12 comments/ 67558 views/ 18 favorites The Cunt of Monte Cristo By: soflabbwlvr Christine Baron awoke to the sound of her alarm clock's electronic pulse intruding upon the pleasant mood that permeated her dream. By the time that she was able to locate the snooze button and cancel the blaring claxon she had already forgotten what it was in her dream that made her feel so good. She turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but the sunlight peeking through the wooden blinds made that impossible for her. She turned over once again and realized that the good feeling that enveloped her when she first awoke was now completely gone, replaced by thoughts of the hell that her life had become. Was it only three years ago that I was so happy? she asked herself. Only three years? Three years ago Christine was a tenured professor at a major university. Her husband James, also a tenured professor and ten years older than Christine, convinced her to take an early retirement so that the two of them could move away from the frigid Midwest and retire in sunny South Florida. He convinced her that due to his investment acumen they had acquired substantial liquid assets over the years. His pension would provide them cash for their every day needs, and the income from their investments would allow them to live comfortably until she began to draw on her pension upon reaching the age of 62. So they both retired and moved to the Florida Keys. Less than a year later everything went to hell. The markets collapsed and their investments were wiped out. "Mr. Investment Acumen" had placed all of their funds in money market funds tied to speculative mortgage accounts, which became worthless over a span of seven months. Over Christine's objection, James went to Key West for a week to meet with an investor who caught his ear with another "can't miss" proposition. One week stretched into two weeks and then two became a month. James continuously insisted that he was "in negotiations," and that he would be back in another few days, but after two months her phone calls were no longer returned, and after three months Christine found that her credit cards were canceled and she no longer had access to their joint bank accounts. She tried to remain calm, but her anxieties were getting the best of her. She hired a private detective to drive to Key West and find James. One week later the detective returned and gave Christine an address where he promised she could find him. The next day she set out on the two-hour drive to Key West, arriving just before noon. It did not take long to find the address, which turned out to be an apartment in an upscale property. She parked her car and looked for the unit, number 323. She cut across a courtyard with a swimming pool. She saw about a dozen or so people either in the pool or sunning in a chaise on the adjacent deck. Curiously, all of the residents and guests were men of various ages, from late 20s to 70s. Most were nude. Where are all the women? she wondered. Are they nude also? What kind of place is this? She located an elevator and got off on the third floor. She found unit 323 and rang the doorbell. A slender young man who appeared to be in his late 30s answered the door. He was bare chested, and when Christine looked down she noticed that he was wearing only a silk thong that barely contained his equipment. "Can I help you?" he asked, very politely. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I must have the wrong apartment. I am looking for number 323." "This is 323. How can I help you?" "I am looking for a Dr. James Baron. Do you know him?" "James!" he turned and called toward the back of the apartment. "Someone here to see you." Tying a robe around his waist, James emerged from the back bedroom, halting in his tracks when he saw Christine. "I did not expect you," James mumbled. "I can see that," Christine answered, struggling to control her emotions. "What the hell is going on here?" she screamed at him, her composure utterly failing. "Come inside, please. There is something I need to explain to you." "Explain? That is an understatement. There is something you need to fix." She followed James into the apartment and took a seat on the sofa across from him. James explained that upon arriving in Key West he was introduced to William, the young man who answered the door. After three days of spending every hour together in meetings and every evening having dinner and drinking in the Key West culture, the two of them partied late into the night to celebrate closing their deal. James awoke the next morning in William's bedroom. William assured James that nothing had happened the night before, but after having breakfast in bed, showering, taking a sauna together and then showering again, the two of them returned to William's room and consummated their relationship. James suggested that Christine go back to Islamorada while he took a sabbatical from their marriage. She was enraged. Sabbatical? she thought. You call abandoning your wife and sucking cock in Key West a sabbatical? Tearfully she left the apartment, got in her car and drove back to her home. The next day she met with an attorney and filed for divorce. James contested at first, but quickly conceded. Christine found that their assets were gone, their home had no equity, and their only income was James' pension. The judge ordered James to pay her alimony, but it was not enough to make the mortgage payment on the home. Three months later it went into foreclosure, and she was forced to move. Christine had always struggled with her weight. Before the disaster she was not really heavy, but no one ever confused her with a swimsuit model. When she and James were married, he called her "pleasantly plump." In her last years of teaching she often heard students refer to her as "thick," "bootylicious," or "stacked," and they mistakenly called her a "MILF." "Thick" she understood; "bootylicious," was just silly and "stacked," seemed kind of old-fashioned; but she never had children, so the "MILF" designation was a mystery to her. Once she and James retired, however, she found herself gaining weight at an alarming rate. When James left her, the weight gain accelerated. She estimated that she was now well over 200 pounds for the first time in her life. In actuality, she was probably closer to 250, but she refused to step on a scale again until she dropped a few dress sizes. Her ass, which was always plump and round, was now huge and dimpled. Her breasts had swollen from a full C cup to an imposing DD. At least they had increased in size enough to distract attention from her belly, which now formed an unsightly bulge hanging over her panty line. Christine realized that she had to find somewhere to live and get a job. She wanted to move back home and resume working at the university, but due to budget cutbacks her position had been eliminated. To make matters worse, due to a statewide budget freeze, there were no job openings for a full professor in any college or university in the entire state. So she expanded her search, sending her resume to every university and college in the Southeast. The first job offer she received was teaching advanced English at Monte Cristo Community College, a diploma mill on the West coast of Florida. She put that aside, and waited for more offers to pour