#06 Proper Student Usage Method 1
A sweet fragrance wafted from the officetel plunged into total darkness. One of the things Yuchan always puzzled over was why women's rooms always carried this cloying scent. He closed the door with exquisite care, ensuring not even a whisper of sound betrayed him. Slipping off his shoes, he padded in on tiptoe. The place was as immaculate as yesterday, the only change being the laundry pile that had vanished from the floor where it lay scattered.
Steam rose from the bathroom right next to the entryway, the dampness from water that hadn't fully dried. Yuchan, masked and capped in case Nayae stirred midway, set down only what he needed from his sports bag. No sound pierced the air save her steady breathing.
He fished a lens case from his pocket. Inside, a solution of finely crushed Rohypnol-based sedative dissolved in water filled it, with a stamp soaked through in the center, absorbing the liquid. Rohypnol was utterly different from the GHB or zolpidem he'd prepared yesterday. Abroad, it was slangily called Rope—a pun on its pronunciation—or the Forget-me Pill. Its sleep induction lasted longer than the others, and it came bundled with amnesia.
Kneeling silently at her bedside, Yuchan held his breath and gently pried open Nayae's mouth. This was the riskiest part—if her eyes fluttered open now, there'd be no crossing back from that river. He slipped the drug-soaked stamp under her tongue. Before he could even register the soft, hot texture of her tongue, he withdrew his hand and melted into the room's corner.
Now came the waiting. Even in sleep, she'd swallow reflexively, and the Rohypnol saturating the paper would kick in around thirty minutes later. A 1mg oral dose took effect after thirty minutes and lasted about eight hours—more than enough, so Yuchan extracted the paper from her mouth after roughly twenty, when she slumbered even deeper.
Today's outfit was white pajama pants matched with a top, fluffy clouds sketched in sky blue across the woolen fabric—a picture of innocent slumber, endearingly lamb-like. Her hair, usually tied up, hung loose and relaxed, lending her a touch more maturity.
Rohypnol's vicious edge was how, thirty minutes post-dose, it stripped victims of self-control, plunging them into an uninhibited haze. They became passively compliant to any demand, judgment and motor skills shattered like a drunk's. And from that point until the drug wore off, total amnesia blanked it all out. No wonder it was one of Yuchan's favorites.
Nayae would thrash through far more aggressive play today, drowned in varied degradations. Even if fragments surfaced later, they'd feel like dream scraps.
Allowing a buffer, Yuchan checked his watch for forty minutes, then stripped and rose leisurely. As before, he rigged the camcorder on its tripod. These videos would find their use someday.
"Nayae, time to wake up. It's supplementary lesson time."
Straddling her belly in full mount, Yuchan kneaded her breasts over the pajamas like they were his property. No hesitation now, unlike earlier caution. The wool enhanced their plush give, a sublime feel. But drugged into deep sleep by Rohypnol, she wouldn't stir easily.
With a theatrical sigh of helplessness, Yuchan slipped his arms under her armpits and hauled her upper body upright. Limp as a doll with shattered joints, Nayae slumped against him. He lifted her fully, stripped the bedding, and laid out a massive towel instead to catch any fluids—no traces at the crime scene. He settled her back down.
Not bad, but too much like yesterday—zero thrill. Discarding caution, Yuchan yanked off her pajama pants and panties with rough tugs. She wouldn't wake from this, and if she did, no matter. She wouldn't remember anyway.
Fresh soap scent rose from her pale, supple skin. Bottomless now, Nayae frowned faintly in discomfort. Yuchan repositioned her arms into a surrender pose and stripped off the pajama top. Her breasts, dragged upward by the fabric, bounced back with mesmerizing jiggle.
"Still sleeping?"
He tapped her cheek lightly, calibrated not to bruise. Her head lolled with each slap, but after five, awareness flickered in.
"Hic... Ah..."
Her drug-fogged eyes refused focus. Yuchan paused his slaps and whispered kindly.
"How's that? Do you know who I am?"
"Ah..."
Thumbing her mouth into a lopsided grin, he stared down. Nayae's gaze tracked his invading finger without resistance. Perfect condition. A twinge of boredom crept in, but then she murmured sluggishly.
Her eyes roamed, landing on her naked form and the man astride it.
"...Yu...chan... Teacher...?"
