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Welcome to a very inciteful commission involving some painal and manipulation. All the fun at the fair. If you enjoy what this beholds, I'm always taking limitless commissions. I write everything. Try me if ya wanna. Info's in my bio.
What could the Professor want with me? What could I have done? I thought my performance has greatly improved. What more could I improve on? Unless, I’m deluding myself. What if I’m just manipulating myself into believing that I’m getting better? What if I’m just getting worse? That must be it.

I make it to his office doors, but before I can open them, I get a sense of dread, overtaking my body. I’ve promised him that I’d vastly and relentlessly work on my skill. If this is truly the case, surely, he’ll be upset with me. How could I even bring myself to face him?

No. No. This is just what comes with the territory. If I’m to hone my craft, I need to get feedback on how to do so. That’s all that this should be, right? Sure, he’ll be upset, but only to make me better. That’s it. Just remember. That’s all it is. I take a breath before opening the doors, revealing the professor sitting at his desk.

“Ah, Edelgard,” he starts, “Glad you could make it.”

“P-professor,” I greet back, trying to calm my nerves.

I step inside, standing in front of his desk.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you in today.”

I don’t answer. I’m so crushed by the anticipation, I can’t formulate a coherent thought.

“Well,” he continues, “Let me refresh your memory on something first, if you don’t mind.”

Oh no. He clears his throat before quoting,

“‘Edelgard, that performance was subpar at best. I know for a fact that you can do better than that. What happened?’ And what did you say to that?”

“I-...I...” is all I can utter,

“What. Did. You. Say?”

“That...that I would do better, professor.”

“That you would do better. That come next evaluation, you’d make me forget about that mediocre display of your ability. That you’d make me proud. Well, look me in the eye, Edelgard. Does this look like the face of someone who’s proud of you?”

“, sir.”

I try fighting back the tears from his words. How could I be so foolish? Why would I think for a single second that that would’ve exceeded his expectations?

“That’s what I thought,” he says, straightening the papers on his desk, “You know what these are?”

“N-no, sir.”

“These are expultion papers. The board was invited by me personally because I thought that our last conversation on the matter was enough motivation to really bring out your potential. I wanted to treat them to the sight of what you could really do. But after that performance, my word has been tarnished. And I feel that drastic measures have to be taken. With your lack of self improvement for this long, I fail to see any reason for you to continue your attendance, not only in my class, but in this school. It pains me more than you know, but time is valuable. And if you’re intent to waste it, I’m afraid I’ll have to let you go.”

My heart immediately sinks to my stomach. My breath escapes my body. My very being feels like it’s being ripped to shreds. No. No. Please. Please tell me this isn’t real. Please tell me I’m just dreaming. This can’t be happening.

“I’m sorry, Edelgard,” he says, picking up a pen, “But you’re leaving me with no other option.”

He then brings the pen closer to the paper to sign it. The closer it gets, the more pained I feel. This school is my life. What have I done? It can’t end like this. I can’t let it end like this.

“W-WAIT!” I interrupt, gathering his attention, “Please, please don’t do this. I beg of you. This is everything to me. I can’t just let it slip through my fingers like this. Please, professor, please don’t give up on me like this.”

“Edelgard,” he starts, “Trust me, I’m aware of what this school means to you. Really, I do. But your actions don’t reflect what you’re telling me right now. So my hands are tied.”

“Please, professor, this is my life. I’ll do anything. I know it may not seem like much, but I’ll improve. I swear. As a matter of fact, give me thre- no. Two days. In just two days, I’ll make you so proud. I’ll show how serious I am. Please, professor, just give m-”

He interrupts me by raising his hand, lowering his head and closing his eyes. Moments pass and he doesn’t move an inch. he actually considering my offer? Please tell me I’m still in this. Please, any deity above listening to my plea. Someone. Anyone. Just let me stay. I won’t let this go. I will give my life if need be.