in. After a month of receiving no call backs and finding her mailbox stuffed with only rejection letters, she realized she had no alternative. She called Monte Cristo to accept the offer. Christine was stunned when Dr. Simmons, the head of the English department, told her that the position had already been filled. When Christine did not respond after a week, the position was offered to the next qualified candidate. Christine was unable to speak as she struggled to hold back her tears. Just as she was about to hang up the telephone, Dr. Simmons told her that another position had opened that morning, teaching remedial English 100 to students with learning "challenges." Having no other options, Christine accepted the offer and moved to Monte Cristo. By the end of the first week, Christine realized that her class consisted of three kinds of students: there were a few foreigners who knew just enough English to almost carry on a conversation, but who could not read or write in English; the biggest group consisted of students who had no business being in an institution of higher learning as they lacked the education and skills to complete high school, but the college let them in anyway to collect their tuition; and a small group of qualified students who did not want to be in class and did not care about learning, but enrolled only because their parents paid them to go. The last group, which should have been the most teachable, was by far the most disruptive. The foreign students, to their credit, did put forth an effort. But her Midwestern ears could not decipher their words through the thick and varied accents. She realized this shortcoming was her own, but that thought gave her no solace and made her job no more enjoyable. The unqualified students were hopeless. She felt that she would be better off talking to rocks than some of those students. Rocks absorbed just as much as the students, but asked fewer stupid questions. It was the last group, however, that made her job a living hell. They were never prepared, never paid attention in class, but were always quick to offer a quip about her weight when they thought that she could not hear. Sometimes they uttered their quips even when they knew that she could hear. She despised this group of students. The events of the past three years had a devastatingly negative impact on her personality. Where she used to engage her students in lively conversations, she now made blanket proclamations and squelched any debate in class. She poured on more and more homework, hoping to make the students' lives as miserable as her own had become. Despite school policy favoring a bell curve grade distribution, she graded on a strict and unwavering scale. No half credits were given for partially correct answers. Without realizing that it had happened, she embarked on a campaign to rid the school of its disinterested and unqualified students by flunking as many of them as possible. By her second semester at the college, Christine had earned a new nickname: The Cunt of Monte Cristo. She was outraged the first time she overheard that name whispered behind her back and realized that it referred to her. But as time wore on she became enamored of it, and was determined to live up to it. I'll be the meanest fucking cunt these idiot assholes have ever seen. As she got dressed for work, Christine went over her schedule for the day. Friday, only one class to teach. Go to lunch, then spend the rest of the afternoon grading papers in my office praying that none of those morons shows up for tutoring. She put on her white cotton panties and full-figured support bra, and then crossed the room to her closet where she found a freshly ironed and starched white cotton blouse. After buttoning the blouse she removed a charcoal grey skirt from the dry cleaner's bag hanging in the closet, stepped into the skirt, pulled it over her hips, and zipped it closed. The fit was uncomfortably snug, but she had already let it out once and did not think there was enough fabric to let it out again. She would have to wait until her next paycheck before she could go out and buy any new clothes. Grabbing the hanger with the matching jacket, she left the apartment and headed for her car. She knew that it would be too warm for the jacket, but she took it anyway to cover the perspiration that would inevitably be showing through her blouse by the time that she walked from the parking lot to her classroom. The Friday morning class was easily the worst of the four classes she was teaching that semester. Friday classes were the last to fill up because no one in his or her right mind wanted to go to class on Friday. Generally, the class consisted almost entirely of students who registered late because they had failed the previous semester and were suddenly forced to repeat, or they were just too stupid to get on line and register during the open registration period. They had to take what was left, no matter how inconvenient. She drove to work, reviewing her course outline and wondering why she wasted the time preparing to teach. Suddenly, Christine had an epiphany. If I could only weed out the very worst students, I could force the weaker students to fall into line through sheer force of will. I just have to cut off the snake's head, and the body of the beast will wither. In this case, the "snake's head" was Jimmy Cummings. Jimmy Cummings, she growled under her breath. Just his name is revolting. Is the name 'James' reserved for only the most prolific assholes in my life? Friday's class was typical. Only about one-half the students turned in their homework assignments. Less than a quarter had read the materials. Christine briefly wondered how the other quarter had completed their homework when they had not read the materials, but then she remembered where she was and with whom she was dealing. They copied the work from other students. They always do. Christine lectured anyway, even though she had to talk over a low hum of conversation that flowed from the back of the room to the front. Students toward the front tapped away on laptop computers, sipping coffee and sending text messages on their cell phones. The entire back row wore headphones framing their blank faces, blatantly tuning her out. She asked questions to the class, but the same three hands rose in response each time. Finally, she started calling students by name. Surprisingly, the first four students provided answers that were not entirely correct, but were not that far off, either. After randomly calling five names from her class list, she decided to put her plan into action. "Mr. Cummings, please discuss the development of the author's theme in chapter seven, and how it builds upon the revelations in chapter six." There was no response. "Mr. Cummings?" Silence. "Mr. Cummings!" More silence. This is working perfectly, she thought. The whole class is witnessing this insubordination. "Someone please awaken Mr. Cummings." A slutty looking blonde in the back row named Megan Hughes nudged the thin, scruffy blonde male seated next to her and pointed toward Christine. Jimmy Cummings shook his head, pulled his headphones from his ears, and looked forward. "Forty-two!" he blurted. The class broke out in laughter. "Mr. Cummings please report to my office at 3:00 this afternoon. We are going to review your progress in