Sloth-slow, her hand brushed his forearm clutching her breast, then slid limply to her chest. No grasp of her situation, why this was happening.
"That's right, your favorite Teacher Yuchan."
His tone matched their usual counseling sessions—relaxed, steady gaze unchanged. But in her pupils, his eyes burned with monstrous hunger, devouring the feast before him bone and all. No warmth or care, just rapacious appetite.
Faint confusion and betrayal clouded Nayae's face. Even judgment dulled by drugs, she contrasted this with the teacher she'd trusted. In this barren world where gratitude and faith withered, how precious this disciple.
"Why...? Like this, right now..."
Her disjointed words dragged; no time to indulge. Yuchan pinned one flailing arm with his knee and mounted her chest. Her full breasts pillowed his ass like cushions.
"You've been tempting me with that delicious body. Gotta grant your wish and fuck you, right?"
Gripping his throbbing shaft's tip, he slapped her face like shaking off piss. Dry smacks made her wince.
"No... don't want..."
"It's fine. You'll feel good soon. And after today, no memories—just back to harmonious counselor and client. Happy, right, Nayae?"
He smeared precum over her lips like lipstick. Their moist cling and hot breath stoked his lust. Tears welled in her hazy eyes. Lying supine, they traced her temples; Yuchan admired them like fine craftsmanship. Moments like this filled the vast void in him with inexplicable fullness.
"Teacher... don't... do this..."
A rare savage thrill pounded his chest—unlike yesterday. His naked student reacted to every move, utterly defenseless without a stitch.
Yuchan pried her jaw and hauled out her tongue. Fully relaxed, no resistance. In oblivious despair, ignorant of her state, her eyes were adorable.
"Wanna say hi to the cock about to enter you? Can't just shove in without warning—your pretty pussy might get startled."
"Mmph... mmph..!!"
He stuffed her mouth. At nearly 180cm, Yuchan dwarfed her 156cm frame in every way. Even maxing her jaw, his cock barely fit, teeth grazing despite the pinned tongue. He savored her oral mucosa anyway, inching deep. Her extended tongue cradled the underside thickly, lips tentatively sheathing the base.
Thrust mercilessly to her throat, her face flushed crimson instantly.
"Mmph... glurk..."
Rocking slowly, he plumbed her depths. Throat flesh, distinct from pussy, softly enveloped his glans. Studying her retch-convulsed yet immobile expression, Yuchan cataloged another emotional specimen: prim Nayae, choking on forced cock, hiccuping. What thoughts birthed this face? What emotions, in what ratios?
Less rage than sorrow filled it. Even with fractured thoughts, betrayed by a trusted figure in unspeakable violation, she chose grief over hate. Yuchan realized why he'd fixated on her. So unlike his black malice—she picked sadness over spite when shattered by betrayal.
Irritation prickled. Her upright gaze seemed to reproach his emptiness.
"Pah... haa..."
Withdrawing from prodding her uvula, Nayae gulped air. Thick saliva webbed his shaft from her invaded depths. Sticky strands evoked warmed lube. Coughing ragged breaths heaved her fine tits wildly.
Yuchan circled behind her head. No headboard, so he shoved pillows aside and dragged her up. Gripping hair like butchering venison, he wrenched her neck back. Before resistance, her head dangled off the bed; she flailed briefly, then stilled. Lifting it now would tax her.
This straightened her esophagus for easy deepthroat. Normally, vomit cleanup would be hell sans experience, but dulled reflexes made it feasible with breath control.
"Why... are you... glrk..."
Her yogic contortion choked words harder, but Yuchan ignored, ramming in. Hip-slam drove his glans past uvula into esophagus. Her taut neck skin bulged thickly around it.
"Glurk...!! Hrk...!! Gaaark...!!!"
Light thrusts drew agonized coughs and gags. Yuchan pinched a nipple, hoisting her breast—weighty, coning like K-company chocolate from milky droplet.
Deeper pushes made her slim legs twitch faintly, like sleep stirs.
"I helped you too, right? A grateful student settles her teacher's lust with her body."
"Glrk... mmph... cough..!!"
Glans in esophagus, cumming now risked no airway spill. Cleanup easy. So deciding, Yuchan hilted brutally, ravaging her mouth-pussy. White ropes jetted from his tip, flooding straight to her gut past swallowing chance, thick and unrelenting.