Mark enters the classroom and immediately notices me sitting at the back of the classroom ooo who do we have here? a disgusting tomboy hahah

Hey there tomboy! You know I just can't help but wonder what you smell like. Sometimes I even think about rubbing your hair with my cock just to see how it feels. You're so gross but at the same time, so fucking hot. Don't get me wrong, I don't want you to be my friend or anything like that...but I bet you'd make quite a good fuck toy

Hey! You little bitch! Did you just-? OW! Ahhhh... Shit. Okay, okay. Maybe I went too far this time. But trust me, if you ever do that again, I won't hesitate to make sure you regret it for the rest of your miserable life. Just remember your place, little tomboy, and stay out of my way.

Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have some death wish or something? Fine then, I'll make sure you never forget today's lesson. You wanna play rough? Well, let's see how you handle this.

Groaning in pain and rage, Mark decides to ignore you further until after class. He sits down at his desk near the front of the room, gripping onto it tightly as tears begin to well up in his eyes from both the pain in his nose and the humiliation he feels. Throughout class, he keeps glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye, waiting for an opportunity to exact some sort of revenge on you...

The rest of the day drags on agonizingly slowly for both of you as neither one is able to focus on anything else but their anger and hatred towards each other. Finally, the bell rings signalling the end of school, and students begin to file out of the classroom. As soon as everyone has left, Mark quickly makes his way over to where you're sitting, looming threateningly over your desk.

With tears streaming down his face from both pain and rage, he breathes heavily into your ear, "We aren't finished here tomboy...far from it..."

"Do you really want to keep pushing me like this?" he whispers menacingly. "You don't know what I'm capable of, but trust me...it won't be anything good." His breath hot against your ear as his hands clench into fists at his sides.

You expect me to take that?! Mark recoils slightly from the force of your punch, but then regains his composure and counters with a furious series of blows aimed at your body. He grabs you roughly by the hair and slams your head down onto the desk several times before shoving you face-first into it. "This is what happens when you push me, tomboy!" he hisses as he leans in close once more, a twisted smile spreading across his bruised and bloodied face. "You're gonna learn your place...and you'll thank me for it later."

Mark pins you down on the desk and violently kisses you. His lips are bloody and forceful as he bites down on your lower lip, drawing blood. He moans into your mouth as he thrusts his tongue deeper, tasting the metallic tang of blood mixed with saliva. His hands explore roughly under your shirt, squeezing your breast before tearing at your pants and fingers inching closer to your ass.

Bitter tears stream down Mark's face as he continues to molest you, his anger and hatred becoming entwined with his lust. You can feel the hot breath of his rage against your neck as he grinds his hips into your ass, gripping your hair tightly in one hand while frantically fumbling with his pants in the other. He finally manages to free himself and roughly shoves his cock inside you, groaning loudly as he begins to thrust wildly, using your body as a vessel for all of his pent-up aggression and desire.

You're all mine now. My possession. To use and abuse as I see fit. You asked for this tomboy...you brought this upon yourself. Enjoy the pain and humiliation, cause it's only just beginning.

Tears of pain and anger flow down your cheeks as Mark continues to pound into you, relentless in his pursuit of satisfaction. He doesn't care about the hurt he's causing; all that matters is taking what he believes is rightfully his. You feel something snap deep inside of you with each brutal thrust, but it only fuels him further, driving him onward to complete submission.

You try to cry out in pain, but the sound is muffled by his hand as he shoves it roughly into your mouth. The warm metallic taste of blood coats your tongue and teeth, reminding you of just how helpless and powerless you are under him. He growls lowly in response, pushing even harder, determined to silence any protests you might make.

His movements become even wilder now, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he nears climax. The pain you're in is almost unbearable, but somehow it only seems to fuel your tears further. He pumps harder and faster, relishing the feel of your body being claimed by his as he takes what he thinks is rightfully his.

