Scarlet watched the clock, waiting restlessly for the end of English, her last class of the day. The 15 year old girl was very intelligent, but also quite the athlete. As a star varsity soccer and lacrosse player in only her sophomore year, she was very fit and had a sexy, tight ass followed by lean, tanned legs. The 5'7'' teen had B-cup tits that, while slightly on the smaller side, were perfectly firm and round. She had long light brown hair and beautiful blue eyes.
She saw, with dismay, that almost twenty minutes remained of the class. Her teacher, Mr. Wilson, was in his mid-thirties and was, to be honest, smoking hot. Scarlet often found herself conjuring up sexy fantasies about him, but always stopped herself. Many of the girls in her class (most of them older than her, as she was advanced) were constantly flirting with Mr. Wilson during class. Scarlet refused to act so pathetic, which was one of the reasons why she was acing tests while the other girls bombed them.
Suddenly, a phone vibrated loudly. She grinned sympathetically to herself at the poor kid who would very likely recieve a detention, as her school had a strict no-phone policy. However, she soon realized that the vibrating was coming from her own bag. She looked up to find Mr. Wilson next to her desk. Embarassed, she took out her phone and handed it to him, but not before she saw the screen. The text was from Mike, her violent ex-boyfriend. She dumped him a week ago aftet he hit her and he was not happy about it.
"See me after class," Mr. Wilson said. Scarlet sighed. Not only was she worried about being late or missing lacrosse practice, but she was afraid that Mike sent her another threatening text message. After the break-up, he had not been able to leave her alone.
After the bell rang and students began to file out, Scarlet walked over to Mr. Wilson's desk.
"You know better, Scarlet," he said, a serious look on his face. "Phones should be off and in your locker."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry." Scarlet offered a slight smile to try to convince him not to give her detention.
"No more phones in class?" he asked. She agreed and promised to follow the rules. "Okay," he said. "I'll let you off with a warning. But there's something I think I should ask you about." His stern look, she soon realized, was really one of concern. "When I took your phone, I couldn't help reading the text message. It's from Mike, that senior, I think. It says..." he cleared his throat. "Umm, 'bitch, you're not getting away that easy. I'll find you, slut, and you'll pay for what you did to me.'"
Scarlet closed her eyes for a short moment, then flashed Mr. Wilson an incredibly fake smile. "Don't worry about it," she said. "It's just a joke." Mr. Wilson clearly did not believe her but let her go, telling her to be careful. Scarlet thanked him and ran off to lacrosse practice.
Next week, as the threats kept coming, Scarlet became more and more worried. One day, as Scarlet was walking to English, a large hand covered her mouth from behind as the other hand dragged her away. She knew it was Mike, and she knew where they were. It was an empty classroom where textbooks and other supplies were kept that they used to hookup in.
Mike threw Scarlet against the wall. She banged her head and became slightly disoriented. She begged him to stop, but he was clearly not worried about her feelings. He kissed her on her lips, his tongue jamming down her throat while he roughly pulled off her shirt. He took his hands off her for a moment to unbutton his pants. She seized the opportunity and punched him in the nose. He fell back and then angrily pounced on her. She was strong, but the muscular football player was much larger than her. He laid most of his body weight on top of her and undid her jeans. Pulling them down along with her panties, he wasted no time and rammed his big cock up her tight pussy. She cried out in pain, and he slapped her across the face. He thrusted into her hard and fast and with each push made her wince and beg him to stop more and more. After fucking her for only a few minutes, he came inside her. He got up, dressed himself, and left the room, all without saying a word to her the whole time.
Scarlet remained on the floor motionless for a minute, crying softly. She pulled her jeans up and was sad to see that her top was ripped right down the front. She peeked out the door to check that no one was there and headed towards a back door in her maroon lacy bra.
Looking down, she collided with someone. She turned her head to realize that it was Mr. Wilson.
"Scarlet! What are you doing here? What happened to you? Are you okay?" He put his hand on her shoulder and looked into her sad eyes. She didn't answer him. Awkardly, but confortingly, he took her into his arms and embraced her. He ignored her running eye make up and he ignored the blood trickling from the gash in her forehead. He kissed her gently on the top of her head. "It's alright." he whispered. "You'll be alright."
Scarlet couldn't help but notice his hard dick poking into her leg.