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Chapter 1 The night sky erupted in a blinding flash, followed by an earth-shattering boom. Ollie's world spun violently as the car careened off the road, metal screeching against asphalt. "Mom! Dad!" Ollie cried out, his voice hoarse with panic. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils as he struggled to move. "I can't... I can't feel my legs!" Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the chaos. "Hey! Can you hear me? I'm coming to get you out!" Brock's muscular form appeared at the shattered window, his open flannel shirt revealing a glimpse of his impressive chest beneath a tight tank top. With a grunt, he wrenched the door open. "Easy now, kid. I've got you," Brock said, his strong arms wrapping around Ollie's slender frame. "What's your name?" "O-Ollie," he stammered, wincing as Brock pulled him free. "My parents... they're still inside!" Brock's eyes darted to the front of the car, assessing the situation. "I'll get them. Just stay put, alright?" As Brock turned back toward the wreckage, a deafening explosion rocked the night. Flames engulfed the vehicle, the heat searing against their skin. "No!" Ollie screamed, trying to lunge forward despite his immobile legs. Brock caught him, holding him back. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry," Brock's voice cracked with genuine anguish. He fumbled for his phone, dialing quickly. "This is Dr. Brock Steele. I need emergency services on Route 7, about 10 miles outside of Millbrook. Car explosion, two fatalities, one injured teenager." Ollie sobbed against Brock's chest, leaving streaks of blood on the white tank top. Brock's arm tightened around him protectively. "Listen, Ollie," Brock said, his tone urgent but gentle. "The ambulance might take a while to get here. I'm going to drive you to the hospital myself, okay? We need to get you checked out." "But my parents..." Ollie choked out. Brock's face was a mask of sympathy and determination. "There's nothing we can do for them now. We need to focus on you. Can you trust me?" Ollie looked up, meeting Brock's intense gaze. Despite the horror of the situation, he felt an inexplicable sense of safety in this stranger's arms. He nodded weakly. "That's good, kid. You're being real brave," Brock said, scooping Ollie up as if he weighed nothing. "My car's just up the road. We'll get you help, I promise." As Brock carried him away from the burning wreckage, Ollie caught another glimpse of the man's muscular chest, peeking out from his partially unbuttoned shirt. Even in his grief-stricken state, Ollie couldn't help but notice the strength and warmth radiating from Brock's body. "Stay with me, Ollie," Brock's deep voice rumbled. "Keep talking. Tell me about yourself." As they made their way to Brock's car, Ollie's world narrowed to the sound of that voice and the feeling of those strong arms around him, a lifeline in the midst of unimaginable tragedy. Ollie's voice trembled as he spoke, his words punctuated by quiet sobs. "I... I just graduated high school. Was supposed to start college in the fall." Brock carefully maneuvered Ollie into the passenger seat of his car, his strong hands gentle as he buckled the seatbelt around the injured teen. "That's great, Ollie. What were you planning to study?" "Medicine," Ollie replied, his voice distant. "My dad... he was a doctor too. Always wanted me to follow in his footsteps." Brock's heart clenched at the pain in Ollie's voice. He reached over, giving the young man's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure he was very proud of you." As Brock sped towards the hospital, Ollie stared blankly out the window, tears streaming down his face. "I can't believe they're gone. What am I supposed to do now?" "One step at a time, kid," Brock said softly. "Right now, we focus on getting you better. The rest... we'll figure it out." They pulled up to the ER entrance, Brock jumping out and rushing to Ollie's side. He scooped the teen into his arms once more, carrying him through the automatic doors. "I need help here!" Brock called out, his voice commanding attention. Nurses and doctors swarmed around them, peppering Brock with questions. "Car accident. Possible spinal injury, multiple lacerations and contusions. Parents DOA at the scene," Brock rattled off, his tone professional despite the urgency. Ollie found himself being transferred to a gurney, the bright lights of the ER ceiling flashing above him. He reached out, his hand grasping for Brock. "Don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice small and frightened. Brock caught Ollie's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, Ollie. I'll be right here." As the medical team wheeled Ollie away, Brock's reassuring presence never wavered. Even as doctors and nurses worked to assess his injuries, Ollie's eyes remained locked on Brock, clinging to the strength and comfort the man provided. Hours later, Ollie lay in a hospital bed, his body bandaged and his heart heavy with grief. Brock sat beside him, still wearing his blood-stained tank top, his flannel shirt discarded somewhere along the way. "Why did you stay?" Ollie asked, his voice hoarse from crying. Brock leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Because you needed someone. And because... I know what it's like to lose everything in a single moment." Ollie's eyes widened, a flicker of understanding passing between them. In that instant, he felt a connection to Brock that went beyond mere gratitude. "Thank you," Ollie whispered, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "For saving me. For being here." Brock reached out, gently brushing a tear from Ollie's face. "You're not alone, Ollie. I promise you that." As Ollie lay in the hospital bed, his eyes drifted to Brock, taking in the man's appearance. Despite the blood stains on his white tank top, Brock's muscular physique was impossible to ignore. The fabric stretched taut across his broad chest, hinting at the powerful pectorals beneath. His shoulders and arms were equally impressive, the muscles flexing with each small movement. Even in his grief-stricken state, Ollie couldn't help but notice Brock's rugged handsomeness. The man's chiseled jawline, strong features, and kind eyes created a striking combination. However, given the tragedy that had just unfolded, Ollie felt no stirrings of arousal, only a deep appreciation for Brock's presence and support. Brock's appearance exudes raw masculinity and mature allure. His face is chiseled and handsome, with strong, defined features that hint at his 42 years. Dark, expressive eyebrows frame intense eyes that seem to hold depths of experience. His jawline is sharp and masculine, covered in a light dusting of stubble that accentuates his rugged appeal. Fine lines around his eyes and mouth add character, speaking to a life lived fully. His hair is short and neatly styled, dark and thick, cut close on the sides with a bit more length on top. It's the kind of no-nonsense cut that requires minimal maintenance but always looks put-together. Brock's body is a testament to his dedication as both a scientist and personal trainer. His frame is large and imposing, with broad shoulders tapering down to a solid core. His chest is expansive and well-developed, straining against the fabric of his shirts. His arms are thick and powerful, veins visible beneath the skin, speaking to both strength and vascularity. How I imagine