Black Gratification Part 9

The benefits of my position. A personal office with bedroom attached so I can live on campus. Easy access to the internal ‘secure’ network of Beacon Academy that I have turned to my own whims. A delightfully obedient and eager to please young assistant. And of course, the deputy headmistress of the academy perfectly willing to assure of course it’s perfectly fine for a student to visit my office regularly. She is my assistant after all. It’s only natural she would spend more time with me.

And over this first week she absolutely has spent a great deal of time with me. At first in the classroom to get used to her position as my assistant. And then from that first time after class, she has spent time in my office and my bed adjusting to her position as my personal faunus cocksleeve.

I pay her only a little attention as she kneels between my legs, her ears flopping as her head bobs up and down on my cock. Her soulful eyes stare up at me, begging me to pay her more attention. To appreciate her for her efforts. My hand rests on her head, gently stroking the base of her ears in what could be described as an affectionate gesture. Those big eyes express happiness at the gentle touch, a sign that she isn’t just a set of holes for me to enjoy, that I appreciate her as a person. Or at least that’s how she takes it, even as I use that hand to press her down more insistently, pushing her to take more of my meat into her mouth.

My other hand is otherwise occupied, operating my scroll with a thumb as I look through the interesting files I’ve received. Professors at Beacon have public contact details so students can get in touch if they have issues, whether with assignments, attending classes or other miscellaneous problems. Of course, the teachers are no strangers to students using those contact details for less intended purposes. In other words, to mess with the staff. Though I will say, it’s probably not that often that a professor would receive quite this many illicit pictures from students. Velvet’s perk got to work quickly, it seems. Thankfully I more or less own Beacon’s digital security at this point so I can decide which messages are catalogued as sent and received by the system, letting me enjoy all of the wonderful material these foolish girls send me.

“Oh my,” I say aloud as I browse through it all. Velvet, perhaps unsurprisingly given how much of a shutterbug she is, has sent the most by far. “You’re quite shameless aren’t you, Miss Scarlatina?” It looks as though she had an entire private photo shoot in her dorm bathroom. Multiple even. The first few are on the more tame side, pulling up her top to flash a quick picture of her breasts, flipping up her skirt to snap her panties. But I suppose it didn’t take her long to remember I bent her over my desk and deflowered her because there were only a handful of such simple shots. After those it was picture after picture of her playing with herself. Masturbating manually, with a dildo, a vibrator, sucking her juices off of them afterwards, teasing her asshole with them but never inserting. The implication being she wants me to go there first before anything else does. “Do your team know you’re this debauched?”

“You made me this way, sir,” she complains, using her tongue to worship my cock.

I shake my head disappointedly. “I find that hard to believe, Miss Scarlatina.” I turn the screen translucent so she can see the image from her side. A picture from between her legs as she masturbates with a dildo while groping her breast. “To think you would sink to such depravity after only a single week in my presence. What would your team think?”

“Please don’t show them!” she begs, even as the hand she has working under her skirt speeds up its movement.

“Well,” I give the appearance of thinking it over, “I suppose it would be crass to ruin your reputation like that.” I sigh as though I’m making some deep sacrifice. “I suppose we can keep this between us. So long as you continue to be a good girl, of course.”

She shivers, happily slurping my cock back into her mouth to prove her intentions to be just that. A good girl who sucks her professor’s cock.

“Besides, it would be improper to judge you too harshly,” I note idly as I go back to flicking through pictures, not bothering to turn it back to the opaque setting so she can still see. “You certainly aren’t alone in being so shameless.” Ruby in her underwear, Dove pulling her panties aside to show her pussy. That one had a thank you note for not failing her during initiation. “And then this one,” I sound impressed as I move on to the next girl’s set of pictures. “This one seems to even rival your efforts.”

-(-)-

Blake had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it. Stood in the RWBY dorm’s adjoining bathroom wit her scroll in her hand, dressed only in her underwear. What was she even thinking? Sure, he’d helped her hide away from Auburn, sure he’d gotten her to talk to her mom again, let her let go of guilt and regret she’d held on to for years, sure she felt safe around him, felt comfort around him.