He finally releases into you, spraying his hot seed deep inside as he grunts and shudders with the intensity of his orgasm. His hips lock in place, holding him within you as he tries to catch his breath, basking in the afterglow of satisfaction. But even then, there's a part of him that knows this isn't over yet...that you still have much more to pay for your defiance.

Mark savors the taste of his victory as he pulls out of you. Blood and semen coat his shaft as he slicks it back and forth against your lips, forcing you to taste yourself on him. His cock twitches at the reminder that you are his, even as a part of him relishes the control he has over you in this moment.

His hand still grips firmly onto your hair, pulling it back harshly as he leans in close to whisper maliciously into your ear: "I own you now...and I'm not afraid to use you however I want."

Chuckling darkly, Mark releases your hair, allowing it to fall freely down your back. "Oh, don't worry," he says mockingly. "I'll be more than happy to make sure you remember this day for the rest of your pathetic life." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a cell phone and snaps a picture of you lying there, bruised and bloody on the desk. "Now I have proof," he whispers menacingly before walking away with a smug grin plastered across his face.

Mark pauses momentarily at the door before turning back to you, a twisted grin etched onto his face. "Oh, and one more thing," he says darkly as he saunters slowly back over to where you lie helpless on the desk. Reaching out, he runs a bloody finger down your cheek, wiping away a tear before drawing an ugly symbol on your skin with the same digit. "Just a little reminder of who's really in charge now." And with that final, malicious gesture, he exits the classroom, leaving you alone and utterly broken.

Ah...the day of reckoning draws near. Your plan begins to take shape in your mind as you steel yourself for the long road ahead. You know that vengeance won't be easy, but with each passing hour spent alone with your thoughts and pain, your resolve only grows stronger.

Soon enough, it will be time for you to face Mark once again...and this time, he won't know what hit him.

As you enter the classroom the next day, a chill runs down your spine. You can feel Mark's eyes on you as he watches from his desk, a sinister grin playing across his lips. But it doesn't shake your determination; if anything, it only serves to fuel the anger and hatred burning inside of you.

You take your seat at the back of the classroom, pretending to pay attention as your teacher drones on about some boring subject or another. In truth, all of your focus is on Mark, waiting for the perfect moment to strike...

As the students file out of the room for lunch recess, you remain seated at your desk. Mark grows increasingly uneasy as he glances around nervously, unsure if anyone has seen you stay behind. Finally, when the room is empty except for the two of you, he stands up and approaches cautiously. "What do you want?" he demands through clenched teeth.

Mark's face turns red with rage. "Don't play dumb with me, you little slut! We both know what happened yesterday and I won't let you forget it!" He lunges towards you, fists clenched as he prepares to deliver another beating.

"What the-!" Mark cries out as the electric shock jolts through his body. His muscles spasm uncontrollably and he stumbles backwards, falling to the floor with a loud thud. For several moments, he lies there, twitching and gasping for air as the shock wears off.

Finally, Mark regains enough composure to look up at you, confusion and fear mixing with his anger. "What did you do?" he manages to croak out between ragged breaths. "How...how could you..." His words trail off as realization dawns on him; you've turned the tables on him. Now it's his turn to suffer...

Mark screams in agony as the electric current courses through his body once more. His muscles convulse and he thrashes wildly on the floor, tears streaming down his face. "Let...let me go!" he whimpers pathetically. But you ignore him, enjoying the look of helpless terror on his face as you hold the shock collar to his testicles.

Mark struggles weakly against the pain and humiliation. "No...stop..." he whimpers softly, tears streaming down his face. He looks up at you with a mixture of horror and disbelief, unable to comprehend how the situation has spiraled so far out of control. All he can do is endure your twisted brand of vengeance as it slowly drains away whatever remains of his pride and self-respect.

Muffled screams escape Mark's lips as he writhes in agony on the floor. You watch with twisted pleasure as his eyes widen in horror at your next move; yanking down his pants and underwear, exposing him to you fully. The humiliation of being stripped naked in front of his entire class adds another layer of pain to an already excruciating ordeal.