what Brock would look like at this point of story, but less muscular, no abs, less body hair Model reference https://www.instagram.com/sergey.nyzhnyk/ A knock at the door drew their attention as a nurse and doctor entered the room. "Hello, Ollie," the doctor said gently, glancing at his chart. "I'm Dr. Patel, and this is Nurse Johnson. We're here to check on your injuries and get you started on treatment." Ollie nodded weakly, wincing as the nurse began to carefully remove the temporary bandages applied in the ER. Dr. Patel examined each wound, her skilled hands probing gently for signs of deeper damage. "The lacerations are fairly superficial," she noted, "but we'll need to clean and stitch a few of the deeper ones. Any pain or discomfort, Ollie?" "My legs," Ollie said, his voice strained. "I still can't feel them properly." Dr. Patel's expression turned serious. "We'll need to run some tests to assess the extent of the spinal injury. An MRI and CT scan will give us a better idea of what we're dealing with." As the doctor continued her examination, Nurse Johnson began cleaning and dressing Ollie's wounds. Brock watched, his brow furrowed with concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, his deep voice filled with genuine care. Nurse Johnson glanced up, offering Brock a small smile. "Just being here is helping, sir. Support from loved ones is crucial in the healing process." Brock nodded, his eyes meeting Ollie's. In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them - Brock would be the support Ollie needed, even if they had only just met. Dr. Patel finished her assessment, making notes on Ollie's chart. "We'll get you scheduled for those scans as soon as possible. In the meantime, try to rest. Your body has been through a lot." As the medical team left the room, Brock moved closer to Ollie's bedside. "You heard the doc, kid. Rest up. I'll be right here if you need anything." Ollie managed a small nod, his eyelids growing heavy. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the night's events finally caught up with him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep. Brock settled into the chair beside Ollie's bed, his muscular form seeming to dwarf the small hospital furniture. He watched over the young man, a silent guardian ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. In that quiet moment, a bond began to form between them, a connection forged in the crucible of shared tragedy and unexpected compassion. As the day progressed, Ollie found himself being wheeled through the hospital corridors, the sterile walls and fluorescent lights blurring together. Brock walked alongside the gurney, his presence a constant comfort in the unfamiliar surroundings. "We're taking you for the CT scan now, Ollie," Nurse Johnson explained gently. "It's a painless procedure, but it's important for us to get a clear picture of your spinal injury." Ollie nodded, his hands gripping the sides of the gurney. The fear of the unknown weighed heavily on his mind, compounded by the grief that still consumed him. Brock seemed to sense Ollie's anxiety. He placed a large, comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. "You've got this, kid. I'll be waiting for you when you're done." Ollie managed a weak smile, drawing strength from Brock's unwavering support. As he was positioned on the CT scanner, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of Brock's hand rather than the cold, clinical atmosphere. The scan seemed to take an eternity, the whirring and clicking of the machine filling Ollie's ears. When it was finally over, he was returned to his room, exhausted and emotionally drained. Brock was there, just as he had promised. He helped the nurses settle Ollie back into bed, his strong arms gentle and reassuring. Dr. Patel arrived shortly after, her expression serious as she reviewed the scan results. "Ollie, the CT scan shows significant swelling around your spinal cord. While there's no evidence of a complete spinal cord injury, the swelling is putting pressure on the nerves, which is likely causing the numbness and weakness in your legs." Ollie felt a wave of fear wash over him. "Will I... will I be able to walk again?" Dr. Patel met his gaze, her eyes filled with compassion. "It's too early to say for certain. Spinal injuries can be unpredictable. But we'll be starting you on high-dose corticosteroids to reduce the swelling, and we'll be monitoring your condition closely." Brock stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "What's the next step, doc?" "We'll be admitting Ollie to the hospital for further treatment and observation," Dr. Patel explained. "He'll need intensive physical therapy and rehabilitation to give him the best chance at recovery." Ollie felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, the weight of his situation crashing down on him. Not only had he lost his parents, but now he faced the possibility of never walking again. Brock seemed to sense Ollie's distress. He sat on the edge of the bed, his muscular frame dipping the mattress as he took Ollie's hand in his own. "Hey, look at me, Ollie. You're not facing this alone. I'll be with you every step of the way." Ollie met Brock's gaze, finding strength and comfort in those intense eyes. He nodded, swallowing back his tears. "Thank you, Brock. I don't... I don't know what I would do without you." Brock smiled softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of Ollie's hand. "You don't have to worry about that, kid. I'm not going anywhere." As the hospital staff bustled around them, making preparations for Ollie's admission, the young man clung to Brock's presence like a lifeline. The road ahead was uncertain and filled with challenges, but with Brock by his side, Ollie felt a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Ollie lay in his hospital bed, his mind began to wander. The trauma of the day mixed with the strong painkillers, creating a hazy state where reality blurred with fantasy. He found himself imagining Brock as the muscular daddy figure he'd always secretly dreamed about. In his mind's eye, Ollie saw Brock's powerful arms wrapping around him protectively, those broad pecs pressed against his back. He imagined Brock's deep voice whispering words of comfort and love, calling him "son" in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Ollie's cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and desire. Here he was, in the midst of tragedy, entertaining these forbidden thoughts about the man who had saved his life. He tried to push the images away, but they clung to the edges of his consciousness, a tempting escape from the harsh reality of his situation.

