My freshly moistened dick swung freely between my legs as I stepped back out into the hallway. It occured to me that the bell really should have rung at some point since I’d entered the building – I spent well over a half hour tormenting the girls in the last classroom, and I’d spent a good amount of time wandering the halls before that. A double period, maybe? I had thought it might be fun to simply wait in the middle of the hall as all the girls trickled out of their classrooms. I could picture the wide-eyed stares and bashful muttering, the gasps of surprise and arousal; how long would it take them before they started flowing around me, just trying to get to their next class? Would they ever? For most girls, an encounter with the Cumlord was the chance of a lifetime. Any girl whom I saw fit to wrap around my dick usually took on near celebrity status. Those who I impregnated might as well have been royalty. There’s no greater flattery than for a girl to be told in a physical sense that she was worthy of nurturing my seed. Most places I went girls were quite literally falling at my feet just to get a chance to be near me. But De Sade was also an all-girls secondary school, which presumably put a lot of pressure on the students to get to class on time. These girls were young, and trivial things like school and work seemed like much bigger responsibilities. Maybe some of them would decide they couldn’t afford to miss class. Other might join in and start walking around me. I’d just be standing in the middle of a tide of petite, bustling schoolgirls, cock erect and brushing against their soft clothes and softer skin. They would flow around me like a stream around a rock, and I could reach out and grab any of them with a quick snatch. Just reach out, and…

I quickly snapped myself out my daydream, and realized a bead of drool had rolled out the corner of my mouth, along with a drop of precum from my once more rigid dick. Why waste my time fantasizing when the real thing was within spitting distance in any direction? I’d gotten myself worked up again, and my cock throbbed angrily. There wasn’t the same feverish need to rut as there had been in Beth’s classroom. This time I felt a calmer, but somewhat crueler drive. I wanted to hurt someone. Humiliate someone. Dominate someone. Whirling on my heels, I picked a direction at random and strode forward. My pace took me down several hallways, loudly stomping past several classrooms along the way. My decision was arbitrary, as I finally stopped in front of a door labelled “Freshman – 2A”. It occurred to me that I hadn’t noticed any kind of sign on the classroom I had just finished up in. I’d barely been watching where I was going, so I wouldn’t be able to backtrack easily. A pity – Beth had given me some fun, and it would be something of a hassle if I wanted to check up on her pregnancy in the near future. Oh well, there was quite an easy solution. If I had trouble finding Beth again, I could always just knock up a few more of her classmates. I grinned evilly to myself as I stormed through the door.

This time I didn’t waste any time perusing the goods. As soon as I stepped in the room, I loudly barked an order to all the girls whom I had startled on my entry.

“All of you, drop what you’re doing. I want to see every last one of you standing in a line against that wall. Hands behind your back, chest out, chin up. Yes, that means you too, Teach.” I glanced sharply at the dumbfounded woman whose arm was still raised to the chalkboard. She faltered a little, dusting off her hands, then submissively walked over to join the gathering gaggle of girls who had jumped out of their desks to flock towards the wall.

They all assumed the position I asked of them, thrusting their ripe, developing chests forward like show dogs at a competition. I chuckled at that thought – there was more truth to the analogy than they likely understood. I now took a brief moment to survey the line of buxom youths standing at attention before me. A decent number of girls, probably in the neighbourhood of eighteen to twenty, all stood stock still, chests quivering in anticipation of my next order. The girls here seemed to average about the same age as those whom I had just visited, which confirmed my suspicion that Beth and her classmates had been Freshmen. This was another selection of fresh meat standing here before me, and I intended to get a broad sample. Their heights varied significantly, not surprising for a group of teens still in the throes of puberty. Many girls sprouted younger than boys, grew quickly, then levelled out. Others were late bloomers, and some would never grow very much at all. There were definitely a few girls who were markedly smaller than their classmates, and I made a mental note to give them some attention later on. Smaller ones are easier to toss around, after all.

I decided to take a systematic approach to this class. Starting at one end of the lineup, I approached a timid little thing – barely 5′, if that – whose sandy blonde hair rolled off her shoulders. She was wearing a sunshine yellow cotton blouse over a tight pair of dark blue jeans. I lifted her chin so she was making eye contact with me and spoke to the room at large:

“I’m going to visit each one of you individually. When I approach you, you will tell me your name, age, cup size, and whether or not your hymen is intact. You are also…” I paused briefly, reached forward to the top of the short girl’s blouse, and undid her top button, exposing more of her modest chest. “To lift your shirts enough that you expose your chest. You may leave your bras on if you’re wearing them. I will then conduct a physical inspection to a degree that I deem appropriate. I may ask you more questions as I do so, and I expect complete and truthful answers to each one. Is this understood?”

A chorus of mumbling, a few scattered shouts of “Yes, sir!”, and lots of silent, nervous nodding. The girl in front of me did nothing at first, but jumped when she realized I was staring at her expectantly. She began fumbling with the rest of her blouse buttons as she began to speak.

“I-I’m Kelsey Barrow, sir. Fourteen years old, B cup, and I’m not sure, sir. I’ve never, um…” She blushed louder than she spoke, and continued in a whisper, “I’ve never had sex, and I don’t put anything… up there, when I…” Her voice broke.