“You know what?” professor starts, “You won’t need three days to convince me. You won’t need two days. Not even a single day. You won’t even need the rest of today.”

Umm...ok. Ok. I’ll take it. Thank you, deity. Thank you.

“Ok,” I respond, “Anything. What do I need to do? Like I said, I’ll do anything you wish. Whatever you desire, conside-”

“Shh,” he interrupts again, “Settle down. Your attendance is on the line. Now, as stated, your issue is your lack of display of physical drive. So you’re going to prove me wrong.”


He stands up from his desk, revealing some rope that he’s grabbed. He then walks over to me, standing right in front of me, saying,

“Give me your wrists.”

I comply, hesitantly presenting both of my wrists to him. He then roughly ties the rope around them, binding them together.

“Now, as you know,” he starts, “This school teaches everything you need for self defense. With how long you’ve been attending, surely, something like this should be child’s play. So I will simulate the scenario where you’re captured. If you escape, you can continue your attendance for a bit longer. Should you fail, you’re to walk right out that door and never return.”

Before I can voice my thoughts on the proposal, I’m forced onto my knees on the floor. He then brings his hand to my hair, gently stroking it. He then guides his hand from my hair to my face. I’m so confused. Why is he doing this? Why was this the idea that he had? Whatever. I don’t care. This is my only chance to stay in this school.

But as I try to find my way out of this, his hand creeps to the back of my head and pushes my face into his crotch. I’m immediately taken aback by this. What is he doing?

“Professor, wh-wh-” I start before being interrupted with,

“Shut up! I’ve presented you with my offer. Either take it or leave it. The door is right there.”

This is completely inappropriate. Professors shouldn’t be allowed to do this. But I can’t jeopardize my only chance to stay here. So all I can do is just concede to his order.

“That’s what I thought,” he punctuates, bringing his hand to the waistband of his pants, “But remember our agreement. Either you get out of this or you’re out of here.”

“Y-yes, sir,” is all I can manage to say,

“Good girl.”

He pulls down his pants along with his briefs, exposing his long hard shaft. He then grabs onto it with his free hand, brushing it along my face, chuckling in the process. It smells so weird. I don’t know how to feel about it. I can’t even think straight.

And before I even fully grasp what’s going on, he forces my mouth onto the head of his cock, taking me by surprise. He forces half of his cock down my throat, groaning in pleasure before bobbing my head up and down his length. All I can do is look up at him as I’m forced to take him in my throat.

I hate this. How am I supposed to focus on a way out of this with him making me do something so terrible? However I’m supposed to, I need to do it quickly. I can barely breathe and it tastes worse than it smells.

I try maneuvering my hands around to attempt to untie the rope, but the laces are just slightly out of my reach. But I have to keep trying. I can’t quit. I don’t have a choice.

He continues guiding my head up and down the length of his cock, groaning more and more with each descent.

“Yeah,” he says in between groans, “Such a good girl. You really want this school, don’t you? You can’t stand the thought of leaving, right? Then earn your right, you fucking slut. Earn your right to stay here.”

His words are not only hurting me, but they’re making me feel dirty. Why would he say something so demeaning? That’s not the professor I know. Who is he?

Minutes pass of me trying to grab onto my only means of freedom, while also trying not to pass out from lack of air in my lungs. But I’m failing at both. And the latter is making it that much worse for me. I can feel the strength leaving my body the more this goes on.

He then makes it worse by holding my head in place and thrusting his hips back and forth, poking his cock in and out of my throat even faster than he was bobbing my head. I can’t even concentrate with this going on. Please, make this stop.

And after moments of violating my throat, my prayers are finally answered. He slowly stops raping my throat, pulling me off of him. Once he’s out of my mouth, I immediately start taking in new air that my lungs have been craving all this time, coughing in the process. But before I can compose myself, he grabs my hair and pulls me to my feet, making me yell out in pain. He then turns me around and bends me over his desk. I then feel his hand on my behind, gently rubbing it before swatting it, making me cry out in discomfort.