Dear readers After I got a lot of messages to send the story 'Classroom muscle tease' (again) and to put it back online, I decided to make a new account and put it back on here. I changed it here and there after some of your feedback, because after quite a lot of rewriting, there were some details that were not correct anymore, because I hadn't changed them along. I hope it is a bit better now like this. Before You read the story, I state hear loud and clear that I used AI for instructions and impulses for good writing and to help me structure the story and give me story advice (caracters, plots, cliffhangers, ...). The story line and the ideas, the caracters etc., however, are products of my own imagination. According to the mod, therefore the story belongs in this section and not in the AI section. I would also be very okay with it if the story needs to be moved, because 'some' level op AI is involved. I leave this decision to the mod. I'm also asking the moderator to please remove my 'old' topic, like he already proposed. I also used translation and grammar software, because English is not my own language. All constructive criticism is welcome. Anyone that does not like the above, please don't read this story. For everyone else: enjoy reading it and forgive any typos and / or grammar mistakes. If you want, I have 2 new chapters, but there is still very much rewriting to be done. ------------------------------------------------------------- "Hey, Mr. Castellanos, check this out," Derek said, flexing his biceps with a smirk. The classroom buzzed with the typical Monday morning chatter, but he knew that his muscular arm would draw the attention of the one person who mattered most—his math teacher, Mr. Castellanos. Derek had been eyeing the handsome, slightly older man with a burning desire since the first day of school, and he was determined to make the teacher's heart race just as fast as his own during their lessons. Mr. Castellanos glanced up from his paper work, his eyes lingering for a moment on Derek's bulging biceps before quickly shifting away. "Not now, Derek. We're about to start class," the teacher replied, his voice a mix of reprimand and restrained curiosity. Derek grinned to himself, knowing very well he had piqued the man's interest. He sat back in his chair, flexing his chest muscles subtly beneath his tight school polo, the fabric straining to contain his impressive physique. "Not bad for a guy that redently turned 18, huh?", Derek thought to himself. As Mr. Castellanos began explaining algebra equations on the blackboard, Derek leaned back in his chair, his forearms resting on the desk. He flexed them ever so slightly, the veins popping and the muscles rippling like waves in the ocean. The room grew a few degrees hotter as the teacher's gaze flickered down to the mesmerizing display, his own breath hitching for a brief moment. Derek's grin grew wider as he caught Mr. Castellanos's eyes lingering longer than they should. He knew the teacher was trying to keep his cool, but the way his pupils dilated and his Adam's apple bobbed suggested a different internal narrative. The sound of the chalk on the board seemed to echo louder as the tension grew. Derek leaned forward, his forearms flexing more dramatically. He began to tap his fingers, the muscles dancing with a tantalizing rhythm that seemed to sync with the teacher's pulse. Mr. Castellanos paused in the middle of his sentence, swallowed hard and took a step away from the board to regain his composure. His eyes darted back to Derek's arms, the veins standing out like a roadmap to pleasure, the muscles bulging with power. The young bodybuilder noticed the teacher's clear discomfort and felt a thrill of victory. He knew Mr. Castellanos was trying to resist, but the might of Derek's body was too much. Derek leaned closer, the fabric of his sleeves stretching tight against his skin, the outline of his forearms stark and defined. The scent of his sweat and the faint hint of cologne filled the air, a mix that seemed to thicken the very oxygen in the classroom. Mr. Castellanos cleared his throat and tried to resume the lesson, but his hand shook slightly as he wrote on the board. The sight of his student's arms, so close, so powerful, was distracting. He found himself imagining what it would be like to feel those muscles under his own touch, to trace the veins with his fingertips, to explore the strength that lay beneath the surface. Derek's flexing grew more deliberate, his wrists rotating, making the forearms bulge. The teacher's eyes darted back and forth, trying to focus on his work but drawn inexorably back to the show of strength before him. The room was silent except for the sound of Mr. Castellanos's hand moving across the board. His mind was racing, trying to think of a way to regain control of the situation, but all he could think about was the seductive dance of Derek's forearms. The rest of the class was oblivious to the silent war of wills playing out in the front row. Derek leaned back again, the muscles in his arms relaxing, and Mr. Castellanos took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his racing mind. The bell finally rang, and the class erupted into the usual activity's as students gathered their things. Derek took his sweet time, making sure his teacher had a full view of his retreating back and the muscles that played beneath his shirt. As the last student left, Mr. Castellanos turned to face the empty room, his heart thundering in his chest. He knew that the battle for his self-control had just begun, and he was already losing. The following morning, Derek arrived at school with a new plan. His forearms were already fully pumped from a morning workout, and he had brought two tourniquets in his backpack. During the math lesson, he waited for the perfect moment when Mr. Castellanos had his back turned to the class, engrossed in solving a complex equation on the board. Quickly, Derek slipped the tourniquets onto his upper arms, just below the biceps, and tightened them as much as he could stand without cutting off circulation. The effect was immediate and dramatic—his forearms bulged and swelled, the veins becoming hyper pronounced and snaking like rivers across his taut skin. As the teacher turned to address the class again, Derek leaned back in his chair, casually placing his arms on the desk. The fabric of his polo tightened around his biceps, which now looked like they could burst from his sleeves. He began flexing again, the cords of his forearms standing out like ropes against the stark white of his shirt. He watched Mr. Castellanos's reflection in the window, the teacher's eyes growing wider as he took in the magnificent sight before him. The classroom's temperature seemed to rise drastically. Mr. Castellanos's voice faltered slightly as he called on a student for the answer. Derek knew he had his full attention now. He flexed his fingers, making the muscles in his forearms spasm and bulge in a mesmerizing display of power. The teacher's gaze was drawn to the spectacle, his eyes tracing the lines and contours of Derek's arms with a hunger that was becoming increasingly difficult to hide. Derek felt a thrill of power surge through him, knowing that he had the upper hand in this silent game of seduction. As the class progressed, Derek changed his flexes, sometimes going for dramatic poses that caused his shirt to ride up and reveal a breathtaking strip of toned abs. The sound of his muscles shifting and contracting was like a wet dream to Mr. Castellanos, who found his eyes straying more and more often to the student's arms. Each flex brought a new wave of elektricity to the room, a delicious promise of what could happen next. Derek's heart pounded in his chest, his body responding to the thrill of the chase as much as the teacher's growing attraction. And all this time, none of the other students notices a thing. The final bell of the day couldn't come soon enough for Derek. He had pushed the limits of his teacher's self-control, and he knew that the next move had to be decisive. So, the next day, Derek went way further in his seduction. He wore a tank top to school, the fabric clinging to every inch of his chiseled torso. The classroom was