But why did that lead her thoughts to this?! Maybe she just wanted to feel a little in control again, to do something for herself again. After feeling like Auburn’s tool for her to vent her anger on humans, and yes after meeting the professor and him guiding her toward her current path. She felt like she was just following set directions, letting everyone push her along in directions they thought she should go. Well, none of them would think she should do this.

Even so...

She stared at her scroll, then at her reflection in the mirror. Carefully, she pulled one cup of her bra aside to reveal a stiffened nipple, raised her scroll and snapped a picture.

Naturally, this was the moment someone opened the door. She scrambled like a cat that woke up slipping off its preferred sleeping spot, one hand reaching to fix her bra so hurriedly she accidentally ripped the strap. “Damn!”

“Hey Blake are you almoooo...” Yang’s question trailed off as she took in the scene, quickly closing the door behind her. Her eyes flicked up to the cat ears on the golden-eyed girl’s head. “... st done.” Then her eyes travelled to the much more interesting thing. The scroll in the faunus’ hand and her state of undress. “Oh man, are you taking sexy pictures?!”

“You can’t tell anyone!” the faunus quickly insisted.

“Well duh. You wanna take sexy pictures it’s nobody’s business but yours and whoever you wanna send ‘em to.”

“Not that,” Blake corrected. “Wait. Also that. But I mean,” pointing to her ears, “That!”

“Oh,” the blonde bombshell frowned. “Well, okay. I don’t really get why but... Whatever, show me pictures!” she returned to the thing she actually cared about, grabbing the scroll from the other girl’s hand. “Oh. Huh. You’re kind of new at this, huh?”

“I never felt any kind of desire to do it before,” the faunus admitted sheepishly.

“Well don’t you worry, Blake!” Yang cheered her, “Big sis Yang is practically a pro at this. First things first, you’re standing in front of a mirror for a reason,” the blonde lectured. “If you take the picture of the reflection it lets you compose the shot better on the fly and get angles that’d be tricky otherwise. Here, check this out.” She pulled out her own scroll and within three seconds had a picture that was far more appealing than the awkwardness of Blake’s without even having to show anything off. “See? Now you try.”

If there was one thing Blake could appreciate about Yang, it was just how eager she was to help people out in her own special way. She had a spirit that could be kind of infectious. So swept up in that zeal, Blake followed Yang’s advice, doing the same thing she saw the more boisterous girl do. The results spoke for themselves. “Wow.” She looked good. Still awkward but the lack of a distracted strain trying to figure out the right angle helped immensely.

“See? Way better?” Yang praised, leaning over her shoulder. “Oh! I didn’t even notice your strap is broken. Let’s work with that! Let that side of it slip to show some of the goods.”

“Wouldn’t that look kind of... I don’t know... sloppy?” the faunus asked.

“Trust me, the dishevelled, distressed look can work wonders.”

“Alright...” Blake trusted in the advice of the more experienced girl, adjusted her bra so it as hanging lower, let the cup hang loose with the broken strap. Took the shot. “... Okay. You were right,” she offered a conciliatory smile.

“That’s right, trust in the wisdom of big sis Yang,” the blonde nodded sagely. “I actually have a bunch of torn clothes that I keep pretty much just for pictures like that. A pair of pants that’s just straight up missing the crotch. Those, with no panties? One of the top five pictures I’ve ever taken. You wanna do some more?”

“... Yeah. That sounds fun.”

It turned out to be quite a bit of fun. A half hour bonding experience Blake never imagined she would have with anyone. To find common ground over something that had been so alien to her until the whim took her. But she found she enjoyed herself, Yang egging her on to be more and more daring. First topless, then nude with creative censoring, then giving up the pretense and just taking full nude pictures, even one with her legs and lips spread for the camera. How Yang talked her into that one she couldn’t even remember. She wasn’t even sure Yang had, that she hadn’t just decided to do it on her own for being so in the moment.

She had pep in her step as she finally left the bathroom fully dressed, an irritated Weiss shoving past her as she came out the door. She didn’t dare look at the pictures again until she was sure no one was looking at her, a full, red blush taking over her face as she looked through them. She looked beautiful. She looked sexy. She felt sexy.

They went... Way further than anything she wanted to send the professor though. This went well past cheeky and moved on into a full-blown invitation. She couldn’t do that.