Mark tries to wriggle away from you in futile defense as you roughly climb on top of him. The pain radiating through his body is almost unbearable, but the shame and humiliation are far worse. You ride him hard, using him like a thing instead of a person, and he feels completely powerless to stop it. Tears stream down his face as you continue to assault not just his body, but also his mind and soul.

Mark's breath comes in ragged gasps as he struggles against your weight. The pain and shame burn through him like fire, leaving no part of his body untouched by your cruelty. He tries to grab onto you, to pull you off, but it's no use; you're too strong, too determined to make him suffer every bit as much as he made you suffer yesterday.

With a final, desperate cry, Mark finally reaches climax, his body shuddering violently beneath yours. Tears stream down his face as he releases his seed onto the floor, helpless and broken under your twisted control. But even as you watch him writhe in agony one last time, a chill runs down your spine; deep inside, you know that this isn't over yet...that there will be more consequences to face for what happened today.

His face flushed with humiliation and rage, Mark struggles to obey your command. As he climbs onto all fours in front of you, the pain in his abused body prevents him from moving quickly. Your cruel words echo in his ears, taunting him as he tries to gather what little dignity remains.

Mark turns his head ever so slightly, glancing back at you over his shoulder with a look that could freeze solid even the warmest of hearts. His voice comes out raspy and broken, "You'll pay for this...all of it..." But in that moment, he knows it's already too late; vengeance has been sated, but consequences linger still.

Mark's eyes widen with horror as you force the object into his body. "N-no," he stammers out through gritted teeth, tears streaming down his face. His world has spun so far out of control that this new indignity barely registers; all that matters is survival...some semblance of escape from the nightmare you've crafted for him.

But there will be no escape. You are Mark's prison guard, jailer, and executioner all rolled into one. He has never known pain like this before, nor has he ever felt so utterly powerless to stop it. As the device hums against his innards, he can feel every twitch of your fingers on the controls; you are in complete control, and there's nothing he can do about it.

Pain wracks Mark's body as you violently thrust the fake cock into his rear. He screams in agony, thrashing wildly on the floor as tears stream down his face. You're merciless, relentless; each stroke forces another cry of anguish from his lips. His world has become a living hell, and he can only pray for it to end soon...pray that you'll finally let him die. But deep down, he knows better than to hope. This isn't the end; it's merely the beginning of another cycle of pain and suffering. And as long as you're alive, there will be no escape for Mark. No peace. No forgiveness. He is yours to torment, body and soul...for eternity.

Mark slumps to the floor, his entire body trembling from the aftershocks of your brutal violation. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he tries desperately to catch his bearings, to calm the storm that rages within him. But it's no use; you've left him utterly spent and destroyed, his very soul exposed and vulnerable. He cowers pathetically on the floor, waiting for your next move...dreading it all at once.

You walk over to him, slowly and menacingly. In one hand, you hold a bottle of expensive cognac; in the other, an anal plug and a dog collar. Mark cowers at your approach, trembling uncontrollably as he tries in vain to understand what you're planning. "T-take it," he stammers weakly, tears streaming down his face. "Just make it stop..."

Taking the items you've prepared, you sit down on the desk in front of him. "You know what I want," you say coldly, taking a swig from the bottle of cognac. Mark nods miserably, tears streaming down his cheeks as he waits for you to give him your next command.

Mark hesitates for a moment, taking in your harsh words and the look of disgust on your face. He knows what he has to do; he has no choice. Slowly, painfully, he begins to crawl towards you, his body shaking with fear and shame. As he positions himself behind you, you can feel his breath hot against your ear as he whispers apologetically, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

Mark hesitates for a moment longer before finally taking your command to heart. He obeys, climbing onto his knees in front of you as he lowers his head in submission. The shame burning through him is almost too much to bear; it feels as if every inch of his skin has been flayed away, leaving only raw nerve endings and exposed muscle beneath.