hot, the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on them, and it wasn't just from the weather outside. He made sure to sit at the desk closest to Mr. Castellanos's, his muscles gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. Every time the teacher walked by, Derek would subtly flex his arms or pecs, the fabric stretching to its limits over his bulging body. Mr. Castellanos tried to keep calm, but the way his eyes kept drifting to Derek's arms betrayed his struggle. The young bodybuilder seamed to have no care in the world, casually placing his bare feet on the chair next to him, flexing his calves. The fabric of his shorts strained against his huge legs, the outline of his quads and hamstrings on full display. The teacher's gaze lingered longer than it should have, his breathing growing more shallow as he took in the view. Mr. Castellanos's hand hovered over the whiteboard marker, his knuckles white from the effort of not reaching out to touch Derek's stomach. His voice was a hoarse whisper as he tried to keep the lesson going, but his eyes kept drifting back to the student's body. Derek felt a surge of power as he watched the man's resistance fade, drop by drop. He knew that the next move would be the one that broke the dam, and he was more than ready to be the flood that washed away his teacher's resistance. The other pupils remained blissfully unaware of the silent seduction playing out at the front of the room. Engrossed in their own schoolwork or daydreams, they were oblivious to the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Derek's flexing had become a silent orchestra, each bulge and twitch of muscle speaking volumes to the man who knew what it meant. Mr. Castellanos's eyes flickered between the equations on the board and Derek's torso, his heart racing in his chest and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Derek leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk. He flexed his abs once more, the muscles popping out in a beautiful show that made Mr. Castellanos's hand shake. The room grew quieter, the only sound the faint rustle of paper and the occasional cough. The teacher's eyes followed the lines of Derek's body, tracing the path of sweat down his chest, the fabric of his tank top clinging to his ultra thin skin. The moment was electric, the air charged with power. Derek knew he had the teacher right where he wanted him. He slowly reached for his water bottle, his biceps bulging as he lifted it to his mouth. The motion was deliberate, a show of strength and control. He took a sip, the muscles in his throat moving with the same seductive grace as the rest of his body. As he set the bottle back down, his hand brushed slightly against Mr. Castellanos's arm, enough to make the teacher's heart skip a beat or two. The other students continued their work, oblivious to what was happening before there very eyes. Derek leaned back in his chair, his abs tightening as he whispered, "You know, Mr. Castellanos, I've been working out a lot. I bet you didn't know I had this kind of power, huh?" Mr. Castellanos couldn't help but stare at the young man's sculpted chest, the fabric of the tank top stretched taut over his pectorals. He swallowed hard, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't betray his growing arousal. "It's...it's very impressive, Derek," he managed, his voice hoarse. "Thanks, I think so too," Derek said, his eyes beaming with mischief. He leaned closer, his abs flexing with every word. "But you know what's even more impressive?" He paused for a beat, letting the tension build. "How much I want to show you everything I can do." His words were a whisper, a promise that hung in the air between them. Mr. Castellanos's eyes flicked to Derek's crotch, where the outline of an erection was beginning to form. He felt his own cock twitch in response, and he knew he was losing the battle. The teacher took a step back, trying to compose himself. "Class is almost over, Derek," he whispered, his voice weaker than he would have liked. "We should focus on the lesson." But Derek was relentless. He leaned back, his legs spreading slightly, and began to rub his now-hard cock over the rock-hard landscape of his pumped forearms. The friction was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure through his body. His eyes never left Mr. Castellanos's, holding his gaze with the same intensity he used when lifting weights. Derek's cock grew even harder as he felt the power he had over the teacher. Each stroke was deliberate, each flex calculated to drive the man before him wild with lust. The classroom was filled with desire, the walls closing in as the heat of their passion grew more intense. Mr. Castellanos's eyes were glued to Derek's arms, the muscles bulging as he pleasured himself. The sight was like nothing he had ever seen before—so raw, so unashamed and erotic. His own cock strained against his pants, begging for relief. He knew he should say something, do something, but all he could manage was a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Derek's strokes grew faster, his breathing heavier. The sight of Mr. Castellanos's hand on his desk, so close to his own aching arousal, was too much to bear. He stood, his chair scraping against the floor. The classroom was still, every student engrossed in their work, oblivious to the scene unfolding before them. Derek approached the teacher's desk, his abs tight and his cock standing at full attention. "Do you want to see more?" he asked. Mr. Castellanos looked up, his eyes glazed with lust. He nodded, unable to find the words to express his desperation. Derek stepped closer, his cock mere inches from the teacher's hand. He leaned over the desk, his muscles rippling as he did so. His heart raced, the anticipation of the moment driving him to the brink of insanity. He knew that once this line was crossed, there would be no way back. The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and the students began to pack up their things. As the last student exited the classroom, Mr. Castellanos slammed the door shut and turned the lock with shaking hands. The sound echoed through the now-deserted hallway, a declaration of their intentions. The teacher took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Derek stepped closer, the heat from his body washing over Mr. Castellanos like a wave. He leaned in, his flexed arm brushing against the teacher's chest. "I've got something to show you," he murmured, his voice sweet as ice cream on a hot summer's day. Mr. Castellanos nodded, his heart pounding in his ears. He knew what was coming, and he was powerless to resist. With a flick of his wrist, Derek removed the tourniquets, his forearms exploding with newfound blood flow. The muscles bulged, the veins standing out like a map of desire. Mr. Castellanos reached out, his hand hovering over the bulging bicep. Derek leaned into the touch, his cock pulsing in response. The teacher's hand was warm, oft, but Derek could feel the need in it. He took the teacher's wrist, guiding his hand up and down the length of his flexed forearm. Mr. Castellanos's eyes widened as he felt the power beneath his fingertips. He had never been with a man before, but in that moment, he knew that he needed Derek like he needed air to breathe. He looked up into the young bodybuilder's eyes, seeing the hunger reflected in them. Derek stepped closer, his cock now pressing against Mr. Castellanos's thigh. The teacher's hand moved of its own accord, reaching for the bulge in Derek's shorts. He traced the outline, feeling the heat and the strength. The teacher used his tongue to travel over the landscape that was Derek's body. Mr. Castellanos was insatiable. Derek's muscles tensed, his toes curling in his sneakers. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, the pressure building in his balls like a dam about to burst. He moaned, his hips jerking, and the teacher took the hint, increasing his pace. With a final flex of his arms, Derek pushed Mr. Castellanos away, his cock standing proud and glistening. "Not yet," he panted, his eyes dark with desire. "There's so much more I want to show you." He grabbed the teacher's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Follow me," he said, leading him towards the supply closet. The supply closet was small, cramped, but the confined space only added to the intensity of their situation. Derek turned to face Mr. Castellanos, his body a canvas of perfection that the teacher couldn't help but devour with his eyes. The young man reached for a bottle of oil that he had purposely stashed away earlier, the liquid glistening under the fluorescent lights. "Ready to see the full show?" he asked with a wicked grin. Mr. Castellanos nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. Derek began to unbutton his polo, his muscles flexing and glistening with the anticipation of what was to come. He pulled the shirt off, revealing his broad, hairless chest, each muscle shredded and wanting to be touched. The teacher couldn't resist; he stepped closer, his hand shaking as he reached out to trace the lines of Derek's abs. The contact was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through both of them. Derek took the oil in his hand, pouring a generous amount into Mr. Castellanos's palm. "Go ahead," he urged, his voice low and seductive. The teacher's hand hovered for a moment before making contact with Derek's skin. He began to rub the oil into the bodybuilder's chest, his touch soft at first, but growing more confident as Derek moaned in pleasure. The oil was rubbed over Derek's flesh, making his muscles glisten like wet granite. The student turned to face the mirror that lined one side of the closet, his back to Mr. Castellanos. He began to flex, his back muscles rippling and contorting into a detailed tapestry of power. The teacher moved his hands over Derek's body, exploring every inch of the taut, oiled skin. The mirror reflected their images, making it seem as if there were two of them, each more powerfull than the last. Derek's breath grew heavier, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as the teacher's hands glided over his shoulders, down his back, and around to his chest again. Mr. Castellanos took a step closer, his breath hot against Derek's neck as he whispered, "You're so beautiful." Derek's cock twitched in response, his body alive with sensation. The teacher's hands moved lower, caressing the rock-fuckin-hard globes of his ass, his fingers slipping between the shredded cheeks to tease at the tight ring of muscle beneath. Where-ever the teacher's hands went, they felt only the hardest flexed must under the thinnest skin possible. In the mirror, their reflection was a 'tableau vivant' of lust—Derek's powerful body flexing and glistening, Mr. Castellanos's desperate need carved into his face. The young man's hand worked faster, the oil making the skin slide smoothly beneath his palm. The teacher's hips jerked, his cock pulsing with every stroke. Derek leaned back, his head resting on Mr. Castellanos's shoulder, his own breaths coming in ragged pants. "You like that, don't you? Being my dirty little slut in the classroom, showing off for me?" Derek nodded, his strokes becoming more erratic as the pleasure built. "Look at yourself," Mr. Castellanos growled, his hips snapping forward. "You're made for this, for me to fuck you whenever I want." Derek's eyes flew open, meeting his teacher's in the mirror. He had never felt so desired, so wanted. The teacher's eyes never left Derek's in the mirror as he drove deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small space. "Cum for me," he ordered, his voice a guttural rasp. "Cum for me, you filthy little muscle whore." Derek threw his head back, his body tightening as he released, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and coating his hand. Then, the spell was broken by the sound of the doorknob turning. The two men froze, their eyes wide with terror. Someone was coming, and they weren't finished. The next few moments would be a race against time, a frantic scramble to regain their composure before they were caught. The thrill of almost being discovered only added to the heady mix of emotions, leaving them both breathless and desperate. The door swung open, and the janitor's mop stopped mid-stroke as he took in the scene before him—Derek's pants around his ankles, both men's faces flushed with pleasure and panic. The janitor's eyes widened, his mouth forming an 'O' of shock before he hastily retreated, shutting the door with a quiet click. The two of them remained frozen, hearts hammering in their chests, as they listened to the retreating footsteps. When they were certain they were alone again, Derek looked over his shoulder at Mr. Castellanos with a mix of amusement and concern. "Well, that was... unexpected," he said, trying to lighten the mood. The teacher's eyes were wide with horror. "Don't worry," he assured him, his voice low and comforting. "We're not done yet." With renewed determination, Derek pushed himself off the teacher's desk, his muscles quivering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He turned to face Mr. Castellanos, a seductive smile playing on his lips. "I want you to hit my abs," he said, his voice a sultry whisper. The teacher's eyes narrowed with confusion before realization dawned, and he couldn't help the smoldering look that took over his features. He took a step closer, his hand raising to meet Derek's request. The sound of his hand meeting Derek's abs was music to their ears—a sharp smack followed by the low, resonant thud of flesh meeting flesh. Derek's abs rippled with each hit, the impact sending waves of pleasure through his body. He leaned into it, his eyes closed and a soft moan escaping his lips. Mr. Castellanos couldn't help but be drawn in, his own desire rekindling as he watched the young bodybuilder's reactions. His strokes grew harder, his hand smacking down with the force of his own pent-up lust. Derek leaned back, placing his hands on the desk to brace himself as Mr. Castellanos hit him with more force. The smack of skin echoed through the room, each hit leaving a red handprint that stood out against the tanned perfection of Derek's stomach. The young man's hips rolled with the rhythm, his muscular butt grinding against the teacher's still-hard cock. Mr. Castellanos groaned, his hand moving to grip Derek's hip to steady himself as he continued to strike the flexed abs with an increasingly erratic pattern. The scent of sweat and sex filled the small space, mixing with the faint aroma of the leather chair. Derek's body was a masterpiece of youthful vigor, his muscles flexing and releasing in time with Mr. Castellanos's hand. The teacher's breath grew ragged, his strokes growing more erratic as the pleasure built in his own body. He couldn't resist the allure of Derek's powerhouse physique, the way