... Could she?

A terrifying, gleeful whim snuck up on her then. Every picture fed into a folder, attached to a message to Professor Moriarty’s address. It wasn’t thoughtless. There was a thrilling moment of clarity as she realised exactly what she was about to do as she stared at the send button.

Even her inner thoughts telling her what a bad idea this was seemed to do so with a girlish giggle. That it would be so bad.

Her scroll beeped as her thumb hit send, her whole body curling into a ball as she wore a huge, embarrassed grin. She sent them! All of those pictures! Even the one with her holding–! The heat she felt then was like nothing she ever experienced before. She had never wanted to touch herself more in her entire life!

-(-)-

“I like the creativity of this one,” I tell Velvet as I look at a particular one of Blake’s pictures. A full body shot, but one in which she manages to censor her nipples and nethers with a single finger. “I suppose one never can tell the limits of ingenuity.” I scroll through more pictures, barely even pretending to hide my glee at Blake’s lascivious deeds as the pictures get more and more lewd. “Oh my!” I get to the picture of her spreading her pussy for the camera, actively making my cock twitch and pulse so that Velvet can feel it. “That certainly is something! To think, these wilful girls trying so hard to get my attention. What am I to do?”

It doesn’t take long to get the reaction I’m looking for from Velvet as she pushes herself further down my shaft without any prompting from me. All of a sudden, for some inexplicable reason she seems to decide she needs to work harder at pleasing me. Can’t imagine what might have inspired that.

“Oh, Velvet!” I speak, feigning surprise. “My apologies my dear. It seems I managed to get myself distracted. Terribly rude of me.”

The hurt in her eyes is both terrible and beautiful to watch. Her lips drag back along my cock as her tongue dances back and forth until she pulls all the way off. Her hands wrapping around to jerk it. “That’s okay, sir,” she lies. “Is... Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” The words are a question. The tone is a plea.

Poor thing. Bent over in days. Broken in a week.

What might be the defining thing about Velvet Scarlatina is that she’s quite a passive person. She doesn’t particularly have much drive of her own. A follower. A herbivore, if you will. Ugh, that was terrible. Rabbit jokes are beneath me.

In any case. She’s rather passive. When trapped by confrontation, she begs, waiting for it to stop. When given an instruction, she follows it, trusting other people to know what’s best. When shown that others are now competing for attention she desperately craves? She won’t confront those people she’s competing with, even the weak ones. She abhors confrontation. Instead, she would rather turn that attention inward. If someone is managing to compete with her, what is she doing wrong? What could she do better? What isn’t she doing to contribute? It’s easier for her to push herself than to push others.

So when I show her the kind of competition she’s dealing with, she can find no other path than to do more. And to her mind, the best way to find out what more she could do is to ask. To cede more control to me, trusting I know what’s best. And of course, I do.

“You’re quite flexible, aren’t you?” I ask, standing from my desk chair.

“Yes sir! I have to be!” she announces proudly, smiling up at me as she realises I have something in mind.

“Good. Strip down, would you please.”

Eager isn’t a sufficient word for how excited she is by the prospect of getting naked for me. It has always led to a pleasurable time for her. The buttons of her blazer and blouse fly open, her skirt and sodden panties drop to pool on the floor. Her bra unhooked and shrugged off. The only things that stay on are her thigh-highs. She has learned that unless instructed otherwise she is to leave those one. Not usually something that appeals to me but on her they’re worth keeping. Otherwise nude, she steps out of her skirt and stands with her hands behind her back, awaiting further instructions with a smile. Of course she’s happy. All of my attention is on her again, just like she wanted.

“Such a good girl,” I praise her, stroking her cheek. She shudders, a heat rising to her uncovered skin. “Remember to hold on to me.” That’s all the warning she gets before I pick her up by her thighs then flip her over.

Panicking ever so slightly, she grabs onto my legs as I hold her by shoulder and breast. Her legs wrap around the back of my neck. With that movement, she finds herself staring down my cock once again while I’m getting an up close view of her soaked pussy. “I think you know what I want from you, don’t you?”