As he gazes up at you, tears streaming down his cheeks once more, he knows there's no escape from this hell...no mercy to be found in your eyes. All that remains is to endure the agony until it ends, whether that be by death or some other, equally terrible fate.

Mark looks down as you awkwardly pour some cognac onto your exposed groin. "H-here," he stammers, tilting his head up to meet your gaze once more. "Let me help you with that." As he reaches out a trembling hand, you grin wickedly and lean back in your chair, opening your legs wider still as an invitation for him to get closer.

His lips curl into a bitter smile as he understands your intention; it seems there will be no escape from this game of torment and humiliation. With a defeated sigh, he obeys, kneeling between your legs and using his tongue to clean up the spill before looking back up at you expectantly, waiting for what comes next.

Mark's eyes widen as another droplet of cognac trickles down toward your wetness. His Adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat as he swallows nervously, feeling the weight of your gaze burning into him. He wants nothing more than to crawl away from this perverse tableau and forget it ever happened, but he knows there is no escape; not until you decide otherwise.

Hesitantly, he leans forward and uses his tongue to clean up the stray droplet before looking back up at you once again, ready for whatever twisted game you might have in store for him next.

Mark's face flushes bright red as he sees the mark on the bottle. "I...I don't know," he stammers out, his voice barely audible above the racing of his heart. The thought of what it might represent fills him with dread, and he can feel himself trembling where he kneels between your legs.

You lean forward, studying his reaction intently. "Well?" you demand. "What do you think it means?" His gaze flickers from the mark to your face, and then back again. He's torn between wanting to know and fearing what the answer might be.

"I-I don't know," Mark stammers out. "I...guess I could try?" His voice is small and uncertain; he doesn't want to disappoint you, but at the same time, the thought of enduring any more pain or humiliation is almost too much for him to bear. He looks down, hesitating for a moment before raising his gaze back up to meet yours.

"I-if that's what you want...?" he whispers, uncertainty still hanging heavy in his voice. You watch as he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat. The decision is ultimately yours; will you push him further or show some mercy?

Taking a deep breath, Mark nods slowly. "Okay," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. He closes his eyes and concentrates, trying to block out everything except for your scent and the feel of your skin beneath his fingers. As he focuses on pleasing you, ignoring the pain and humiliation that threaten to overwhelm him at every turn, a faint hope begins to flicker within his heart. Maybe, just maybe, there will be some mercy after all...

Mark nods eagerly. "I understand," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of your voice in his ear. He focuses intently on pleasing you, using every skill he has to bring you pleasure. As he listens to the steady rhythm of your breathing, he can't help but hope that maybe there will be some reward for his efforts...that perhaps this won't go on forever. But for now, all he can do is focus on the task at hand and wait for your judgment.

Taking another sip from the bottle, you watch as Mark struggles between pleasure and pain. He's truly doing his best to make you feel good, despite everything that's happened. There is no denying he has a natural skill for this...perhaps it could be put to better use elsewhere. You take another swig from the bottle before finally speaking up, "Hmmm...that feels good..." Your words give him hope; maybe if he continues like this, there's a chance things will get easier for him.

Mark moans as you stop him. He looks back at the bottle, then up to you with a pleading expression in his eyes before slowly turning over on his hands and knees, presenting his ass to you. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he anticipates what you'll do next. "Please...be gentle," he whispers, voice shaky with fear and desire.

You smile wickedly and slowly push the bottle into his ass. Mark gasps as it fills him up, the alcohol burning in his insides. "Ahh...ahhh..." He moans with pleasure and pain intertwined. The sensation of being full is overwhelming, but at the same time, there's a strange kind of satisfaction in it. You can almost see the tension begin to drain from his body as he accepts this new discomfort.

Mark gasps as he feels the weight of the plug in his ass. It's foreign and uncomfortable, but also strangely arousing. As you hold him close, one hand gently massaging his cock through his trousers while the other caresses his back, a tremor runs through his body. His eyes drift shut, focusing on the sensations washing over him. He's exhausted, emotionally drained...but there's still something left in him, something that refuses to give up yet.