his forearms bulged and his abs rippled with every smack. Suddenly, Derek spun around, his body a whirlwind of motion. He straddled Mr. Castellanos, his rock-hard ass pressing down onto the teacher's still-covered erection. "You like that, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a mix of playfulness and challenge. Without waiting for a response, he placed his hands on Mr. Castellanos's shoulders and pushed himself up, his abs hovering just above the teacher's face. The room was silent except for their heavy breathing and the sound of Derek's muscles flexing. With a wicked grin, Derek began to lower his abs, the paper-thin skin stretching taut as he brought the defined ridges closer and closer to Mr. Castellanos's mouth. The teacher's eyes widened, and he licked his lips involuntarily, the anticipation driving him wild. The moment the first ripple of muscle made contact with his skin, Mr. Castellanos's eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a moan that was muffled by the stone muscles pressing down on him. Derek began to grind his abs against Mr. Castellanos's face, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of them. The teacher's nose was buried in the young man's pelvis, the scent of musk and sweat overwhelming him. He inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of desire that surrounded them. The pressure of Derek's abs was intense, the muscles flexing and releasing in a slow, deliberate dance that had Mr. Castellanos's eyes watering and his cock straining against his pants. The bodybuilder's movements grew more erratic, his grunts of pleasure becoming more frequent. The sight of Mr. Castellanos, his face buried in Derek's crotch, was almost too much to bear. "I'm going to cum," Derek panted, his abs contracting even more forcefully. "All over your face, Mr. Castellanos." The teacher's eyes snapped open, and he looked up at Derek, his own need reflected in the young man's gaze. Derek's abs continued to flex and grind against his face, the pressure unbearable. Mr. Castellanos's breath was hot against Derek's skin, his cheeks red with exertion and desire. With a final, powerful flex, Derek's orgasm hit him hard. His cock, already leaking precum, spurted hot jets of cum across Mr. Castellanos's face, the sticky fluid coating his cheeks and nose. The teacher's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. The room was still, the only sound the harsh panting of their mingled breaths. Derek's abs remained pinned to Mr. Castellanos's face, the teacher's nose buried in the muscular crotch, the taste of cum lingering on his lips. Finally, Derek lifted himself off the teacher, his abs glistening with sweat and cum. Mr. Castellanos took a deep breath, his chest heaving. "Fuck," he murmured, the word a benediction and a curse all at once. "That was..." "A taste of what's to come?" He leaned down, his abs still flexed, and whispered in the teacher's ear, "But I'm not done with you yet." His hand slithered down to Mr. Castellanos's crotch, his fingers wrapping around the still-hard cock. "Not even close." Derek's eyes never left the teacher's as he brought his massive forearms together, the veins standing out like cords against the stark white of his skin. Mr. Castellanos watched, his breath hitching, as Derek positioned his arms in a V-shape. The young man's biceps flexed as he brought the teacher's cock into the center of the V, the tip nestling between the two bulging veins. Derek's fingers began to dance, making his forearms rippling as he started to move his hands in opposite directions, creating a sensation that was unlike anything the teacher had ever felt before. It was as if his cock was being massaged by the most powerful, yet delicate, set of hands imaginable. The feeling was exquisite, and Mr. Castellanos's moans grew louder, his hips thrusting into the air as Derek's forearms worked their magic. The sound of the skin sliding against the muscle was like a symphony, each note hitting just the right spot. Derek's grip was firm, his fingers moving in a mesmerizing pattern that had the teacher's eyes rolling back in his head. He could feel the orgasm building, the tension coiling in his balls like a tight spring. Derek's forearms moved faster, the muscles bulging and pulsing with each stroke. The classroom was their playground, and the rules were simple—desire reigned supreme. Mr. Castellanos's cock was trapped between the two pillars of power, the young man's strength and endurance a testament to his dedication in the gym. The teacher's body was an expression of need, his muscles tensing and releasing as Derek's forearms continued their relentless assault. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, and yet he couldn't get enough. He begged for more, his voice a desperate whisper that seemed to turn young alfa on. The young bodybuilder smirked, his teeth glinting in the light. He knew exactly what the teacher needed, and he was more than willing to give it to him. He tightened his grip, his forearms flexing even more, the veins standing out like rivers of fire. The teacher's cock was trapped between the two muscular arms. Escaping as impossible. Mr. Castellanos could feel his climax approaching, a wave of pleasure that threatened to drown him. He bucked his hips, trying to fuck Derek's forearms, the desperation in his movements only adding to the eroticism of the scene. The young man's fingers tightened, the muscles in his arms working in perfect harmony to milk every ounce of pleasure from the teacher's body. And then, with a final, powerful flex, Mr. Castellanos was over the edge, his cock pulsing and spurting cum across the desk. Derek's arms didn't stop moving, milking the last drops of pleasure from the teacher's body as he watched the man come undone before him. The classroom was silent except for the sound of their ragged breathing. The world had narrowed to this one moment, this one perfect connection between teacher and student, predator and prey, desire and satisfaction. Derek slowly released Mr. Castellanos's cock, his forearms still quivering with the aftermath of the intense climax they had just given. The teacher looked up at him, his eyes a mix of pleasure and fear at what he had just allowed. "What have we done?" he whispered, his voice trembling. Derek's smirk grew wider, his eyes beaming with cockiness. "We've just begun, Mr. Castellanos," he said, his voice a sweet promise of more to come. "This is just the warm-up."

Hey everyone, this storyfied roleplay is quite a slow burn and turned out to be just an experiment on how to tease. Enjoy! --------------- Credits to the following (discord) role-player’s I met to create this: CookiesAreCool, MwS Copyright disclaimer: I don't own any picture. I link every source if possible. Please contact me or a moderator in case of demanded removal.