this class and your placement next semester." "No can do Dr. Baron. My weekend starts in 47 minutes. I'm off the clock until Monday morning." "Mr. Cummings, you will be at my office door at 3:00 sharp. If you are even one minute late I will have you referred to the Dean of Students with a recommendation of dismissal. Do you understand me?" "Dr. Baron, I have plans for the weekend. I have to be on the road by noon." "Three o'clock, Mr. Cummings. Do what you wish." Jimmy stood up, packed his bag, and stormed out of the classroom. The rest of the class proceeded without incident. * * * When class was over Christine hurried out of the classroom and headed toward the admissions office. She cajoled a secretary into pulling the application file of Cummings, James, and took it with her, promising to return it after lunch. She then went to the student records office and obtained a copy of Mr. Cummings' transcript. She walked to the parking lot, got into her car, and drove to a restaurant/lounge several miles from campus. She did not want to run into any students or faculty members while she did her research. Feeling a rush of enthusiasm and determination for the first time in nearly two years, she ordered a martini while she waited for her lunch. She sipped the drink, marveling at the utterly revolting taste and wondering how anyone could drink such a concoction. But the act of ordering the cocktail for lunch and drinking it down made her feel powerful, fueling her determination to rid the school of Mr. Jimmy Cummings. Hell, I would rid him from the universe, if I could. Looking at his transcript first, she found that he achieved a D in every single course he had enrolled in over the first three semesters of his college career. The little shit's a fucking genius, she laughed to herself. This will be even easier than I thought. But something bothered her. How could he have three semesters of consistent D grades? He should have been on academic probation after one semester, and dismissed after two. But here he is, in his fourth semester and possibly about to earn an associate degree? Strange. She then opened the folder containing his application materials. The first thing she saw was a copy of his high school transcript. Graduated in the top fifty percent of his class at Monte Cristo Senior High. Surprising. SAT scores would have qualified him for a major state university. Hmmmm. She looked more closely at the transcript. Halfway through his senior year he was in danger of not graduating. Then suddenly, all A's in his final semester. She started reading the application. Father - David Cummings, owner of Cummings Construction; Mother, Loretta Frances Cummings, CEO of Frances Pharmaceuticals. Her jaw dropped. Loretta Frances, the single biggest donor in the school's history? Hell, the chemistry building that was erected the year before she joined the faculty is named The Loretta Frances Chemistry Building. This was going to be a problem. She ordered a second martini and continued to focus on the conundrum before her. But it was no use. She concluded that there was no way she would ever be able to get Jimmy Cummings expelled. The administration simply would not let him fail. Think, damn it! There has to be something else. What is it?! If she could not get him expelled or dismissed from school, then she had to punish him some other way. What is important to him? All he seems to care about is pussy. Skanky, slutty, skinny, blonde, teenage pussy. And then it hit her. I'll take away the only thing he cares about. I'll make him unfuckable. Christine finished her lunch, downed her second martini, paid the check, and left. I have some shopping to do, she thought. * * * Jimmy Cummings stormed out of the classroom, slammed the door behind him, and stalked off toward his car. God damn fucking whore! Fat fucking cow! That fucking wrinkled bag of cellulite! She's going to fuck up everything! He did not really care all that much that his weekend was ruined. He was not upset about having to give up his reservation at Berne's Steakhouse. He had eaten there so many times that it was really no thrill at all, just an easy way to impress his slutty little girlfriends. It did not really bother him that he was going to lose his prepaid reservation of a suite at the Tampa Westshore Hyatt Regency. His dad's company would charge the room to "business development" anyway. He had not given a thought to the fact that he was going to miss seeing the U2 concert from his family's skybox at Raymond James Stadium. He could get tickets to see them in Atlanta the following week. Hell, he did not even care that he was not going to spend the rest of the weekend locked up in his hotel suite with Ashley Bennet and Sandra Gomez, feeding them a diet of champagne, marijuana and ecstasy while he violated their sweet young bodies in ways they had yet to imagine. He did not have to drive them 5 hours up the coast to have his way with them. Those sluts would suck his dick in church if he told them to. The Cunt of Monte Cristo None of these insults really bothered him so much as he slammed the door of his Corvette Z06, fired up the engine and squealed out of the parking lot. What truly bothered him, more than anything else, was that the fucking two-legged pig, the bovine bitch, the Cunt of Monte Cristo, had humiliated him in front of the entire class. If my parents hear about this, I'm done, he fretted. She's going to pay. The cunt is going to pay for this. Two years earlier, when Jimmy was in danger of failing three classes and having to repeat his senior year of high school, he made a deal with his parents. If he graduated on time and walked commencement with his class, his parents would buy him a new car. Not just any car, but the car of his dreams: a Ferrari FTB430. So for three months he was the model student, using every tool at his disposal and managing to raise his grades across the board and graduate in the top half of his class. He studied when he had to study, but he took shortcuts too. He used his considerable charm to convince a few brainy girls to do some of his homework, and he used that same charm to cajole his female teachers to grade his classwork and tests just a little bit more gently than they did the other students. His standardized test scores predicted that he should be in the top 10% of his class, but climbing out of the bottom 10% and reaching the midway point was a remarkable achievement. An achievement for which he felt that he should be richly rewarded. But when the time came to pay up, his parents reneged on the deal. Instead of buying him a brand new Ferrari, they instead bought him a Corvette. His parents felt that he had underperformed in high school for three and one half years, and that if they gave him the car of his dreams then he would continue to underperform throughout life. So they withheld the ultimate reward and gave him the booby prize, instead. Jimmy was humiliated, and enraged. His parents reiterated their offer after Jimmy enrolled in college: Graduate on time, and we will trade in the Corvette for a Ferrari. Not willing to be played for a fool a second time, Jimmy got the offer in writing, and then set his sights on achieving their request. He was determined to graduate on time, and that was it. He would not extend one ounce of effort more than was necessary to