“When you masturbate.” I finished for her. She nodded, eyes clamped shut in embarrassment. He blouse was undone now, and she stood exposed, blushing head to toe. Beneath she wore a soft white cotton bra; not particularly erotic, but it emphasized her freshly blooming breasts quite nicely. There was an innocence to her that demanded to be soiled. My cock, which had wilted slightly while organizing the girls, quickly grew back to its full length at the treat before me. Kelsey chanced to open her eyes, just briefly enough to see my swollen head, drooling precum, staring her squarely in the face. She snapped her eyes closed again, and somehow blushed even harder than before.

“How often do you touch yourself, Kelsey?” I asked the timid girl. She took a moment to reply, and when she did so she spoke quietly, keeping her eyes closed.

“Um… E-every…”

“Louder Kelsey, your classmates can’t hear you. This isn’t just for my benefit, you know.”

“Every night!” She suddenly shouted, and her volume surprised even herself. “I touch myself every night. I don’t always cum, but I can’t go to sleep unless I’ve been rubbing myself for ten minutes at least.”

I grinned at her, and when she opened her eyes she gave a tentative smile back.

“There, was that so hard?” I stroked her cheek, which made her let out a faint coo of surprise. Then, abruptly, I stepped to the side to face the next girl in line.

“Dana Ross, sir!” She piped up before I even had a chance to address her, “Fourteen years old. C cup, but growing fast! I lost my hymen horseback riding, but I’m still a virgin, I promise!”

Her voice was speeding out of her as though she was afraid she had to get it all out before I moved on. As soon as she finished speaking, she took a deep breath, thrust her burgeoning chest forward and yanked down her tank-top with both hands. Two lovely, pale globes of pert teenage flesh wobbled out in front of her, and as she had grabbed her bra too, her nipples stood stiff and upright from where they sat on the top of her boobs. It seemed she hadn’t meant to remove her bra too, as she quickly became flushed and her knuckles whitened in embarrassment. She kept her top down though, in direct defiance of the shame that must have been washing over her.

“Well, now,” I said to her, “Enthusiasm like this deserves to be rewarded.”

I stopped down, lowering my head to her chest, cupped one of her tits firmly in one hand, and flicked my tongue briefly over her hardened nipple. She let out several sharp, pointed squeals as I did so. She clearly had to try very hard to stop herself from squirming out of my grip. Pleased with her resolve, and wanting to begin playing with the girls more directly, I stood and gripped my cock. I pulled gently on the back of her head, guiding her lips towards me, and her eyes flashed nervously between my face and the swollen head in front of her. I prodded her lips with the tip, and slowly pushed through her velvet mouth as she cautiously opened her jaw for me. I eased myself gently back and forth a few times, not wanting to get too enthusiastic just yet. She moaned softly around me as she got used to the sensation of me filling her mouth, and when I pulled myself out a string of drool swung from her lips, connecting her to my cock. I gave her a firm pat on her reddened cheek and moved over to the next girl.

I continued on like this for a good majority of the line-up. For many I felt their breasts, for some I gave a couple light thrusts into their mouths, and for a few I reached into their pants and fingered them lightly while they gave me the information I’d asked for:

“Francine Selmey, just turned fifteen. B cup. I had sex once, sir.”

“Lacey Richter, sir. Fourteen, but I turn fifteen in a week. D cup. Yes, really, see the tag? *giggle* Here, get a closer look. I haven’t been a virgin for a couple of years now, but I guarantee I’ll still feel like one.”

“Um, I-I’m Kara Johnson… M-master. Fourteen years old. I’m just a-an A-cup, I’m sorry. I’ve never touched myself before, let alone had… y’know. S-sex.”

“My name’s Jacqueline Walker, I just turned f-OH! Oh fuck, master. Your fingers are so big! I-I’m *ahem* I’m fifteen last Spring, fuck, um… Hooo god, that feels so good. Mmm, no, please keep going Lord! I’m a C-cup, and I, uh… I’ve never had sex, but I broke- *gasp* …b-broke my hymen with a dildo my aunt got me.”

When I reached the end of the line, I was face to face with the teacher, a woman who seemed to be in her mid 30s – lean and in reasonably good shape, but somewhat frumpy, with a bookish look to her.

“You, go sit in your chair and touch yourself until I leave.If the mood strikes me I might let you climax later on.” She nodded quickly and shuffled back to her seat, her head held low.

Turning back to the crowd of aroused, nubile girls, I gestured for them to all gather around me.

“I assume you all have a phone of some sort?” They all nodded, and took out their cellphones.

“I’ve taken a liking to you girls. From now on, you all are going to be my personal representatives here at this school. I’m going to give you all a number. This will be the number to one of my personal phones. Whenever inspiration strikes you, I want you all to send me the sluttiest pictures, videos and messages you can think of, in the most creative ways possible. Consider this your priority school assignment. Feel free to get adventurous with it: messages written across students’ tits; exposed pussies stacked ten high; a pep rally dedicated to my cock – whatever strikes your interest. I want at least one update every day, preferably more. There are 18 of you here, so that shouldn’t be too challenging. Get the rest of the school involved as much as you can, but don’t be afraid to do a smaller group project for me on your own as well.”

As I spoke, and gave the girls my number, they all broke out in excited giggling, nudging each other and whispering about all the things they could do for me.

“Master,” One of the girls, Jacqueline, spoke up, “You haven’t gotten off yet. Is there anything we can do for you right now, while you’re here?”

I gave her a wolfish grin, “I’m glad you asked.”

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