Slutty Teacher Quadruple Hanging (FFFF hanging, public sex, orgy)
Four slutty adjunct professors, united by an unfortunate preference for freshman cock and a certain ethical laxity about marking up the grades of the young men who provided it to them with great gusto, are hanged by the neck until dead. They go to their graves just as sluttily as they lived.
Contains some minor orientation play aspects.
(Two in one day, I'm spoiling you all. This one happened by accident, it was supposed to be 250 words but it just kept rolling along.)
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Slutty Teacher Quadruple Hanging
"I think I speak for all the... remaining faculty of Smith College when I say I'm delighted to put this scandal behind us."
President Carlyle, a slender woman with dark hair and a flattering red dress, looked over at the four women who shared the stage with her. Unlike her, they were nude except for high heels and a thin shift that was much too short to conceal their charms. Their only other ornament was a noose around each lovely neck and handcuffs holding their hands behind them.
Especially that slut Jane Kelso, Carlyle thought venomously. She would be delighted when that particular sneaky bitch was no longer a thorn in her side.
The four doomed adjunct professors shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of the student body. They were a mixed group – sultry Latina Ms. Rodriguez; petite, tight-bodied black Mrs. Porter, whose wife had bawled her eyes out upon hearing Mrs. Porter was getting railed on a daily basis by her male students, and insisted on attending the execution; curvy, confused-looking blonde Ms. Casey, and the arch-slut herself, statuesque redhead Jane Kelso.
The thing that united them was an unfortunate preference for freshman cock and a certain ethical laxity about marking up the grades of the young men who provided it to them with great gusto, which under college rules and per their contracts of employment, was punishable by hanging.
The leaked pictures that had flooded social media during the scandal had included Jane Kelso getting plowed on her own desk by President Carlyle’s own nineteen-year-old son, and the president had made sure that the ultimate penalty was decided on for the four.
Flushing red, Carlyle pushed a button, and the nooses jerked tight, raising the four slutty teachers a few inches off the stage.
Nice and slow, you whores.
The students had erupted in applause as the four sexy women began to kick and gurgle and twist.
“Hell yeah, dance for us, Rodriguez!”
“Hey, Jerry! You got sucked off by all of them, right? Who’s going to last the longest?”
“Oh, Kelso, for sure.”
“Shake that tight little ass, Mrs. Porter!”
President Carlyle knew she should hush them, but the evil thrill she felt in her belly at the verbal abuse kept her from stepping in.
Let them have their fun. As long as I can still hear these whores choking.
The four professors had been strung up very close to each other, and as they writhed, desperate for air, they bumped and rubbed against each other in a way that made Carlyle’s clit twinge and sent flutters of heat lightning over her skin.
She saw Mrs. Porter’s sleek black legs part, and Ms. Rodriguez’s thigh found its way between them. As Porter’s hips rolled, it looked like she was humping the Latina’s soft brown skin.
The students went wild.
“Fuck that slut, Ms. Rodriguez!”
“Give the little whore a last orgasm!”
Fuck me, that’s so hot, Carlyle thought, licking her lips.
She could hear the noises the four strangling bitches were making, the gurgles and sputters and ragged choking sounds, and as Mrs. Porter ground her pussy on Ms. Rodriguez’s thigh, Carlyle heard the petite black girl’s tone change. A pleading, whimpering note entered her moans, and then her face scrunched up, thighs shaking.
She’s cumming. That slut is actually cumming.
It was all Carlyle could do not to stick her fingers up her dress right there on the stage.
Among the murmurs of the crowd, she could hear boys comparing notes.
“Yeah, I only had Porter once, but Ms. Casey had an open-door policy. I think I dumped a couple dozen loads in that hot body. She never even got mad when I jizzed in her hair.”
“Did anyone… Hey, Jerry, you fucked them all, right? You aren’t buying your own drinks tonight, my man!”
“Who was the tightest? I fucked Kelso and Rodriguez, but Porter I only got to buttfuck, so that’s not really a fair comparison.”
“Oh yeah, she loved it up the ass. You know one time I was buttfucking her when her wife called. It was so hot hearing her try and keep it together on the phone while I was rearranging her guts.”
Carlyle’s ears perked up and she scanned the crowd, almost instantly picking the other, soon-to-be-widowed Mrs. Porter. She was a slim, dusky half-Indian woman with beautiful shimmering black hair hanging down to her round, toned butt.
That butt was currently being enthusiastically groped by a couple of male students, and Mrs. Porter – Amali, Carlyle thought – was just as enthusiastically submitting to their attentions. She was leaning back against them, moaning, and as Carlyle watched one of the boys began openly fondling her breasts.
I suppose getting spitroasted by college hunks is one way to get your revenge on a cheating spouse, Carlyle thought, smiling.
Then her attention was back on the gradually slowing movements of her four horny professors. Their bodies were constantly entwining. Hips jerking, butts pressing together, pussies getting rubbed by random body parts.
Jesus, they’re such sluts for it.
Wriggling, gurgling, straining for breath but feeling those sweet soft bodies rubbing against theirs, the hot gazes of the onlookers, the sexual electricity in the air...