“Your captors will show no mercy, Edelgard,” he says, giving me another swat, “If you were in this situation, it would probably be in your best interest to find a solution as soon as possible.”

He chuckles before giving me another swat that’s harder than the other two. He’s right. I need to get out of this. I hate everything about this. But How could I possibly find a way out of these stupid ropes?

My internal questioning is interrupted as I hear something. It sounds like the tearing of fabric. After a few sounds of the tearing, there’s an intense tearing sound, followed by the feeling of cool air on my bare behind. He just ripped my leggings. Why?

“My, my,” he says, rubbing my bare flesh, “You are quite a sight for sore eyes, aren’t you, Edelgard?”

The more he speaks to me, the dirtier I feel. How could he do these things to me? Why? Why is this happening? What did I do?

I feel his hands on my behind, gently spreading it open, presenting my anus to him, making me embarrassed beyond belief. But that embarrassment quickly switches to pain as I feel him pressing his thick cock against my virgin hole. I cry out in agony as he tries pushing inside of me. But something tells me that he’s actually enjoying my sounds of suffering.

After moments of trying, he slides the tip inside of my anus. He then grabs onto my hips before thrusting himself further inside of me. This hurts more than anything I’ve experienced.

“O-ok, ok, Professor, please, take it out,” I plead, crying in anguish as he thrusts in and out of me, “Please, stop. It hurts. I’m sorry. Just take it out. I don’t like this. I can’t take it.”

But my words are falling on deaf ears. He’s just shoving more and more of his cock inside of me. This is just pure torture. I need to get out of this rope. I try forcing my wrists apart to break it. But all it’s doing is making the knot tighter.

“Struggling only makes it worse, you dumb bitch,” he taunts, “You would’ve known that if you paid attention in class.”

He speeds up his thrusts, pounding my behind even harder. He then brings my leg on his desk, reaching deeper inside of my rectum. I can’t take this. I need to find something to break this thing. I scan the desk, trying to find something to cut this stupid fucking rope.

But I’m interrupted by the feeling of his hand on my hair, pulling me back, making me yell out in pain again.

“What’s wrong, Edelgard?” he taunts, “Surely, your desire to want to go to this school is stronger than this. What happened to you needing this school? What happened to this school being everything you have? You’re not exactly displaying that right now. If anything, you’re displaying exactly what you’ve been showing throughout your time being here. You’re all talk. And in the end, you’re just showing that you’re just a failure. Either that or you enjoy having me violate you like this.”

Soon after he says that, I feel something on my face traveling to my chin. Then a similar feeling is felt on the other side of my face. They’re...They’re my tears. I’m crying. And he’s the cause. He’s making me cry. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever think that Professor would make me spill my own tears.

He then pushes me down on the desk, forcing my face into it as he continues violating me, thrusting harder and faster than before. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

But after a few more thrusts, my worst fears come to fruition. I feel his warm, sticky, grotesque essence spilling inside of my anal cavity, filling me to the brim. All I can do is lie in defeat as he empties his sperm deep inside of me. He chuckles before pulling out and shooting the rest on my back. He takes a moment to catch his breath, while getting dressed and saying,

“Well, unsurprisingly, you failed. And per our agreement, from this day forth, you’re no longer a member of Officers Academy. However, after seeing your true skill, maybe I’ve been focusing on the wrong aspects of your potential. So I offer you this, you may attend here under the decree that you provide your wonderful...talents to me at least three times a week. You don’t have to give me an answer now. I’m not an impatient man. You have the weekend to think it over. Until then, I look forward to our next encounter.”

I just lie on the table. Broken. Confused. Used. Disappointed. Pained. But most notably, hurt. How could this happen? This was someone I’m supposed to trust with my life. And he betrayed me. How could he do this to me?
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