“Yes sir!” she carefully adjusts herself to make sure she won’t fall, realising I have a firm grip on her, before she wraps her lips around my cock again. At the same time, my tongue starts tracing her womanhood. Normally I wouldn’t care, but her adoration of me is amusing and I would like it to continue. “Mm,” she moans slightly, appreciating the reciprocation. “Mm-glrk!” Right up until I use this position to thrust my hips against her face. “Glrk-glrk-glrk!” Even as I bury my tongue in her cunt, my cock is driving deeper and deeper into her throat, leaving her to choke on it with nowhere to go. My hand mauls the breast I’m holding her by, roughly pulling at the soft flesh as I put her through a throatfucking sixty-nine. Gravity and my hips forcing her to swallow more cockmeat than she could reasonably handle.

And even now, she only seems to be getting off on the harsh treatment, her pussy convulsing against my tongue. I won’t pretend I’ve ever been nice to Velvet during sex. Her body is desirable. Her innocence is delectable. I’m finding the great joy in my time spent with her is just how willing she is to be degraded as a fuck pet, all while retaining that wide-eyed innocence. To be perfectly honest, I have yet to decide whether I’ll keep her or discard her and much of that indecision is down to those big brown eyes staring up at me as I feed my cock into one of her holes.

The only downside of this position would be knowing when Velvet needs air, or when I should give her room to breathe. But with this only being the final act of our rendezvous after a more standard and lengthy blowjob, it isn’t long before I drive deep into her throat and pump jets of cum into her gullet.

But, with her being upside-down, there’s only one direction it wants to go. She coughs and sputters around my meat as cum continues to flood through her mouth and nose.

I pull her legs free from my head as I gently lower her back to the ground, letting her slide off of my cock again and clear her airway. She coughs a wad of cum onto the floor as the head passes her lips. Her forehead is painted in lines from her running make-up, the rest of her face a mess of smeared white ejaculate and spit. “Did–” she coughs again, “Did I do well, sir?”

“You did very well,” I praise her. “Remember what you need to do now?”

“Oh! Yes sir!” she nods, as I sit back down. Velvet follows me to lick me clean.

“Remember to clean up your mess on the floor as well.”

“Of courshe!” she slurs as she gives my cock a thorough tongue bath.

“Good girl,” I say disinterestedly. I don’t make any show of ignoring her anymore. She’s probably feeling thrilled about her performance, telling herself no one else could beat that. I just sit back and relax watching my bunny slut tidy things up. Once she’s done with me, she slips my cock back into my pants without me needing to ask before getting to work cleaning the sloppy mess on the floor, both from her masturbating and her throatfuck.

My head tilts as I watch her work naked. A thought occurs. Maid costume? Maybe. Also not usually my thing but I’m discovering a great number of ideas with potential I hadn’t considered before. Hm. Even if I don’t keep her, bunny faunus slutty maid is sure to be a crowd pleaser. Thoughts for later.

“Goodnight, professor!” she chirps before leaving my office, her face clean, her smile bright, no evidence of her degradation in sight.

Hm. Well, I’m rather done with her for the time being. She’s a convenient outlet but I really should get to work on someone else. Now who to choose–

Before I can follow up on that thought, my scroll rings. Probably a student. Maybe Glynda.

Or... Watts, as the display says. Even though he isn’t one of my contacts. Urgh, this is going to be unpleasant. “Arthur!” I put false enthusiasm into my voice, “What can I do for you?”

“Hello, James!” he greets, equally enthusiastic, less false. “I just thought I’d call to check in! And to congratulate you of course! Only a week and you’ve already made so much progress! I showed her the pictures your students have been sending. She’s already quite impressed!”

“Well... Thank you,” I say, far more guarded. “I thought I secured my system.”

He laughs. “James, I wrote the system. You might have adopted my means old bean but you can’t beat the master.”

“I suppose not.” At least not yet. Wait, no, that’s stupid. Why would I want to try to beat him at his own game when I could just avoid it altogether? “Er, was there anything else you needed? I was just about to–”

“No. Just wanted to congratulate you. Oh, and of course to catch up. We had so little time to talk at all when you were at the castle and I was wondering if I might pick your brain on a few matters.”

Ugh. This is going to be my entire evening, isn’t it? This is why you never let fans have your personal details.