The evening shadows deepened in Professor Meera's office at Rovery College, the air thick with the aftermath of their brutal encounter. Meera lay on the floor, her body a canvas of Abir's dominance—red handprints and bite marks marring her full breasts and rounded butt, her torn black blouse and pink saree scattered like battle relics. Her breaths were shallow, her eyes half-lidded, a faint smile curling her lips despite her exhaustion. Abir's heart pounded, not from exertion but from the silhouette he'd seen at the window—Professor Shila, her eyes wide with shock, staring through the glass.
As Shila's figure vanished from view, Abir's panic surged, his breath catching. "She saw us," he stammered, his voice tight, eyes darting to Meera. "She'll tell the principal. We're done for."
Meera, struggling to sit up, her body trembling, waved a dismissive hand, her voice hoarse but steady. "Calm down, Abir. I'll handle Shila." Her smile turned sly, a glint of confidence in her eyes. "Trust me, she won't talk."
Abir's mind raced, unconvinced, Shila's shocked expression burned into his memory. Even Meera's assurance couldn't quell the dread knotting his gut—another professor, another threat, piling onto the five girls' blackmail and Meera's own games. He helped Meera dress, her movements slow, her body marked and unsteady. They slipped out of the office, the college halls eerily quiet in the evening, Abir's nerves frayed as he imagined Shila lurking around every corner.
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The next day, Abir couldn't face the classroom, the weight of Shila's gaze and the harem's growing demands pressing on him. His encounters with Joita's rain-soaked surrender, Ananya's bold touch, Priya's desperate screams, and Meera's brutal submission swirled in his mind, leaving him restless. Seeking solitude, he wandered to the college's music room, a dimly lit haven of polished instruments and velvet curtains. The air carried the faint scent of wood polish, the grand piano gleaming under a single overhead light. He sank onto a bench, trying to steady his thoughts, but the memory of Shila's eyes haunted him.
The door creaked open, and Joita sauntered in, her presence a spark in the quiet room. Her crimson kurta hugged her voluptuous curves—her full breasts straining against the fabric, her hips swaying with every step, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Abir," she purred, closing the door behind her. "I know your little secret."
His heart skipped, Shila's face flashing in his mind. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low, wary.
Joita leaned against the piano, her fingers tracing its edge, her smile widening. "Ananya. At your house. You fucked her, didn't you? She couldn't stop blushing when we met yesterday. Spilled everything." Her tone was teasing, almost mocking, her eyes raking over him. "Didn't think you'd move so fast without me."
Abir's jaw tightened, the memory of Ananya's bold touch mingling with his lingering panic over Shila. His patience snapping. Her teasing laugh only fueled his anger, and he grabbed her, pulling her against him, his lips crashing onto hers in a searing, possessive kiss. Joita moaned, her hands fisting his kurta, but Abir's desire was a storm, driven by frustration and the need to reclaim control.
He pushed her against the piano, its keys clanging discordantly as her hips hit the edge. Remove her kurta, he exposed her full breasts, sucking one with brutal force, his teeth biting down hard, leaving red marks as she screamed, a mix of shock and ecstasy. His hand mauled her rounded butt, spanking it with sharp, stinging cracks, her cries echoing in the room. He yanked her pants down, her body trembling, and entered her in. He starts thrusting with deep, grinding slams, the piano rattling with each forceful surge. Her breasts bounced, marked with bites, her butt red from his slaps, her screams filling the room as she arched, her eyes rolling back. "Abir… yes!" she gasped, her voice breaking.
He shifted, bending her over the piano bench, her chest pressed flat, her arms pinned behind her back with his belt. His thrusts were rapid, piston-like, each one slamming her forward, her big butt jolting with every impact, his hand spanking it harder, leaving welts. Joita's screams turned hoarse, her initial eagerness giving way to overwhelmed gasps, "Abir… slow down…" But his anger drove him, his thrusts relentless, her body quaking with a climax despite her pleas, her eyes glassy with pleasure.
Abir pulled her to the floor, positioning her on all fours. He entered from behind, his hands gripping her hips, thrusting with savage depth, his fingers digging into her butt, spanking and squeezing as she screamed, her breasts swaying, marked with fresh bites from his earlier assault. Her body trembled, another climax ripping through her, her voice a desperate sob of ecstasy.
He lifted her, pressing her against a music stand, one leg hooked high over his shoulder, thrusting upward with brutal intensity. He sucked her breast again, biting the nipple hard, his other hand spanking her butt, the stand wobbling as her screams peaked, her eyes rolling back with another shuddering climax. The metal stand clattered, sheet music scattering like confetti.
Then he sat on the piano bench, pulling her onto his lap, her back to his chest, her wrists still bound. He thrust upward, bouncing her with crushing force, his hands mauling her breasts and butt, spanking and biting as her screams filled the room, her body convulsing with a final, shattering release. Abir roared, his climax crashing through him, their bodies locked in a sweaty, trembling embrace.
Joita collapsed against him, her body marked—red bite marks on her breasts, welts on her big butt. Her breaths were ragged, but her smile was wicked, satisfied. "You're too much," she murmured, her voice hoarse.
As they caught their breath, the door swung open, and the five female students stormed in, their eyes blazing with a mix of awe and excitement. The cropped-hair girl stepped forward, her voice sharp but admiring. "That was one hell of a performance, Abir, Joita," she said, her smirk wicked. The doe-eyed one clapped slowly, her gaze hungry. "You two never disappoint," she purred. The freckled girl nodded, her cheeks flushed. "Heard every scream from outside." The long-braided one licked her lips, adding, "Ananya wasn't lying about you, Abir." The sharp-eyed girl crossed her arms, her tone commanding. "We heard what you did with Ananya at your house, Abir. And we loved what we just saw. Now we have a new demand for you."
Abir's heart stopped, his mind reeling as the five girls closed in, their intentions a looming storm.