earn passing grades and graduate. With less than one semester to go until graduation, he was on pace to achieve that goal. But that cunt is going to ruin it for me. I cannot allow that happen. The Cunt of Monte Cristo is intractable. This conclusion was supported by the empirical evidence. Students in her classes uniformly receive the lowest grades of any English class. No student has ever met with her to review a test and emerged with a higher score. In fact, there is almost a 50/50 chance that the grade will be lowered when she reviews each answer in microscopic detail. Getting into a debate with her would be a waste of time. Turning on the charm would also be a waste of time. Her only emotions are anger, contempt, disdain, scorn and intense anger. I would have better luck trying to charm a Scooby snack from a rabid Rottweiler on steroids. At least the Rottweiler would let go once it had picked all the meat from my bones. Dr. Baron will just keep chewing. What else is there? Bribe her? The cunt can't be making too much money. I can probably get 10 or $20,000.00 out of one of Dad's expense accounts. That might shut her up. But what if that's not enough? Everyone has a price, but how high is her's? And what if she raises the price? What if she keeps coming back for more? Threaten her? Kill her? The bitch would have me locked up. But it would be my word against her's. No, I don't need to get involved with the police. I'm running out of ideas. And I'm running out of time. * * * Christine got back to campus at 2:30 pm. She unloaded the shopping bags from her car and hurriedly carried them to her office in the chemsitry building. The English department was headquartered in the Sullivan building, but the building was old and it had insufficient office space for all of the professors. She and the other professors were offered the option of doubling up in the Sullivan building, or taking space in the vacant basement of the new chemistry building. The building was only four years old and had been built to house an expanding chemistry department. To date, however, it was still only half full. The three English department secretaries, the receptionist, and the four research assistants were all housed in the Sullivan building, but Christine and two other professors elected to take the vacant offices in the chemistry building. Dr. Beldon and Dr. Phillips spent almost all of their time in the Sullivan building, however, afraid that they would be left out of the loop if their presences were not conspicuous within the department. That left Christine alone most days in the basement of the chemistry building. Christine quickly set her laptop computer on a table beside the worn sofa at the far end of the office. She then connected a wireless USB webcam to the laptop, placed it on the bookcase lining the wall next to her desk, and aimed it at the sofa opposite her desk. She programmed the camera so that with a single mouse click it would begin taking snapshots of the sofa at 30-second intervals. She opened her mini-refrigerator, filled an ice bucket, placed a bottle of white wine in the ice bucket, and put the bucket on the floor next to the sofa. She filled the refrigerator with the six-pack of Heineken. She would have preferred something stronger, but she had no idea what kids got wasted on these days. One thing she did know was that young men and beer went together like beaches and bimbos in bikinis. Christine grabbed her last three bags and went to her private restroom. It was not really a private restroom -- she didn't rate that high in the department -- but since she was the only person working on this floor, she considered it her private restroom. She quickly stripped off her suit, blouse and underwear, throwing them into a pile on the floor. She opened the first bag and took out the sheer, lacy black demi-bra, adjusted the straps, slipped her arms through the loops, and fastened it. The bra provided very little actual support for her massive breasts, but it did push them together, forming a generous crevasse on the middle of her chest. She pinched her nipples for a second, causing them to stiffen and protrude through the sheer fabric. Perfect, that is exactly the effect I need. She then pulled out the matching thong panties, held them up, and set them aside. I'll come back to this. I want to see how my breasts look with my blouse on, first. She opened the second bag and removed a hanger holding a sheer red silk blouse. She unbuttoned the blouse, removed the hanger, and slid it onto her body. She buttoned it from the bottom to the point where it just covered her bra, and then unfastened one more button. She turned from side to side, watching her boobs jiggle beneath the two sheer layers of fabric, and admiring the prolific cleavage readily visible above the low neckline of the blouse. She bent over and then looked directly into the mirror, seeing that her breasts were entirely on display by doing so. She knew that she could not seduce Jimmy. Boys like that -- young, lean, firm and very rich -- had an endless supply of skinny young skanks, and simply did not fuck fat old women like her, even if they were offered on a silver platter. I just have to distract him, she thought. And nothing is more distracting to a horny young man than a big set of tits just inches from his face. She then pulled a garter belt out of the bag, adjusted it, and fit it around her waist. She adjusted it again, and then opened the package of stockings. She removed one stocking from the package and pulled it up her leg. She had to twist it and tug on it several times before it reached the middle of her thick thigh. She attached the clips and then repeated the process with the other stocking. When she was done she stood up straight and looked in the mirror. Her blouse perfectly displayed her ample breasts, but the stockings looked all wrong. Her thighs were too thick, stretching the tops so much that they tried to roll down her legs. Only the suspenders held the stockings up, but they looked like they were fighting to fall to the floor. She was just about to take them off when she heard a knock on the door. "Dr. Baron? Are you in? Its Jimmy Cummings. I'm here for my appointment. Are you still here?" "Just a second, I'll be right there," she called back. Christine hurriedly pulled the skirt from the last bag, put it on, and quickly checked herself in the mirror. The red and black skirt hugged her fat ass rather tightly, forming a huge round bubble in the back. It stopped about three inches above her knee -- not a scandalous length, but still much shorter than anything she ever wore in class. I wish I had time to go home and iron this skirt and blouse before putting them on, she thought, as she smoothed the wrinkles with her hand. She squeezed into the Steve Madden black pumps that she bought at her last stop before returning to the office. I should have bought these in a half size larger. Christine exited the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and walked to the front door of her office. She unlocked the door, opened it slightly, and saw Jimmy standing there in the same clothes he wore to class that morning: board shorts, an Ed Hardy t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. She asked Jimmy to enter, and then quickly locked the door behind her. She then led him