your distress... Had you heard that voice before...? Hard to tell. It must be just your mind taking advantage of your fearful situation.
“Your manhood beloved, oh it ran away,
so virile, so proud, so tasty!
Shall be enjoyed by everyone, whichever the way,
whenever it gets antsy...!”
...Okay, that was actually unsettling. You never liked poetry, that stuff is for the ugliest of nerds. But then why were you hearing a voice in your head whispering a poem to you? Actually it sounded more like some sort of spell or curse. About your manhood... Running away? Whenever it gets antsy? What the hell did all that mean? Was it related to what was happening to you right now?
But you could only think about your erection. After all that touching and prodding you were on edge. You wanted... No... You NEEDED to jerk off! In your desperation your hands instinctively tried to stimulate your crotch but they only found the insensitive ballpoint pen. It was futile. In your current state only Mr. Bronson could decide whenever your cock felt pleasure or pain.
After a painstakingly long while, Bronson needed a writing tool once again. Bronson slid your leaking urethra on the paper... But after this frustrating wait your urethra had stopped leaking precum, thus rendering it useless as a writing implement. Bronson shock your cock, annoyed. “What the hell is wrong with this thing?” He pressed down harder and harder on the paper, but nothing would come out.
He wiggled your cock in front of the whole class, tapped the tip of your dickhead repeatedly and tried every other trick in the book to make a pen write once again. “C’mon, I know you’re full!”
Of course, you knew he was actually right. Your balls were very full. You had been jerked around for too long. But the way he was treating your junk wasn’t just regular foreplay, you were about to explode! Right here in the classroom! During a math test! All thanks to your own manly teacher...!
“Ah...Ahhh.....Ahhhh!” You could feel it coming.
Wiggins saw you become all red and sweaty. He heard you moaning and wondered what was wrong with you. You ignored his insightful commentary about how stupid you looked.
“Useless piece of shit!” Bronson said as he kept jerking your cock. “Why won’t it come out...” He looked straight into your tip and...
SPLURGE!
Right all over his face! “Ah, fuck!” Bronson exclaimed. From his perspective, his face, his shirt and most of his notes had been ruined by the ink from the exploding pen. But you knew that in reality he was drenched in your seed.
Your classmates were having a blast. Bronson seemed really pissed off about the whole class laughing at his predicament except for you (obviously you were very busy basking in the afterglow at the moment). The weirdest part of it all was experimenting an orgasm with your pants on without ruining your own clothes. It had been an aggressive and forceful handjob, but the amazing orgasm had been worth it.
The time for the math test was up. Your teacher looked at the mess. “Crap... Wiggins, collect the tests, I need to wash my hands first...” He took out a tissue and wiped his face and hands clean. But no matter how he had tried to dry it, his shirt was still extremely dirty from your cum explosion. “Shit, I need to get changed... Didn’t I have a spare shirt on my office, or in the car? Dang, I can’t remember...”
Wiggins picked up your test and he stifled a little when he noticed most of the answers were blank. Bastard. You stood up and quickly thought up some excuse to borrow Bronson’s “pen”. But right when you were coming up to the professor’s desk and about to open your mouth, Wiggins showed up with the pile of collected papers. Bronson was trying to put everything inside his briefcase, including his cum-filled puzzle book, but the thing wouldn’t close up easily. Your teacher sighed and after grabbing the stack of papers with one hand and his briefcase with the other he prepared to leave.
Your cock was there within hand’s reach laying on the desk in all its glory! Finally! You reached out for it and...!
“Derek, stop!” Bronson ordered.
“Uh?” You froze, flabbergasted.
“I’m surprised you want to help me recycle, but that thing is still leaky as hell.“ Your teacher said with a smile and then he picked up your cock and tucked it on his shirt breast pocket. “If you want to help, dispose of this instead.” He gave you the pencil that had broken in two as a consolation prize.
“B-but...!” You stammered, pointing with your finger at your glans saluting you from the top of your professor’s breast pocket.
“You’re worrying about it leaking on me? Don’t worry, my shirt is already ruined! Haha!” He laughed like the sexy man he was.“I’m going to look for a spare now. I’m very amazed how considerate you’re becoming all of a sudden...” He looked at you all over and noticed the obvious bulge the ballpoint pen hanging from your crotch was making. He tried very hard not to stare at the tent in your pants. “...By the way, I heard about you coming out last week. As a fellow gay man, I congratulate you on finding the courage. I know it must have been a hard journey. But believe me, it gets much better.”
Your world was spinning in full force. Woah! Bronson was gay?! How come you hadn’t known this? Is your gaydar wrongly wired or something...?! You always thought he was hot, but you weren’t expecting it at all! A hot bear of a man like that! Damn, if only he knew he had been playing with your cock this whole time...!
Oh, that’s right, your cock!
You woke up from your reverie and realized Bronson was already gone, with your cock close to his heart!
You looked at the broken pencil on your fist. It was like staring into the fate that awaited your penis.
“...Fuck!” You cursed and ran in pursuit of the manly teacher who was completely unaware from the fact that he had just snatched your dick away. Wondering if the day could get any worse, you darted out, leaving the completely empty classroom behind you...
...But, was the classroom actually empty? You couldn’t possibly notice, but a short and pudgy shadow had smiled just before the classroom door had closed behind you...
“...Hehe... Interesting... Another player piece that falls into place... Can I make it even more fun, I wonder?” The chubby figure was bare naked, and was sweaty and panting with lust. Mad, crazy lust. He knew he was just a lowly creature compared to your god-like appearance. He was like a little fly admiring the buttocks of a huge stallion. You could swat him away with your tail, but he’d discretely come back for more again and again. For him, it was that kind of love story.
In fact, this monster had been wanking his small cock since your misfortunes had first started unfolding. Yet nobody had actually been able to see him. It was one of the advantages of being a warlock.
“I warned you, Derek... I’ll keep cursing you and your tasty-looking dick...” The voice of the nerdy fat man was but a small whisper that got mixed with the wind and in the blink of an eye the presence was gone.