Post by Dr Henry McCoy on Aug 24, 2016 16:15:34 GMT
(I am not entering the competition and cannot win. Just wanted to leave my own sample to start things off so that nobody else would have to be the shy first one to post.)
F-List character: Dr Henry McCoy
Dr. McCoy had sequestered himself in his lab following class. Teaching at the Academy had been particularly challenging this year, as his class size had only continued to grow, and Hank found himself staring down larger numbers of students every day. There were other staff at the Academy, teaching subjects such as Literature, Art, and Music, as well as Science, Self-Defense, and Control of One's Powers. While known for a keen intellect that would have been best suited for a math or engineering course, Hank had been challenged to teach a subject that he had found particularly taxing: Mutant Ethics.
As the world seemed to grow and evolve around them, the place of mutants had shifted several times. Whereas once they were feared and hated, treated with the highest amounts of bigotry, today they were permitted to have their own Academy located on the spacious mansion grounds, to learn and shape the minds of today's youth with far less fear of persecution. The youth of the Academy needed to be taught not just how to control their powers, but also why they should. Too many young mutants had been seduced by the raw amount of power they obtained at such a young and impressionable age, and once someone has used their powers to take advantage of others, it was hard to sway them back to a realm of responsibility. It was a challenging class, teaching the precepts of right and wrong, and even moreso for Hank McCoy.
The students in his class seemed to be growing up far more quickly than he remembered as a child. Their bodies matured and their interests followed, causing many of them to dress provocatively, trying to entice each other as they seemed to engage in a revolving door of dating. Low cut blouses and short skirts were commonplace, and even the more modest students wore the standard issue X-Men uniforms, which was designed to be form-fitting for combat effectiveness, and as result even their clothes seemed to hug their curves tightly. For an adult such as Dr. McCoy to spend hours each day looking over the classroom filled with such attractive young ladies, and then teach a lesson on morality and proper ethics, seemed an overwhelming task. And at times, while debating the merits of right and wrong, it made him feel like an outright hypocrite.
Alone in his lab, Hank had locked the door and secured it with the sign that read "Hazardous Chemicals in Use". That one seemed to deter visitors more strongly that the "Do Not Disturb" ever could, and Dr. McCoy desperately needed a few minutes privacy after a particularly taxing day. One of the girls seated in the front row had worn no underwear beneath her skirt, and spent half the exam time with her legs spread, forcing the good doctor to employ every ounce of his personal restraint in order to limit his staring to just a few brief glances. He had felt a need for privacy for the past two hours, and the clock had crawled agonizingly slow, but finally class was over for the day and he had a few moments alone in the Academy to address his own personal needs.
Dr. McCoy lowered his briefs around his knees. Few people seemed to acknowledge how little clothing he wore, almost as though the fact he was covered in blue fur excused him from jumping around in something that was effectively just a pair of underwear embossed with the X-Men symbol on the waistband. Using one of his prehensile feet, he reached up and grabbed the waistband from his knee and lowered it down past his ankles, discarding the briefs to his laboratory floor while his hands already busied themselves to work.
Wrapping his forefinger and thumb into a circle around the base of his thick, blue shaft, he squeezed. For several seconds he just held himself in this position, squeezing the shaft at it's base, cutting off blood flow until it began to swell and grow stiff. Then, as his hardening manhood stood at attention, with his hand clenched tightly, he stroked up towards the tip of his length. It was a firm, milking motion that made the head bulge and throb as he drew his hand upward, and Hank released fully upon reaching the underside of the mushroom shaped head, re-gripping himself around the base to repeat the motion. Stroking only upward, never down, he pumped his hand along his thick cock, swelling up to his full length as his excitement grew. School policy may restrict his ability to interact with the students in his class, but in these quiet moments at the Academy, the Doctor could indulge himself in whatever way he felt fit.
As his hard rod grew thick and veiny, Hank wrapped his fully hand around the shaft, rapidly pumping his hand up and down over the length. His free hand motioned as if to cover the motion, only to rest his palm on the sensitive and swollen head, and then begin to rock his hand this way and that, rubbing his palm over the swollen tip in a polishing motion while his right continued to pump away at the shaft. He held his breath, excitement beginning to build as he chased after a much needed release that had eluded him throughout the long and miserable hours of teaching. Lifting his hand from the tip of his cock, he raised it to his chest, scratching his nails through his fur until he found the hard point of his nipple, and then nudging it with the tip of his index finger, applying light pressure as he pinched and twisted. He exhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, and began to pant with the building excitement.
Looking down, he could see the first white bead of his cum gathering at the tiny split in the head of his cock, breaking the barrier in preparation of the flood of his seed that was to cum. Hank leaned forward, dropping out of his chair and falling to his knees, his body tense and muscles taut, squeezing around his shaft as he seemed almost incapable of moving. Clenched within his grasp, his vice-like grip held back the wave of his excitement and he took a gasping breath. Releasing his shaft, he placed the ball of his hand against the underbelly of his hard cock and pressed firmly against his body, sandwiching his throbbing cock between his firm abs and the palm of his hand. Rocking his wrist, he rubbed his palm up and down his aching manhood, fingertips rolling back and forth over his loosely gathered sack, and he felt the swell of pressure rise within him. A thick, warm spurt of his cum burst from the tip of his cock, flooding his palm and gathering up his forearm. Releasing his shaft at last, the second burst followed quickly after the first, firing another hot, messy rope of his white cream which gathered over his thigh, mingling through his fur. As his torrid rod began to soften, drooping down towards the floor, he dribbled more at his feet, looking himself over at the horrendous mess he had made of his fur.