“Prince, your package came in!” Etna announced, bringing a cardboard box into the castle. “Hmhm, good, I’ve been waiting for this for this.” Laharl chuckled as he got out of his throne, “Flonne, get down here.” “Of course, prince Laharl!” Flonne said happily as she dashed to the other two demons, “what came in?” “That one muscle growth bar that’s been going viral in the netherworld, I want to see if it’s real,” Laharl smirked and crossed his arms. “Ooh, are we gonna get some too?” Etna asked, a sly smile on her face. “Of course not. This is for an overlord like me, not an overlord’s vassals.” Laharl raised an eyebrow. “Wow, thanks a lot, prince! That bar is probably a scam anyway. The guy who made it is just trying to make money off of people's curiosity. But you're different, right, prince?! You won't fall victim to such a thing, will you?!" Etna teased, laughing as she looked at Laharl. "Ah.. who made this bar anyway?” Flonne asked. “If I’m not mistaken, then Mao,” Laharl answered, crossing his arms again. “Yup, sounds like something that guy would make. After all, he’s one of those mad scientist experiment-loving people… as well as a massive pervert, he’s probably getting off to the fact that people are buying this bar and allegedly getting buff from it.” Etna said with a laugh. “Hey now, don’t judge me for getting it! I think that bar is worth looking into. It has a pretty high price tag, after all. So if it does work, then there might be some value to it. And if it doesn't, well, it still looks tasty." Laharl shrugged. “Well, since you’re so into this bar, then why don’t you eat it? It looks just like that ABC chocolate bar we eat to get recover our HP and SP in battle.” Etna suggested while looking down at Laharl. “I’d eat it! Hmph, I can't wait until my body becomes a block of pure muscle!” Laharl bellowed, clenching his fists. “Now, let me dig in!!” “You sure you wanna do this, prince? There’s no turning back once you start eating it, you know.” Etna warned him. “I don't care, I'll eat it! This is fate!” Laharl yelled. The two demons watched Laharl as he grabbed the bar. He then took a bite out of it. Laharl chewed on the bar for a moment but soon swallowed it whole. ‘Hmm~ I feel nothing...’ Laharl thought to himself, swallowing the rest of the bar. “Hm, what did you think of it, prince?” Etna asked, “it’s probably fake, but did it at least taste good?” “It was pretty delicious. I feel full already!” Laharl grinned, “although, I feel a little hot now…” “I think you’re more than a little hot, prince Laharl… you’re sweating a lot…” Flonne pointed out. “What?!” Laharl gasped, his cheeks flushed. “What?! The prince never sweats when he eats any kind of food...” Etna gulped, worriedly, “is this a side effect of the candy bar…?” Suddenly, the boy began to grow both height and muscle, just like the candy bar promised. He smirked as he flexed his muscles. “How do I look now...?” Laharl asked as sweat dripped down his forehead. “Heh, you've become kinda buff, prince! Although.. you’re still growing~” Etna giggled, watching Laharl. Laharl suddenly felt a wave of pleasure coming from every part of his body, and he groaned loudly. “Huh? What is this feeling? I feel like I'm being filled by something...” Laharl wondered aloud, as the pleasure started to intensify. Soon enough, Laharl lost track of time. He could only focus on the pleasurable sensation filling him and the muscle growth he was going through. At this point, he had grown taller than both Etna and Flonne. Just a few minutes ago, he was 4’something, but now he was getting big and tall.. so good… His chest puffed out and pecs appeared with a nice bounce, abs forming in rows as well. Sweat beads dripped down his two meaty orbs, and his abs glistened with sweat. His legs got bigger and wider, and his pants would most likely rip soon, and his belt would probably snap off soon as well. He still wasn't done, though. His arms were getting longer, and thicker, and he grew more muscle on them too. Soon, his biceps became even bigger, along with his triceps and forearms. His shoulders expanded, becoming broader and larger, his deltoids and traps appearing as well. His neck grew thick and bulged out as well, an adam's apple forming in the middle of his throat. Seemingly, with a thrust, his belt snapped and his red shorts ripped, revealing his boxers, making him blush heavily in a mixture of feelings. “Jeez, prince, you’re growing quite large, aren’t ya? Lemme start recording, I’m gonna have to send this to Mao so he can see how well his muscle growth bar is working on the almighty overlord~” Etna chuckled to herself, snapping her fingers and taking out her phone to record Laharl. Flonne and Etna watched Laharl with glee, their eyes sparkling with excitement. As Laharl continued to grow in size, he noticed that the pleasure he felt was getting stronger and stronger. The pleasure was starting to overwhelm him, and all he wanted to do was to push himself harder to grow even more. The pleasure started to increase exponentially, and he found himself panting and groaning as the sounds of muscle growth filled the large room. “Heh, I'm so glad I ate one of these bars! If I didn't, I wouldn't be as big as this! It's amazing~!” Laharl cheered, as he flexed his muscles, causing the two girls to blush a little bit. “Wow, prince, you're growing up before our very eyes! You should send those photos to Mao~” Etna said happily, as she stared at the muscular boy. “Yeah, I will! Now, what are his social media?” Laharl asked as he sat back down on his throne, his eyes glazed over at the two girls with pleasure, making them blush heavily. “You can find him on Twitter” Etna replied, while Flonne looked around for a computer or something. “Of course, I'll just need to take some measurements first..” Laharl muttered, as he stood up and took out his measuring tape and scale, he then stepped onto the scale, stepping on it once and then stepping off. “Hmhm, my weight has increased. This is probably due to the muscle gain. Also, my height has increased, and I'm about 8’0. My measurements are... ah, pretty big,” he smirked and crossed his arms, making his juicy pecs lift along with him, “but measurements like those don’t matter to me, what matters to me is how strong I am physically, Etna, Flonne, get some prinnies.” The two girls nodded and left the room, returning a minute later with a bunch of prinnies, who were all nervous and sweating profusely out of fear of what the great overlord what doing to them. “Now, let's test using these babies~” Laharl grinned to himself, and he walked towards the two girls, grabbing the prinnies which shook next to them. “L-Lord Laharl, we'll do anything for you, dood! please don't hurt us! We're scared!” One of the prinnies squeaked in fright. “Don't worry, I won't hurt you... actually, this will probably hurt, but I don’t really care.” Laharl chuckled darkly, as he grabbed the first prinny, and lifted it, its little penguin body trembling and shaking. “W-What are you doing?! Let me go, dood! Ah, no! Please, don't! No, ahhh~!” The little prinny cried in comedic fear, as Laharl threw the blue thing across the big room, making the prinny explode mid-air. “Ooooh, that looks fun, let's throw another one!” Laharl grinned, as he went to the closet and pulled out some more prinnies, throwing them into the air with complete ease. The mighty overlord smirked deviously and squeezed one of the prinnies in between his sweaty pecs, the prinny blushed in either a flustered mess, embarrassment, or joy.. either way, the prinny was very lucky! “Ahh~! Uwaaah! W-What are you doing to me, dood?! Ahhh~!” The little blue thing cried out, as Laharl squeezed the prinny in his sweaty chest. Etna and Flonne, watching from afar, couldn't help but feel a bit of an undefinable feeling by what they were witnessing. “I wish I had a Prinny of my own~” Etna mumbled to herself, as she pouted cutely, “my prinny squad somehow escaped from me, so I need a new one! “A Prinny would be nice... I could hug him and squeeze him and cuddle him all day. He'd make me happy, and I bet