"I want Brian to become a sadistic leather bear who loves fisting pigs like me..." Jimmy said, not quite sure whether the words were formed from the haze of his sex and humiliation addled mind, or from the thoughts of his teacher, planted in there as suggestion. Either way, as he said it, he knew it was the truth--and when he looked back at Brian's wide eyes and saw the shock there, he got a secondary bit of glee out of it.
Brian was well known around school as a bit of a crusader. He always had some social justice cause that he was championing, trying to encourage the kids at school to get involved with making the world a better place, with trying to be kinder to one another. The fact that he'd had found such excitement watching Jimmy be reduced from jock to this worthless pig surprised him just as much as it had surprised the rest of the kids in class.
Mr. Smith smiled, "That sounds like a good idea, much to my surprise. I'm amazed your stupid pig brain can even come up with words, but I suppose that on the topic of perverted, filthy sex, you'd have an idea or two. Now class, why don't we break Jimmy the disgusting pig's idea down into its components? Let's start with sadist. Pig, get your fat fucking ass up off the ground, and bend over my desk. Let's see that fat ass of yours."
Jimmy gave a snort of excitement, got up, and bent over the side of the desk, presenting his profile to the remaining students in their chairs, and wiggling his wide, tattooed ass in the direction of Mr. Smith and Brian, who just stood there, gawking at it, unsure of what to do next. He looked over at Mr. Smith and said, "I...I don't want to hurt anyone though, I don't think...I mean..."
"Don't worry, Jimmy is a complete masochist," Mr. Smith said, "The harder he gets hit, the more he enjoys it. Now walk up there, and give that fat ass a good spank, see how it feels."
Brian did as he was instructed, stepped up, and after a moment of hesitation, gave Jimmy a light swat on the ass.
"Harder, Brian, I doubt the pig even felt that."
"But..."
"You're hesitating. Are you afraid everyone at school is going to find out that after all this time preaching about understanding, and peace and love, that deep down, all you really want to do is beat the shit out of someone," Mr. Smith said, stepping up, lowering his voice to a more sinister register. "We all saw how much you enjoyed ruining this fucking piece of shit a second ago. I know how badly you want to let loose inside. Go on, hit him. The animal deserves it, isn't that right, Jimmy?"
"Yes Sir!"
"He deserves it because he's a worthless, disgusting pig, who needs to be shown his proper place, isn't that right, Brian? And who better to show him than you? Now fucking beat that fucking ass."
The next spank was much harder, hard enough that Brian felt a sting in his own hand as he connected with Jimmy's fat rump, and much to his horror, he felt an unmistakable sexual glee as Jimmy gave a loud grunt of discomfort, and then gave a little pant of excitement. Without prompting, Brian pulled his hand back and hit him again, and again, and again, a twisted sneer of delight appearing on his face.
"Try the paddle, it'll hurt your hand less," Mr. Smith said, handing Brian a substantial wooden paddle. Brian's eyes lit up, and he slammed it against Jimmy's ass, making the pig let loose with a proper squeal.
As Brian continued, Mr. Smith turned and addressed the class: "As you can see, a true sadist like Brian gets as much, if not more, sexual satisfaction from inflicting pain on others. There is, of course, a line between ethical sadism and true cruelty, and that line, of course, is consent. Do you consent, you piece of worthless trash?" he said to Jimmy, who squealed with delight. "As you can see, a sadist and a masochist need one another. Their relationship is one of codependence, thought generally a healthy one. There's no one reason why sadists possess their aggressive desires. There are often roots in childhood, roots in past trauma--sexual or otherwise--, or even physical explanations. Brian, give that paddle a rest, and strip down--tell the class why you want to beat the shit out of Jimmy here."
Brian didn't really want to stop, but he did as his teacher instructed, stripped down, and was as surprised as the rest of the class when he saw that the rather average cock he'd had all his life had been replaced by, well, something else without him noticing. "I...I mean..."
"No need to be embarrassed Brian, we're here to discuss your sexual dysfunction."