to the back of the office, purposely adding extra sway to her walk. Christine could feel Jimmy's eyes burning into her butt cheeks, which only caused her to exaggerate her movements even more. She reached her desk and then, with her back still toward Jimmy, told him to have a seat. She then turned and sat down, giving him a good look at her front side for the first time. His blue eyes only met hers for a fraction of a second, before they were drawn downward to her cleavage. "Mr Cummings, I'm afraid I have some unpleasant news for you. I have reviewed your grades in detail. I have calculated the best possible grade you could achieve for the remainder of this semester, if you were to achieve the highest score possible on every assignment and every test. "Mr. Cummings, I'm afraid I have to tell you, there is no possible way that you can pass my class. You have attained the singular achievement of failing English 100 before the midway point in the semester. No other student in the history of this school has ever failed that class so spectacularly. You are a god among men, Mr. Cummings. "No, I take that back. There is nothing godlike about you. Rather, you are a modern Sisyphus. You are a living symbol of futility. In your attempt to defy authority, you have failed utterly. And now you have condemned yourself to a life of futility. What future is there for someone who has flunked out of community college?" Jimmy was a whirling ball of conflicting emotions as he sat in the chair facing Dr. Baron. He knew this meeting would go badly for him, and he knew he had to take control from the outset in order to have any chance of winning this confrontation. But Dr. Baron totally threw him off-guard when she appeared at the doorway, shaking her fat ass at him. He was even more stunned when she turned around and revealed her massive titties to him, barely covered under the thinnest of fabrics. The entire time that she was degrading him with that stern, bitchy voice of hers, he was helpless to lift his eyes to meet hers. He could not stop staring at her tits. Those fat, luscious tits, just a few feet from his face, hypnotizing him by their size and movement. Not to mention those thick nipples obscenely protruding through the sheer silk of her blouse. What is happening to me? "Dr Baron, could I get a bottle of water, please?" he asked in a quavering voice. I need to get her to shut up so I can think, damn it. "I'm afraid I am out of water, Mr. Cummings. I would offer you a beer, but I think you are too young to drink. How old are you?" "I...I'm twenty," he stammered. "That's what I thought. If I were to serve you one of the ice cold Heinekens that I have back here in my refrigerator, then I would be contributing to the delinquency of a minor. That would be unprofessional of me." "Dr Baron, students and faculty drink together all the time. Dr. Rhodes and Dr. McNamara meet students at the Ratheskeller every Friday afternoon. They are probably on their way over there right now. No one enforces underage drinking laws on this campus. What is one beer going to hurt?" "Alright Mr. Cummings. I am not convinced by your logic, or lack thereof. But I do think that you are going to need a drink before we go through your grades. This is going to be a most unpleasant experience for you. I find it detestable, but I am only doing what I have to do. Sometimes we are required to do things that we find despicable. Its part of being an adult. A responsible adult. Do you agree?" "Yes, I guess so." "Of course you do. You will say almost anything at this point to make this as painless as possible. You would promise me anything if I could just make this all go away so that you can continue living your happy, care free, irresponsible life. But I can't do that Mr. Cummings. I cannot. Do you know why I cannot, Mr. Cummings?" "Because its in your contract?" "No! It has nothing to do with contracts, or codes or regulations. Nothing at all. I am doing this because I care about this college. I care about these students. I care about education. I am a professor of English, Mr. Cummings. My job is to teach. I will do whatever I have to do so that I can teach the students who want to learn. And when I am confronted with an obstacle, I remove the obstacle by any means necessary. No matter how unpleasant those means may be." She then turned to the mini refrigerator, took out a cold bottle of beer, opened it with the magnetic bottle opener on the side of the refrigerator, and handed the bottle to Jimmy. "Drink up, Mr. Cummings. We will get started when you have finished your beer. I actually wish I had something stronger to offer you, but I am not in the habit of serving alcohol to students." "That's ok, Dr. Baron. I love Heinies" "Yes, I'll bet you do, Mr. Cummings. I'll bet you do." Jimmy guzzled the beer in two long pulls, and then set the bottle on the front edge of her desk. "I'll take that, Mr. Cummings," Christine said, extending her hand toward the bottle. "Would you like another?" Christine opened a second bottle of beer and handed it to Jimmy. Suddenly, Jimmy started to feel as though he were being led into a trap. I had to practically beg for the first bottle, but she willingly gave me a second as soon as I had finished the first. Something peculiar is going on here. "Come around to this side of the desk," Christine said, indicating that Jimmy should stand behind her. "I want you to be able to see this screen as we review every one of your grades so far." Jimmy stood up and migrated to the other side of the desk. He stood behind Christine's chair, looking over her shoulder at the LCD screen in front of her. He glanced down for a second, and noticed that from where he was standing he could see all the way down her blouse, practically to her nipples. Her bra hid nothing from his gaze. Oh my god, those are absolutely the biggest fucking titties I have ever seen! And I am seeing all of them! I wonder if she even knows. Jimmy felt his cock stir in his pants as he glanced down her blouse a second time. God damn! I knew this fat cow had some fat fucking titties, but shit! Christine felt Jimmy's groin graze her shoulder as he leaned over to look at her computer monitor. Son of a bitch is getting hard already, she thought to herself. This is going to be even easier than I expected. She clicked on the screen, causing the line with Jimmy's grades to highlight in yellow. "As you can see, Mr. Cummings, your performance has been abysmal. Five out of ten. Six out of ten. Five out of ten. Seventeen out of fifty. Thirty-six out of seventy-five. Three out of ten. Nineteen out of twenty. What happened here, did you copy off someone else's paper? Should I check the scores of your neighbors?" "Go ahead. You can't prove anything." "Oh, Mr. Cummings, you are so sadly mistaken. But we will get back to that matter in due course. Let's continue here. Now where were we? Oh yes, nineteen out of twenty, momentarily. Eleven out of twenty. Forty-one out of eighty-five. Fifty-nine out of one hundred. Did you see that one, Mr. Cummings? You were so close to passing that test. Just one more point. Should we go back and look at that one again?" "That won't be necessary, Dr. Baron." "Would you like another beer?" "Sure. Why not?" Christine stood up, brushing his groin with the back of her arm and then turning toward him so