he'd love me too~” Flonne said happily. After throwing a few more, Laharl stopped and turned back toward the two girls. “Alright, that's enough of this, now, let's see if I've grown any stronger, shall we? To the item world, we go!” Laharl declared. “Uh huh, but, uh.. prince… the prinny is still face first in your pecs.” Etna pointed to the prinny, who was still facing forward in the sweaty chest of the male giant. “Oh yeah, right. I guess I kinda forgot about that.. is it enjoying it or something?” Laharl wondered aloud, as he reached down and picked up the prinny. “U-Um, this is going to sound weird, but um... I think it's enjoying it. It's moving around a lot. So I'm pretty sure it's happy.” Flonne stuttered nervously. “Oooh, oh wow, I never knew Prinny's could move like that. It must enjoy it, huh? Well, I guess that's good, maybe Prinny's are a little like us demons, eh? I wonder what else Prinny's can do. Hmm~” Laharl pondered, as he placed the Prinny on the ground, and it quickly moved away from him, and ran out of the room. “Huh? What's wrong with that Prinny? Did I hurt it or something? Ahahahahah!” Laharl cackled and went after the fleeing Prinny. “Ummm, priiince, we need to go to the item world, remember?” Etna said, annoyed as she put a hand on her hip, growing impatient with her master. “Yeah yeah, let’s go.” Laharl said as he put a much larger pair of his shorts on and buckled a new belt before he signed for his two vassals to follow behind him to the item world’s transportation portal. “Welcome to the-, ah, Laharl, is that you? Wow... You’ve seemed to grow a lot since the last time we met!” the gatekeeper of the item world said, drooling slightly as she blushed and began to fangirl, “Let me guess, you wanna go to the item world, correct?” “Yes. Now take me there or else I’ll use you to prove how strong I am instead.” Laharl threatened, crossing his arms once again, his pecs doing the same thing as they did before. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind it if you did that- I mean... Of course! I feel that it’s safe to assume that you wanna see just how strong you are now, yeah? So I’d suggest that you go into the highest level item, y’know, just to see how strong you are now~” The item world gatekeeper suggested, the three demons in front of her thinking for a quick moment before Laharl nodded. “Sounds good to me, take me there, now,” Laharl ordered, the gatekeeper nodded eagerly as she took them there quickly. “Wow, it is beautiful here!” Etna said, as the trio arrived at the item world's highest level item, where they entered through its door… it wasn’t like an average item world, since most were dull and there wasn’t any pretty scenery. “Laharl, look, there's a prinny over there, and it looks happy!” Flonne exclaimed excitedly. “Why should I care? It’s an enemy regardless of how it’s feeling. I need to see how strong I am, so let me at it!” Laharl said, as he walked over to the prinny, shaking the place with small cracks forming under his massive feet which were SOMEHOW remained kept in his tight shoes. The enemy noticed this and attempted to flee, only to find itself unable to move when it saw the towering overlord’s huge foot coming up to crush it. “Haha, well, let's see how strong YOU are, stupid prinny!” Laharl grinned evilly as he stomped down hard on the blue prinny, who was squished between Laharl's feet. “Doooood!” The prinny yelled comically before turning into nothing. This also caused his shoes to rip and break far beyond repair, the sounds of clothes… or shoes ripping echoing throughout the floor, and he was now barefoot. “Flonne, is it just me, or is the prince getting even more violent than before?” Etna asked in a hushed tone as the both of them watched Laharl play with his enemies like they were mere toys designed specifically for him. “Mm, yeah, it does seem like it. He's always been a bit rough, but it seems like he's taken it to a whole new level. Probably thanks to his newfound muscle.” Flonne responded as both her and Etna continued to watch Laharl treat his enemies as toys. The boy did things like squeeze them between his pecs, and other muscles, and do other humiliating things to them such as wedgies and spanks. After a few more floors of pretty much the same thing, the three had reached the first innocent floor, and were met with a rather pleasant surprise… Mao was there! “Oh my, it's Mao! Why are ya here?” Etna asked. “Ah, hello, everyone. I came here as a break from the evil academy. Such a good dean like me needs a break every once in a while, doesn’t he?” Mao responded, “anyway, Laharl, I’m glad to see that my muscle growth candy bar really worked well on you. Are you… *huffs and glasses fog up* happy with all your new muscles? *puff, slurps drool thats dribbling from chin like a pervert*” “Hmhm, Mao, or mr. Game Stealer, you don't have to make it sound so dirty. I'm enjoying myself though, trust me,” Laharl smiled proudly and crossed his arms, making his meaty pecs even more visible than before, making Mao blush heavily. “Oooh, you're more than happy, huh? Well, no worries, I'll give you more candy bars later~” Mao giggled. “Hmhmhmmm, I can't wait. Though, I do have a question…” Laharl said before shoving Mao face-first into his still sweaty pecs, “why did I get so sweaty when I ate the bar?” “Mmmmf..” whatever Mao was saying was muffled. “Ugh, I need to get you out of my chest. Not only are you sniffing heavily, but I also feel something wet moving up and down my pecs, as well as something poking against me as well.” Laharl sighed as he put Mao down. “Well, the sweat and musk is just a side effect of the bar. I added it for… umm… personal reasons…!” Mao explained. “Yuck, don’t tell me this is what I think it is…” Etna said, “why must you be such a massive pervert, Mao? Prince, teach him a lesson.” Laharl nodded and gave Mao a single spank on his butt. “Uwaaah~! Ah.. hah… fuck…~!” Mao panted before Laharl gave him a wedgie, causing his underwear to pull up high in his butt crack. “You're lucky I didn't take it any further, or else you would have lost the ability to walk for a week.” Laharl chuckled as he pulled Mao's underwear back down and tucked it in. “W-What did you say about me losing the ability to walk?!” Mao asked perversely. “I said if you kept talking like that, you would lose the ability to move for a week. You should learn to not be such a perv when I'm around.” Laharl replied with a smirk. “Hmph... fine, I won't talk anymore. But, that doesn't mean I won't enjoy myself...” Mao smirked as he turned back towards Laharl, and began to lick his lips suggestively. Etna let out an annoyed sigh, but Flonne seemed very amused by the two boy’s actions. “Alright then, prince, you wanna leave the item world now?” Etna asked. “Yeah, I'm ready to go.” Laharl replied. “Ah… can I tag along for a bit? You know, just for a place to stay while I’m taking a break from the Evil Academy?” Mao asked. “Fine, do whatever you want.” Laharl sighed and rolled his eyes. Mao temporarily joined your party! And you and your party left the Item World! // Hiya! I’m back with more Disgaea stuff this is from a few weeks ago, so I don’t know why I never posted it onto here, probably just because I forgot. There’s and extended lewd ending which I may add if I feel like it though so look out for that anyway, this is still one of my first times writing detailed muscle growth, and it seems like I’ve focused a little more on sweat… please enjoy!!