"I...I really want to fuck, but...but my cock is too small to penetrate," Brian said, face flushing a bit red as he did. Sure enough, he had a cock that was barely an inch long now, though his nuts were substantial, and from the visible wetness, he had been leaking profusely while beating Jimmy's ass with the paddle."
"Exactly. Brian here enjoys humiliating and beating on this pig, because it provides him a way to punish something external to himself, for his own physical flaws. It's a good thing that Brian here is a sadist, because he wouldn't get much in the way of sexual satisfaction through conventional means. Now, let's explore what came next in Jimmy's request. It was...'leather bear' if I recall correctly. Does anyone know the roots of the modern day leather fetish, class?"
None of the students spoke up, which wasn't surprising.
"The look that we know as a leatherman now, really has its roots in the many men who came home from World War Two. Many men who were now adrift in life, looking for direction, used to taking commands from uniformed superiors, many of whom might have discovered the pleasures of other men while abroad. The bear archetype came later, and rose out of the outlaw biker archetype that, you could say, was the leather uniform's shadow. Brian though, I think he's more of a uniform guy, than a biker. You have a good appreciation for a man in uniform, don't you Brian?"
In fact, Brian had very little respect for uniforms at all, whether it was military or police. Much of his activism lately had been focused on pushing back against police brutality. "No..." he said, not quite sure himself, "I mean, I..."
"With a cock that small, and as short as you are," Mr. Smith said, watching the rather tall Brian shrink from his height of six foot two to a much more modest five foot four, "you always wanted to be someone who demanded attention. Who commanded it. What better way than to put on the uniform. Isn't that right, Officer Bruin?"
Brian let out a little moan, as he felt something slither its way around his shorter legs. The clothes he'd shucked off moments before were crawling their way back to him, breaking apart and changing into thick leather. The fabric wound its way around his legs and up his body in a few moments, leaving him clad in a shiny, black leather cop uniform, long sleeve, with gloves and motorcycle boots on his feet.
"Of course, to be a bear, a man needs certain...physical characteristics. Officer Bruin, how old are you?"
"I'm, uh, 53," Brian heard himself say, his voice much deeper and more gruff than it had been before.
"You work out daily of course, but it looks like your age is catching up to you from that gut you're sporting. Still, I suppose it adds to the image, doesn't it class? Go on, look in the mirror Officer, see how confident you look, how confident you feel. Cocky, even," Mr. Smith said, and turned the officer to a mirror that appeared on the wall. Brian, still struggling against the persona welling up inside his mind, stared at the short, chubby muscle bear in the mirror, at the uniform, the clean mustache above his lip, mostly white. He couldn't help but crack a bit of a smirk. He looked impressive. He looked like a man who deserved to be in charge.
"Fuck, I look like a million bucks," Officer Bruin said.
"What do you think, you fucking pig?" Mr. Smith said to Jimmy, who had watched the whole transformation, drooling with desire.
"Fuck, he's fucking hot as fuck," Jimmy said.
Bruin walked over and without a moment of hesitation gave Jimmy a firm slap across his fat face with one gloved hand, then grabbed him by the throat. "You fucking piece of filth, you'll address your superiors properly."
He held him there for a moment before releasing him, and Jimmy, choking slightly, muttered, "He...Sir looks...looks amazing Sir, this pig is honored to serve such a handsome man, Sir..."
"Excellent. Shall we move onto the fisting then?" Mr. Smith said. "Fisting, of course, draws many men to it's pleasures for different reasons. For fisting bottoms, many just feel unsatisfied, or perhaps, unchallenged, by the size of the average man's cock, and are looking for deeper pleasures. Others enjoy the humiliation, knowing that they are allowing another man to warp and wreck a part of his anatomy for his own amusement. This, I feel, would be Jimmy's feelings on the matter, right you stupid fucking pig?"
"Yes Sir," Jimmy said, "I love feeling another man using me like a puppet, and destroying my hole."
"As for fisting tops," Mr. Smith continued, "Fisting offers a level of intimacy with a partner that fucking often can't match. For some though, like Officer Bruin here, it remains the only option, since his cock is too small to fuck anyone anyway. He doesn't mind, of course. Fisting a hole opens up new opportunities to inflict pain, and as already discussed, true sadists like Bruin here don't need to cum to reach a state of sexual euphoria. Bringing their partners to the limits of their pain tolerance, watching they writhe and squirm under their boot, that brings them more pleasure than any orgasm ever could."