Carlyle realized her assessment of Mrs. Porter, her amusement at the black girl’s orgasmic performance, was wrong. It wasn’t unusual for her to have climaxed on Rodriguez’s soft brown thigh.
How could they help themselves? How could they stop themselves from cumming even if they wanted to?
Jane Kelso seemed to be resisting the most. Carlyle could see it on her face – eyes squeezed shut, mouth tight, mascara tears dripping down her cheeks.
Carlyle’s heart skipped a beat.
Then Ms. Casey made a loud rattling sound. Her face was painfully dark, her eyes bulging, tongue protruding, drool splattering her sexy body. And as she entered her final death throes, she turned away from Jane, and her hands found their way between the redhead’s thighs, her fingers clutching automatically, pressing hard on Jane’s clitoris.
Jane Kelso’s eyes shot wide open and she gave a strangled scream as her battle for dignity ended in a howling public orgasm. With that scream, her body went wild, toes curling, fingers clawing, butt shaking as she fucked air.
Yes! Yes! Cum for it, cum on that noose like a fucking slut, you redheaded bimbo cunt!
Carlyle bent forward over the podium, internal shockwaves making her belly quiver and her pussy boil. She thought she was going to orgasm right there, without even touching herself.
She looked over again to see Casey’s body fall still, just an occasional tremor passing through it. Rodriguez was getting her second wind, jerking hard now, saliva bubbles on her lips as her bloodshot eyes roved randomly.
The crowd was practically devolving into an orgy as Rodriguez gurgled away her last seconds of life, her tanned body giving its final violent movements and hanging there, still except when Mrs. Porter’s butt bumped her and set her swinging.
Mrs. Porter was the smallest of the women, which had helped her last longer – and experience more of the agonizing sensation of asphyxiation, the rope digging into her neck, the terror and ecstasy of her own extended execution.
Carlyle hoped she had seen Amali being lustfully manhandled, possibly by some of the very same boys who had pumped hot loads of cum up Mrs. Porter’s tight little butthole.
The black woman’s face had shifted from painful pleasure into a mask of horror as the end approached. Her body was slowing, its last energies expended in her orgasmic spasms. She didn’t even have the energy for a final dance like Rodriguez and Casey had given. Her fingers were wriggling, her feet extending, searching for the floor.
Then she made a low, sad, wet choking sound and died. Out in the crowd, Carlyle heard a scream of pleasure Amali Porter orgasmed to her wife’s death. She saw the woman being half-dragged away by the two students who’d been groping her. One had his hand inside her waistband, working busily, and Carlyle could hear the woman’s continued whimpering moans.
She wondered if the woman knew what she had been getting into, and realized that she didn’t care. A small pack of college boys were following the trio, and Carlyle knew Amali was in for a long, exhausting night of having all of her holes energetically serviced by hard young cocks, just like Mrs. Porter’s had been on a regular basis.
With a catlike smile, Carlyle turned her attention back to Jane Kelso. She caught the redhead staring at her, begging or cursing Carlyle didn’t know.
She looked out at the crowd again. There were students actually fucking now, not caring who saw. Very few were watching the last moments of Jane’s life, so she walked over towards the foursome.
With a sigh of pleasure, she slid her right hand up Jane’s thigh and pressed it to her soaking wet pussy, where Casey had so recently accidentally pleasured her.
“That sounded like a really good cum earlier,” Carlyle said softly, watching Jane’s eyes flickering. She was so close to the void.
Carlyle slid two fingers into her, felt her weakly fluttering around them, pressed her thumb to Jane’s clitoris and was rewarded with a guttural whimper.
No longer caring, she began to rub herself through her dress with her left hand, faster and faster, as Jane’s eyes rolled back in her head and saliva dripped from her extended tongue.
“You have one more in you, don’t you, Jane?” Carlyle said. “Just one more before you fucking die?”
Jane’s hips moved, jerky and awkward, no longer the smooth motion they’d had so recently before.
Fuck this was incredible. Just incredible. Carlyle’s face twitched, her mouth pursing up, and then as Jane’s pussy tightened around her fingers in orgasm, she was cumming herself, a tremendous wave rocking her entire body until she was gasping and moaning, still rubbing herself.
When she recovered and looked up, panting, Jane Kelso was dead.
God, how must that have felt?
She could barely imagine it, but there was a hollow feeling in her belly, a deep craving need.
Four months after the quadruple hanging, two more scandals further dragged the reputation of Smith College through the mud.
First, Amali Porter was found wandering the streets in a daze, nude, dripping with young men’s cum. When the police were able to get any kind of story at all out of her, it came out that she had been living since the execution at a succession of fraternity houses, getting railed stupid every waking hour of the day until she had gone completely out of her mind. There was no proof any of it was exactly rape, and the police didn’t care to investigate further, so they turned Amali back over to the handsome, well-put-together young men who came to pick her up. No crimes, but not the sort of thing you wanted your college in the news for.
The second thing was the discovery of President Carlyle’s body dead of autoerotic asphyxiation. Her sexy MILF body was discovered hanging by the neck from her doorknob, facing a laptop on which was playing a loop of the execution. There was a look of terror and joy on her face and a massive artificial cock buried in her pussy, still vibrating.
Posted Jul 12, 2025, 6:49 PM UTC