It was with a arduous sigh that the theater theater director Mister Benson paused the recording of their last exercise, freeze-framing the principal of the play mid-screen, one Miss Scarlett Johansson. His saturnine heart swivelled from the screenland to the high schooler sitting across from him on the couch as they had an after-school meeting in his office.

"Yeah, it's not your best, Scarlett. It's actually pretty bad."

The high shoal senior's shoulder joint dropped and her beautiful green eyes threatened tear. She barely heard her drama teacher as he started to foot apart her performance, feeling numb and dumb. The problems with her acting he was mentioning he couldn't possibly actually find were problems ! It was all so subjective !

Anyone else who didn't have her future in her manpower, she would possess snapped back with a snarky riposte, or argued that he didn't know what he was talking about. But ... she knew she had to impress him, so she sat and listened.

Over the course of the crack-up the a lot older instructor leaned finisher and closer to the very curvy teenager, sometimes resting his helping hand on the schoolgirl chick she was wearing. This kept happening often, until his handwriting started brushing against the endanger bare skin of her leg that the wanna-be starlet Scarlett started feeling a churning feeling inside of her matt tummy that something was wrong, and she should get out of here.

Before she could do anything but loose and last her plush lips a few times like a Pisces the Fishes, the teacher's eyes locked on the very sonsie swelling of her button-up shirt, before travelling up to her angular and perfectly formed nerve. As if he had every right wing to do it, he slid his hand deliberately up her dame and rested his gnarled palm on her second joint.

He leaned forward, stroking and rubbing her thigh,"You're very smart, Scarlett. You know you're going to need my assist to get into that acting schooling in New York."

Scarlett Johansson felt like she was disassociating from her body, and she felt herself going limp. It was like she could celebrate what was happening from a distance, across the elbow room. His other hired hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into him, resting her school principal on his articulatio humeri. His handwriting was between her thighs, rubbing her pussy.

His groan were searing themselves into her mind, the type of moan where there isn't a dubiousness that the man is getting exactly what he wants. It was like watching a movie, the teen thought as in her distracted brain she watched the scene unfold. Her snatch was soaked from her rubbing, and like a marionette on strings, she watched as she let him digest her up and tug her underwear to her mortise joint. During her repositioning, his stopcock had been take a hop destitute from his pants, throbbing and hard.

She could only barely palpate the pressure of the desk on which her tits rested as her instructor bent-grass her over, and tried her best to blank out out the smell of his stopcock sawing against her ass and pussy. Scarlett watched the scene in her creative thinker, scoffing at how much of a slut the woman was until she remembered it was her, and she felt herself crashing back towards reality, all the while wishing she'd get up and run out of the way, never to see the weirdie again. Why was her kitty leaking ?

Was going to Lee Israel Strassberg and becoming a famed actress worth this ?

As her instructor's peter slid inside of Scarlett Johansson's burning cunt, he whispered"shtup, oh fuck, oh fuuuuckkk,"right into her ear as she shuddered and twitched under him. She didn't motion, she didn't assistance him get off, but he continued to bed her into the desk for nearly 20 minutes, until his digit returned to her slit in addition to the rooster fucking her.

She began feeling dizzy, the humans spinning in her mind as his grunts turned to primal groans. Some insubstantial champion was building in her dead body like she'd never felt before, deep in her venter. She started to rock back onto his lap, her dead body moving with every thrust he made.

The scream from her unexpected coming would consume given them both away, alerted anyone else left in the school day, if he didn't clamp his hand powerfully over her mouth as she convulsed with delight under him. He never let up through it all, bother and panic stage setting in as he went hard and faster, until his own end came and, deep interior of Scarlett Johansson's blind drunk teen twat, he sprayed load after onus of cum.

When he slowly pulled from her, it was like he pulled a plug and the electrical energy went out. Scarlett was suddenly in her mind again, no longer looking at this dispassionately, disassociating it from herself. She bobbed to the floor and pulled up her underwear, and scrambled over the desk. She grabbed her backpack and practically ran out of the door to her car.

It was a furious, fast drive home, but she didn't find any comfort there. She didn't sleep that Nox, instead she rubbed herself way Mr. Benson did, trying her best to recapture the feeling of his breathing spell, his grunts, his spot. She came again, over and over, until her body couldn't sexual climax any more.

In a upright, just world that would let been their first and only encounter. Actually, in a good man a beautiful gifted cleaning woman like Scarlett Johansson would never possess been raped by her play instructor at all, but life wasn't that way. As life isn't funfair, or just, she stayed after schooling at least once a week for surplus acting lessons from her teacher. In the end, he kept his Holy Writ and she got an A+ in the class, and got a personal testimonial from him to advert acting school day at the Lee Strasberg Theatre & picture show Institute.

From there the rest was chronicle, and the beautiful teen would grow up and enter Hollywood, becoming the highest grossing adult female actress of all time.

The feeling of being raped never left her, not really. Recently she looked up Mister Benson to see if he was still teaching, and she saw that he was arrested six month ago for - what else - having sex with a student. That weight felt heavy on her. How many other charwoman would receive been saved if she had spoken up ? Was having the life she did, the vocation she did, worth it happening to her ? Or happening to all those female child she didn't do it ? Would she do it again, if she knew what would happen ?

She didn't have those answers, and she hated herself for it .