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The fist that connected heavily with his face would no doubt leave an ugly bruise in its wake. Not that it mattered though, his body was littered with similar mars already so who would notice one more?
Mishima clutched his stinging cheek. He could taste blood from somewhere in his mouth and swallowed it back bitterly. Unable to look at his assailant, Mishima focussed his gaze on the stained threadbare carpet of the PE office and fought back against the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed over and over. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be apologising for but that was unimportant when faced with the intimidating volleyball coach.
Kamoshida slammed his fist on the desk and Mishima flinched violently. His body visibly trembled but he kept his head down. “You're fucking useless, Mishima!” He roared and Mishima squeaked another desperate apology. The coach pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, leaning back in his desk chair. Mishima could tell he was angry, much angrier than usual. Something must have set him off but there was no point wondering about that now, anything could light Kamoshida’s short fuse and it was usually Mishima who took the brunt of his rage. He was an easy target after all. Always had been and always will be.
Mishima stood awkwardly wringing his hands, unsure what to do in the elapsing silence. He chanced a glance up to his teacher’s face and wished he hadn’t. A sudden smile had wrapped itself around Kamoshida’s gaunt face. It was a disgusting, twisted smile, the kind Mishima recalls seeing him wear whilst talking to the girl's volleyball team. That smile meant nothing good and Mishima’s eyes darted desperately towards the door. It was too far away and he was nowhere near quick enough to outrun the former Olympic medal winner.
“I’ve just thought of a way you could be useful, kid,” Kamoshida stated with a mocking kindness. Mishima nodded and dropped his gaze back to the floor at his teacher’s feet. “Get on your knees,” Kamoshida ordered.
“Huh?” Mishima’s eyes shot up suddenly, not sure he had heard him right.
“Get on your knees, Mishima,” Kamoshida repeated slowly, a serious scowl now settling onto his features. This time Mishima reacted how he wanted and knelt obediently in front of the sitting man. “Good.” He grabbed a handful of Mishima’s dark hair and pulled him between his open legs, forcing the boy’s head against his crotch. Mishima whimpered and the tears in his eyes finally broke free and rolled down his cheeks. “Look, you’re crying and we haven’t even started yet,” Kamoshida chuckled as though this was all perfectly normal. Maybe it was for him. He slipped his cock out of his track suit and pressed it against Mishima’s soft cheek, drawing out another pitiful sob from the first year student.
“Sir, please I–”
“I’m only half hard, Mishima.” Kamoshida interrupted, “you better do something about that.” When Mishima didn’t move Kamoshida rolled his eyes and leant down to his level. He tightened his grip on the student’s short hair, pulling painfully at the roots and causing Mishima to gasp. “Well? Get to work.” He ordered, his voice even but threatening. And Mishima was scared. So scared of what would happen if he said no.
Gingerly, Mishima reached out a shaky hand and took hold of Kamoshida’s throbbing cock. He stroked cautiously, fearful of making any mistakes that might end in another fist to his face. Or worse. Kamoshida’s cock was tall and thick with a prominent vein running from base to tip. Just touching it make Mishima want to scrub his hands red raw. He shuddered and fought off the queasy feeling that was settling in his tummy as he slipped his hand over the warm hard flesh. Kamoshida hummed a soft groan above him and Mishima dared to look up. His teacher was grinning down at him with a sadistic look in his eyes that made Mishima want to run. Run far away and leave Tokyo forever. He knew that wouldn’t help though, he would remember Kamoshida’s haunting smile forever.
“Use your mouth, too.”
Mishima felt his heart sink heavily in his chest. He tried to speak but the fear was stopping his tongue from working. He swallowed thickly and tried again. “S-Sir,”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Kamoshida was glaring down at him and Mishima felt the pressing pain on his scalp as Kamoshida tightened his grip for further emphasis.
Hesitantly, Mishima leant forward and pushed the flat of his tongue against the head of the straining member. He immediately took it back. The taste was vile, like nothing Mishima had ever tasted before or would ever want to taste again. “Mishima,” Kamoshida sighed in annoyance, “let me make this much more simpler for you. You’re going to suck my dick or I’m going to break your fucking arm and force you to do it anyway.”
Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and Mishima wished desperately for the floor to swallow him up and take him away from this. However, this was impossible and when Mishima opened his eyes he was still staring at his teacher’s hard cock. “I won’t ask again.” Kamoshida was speaking but Mishima could barely hear him over the pounding of his heart in his ears. He wet his lips nervously and bowed his head again, this time slipping his trembling lips over the tip. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit, and the musty unwashed smell of the older man wasn’t helping.
“Good, good,” Kamoshida breathed and clenched his hand in Mishima’s hair once again, getting a good grip on the short dark hair. “Keep going.” Mishima felt the weight of his teacher’s large hand pushing him and allowed himself to be forced further down the shaft. Just before his mouth reached the base he was tugged painfully back up by his hair and then pushed back down. This action was repeated until Kamoshida built up a harsh rhythm, using Mishima’s wet mouth as his personal fuck hole.
The larger man groaned above him, letting his head loll back at the pleasure of a warm hot mouth sliding over his dick. Who cares if it was Mishima’s mouth and not some hot chick, it’s about time the kid proved he was useful anyway. He let his eyes drift back down to his student; Mishima’s watering eyes were screwed shut, the red blush painting his cheeks was blending nicely with the black eye he had given him earlier and thick trails of drool were dribbling down his chin as his small mouth tried to accommodate the girth of his teacher’s cock. He looked an absolute wreck and Kamoshida couldn’t hide the satisfied smirk that settled on his mouth.
He sharply pulled Mishima up and off his cock and the young teen immediately began to splutter and gasp for air. New tears rolled down his already wet cheeks and Mishima hiccupped and trembled as he panted to get his breath back. “Now, now, what are you crying for now?” Kamoshida said in mock kindness. “You’ve been doing an excellent job here. You’re actually being useful for once in your pathetic little life.” This only made Mishima cry all the more. He knew he was a burden, everyone had told him so. Even in middle school, his classmates ignored him because he was so useless. But this isn’t what he wanted. He never wanted to be useful like this. Mishima whimpered and choked back an anguished sob. His whole face was stinging painfully from the rough treatment and he wished desperately for this to be the end.
Mishima jumped violently as Kamoshida stood and took purchase on the nape of his neck, forcing him to look up into his tormentor’s twisted eyes. “Don’t think this is over yet, kid.” Mishima’s dark eyes widened in fear and he tried to turn his head away but Kamoshida held onto him firmly and pried his mouth open. With one swift thrust, Kamoshida easily rammed his cock inside. Without pause, he held Mishima’s head in place and began thrusting in and out of the boy’s watering mouth at a leisurely pace. He was enjoying the way Mishima tensed and squirmed beneath him, grasping hold of his tracksuit for lack of anything else to hold onto.
“You’re just like a girl, you know.” Kamoshida huffed, looking gleefully down at his degraded student. “All you do is cry and expect someone to come and save you. Well, no one’s coming, kid and even if they did they wouldn’t stop me – they couldn’t stop me. Hey, look at me.” Mishima obediently did as he was told and peered up at Kamoshida, leering back at him. “That’s right, those big doe eyes, fuck you look like a whore. Except a whore gets paid,” Kamoshida sniggered coldly, “you’re more of a slut. Yeah, my personal cock slut. Sounds good, right?” To punctuate his sentence he thrust particularly hard and Mishima choked as his cock bumped the back of the boy’s sore throat. Kamoshida didn’t relent and continued his assault, driving his hips harder with no regard for the other boy as he neared his limit. He really was just a fuck hole.
Kamoshida thrust as deep as he could go, pressing Mishima’s nose into the mess of pubes at the base of his cock and spilling his thick cum into the teen’s mouth and down his abused throat. When he had completely finished inside his student’s mouth he pulled Mishima off his cock with a wet smack and let the boy drop to the floor heaving. Mishima spluttered and hacked, he felt like he was going to vomit. The taste of Kamoshida’s cum was still on his tongue and bile was quickly filling his mouth. He heaved and threw up on the already stained PE office floor at Kamoshida’s feet – white cum mixed with bile and the remnants of his lunch from earlier.
“Holy shit, you’re disgusting!” Kamoshida cackled. He threw a box of tissues on the floor next to where Mishima was hunched over himself. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Clean up and get out.” As an afterthought, he stepped the tough heel of his trainer onto Mishima’s hand. “And how did you get that bruise?”
“I-In practice, sir.” Mishima squeaked on cue.
“That’s right.”
The door to the PE office slid closed behind him and Mishima was left alone. He stared at the vile mess in front of him and wept. No one could help him.