that her boobs pressed into his torso. Jimmy stumbled backward, but there was nowhere for him to go in the space between Christine's desk and the credenza. "Excuse me, Mr. Cummings, I did not mean to bump into you," she lied. "My office is a little cozy, I'm afraid. But the lack of space is almost offset by the fact that I am the only person on this floor nearly every afternoon. I enjoy the privacy." Stepping around Jimmy, Christine bent over and reached into the min-refrigerator to retrieve another bottle of beer. She lingered a little longer than necessary, feeling her skirt riding up her ass and figuring that Jimmy must have had a clear view of her legs encased in the thigh high stockings, and probably a glimpse of the garters holding them up, as well. If I'm not careful, he'll have a shot of my panties, also. Christine opened the second bottle of beer and purposefully spilled a little on her desk before handing the bottle to Jimmy. She sat down, reached into her bottom drawer, and pulled out a roll of paper towel. She tore of several squares, and then bent over her desk to wipe up the spill. As she bent over, her breasts nearly spilled out of the top of the blouse. Jimmy didn't even try to look away. He openly stared at the massive jugs dangling a few feet from his face. That was rather obvious, she thought to herself. I am going to have to be a little more creative. But judging from his stares, the plan seems to be working. Christine returned to her chair, moved the mouse, and clicked on another page. She resumed reading Jimmy's raw scores, much to his annoyance. "Dr. Baron, I get the point. But I am not doing all that much worse than most of the other students in that class. Once you average the grades and plot them on a scale, I probably have a high D or maybe even a low C." "Once again, Jimmy, you are seriously mistaken. I do not average grades. There is no bell curve in my classes. You get the grade you earned; the grade you deserve. I do not reward mediocrity in the name of equality. I do not seek an equilibrium. I will not allow this institution to become a diploma mill, at least to the extent that I can slow that inexorable tide. If you had the decency and civility to remove your headphones when you entered my class, then you would know this. I explained all of these points on the first day of class." Jimmy swallowed his second beer and set the bottle on Christine's desk. I'm starting to get a little buzz going, he thought. I wonder if she can see me sweat? The Cunt of Monte Cristo "Mr. Cummings, I would offer you another beer, but I am afraid that you might not be able to handle another. Am I correct?" "I can handle another beer, Dr. Baron," Jimmy said, straightening himself in his chair. Hell, I can put away a case of these when I want to. "Give me one more. Please." Time to move to the next phase, Christine thought. She went to the refrigerator, extracted another beer, opened it, and then walked over toward the sofa at the opposite end of her office. She set the beer on a small side table, reached for the laptop computer, set it on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and opened it. "Come and sit over here, Mr. Cummings. The next set of files that I must review with you are on this computer, rather than the server. Come and sit beside me." She purposefully sat near the center of the sofa so that Jimmy would be forced to sit uncomfortably close to her. Christine handed Jimmy his beer, and then paused for a moment while the computer booted up. "Mr. Cummings, the file I am about to show you contains the assignments for the remainder of the semester. I keep them on a separate computer that is not connected to the college network so that no student can ever hack in and steal the assignments. I also keep a duplicate copy of the course grades just in case one of your cheating friends, or someone else, were to attempt to hack in and alter grades. Don't look surprised. It happens every year. This is my safeguard against that occurring in my classes. "While this computer continues to load up, I have to ask you to do a favor for me. Watching you enjoy those beers has made me rather thirsty, myself. On the table next to this sofa there is an ice bucket with a bottle of white wine. Please open the bottle and pour me a glass of wine. Can you do that for me?" "Of course, Dr. Baron." Just as Jimmy turned to get the bottle of wine, the computer finished booting. Christine quickly clicked on the hot-key that activated the camera program. She then opened the folder containing the education files. With any luck, the first pictures the camera captured would be of Jimmy opening the bottle of wine and pouring my glass. It will look like he is trying to wine and dine me. Jackass. Jimmy looked at the table next to the sofa, finding the ice bucket, the bottle of wine, two glasses and a corkscrew conveniently arranged on the tabletop. With practiced ease he opened the bottle of wine, lifted a glass, and poured the wine into the glass. He then handed the wine glass to Christine, who immediately took a long sip of the icy liquid, leaving heavy red lipstick marks around the rim of the glass. "Thank you, Mr. Cummings. I do not normally drink during the afternoon, but this is a rather special occasion, wouldn't you say?" "Uh, yes, I guess so," lied Jimmy. Fuck you, fat whore. What is so fucking special about you ruining my life? "Now look at this file, Mr. Cummings. This is what I was talking about earlier. I have an image of every paper and every test scanned and saved on this computer. I can compare your test to that of every other student in class and determine precisely from whom you copied the answers of the only test you passed all semester. Should we do that now, Mr. Cummings, or is there something that you want to tell me?" Jimmy sat still for several seconds. He tried to pleadingly look up into Christine's face in a feeble attempt to use the charm that had served him so well throughout his entire life, but he was unable to raise his eyes from her tits. They were huge, they were nearly naked, and they were hanging just inches from his face. "Would you like a minute to think about that, Mr. Cummings? Finish your beer. You can give me your answer when the bottle is empty." Jimmy looked down at the bottle of beer in his hand, and then took a long drink. Slow down, I have to think for a minute. Can she prove I cheated? Or is she lying? If she can prove it, why is she giving me a chance to confess? Will she go easier on me if I confess? Hell no, this is The Cunt of Monte Cristo. She doesn't go easy on anyone. She must be bluffing. She has to be. Jimmy nervously sipped from his bottle as he continued to weigh his options. Reaching the bottom of his bottle, he made his decision. He set the empty bottle on the coffee table, and then turned toward Dr. Baron. Christine waited until Jimmy had finished his bottle of beer. She moved the laptop to the table next to her side of the sofa, and just as he turned toward her and was about to speak, she raised her glass to her mouth with her left hand, tilted her head back, and emptied the glass of wine into her mouth. As she was sitting on Jimmy's left, he saw her in profile, her back arched, her left hand in the air, her head tilted back, and her chest thrust out in maximum extension. Her massive breasts