SMASH or PASS

Unlike my worry... I didn’t get expelled somehow.

The following week, the "counseling sessions" became regular. The professor and the dean were on my schedule. The student representative messaged between classes. The two remaining committee members approached me separately too.

I think that 50% raise was just the pushing force that made women’s restrain snap somehow, making such events possible.

Then what would happen if I managed to get it up to 100%? 200%?

The possibilities were endless...

I also continued my casual meetings with most students, although less frequently than usual as most of my usual customers stumers were starting to give me lower returns.

Then one day, a message arrived at my mail. Another summon from the ethics committee.

My heart sank a little.

’As I thought the consequences reached a little too far?’

I was fucking the dean and the other members of the committee but what if a big noble house said anything? Even they couldn’t protect me...

The summoning message was vague enough that I didn’t really understand the reason for the summon...

I couldn’t help but sigh and go there hoping for the best.

◇◇◇

The ethics committee room felt different this time. The air was thicker, warmer. Charged.

All five of them were there. Dean Valerius at the head of the long table, her expression unreadable behind her glasses. Professor Linara stood by the door, her arms crossed over her ample chest, a small, knowing smirk on her lips. Professor Valen and the other quiet professor, a stern-looking woman with gray-streaked hair named Aris, sat on one side. And the student representative, that perky blonde, was perched on the edge of the table, swinging her legs, a bright, hungry look in her eyes.

The door clicked shut behind me. Linara didn’t move from it. She leaned back, her hand casually flicking the deadbolt. *Click.* The sound was final.

My stomach dropped.

"Mr. Noel," the dean began, her voice cool and clinical. "A formal inquiry has been elevated. The House of Marquis Veilgard has taken an interest in your... activities. Their letter arrived this morning." She slid a single sheet of expensive parchment across the table. I didn’t need to read it. "They demand we ’keep a close eye’ on you. Their definition of ’close’ is likely more permanent than ours."

Shit.

Am I really getting expelled...?

Professor Aris spoke, her voice like grinding stones. "Our previous... arrangement... provided a degree of insulation. A marquis’s attention changes the calculus. The risk to this institution has increased substantially."

’Shit. Shit. Shit.’

Professor Valen adjusted her spectacles, not meeting my eye. "The protection price," she said softly, "has been raised."

"....?"

Huh?

I stared at them. "What does that mean?"

The student representative hopped off the table with a giggle. "It means, silly, that you owe us more." Her smile was all teeth. She sauntered over, her knee-high socks swishing.

’Owe them more—?!!’

Before I could react, she produced a pair of slim, silvery mana-cuffs from behind her back. With shocking speed and strength, she snapped one around my left wrist, yanked my arm behind the chair, and fastened the other to the solid wood frame. She did the same with my right.

"H-hey! What the fuck?" I struggled, but the cuffs hummed, sapping my strength. I was trapped, sitting in the chair at the foot of their table.

"Shhh," the blonde whispered, patting my cheek. "It’s just business." Her hands went to my shirt, popping the buttons open one by one. The other women watched, their expressions a mix of hunger and cool assessment.

What the fuck was going on?

Linara pushed off from the door and walked over, helping the rep strip my shirt off. Then their hands were at my belt, my pants, tugging them down my legs until I was naked from the waist down, exposed and helpless in the middle of the conference room.

The dean stood up slowly. She walked around the table, her heels clicking. She stopped in front of me, looking down at my restrained, half-hard cock. "A problem asset," she mused, reaching out to trace a cold fingernail along its length. It twitched, betraying me. "One that requires more frequent... valuation. More thorough... management."

Linara came up behind the dean, her hands sliding around the older woman’s waist, cupping her huge tits through the silk blouse. Linara nuzzled her neck. "He caused this trouble," Linara murmured, her eyes locked on me. "He should pay for the inconvenience."

The student representative dropped to her knees between my splayed legs. She didn’t use her mouth. Instead, she just watched, her breath hot on my skin, as the other two professors, Valen and Aris, approached. They looked nervous, flushed, but determined. They began to undress each other with stiff, formal movements, their eyes never leaving me.

Were they really going to--

All of them? Why?

Now that I thought about it, there had never been any real secrecy while I was fucking each of them separately.

Professor Linara herself admitted they knew the student representative was sucking me off while they were supposedly "discussing" my case.

I couldn’t help but feel a chill once I thought about it. How much of that committee hearing had been genuine deliberation, and how much of it had just been a game they were playing with me?

Hell, they probably sent the student representative themselves. Testing the water with the academy’s designated slut.

It all made sense now. All those old hags wanted a turn with the academy’s new whore, but none of them wanted to lose face by asking directly. So they played this game with me.

For all I knew, even the noble houses’ complaints might have been fabricated.

Well... except the Lysander one.

That fucking guy 100% wrote that shit.

The realization was ice water down my spine, cutting through the haze of forced arousal.

The committee room, the ’deliberations,’ the stern faces... it was all a fucking pantomime. A game for bored, powerful women with too much time and too little real satisfaction. I wasn’t a problem to be solved. I was a toy they’d all spotted and devised an elaborate, deniable way to play with. The student rep was their test balloon. Their perfectly corruptible little scout.

And I’d walked right into it. Hell, I’d sprinted.

The dean unzipped her trousers, stepping out of them. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her perfect, pale ass was right in front of my face. "You will service us," she stated, not a request, a sentence. "You will pay the higher price. And you will understand that your body, your pleasure, is now a commodity we control."

Linara, now naked as well, her massive breasts swaying, guided the dean down until she was kneeling on the floor, her back to me, that incredible ass hovering over my lap. "Open your mouth, commoner," Linara ordered, her hand fisting in my hair. "Your dean requires lubrication."

The dean lowered herself, not onto my cock, but backwards, until her wet, swollen pussy was poised over my mouth. At the same time, the student representative finally took me into her mouth with a wet, greedy slurp.

I was surrounded. Consumed. The dean settled her weight on my face, and I was drowning in her taste and scent again. Professor Aris, now naked, her body stern and lean, moved to the side, pressing one of her small breasts against my cheek, her nipple hard. "Mmphh... good..." she muttered, seemingly to herself.

Professor Valen, the last to fully undress, stood before me, trembling slightly. She guided my manacled hand up to her own soft, full breast. "S-squeeze," she whispered, her face bright red.

And Linara watched it all, her hand between her own legs, rubbing slow circles as she orchestrated the scene. "See?" she purred. "This is the cost of your appetite. You wanted a harem? You have one. Now... work."

The room dissolved into a chorus of gasps, moans, and the wet, slick sounds of my forced servitude. I was a toy. A resource. And as the student representative deep-throated me with a guttural choke and the dean ground her cunt against my tongue with a shuddering cry of "Nnnnghyeah!", I understood the new, brutal terms of my ’survival’.

The ’fake’ protection price had indeed been raised. And I was going to be paying it, in sweat, in spit, and in shame, for a long, long time.