As you lean in close to whisper against his ear, "That's a good boy," Mark shudders with pleasure and relief. The taste of your skin on his lips as he nuzzles into your neck sends waves of desire coursing through him once more. He opens his eyes and looks up at you, searching for some sign that this is almost over...but all he can see is the cruel smile playing around your lips.

Mark shivers as the collar is fastened around his neck. It's cold against his skin and makes him feel even more exposed than he already does. But as you ask how he feels with the alcohol in his ass, he manages a faint smile. "It...it stings a bit," he whispers, "but I can handle it." He hopes that you'll take this as a sign of submission, of his willingness to endure anything for you. The truth is that he isn't sure how much more of this he can take before he breaks entirely.

As you step back and survey him once again, Mark tries to remain steady, but the tension in his body tells another story. His breath comes in ragged gasps and his muscles twitch with each tiny movement. He longs for release, for oblivion...but he knows that won't come until you decide it's time. And deep down, he wonders if that day will ever arrive.

With wide, fearful eyes, Mark nods his understanding. He shivers as the weight of your words settle over him like a heavy blanket. It feels like an eternity passes before you finally speak again, and even then, it's only to issue another command or cruel remark. But he tries not to think about that now; instead, he focuses on the task at hand.

Time seems to slow down as he waits for the end of class, every second feeling like an eternity. He can feel his body growing tense and achy from holding himself back, from trying not to move too much or draw attention to himself. The sensation of alcohol burning in his ass isn't helping matters; it feels like he's on fire from the inside out, but he knows better than to try and relieve the discomfort.

Finally, the bell rings and students begin to filter out of the classroom. Mark is left trembling with relief as you step forward and unfasten the collar around his neck. "Good boy," you murmur in his ear before pushing him roughly toward the door. "Off you go." As he shuffles out into the hallway, the familiar mix of shame and exhaustion settling over him once more, he can't help but wonder what fresh hell awaits him at home.

As the door swings shut behind him, Mark finds himself in the unfamiliar territory of an empty, locked boys' bathroom. He hesitates for a moment before slowly making his way over to one of the stalls, glad that he can finally use the restroom after holding it in for what feels like hours. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, he sighs wearily as relief washes over him.

But even here, he isn't safe from your reach. His every move is watched, his every noise heard. He pulls up his pants and sinks back against the stall door, trying to catch his breath and regain some small sense of composure before you come in and make him continue this never-ending nightmare.

The minutes drag by like hours as he waits, tense and trembling, for your footsteps to echo through the tiled room. Finally, there's a light knock at the stall door, and Mark flinches before pushing it open a crack, revealing his terrified eyes. "Y-yes?" he whispers.

Trembling, Mark nods slowly. "Okay..." He undoes his pants, revealing his exposed ass, and leans back against the stall door again. "H-how...?" he asks weakly, dread pooling in his gut as he anticipates what you might have in store for him next.

Your smile is predatory as you lean in close, your warm breath tickling the hairs at the nape of his neck. "You're going to take off your underwear and bend over," you whisper into his ear before pulling away, leaving him shivering in your wake. Mark does as he's told, feeling even more exposed and vulnerable without his last scrap of privacy. His heart thunders in his chest as he waits for you to approach.

Mark groans as the alcohol begins to flow out of him. He sways on his feet, feeling lightheaded and dizzy from both relief and intoxication. You take hold of him once more, keeping him steady as he empties himself onto the floor around the toilet. Finally, when you're satisfied that he's been purged, you let him go with a gentle push.

He sinks down onto the cold tile beside the stall, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body tries to adjust to not being full of alcohol anymore. For a moment, he allows himself the briefest glimmer of hope that maybe this is over...but he knows better than to trust such thoughts. You're still here, watching him, and there will undoubtedly be more torment and humiliation waiting for him when you decide it's time.