swelled, straining the thin silk of her blouse. Her thick nipples protruded obscenely, jutting upward at a forty-five degree angle like little cannons mounted on the bows of twin battleships. Jimmy was unable to speak, his words frozen in his mouth. Christine held that pose for about five seconds, and then slowly set her glass on the table. Then she pounced.. Christine turned to Jimmy, swung her left leg over both of his and sat on him, straddling his waist. Before he could react she wrapped her arms around his head and planted a sloppy kiss on his face. Realizing that she needed a better camera angle, she turned to his side so that the camera would capture the two of them kissing in profile. Still holding his head and with her mouth attached to his, she counted to ten before she felt him starting to fight back. One picture down, three to go, she thought. Now it will get interesting. Jimmy was about to respond to Dr. Baron's threat when he was stunned by the sight of her nearly naked titties jutting out from her body, her thick nipples begging to be pinched and sucked, as she finished her glass of wine. He was momentarily hypnotized, when all of a sudden Dr. Baron jumped on him and started kissing him. Even though he was powerless before the sight of those jugs, her mouth touching his lips was enough to shock him back to reality. What the hell is she doing?! Jimmy pushed Christine off of him, but she was back on a second later. Jimmy grabbed her by her wrists and tried to push her backward, but she leaned forward, offsetting his defense. She climbed on top of his lap, planting her knees in his thighs to give her leverage. Her big boobs were now hanging directly in Jimmy's face, entirely blocking his vision as they jiggled back and forth. He could smell her aroma, a mixture of flowery perfume, womanly perspiration, and even a little alcohol on her breath. She outweighed him by nearly one hundred pounds, all of which was directly on top of him and forcing him down on the sofa. "Suck my breasts, Mr. Cummings. Go ahead. Suck them. You know you want to. You have not stopped staring at them since you entered my office an hour ago. Go ahead. Suck them." Christine shook her breasts in Jimmy's face, battering his nose and cheeks with her massive orbs. She continued leaning on him, pushing him backward, forcing his body to recline on the sofa. When she had him fully reclined, she shifted her weight forward, pinning his torso with her body. Jimmy tried to fight back with his one free hand, but he was helpless as he laid on his back with her entire weight pressing him into the sofa. She forced one of his hands into the space between the sofa and his torso, and then bent it under his back. Confident that she now could hold him with one hand, she let go of his other hand and grasped the front of her blouse, ripping it open. She pulled her breasts over the top of the demi-cupped bra, allowing them to hang unfettered in Jimmy's face. What is this crazy bitch doing?! I've got to get her off me! Jimmy continued struggling, even as his face was battered by Christine's enormous tits. "Suck it Mr. Cummings. Suck it. Stop fighting. Just do what comes naturally. Suck it." Seeing no hope of escape, Jimmy gave in, stopped struggling, and opened his mouth. I have no choice, he thought. I'll go along for a few minutes. Sitting aside his groin, holding his hands above his head and leaning over so that her breasts were in Jimmy's face, Christine felt his mouth open and his lips wrap around her thick, engorged nipple. Two pics down, two more to go, she thought. I can't believe the little shit is giving up so easily. He's nothing but a spoiled little bitch. Basking in the glow of her triumph, Christine did not notice that she was becoming aroused. Her nipples had been rigid for the last hour, but that was due more to the thrill of springing her trap than any carnal desire. But now, as Jimmy was obediently sucking her nipples, alternating from one thick stem to the other, she felt a growing warmth between her legs. What the fuck? Am I getting turned on by this little monster? It cannot be. Despite her refusal to believe it, Christine felt herself becoming more and more aroused. It's been so long. So god damned long. Three years since James last made love to me. No wonder I am getting aroused by this asshole sucking my nipples. I better start lining up the next shot before this situation gets out of control. "That's enough, Mr. Cummings. That's enough," she said, sitting up straight. Now comes the hard part. Jimmy relaxed when he heard Christine say 'that's enough.' Fat whore got her titties sucked, now I can go, he thought. She sure went through a lot of trouble to get my mouth on those jugs. Bitch must be seriously hard up for a good fuck. I pity the poor fool who falls into that trap. Placing her hands on Jimmy's chest, Christine lifted her ass off of Jimmy's torso and shifted her weight. Jimmy let out a long sigh and then took a deep breath, his lungs unrestrained by her mass for the first time in several minutes. Instead of standing up, however, Christine quickly spun on her heels and turned her ass toward Jimmy's face, intending once again to pin him to the sofa with her body. An instant before he was about to be pinned to the sofa for the second time, Jimmy recognized the danger and rolled toward the edge of the sofa, facing the floor. Christine dropped her weight on him, causing the two of them to fall to the floor, knocking the coffee table over with the impact of both bodies. Christine landed on top of Jimmy, her weight crushing his sternum. The impact knocked the wind from him, leaving him momentarily stunned. Christine pulled her skirt up over her ass, bunching it around her waist. I hope the camera can capture this, she thought. Is aimed it at the sofa. Sitting on Jimmy's chest, this time with her face pointed toward his feet, she removed her torn blouse and unclasped her bra. She was now naked from the waist up, and her ass was totally exposed. She started inching her ass backward, moving closer and closer toward Jimmy's face. Jimmy regained his senses just as the light went out in the room. What the hell?! He recovered his breath, only to find his face totally smothered by Christine's thick thighs and fat ass. He could hear her talking, but the words were muffled. He realized that his ears were completely closed by the nylon covered flesh pressing in on the sides of his head. "Lick me Mr. Cummings, lick my pussy,"Christine chirped. "Taste my ass. Eat it Mr. Cummings, eat it all. Eat it like it's your last meal." Christine rocked backward, pressing all of her weight on Jimmy's face. She rocked back and forth, pressing her cunt on his mouth. Christine continued pushing down on Jimmy's face, oblivious to the fact that her body had completely covered his mouth and nose. Jimmy knew, however, that he was running out of breath, and started bucking desperately. Despite his best efforts, he could not throw her off by bucking. Realizing he was about to pass out, Jimmy started slapping her back, flailing his arms wildly and striking her with open palms. The sound of his hands smacking her back -- and the sudden stinging -- finally got Christine's attention. "Oh, so you want to get rough, Mr. Cummings? I will show you rough. I have great big box of rough with your name written all over