"This is going to take forever to clean," he groaned, rising back to his feet and covering himself with his labcoat, "Some days I really hate being a teacher."
F-List character: Dr Henry McCoy
Dr. McCoy had sequestered himself in his lab following class. Teaching at the Academy had been particularly challenging this year, as his class size had only continued to grow, and Hank found himself staring down larger numbers of students every day. There were other staff at the Academy, teaching subjects such as Literature, Art, and Music, as well as Science, Self-Defense, and Control of One's Powers. While known for a keen intellect that would have been best suited for a math or engineering course, Hank had been challenged to teach a subject that he had found particularly taxing: Mutant Ethics.
As the world seemed to grow and evolve around them, the place of mutants had shifted several times. Whereas once they were feared and hated, treated with the highest amounts of bigotry, today they were permitted to have their own Academy located on the spacious mansion grounds, to learn and shape the minds of today's youth with far less fear of persecution. The youth of the Academy needed to be taught not just how to control their powers, but also why they should. Too many young mutants had been seduced by the raw amount of power they obtained at such a young and impressionable age, and once someone has used their powers to take advantage of others, it was hard to sway them back to a realm of responsibility. It was a challenging class, teaching the precepts of right and wrong, and even moreso for Hank McCoy.
The students in his class seemed to be growing up far more quickly than he remembered as a child. Their bodies matured and their interests followed, causing many of them to dress provocatively, trying to entice each other as they seemed to engage in a revolving door of dating. Low cut blouses and short skirts were commonplace, and even the more modest students wore the standard issue X-Men uniforms, which was designed to be form-fitting for combat effectiveness, and as result even their clothes seemed to hug their curves tightly. For an adult such as Dr. McCoy to spend hours each day looking over the classroom filled with such attractive young ladies, and then teach a lesson on morality and proper ethics, seemed an overwhelming task. And at times, while debating the merits of right and wrong, it made him feel like an outright hypocrite.
Alone in his lab, Hank had locked the door and secured it with the sign that read "Hazardous Chemicals in Use". That one seemed to deter visitors more strongly that the "Do Not Disturb" ever could, and Dr. McCoy desperately needed a few minutes privacy after a particularly taxing day. One of the girls seated in the front row had worn no underwear beneath her skirt, and spent half the exam time with her legs spread, forcing the good doctor to employ every ounce of his personal restraint in order to limit his staring to just a few brief glances. He had felt a need for privacy for the past two hours, and the clock had crawled agonizingly slow, but finally class was over for the day and he had a few moments alone in the Academy to address his own personal needs.
Dr. McCoy lowered his briefs around his knees. Few people seemed to acknowledge how little clothing he wore, almost as though the fact he was covered in blue fur excused him from jumping around in something that was effectively just a pair of underwear embossed with the X-Men symbol on the waistband. Using one of his prehensile feet, he reached up and grabbed the waistband from his knee and lowered it down past his ankles, discarding the briefs to his laboratory floor while his hands already busied themselves to work.
Wrapping his forefinger and thumb into a circle around the base of his thick, blue shaft, he squeezed. For several seconds he just held himself in this position, squeezing the shaft at it's base, cutting off blood flow until it began to swell and grow stiff. Then, as his hardening manhood stood at attention, with his hand clenched tightly, he stroked up towards the tip of his length. It was a firm, milking motion that made the head bulge and throb as he drew his hand upward, and Hank released fully upon reaching the underside of the mushroom shaped head, re-gripping himself around the base to repeat the motion. Stroking only upward, never down, he pumped his hand along his thick cock, swelling up to his full length as his excitement grew. School policy may restrict his ability to interact with the students in his class, but in these quiet moments at the Academy, the Doctor could indulge himself in whatever way he felt fit.
As his hard rod grew thick and veiny, Hank wrapped his fully hand around the shaft, rapidly pumping his hand up and down over the length. His free hand motioned as if to cover the motion, only to rest his palm on the sensitive and swollen head, and then begin to rock his hand this way and that, rubbing his palm over the swollen tip in a polishing motion while his right continued to pump away at the shaft. He held his breath, excitement beginning to build as he chased after a much needed release that had eluded him throughout the long and miserable hours of teaching. Lifting his hand from the tip of his cock, he raised it to his chest, scratching his nails through his fur until he found the hard point of his nipple, and then nudging it with the tip of his index finger, applying light pressure as he pinched and twisted. He exhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, and began to pant with the building excitement.
Looking down, he could see the first white bead of his cum gathering at the tiny split in the head of his cock, breaking the barrier in preparation of the flood of his seed that was to cum. Hank leaned forward, dropping out of his chair and falling to his knees, his body tense and muscles taut, squeezing around his shaft as he seemed almost incapable of moving. Clenched within his grasp, his vice-like grip held back the wave of his excitement and he took a gasping breath. Releasing his shaft, he placed the ball of his hand against the underbelly of his hard cock and pressed firmly against his body, sandwiching his throbbing cock between his firm abs and the palm of his hand. Rocking his wrist, he rubbed his palm up and down his aching manhood, fingertips rolling back and forth over his loosely gathered sack, and he felt the swell of pressure rise within him. A thick, warm spurt of his cum burst from the tip of his cock, flooding his palm and gathering up his forearm. Releasing his shaft at last, the second burst followed quickly after the first, firing another hot, messy rope of his white cream which gathered over his thigh, mingling through his fur. As his torrid rod began to soften, drooping down towards the floor, he dribbled more at his feet, looking himself over at the horrendous mess he had made of his fur.
"This is going to take forever to clean," he groaned, rising back to his feet and covering himself with his labcoat, "Some days I really hate being a teacher."