Bruin looked down, and saw that his leather gloves had transformed into industrial rubber gloves that reached up past his elbows. He took a paw full of crisco from the can that appeared on the desk, rubbed it all over one of his fists, and began working it into the pig's hole. He knew, intrinsically, how hard to push to cause the pig the most pain without actually harming him. After all, a proper sadist like him never wanted to take one of his toys fully out of commission. Soon, as the class watched, the older bear's fist popped into Jimmy's hole to the wrist, the hog giving a squeal as it did, and the officer started pushing deeper inside him.
As far as Officer Bruin was concerned, Brian was nothing more than a distant memory, barely a memory, even. He'd been the school resource officer at this high school for well over a decade at this point, and it was his pride, and duty, to discipline any troublemakers the teachers brought to his attention. Jimmy, or Hoghole, as Bruin had renamed him, had been one such troublemaker a few years back. He'd gotten into enough trouble that his parents had been forced to turn custody over to the Officer, and he had proceeded to take the rather rebellious youth and twist him into the worthless, pathetic fat castrated pig he was now displaying for the whole class.
Mr. Smith watched the show for a bit, but soon heaved a bit of a sigh. It was hot, yes, but it wasn't...perverse enough. He wasn't showing these seniors the true limits of sexual deviancy yet. "There's one final fetish Officer Bruin offered to demonstrate to the class today. It was pegging, wasn't it?"
Bruin pulled his hand free and looked back the teacher, a bit confused. Had he planned on that?
"See class, Officer Bruin has made peace with his small cock. There is, of course, nothing to be ashamed of--small cocks can bring plenty of pleasure too, just like big ones!--unless you're Hoghole, of course. Some men prefer the act of pegging, instead, which generally involves the use of a strap to hold a dildo against the top's crotch, which they can then use to fuck the bottom instead of their own cock. The officer here of course prefers to wear his over his uniform--it's much hotter that way, right Officer Bruin? Trapping yourself in all that leather, displaying one of your obscene dildos from your waist, an open threat to every disobedient student down the hallway?"
Officer Bruin looked down, and saw the two foot long, inhuman cock strapped to his waist, under his gut. The sight of it, the authority he knew it gave him, the terror it inspired...he stroked it, and while he couldn't feel anything, he shuddered all the same, and felt his puny cock leak in response, encased in his tight leather pants. He lined it up with Hoghole's wrecked ass and drove it in, pounding it hard, driving it deep, the hog squealing and moaning and panting somewhere on the boundary between agony and ecstasy.
"The benefit of pegging, of course, is that you no longer have to be worried about ejaculation. You can fuck for as long as your body holds up, and while the officer might be old, he's perfectly capable of maintaining that speed and power for several hours."
"That's right, you fucking brats," Bruin said, "You'd better fucking behave, or else I'll turn you into a worthless piece of faggot filth like Hoghole here, begging me to abuse you at all hours of the day and night, never feeling fulfilled without me wrecking your fuckhole with my hands and all of my many cocks!" With that, he felt his cock shudder and explode in his pants--but Bruin didn't slow down, he just pushed Hoghole off the desk, the massive pig crashing to the floor, while the smaller officer straddled him and began pile driving the massive cock into his worn out hole.
"Thank you for that demonstration, Officer. Now, if you'll take your pleasures to your office, I'll continue with my lesson here, if you don't object."
Bruin blushed slightly, and hauled his rubber cock free of Hoghole. "Sorry Smith. I get excited, especially when I get to perform. Remember kids, perversion is best. You don't want to end up in my office, after all--unless, I suppose, you do..." he said with a wink. He grabbed hold of Hoghole's leash and dragged his fat pigslave out of the classroom. Mr. Smith eyed the remaining three students, and contemplated what filth to do with them next.
"Let's see...we've discussed exhibitionism with Tommy. Incest, with the help of Bubba and his boys. Humiliation and sadism with Officer Bruin and Hoghole. Next, let's cover...