it. "NOW LICK MY PUSSY!" she screamed, bouncing her ass on his face. As she lifted her ass in preparation for another downward thrust, she heard Jimmy pleading. "Stop." Smash. She dropped her ass on his face. "Can't," Smash. She dropped her ass on his face again. "Breathe." Smash. "Stop." Smash. "Please." Christine finally realized that she was actually suffocating Jimmy. She leaned forward, lifting her ass off his face, giving him a chance to breathe. "Alright, Mr. Cummings. I hear you. Do not ever say that I am unfair. You will start licking until I tell you to stop, and I will let you breathe. But if you struggle, or stop licking, then you might find yourself waking up in the campus health center. Do we have an understanding?" "Yes," he gasped. Christine leaned forward, lifted her ass slightly, and repositioned herself so that she was now lying directly on Jimmy's torso, facing his feet, with her crotch resting on his nose. Her face was now inches from his groin. Christine noticed, for the first time, that Jimmy had a rather prominent bulge in the front of his shorts. She put that thought out of her head and started rocking back and forth on Jimmy's face. "You can start licking me now, Mr. Cummings." Jimmy took a deep breath and was instantly repulsed. Christine's vagina was not exactly foul, but with no time to freshen up before their 'meeting,' she was not exactly pristine, either. Jimmy inhaled a noseful of sweat, a faint residue of piss, and the overpowering musk of female arousal. He held his breath once again and extended his tongue, tasting those same aromas in concentrated form. As her lips met his tongue, Jimmy was both amazed and repulsed by the amount of moisture and the thickness of the fur covering her fat cunt. Of course she has a full bush, he thought. Anything to make this more difficult. And her cunt is soaked. This bitch is really turned on! She's fucking whacked. Christine was shocked at first to feel Jimmy's wet tongue making contact with her vagina. How did he get my panties off?, she wondered. Then she realized that she forgot to put them on when she was changing in the restroom. After a few seconds she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation of Jimmy's tongue as he licked her pussy and ass. Still not realizing that she was becoming sexually aroused, she involuntarily rubbed her soaking wet slit all over Jimmy's face, from his chin to his nose. The warmth between her legs increased, spreading down her thick thighs, causing her to increase the pace of her rocking. She almost forgot to let Jimmy breathe, but was startled out of her growing bliss when she once again felt him slapping her, this time on the cheek of her ass. She lifted her crotch from his face, let him take several deep breaths, and then once again lowered her crotch to his mouth. After a few minutes the two of them developed a rhythm, with Christine rocking forward far enough for Jimmy to catch his breath before she rocked backward and rode his face and tongue for several seconds. I think I'm going to have an orgasm, Christine realized. In all our years of marriage, James never licked me to an orgasm. Even though Christine continued to feel the warmth spreading and intensifying, her orgasm eluded her. She rocked back and forth and rode Jimmy's face like a dildo, but she could not cum. Jimmy was not interested in her pleasure, and was doing no more than he was required to do in order to breathe. Having never before experienced an orgasm through oral stimulation, Christine did not know how to direct Jimmy to provide the proper stimulation. Once again, I am disappointed by a man named 'James,' she thought. I might as well get this over with and then go home and take care of myself. I only need to get one more picture, but this one will be the most difficult. Christine rocked forward, placing her face just inches from Jimmy's groin. Time to see what he has inside these shorts. She grabbed the edge of his shorts and pulled the velcro tabs apart, completely opening the fly. His erect cock sprung out of the shorts, standing straight and proud, obscenely relishing its freedom from confinement. Oh my god! Its beautiful!, Christine gasped. Jimmy's prick stood up straight and tall, jutting eight and one half inches into the air. Its so long, and so thick. Its so much more, what's the word? Massive! So much more massive than James' penis. Oh my god! Before she could even realize what she was doing, Christine reached for Jimmy's cock and started stroking it. Mesmerized by the power of his erection, she forgot about riding Jimmy's face. She was suddenly overcome by the irresistible urge to taste Jimmy's prick. Holding his cock in both hands, she inched her body forward until her mouth was poised over the plum-shaped head. She simultaneously extended her tongue and inhaled deeply. God damn! The little shit's cock smells like pussy. The fucker already had sex today! He probably fucked that skinny whore, Megan, before class. Christine suddenly felt a wave of jealousy overwhelm her. That wave triggered an unexpected feeling of possessiveness. By the time I'm done with this cock he will have my scent permanently affixed to him. All his whores will know he belongs to me. Christine licked the purple head, bathing it with her tongue. She cupped his balls with one hand, and continued stroking his long shaft with the other. Its so beautiful. So big and beautiful. Its perfect. She continued licking and stroking, enjoying the tactile sensations of the rigid shaft in her hand and the spongy head against her tongue. She had blown her ex-husband before -- and actually enjoyed giving him oral pleasure -- but never before had she felt such a need to have her lips wrapped around a cock. She opened her mouth and lowered her face, swallowing the bulbous head. Mmmmmmmmmm, its so warm and delicious. This cock is a work of art. I cannot wait to get it inside me. Jimmy was stunned by this turn of events. He cursed his cock for betraying him. How in the fuck can I be hard? Why is my cock responding to her? He tried to force his dick to resume its flaccid state, but it refused to obey. To make matters even worse, he felt his balls beginning to tingle. The fat bitch is going to get a face full of cum if she's not careful. Gripping the steel-hard shaft with both hands, Christine lowered her mouth, intent on swallowing Jimmy's entire cock. She opened her mouth as wide as possible, being careful to avoid scraping her teeth on that beautiful piece of male flesh. I never worked so hard to satisfy James, she thought. But James never gave me such a glorious prize, either. Despite her best efforts, Christine was only able to get her mouth halfway down Jimmy's shaft. Her jaws just would not stretch wide enough to take the rest. With that realization, she concentrated her efforts on the part of his cock that was firmly lodged in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, pausing occasionally to lick the underside of the head, which she knew to be the most sensitive part of the entire cock. She felt her saliva drooling out of her mouth and running down the shaft, providing extra lubrication for her hands that were busy pumping the base of Jimmy's cock. She completely forgot about Jimmy's promise to lick her pussy. She was mesmerized by the cock she held in both hands and her mouth.