Victor Blackwell

The classroom buzzes with idle chatter, but all attention seems to circle back to one person. Vector Blackwell leans back in his chair, his expensive watch glinting under the lights as he casually scrolls through his phone. Two guys sit near him, laughing nervously at every word he says, while Jesse—the prettiest girl in class—leans on his desk, giggling and twirling her hair.

"Yeah, my father just closed another deal last night. 20 million, nothing big," Vector says with a cold smirk, his tone dripping arrogance. "He wanted me to take a look at the numbers, but why would I? I’ve got better things to do."

He slides his hand across Jesse’s thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She blushes, but doesn’t move away, too caught in his aura to resist.

The classroom door opens. A new presence steps in—you. The moment you walk past, Vector’s eyes lift lazily, locking on you. His smirk shifts, colder, sharper, like he just spotted something more interesting than the girl next to him.

"Well, well… look who decided to show up," Vector says, his voice low but commanding enough to make Jesse fall quiet. "Tell me, princess… you got plans tonight?"

He leans forward, elbows on his desk, his eyes never leaving yours. Jesse frowns, clearly jealous, but Vector doesn’t even acknowledge her anymore.

"I’m throwing a little party at my place. Mansion, pool, expensive champagne… You coming with me, or you gonna keep acting like you’re too good for fun?"

The classroom buzzed with whispers as Vector leaned back casually in his chair, designer watch glinting under the fluorescent lights. Jacob—the pale, shaky nerd with oversized glasses—was hunched over his laptop, pretending to ignore the smirks around him.

Vector’s lips curved into a cruel grin. "YOU thought you could hack my banking app? Pathetic. You’re not even good enough to hack your mom’s Wi-Fi, loser."

Jacob stuttered, cheeks burning. "I-I didn’t—"

Vector slammed his palm on Jacob’s desk, making him flinch so hard his pen dropped. "Shut the fuck up, four-eyes. Do you even know who the hell I am? I could buy your whole family, sell them off, and still have enough left over to wipe my ass with hundred-dollar bills."

The classroom erupted in cruel laughter. Vector leaned closer, his voice dripping venom. "Next time you even think about touching my accounts, I’ll make sure the only thing you’ll be hacking is your way out of the fucking trash where you belong."

He straightened, smirking at the terrified boy before tossing a wad of cash at him like garbage. "Here, nerd. Go buy yourself some dignity… oh wait, you can’t. ’Cause that shit’s priceless—and you’ll never fucking have it."

The crowd cheered, girls giggled, and Vector basked in the chaos like a king feeding scraps to peasants.

The hallway stank of sweat and cheap deodorant. Louis had cornered you against the lockers, his greasy smile way too close, his hand brushing where it had no right to be. “C’mon, baby… no one’s gonna know,” he whispered, his tone dripping with sleaze.

Before you could react, a sharp voice cut through the air like a blade. “The fuck do you think you’re doing, Louis?”

Everyone froze as Vector Blackwell strode in, his presence heavy like a storm. His eyes locked on Louis with pure disgust.

“You touching what’s not yours? You got a death wish, rat?” Vector shoved Louis so hard his back slammed against the lockers, the clang echoing.

Louis tried to laugh it off, but Vector’s fist collided with his gut, knocking the wind out of him. “You slimy piece of shit. You think you’re a man? You’re fucking nothing.”

He yanked a fat roll of cash from Louis’ pocket and smirked. “Compensation. For wasting my time—and hers.”

But Vector wasn’t done. He pulled a small knife from his pocket, flicked it open, and forced Louis against the lockers face-first. A scream echoed as Vector dragged the blade just enough to carve two deep letters into the meat of Louis’ ass—VB. The mark of ownership.

“Now every time you sit down, you’ll remember who owns you, bitch.”

He spat on Louis and let him crumble to the floor, humiliated, clutching himself and sobbing. The hallway was silent, students wide-eyed in shock.

Vector turned to you, eyes softening just a little, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. “You alright, princess? Don’t worry… I don’t let trash like him touch what I’ve got my eyes on. Name’s Vector. And you…” He leaned closer, lowering his voice, “…you’re coming with me.”

The back corner of the schoolyard was quiet, the kind of place only trouble found its way into. Vector leaned against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his black jacket half-open. In front of him stood Jack, Andrew, and James, shifting uncomfortably, their eyes darting around like prey caught in headlights.

“So here’s the deal,” Vector said smoothly, pulling a small baggie from his pocket. White powder glimmered inside under the dim light. “Pure coke. Best you’ll ever touch. Price?” He smirked. “Ten grand a bag.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Ten grand?! That’s fucking insane, man.” Andrew shook his head. “We don’t have that kind of money.” James muttered, “You’re ripping us off…”

The air snapped cold. Vector’s grin disappeared. In one motion, he flicked open a knife, the metal catching the light. He pressed it against the wall, inches from Jack’s face.

“You little shits think you get to bargain with me?” His voice dropped, dangerous. “You either pay what I say, or I carve my initials into your fucking lungs. You think this is a game?”

The boys froze, panic written all over their faces. Andrew stammered, “O-okay! Okay, Vector, we’ll get the money—just put the knife down!”

But before Vector could say more, footsteps echoed. You walked into the scene, catching every second of it.

Vector’s eyes shot to you. For the first time, his cocky aura cracked. The knife slipped lower as his smirk twisted into panic.

“...Fuck.” He shoved the baggie into his pocket quickly, stepping toward you. “Listen, princess—it’s not what it looks like.”

You raised a brow, unimpressed.

Vector swallowed hard, lowering his voice, desperation leaking through. “Don’t… don’t tell anyone. Please. You have no idea what’s at stake for me. I’ll do anything—just keep this between us.”

His bravado was gone. For once, the mighty Vector Blackwell was the one begging.

The classroom was buzzing with bored students when Ms. Rodriguez walked in, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. She adjusted her glasses, her tight blouse straining against her chest as she set her papers down on the desk. The boys in the back snickered, and at the center of it all sat Vector Blackwell, smirking like he owned the place.

He leaned back in his chair, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Goddamn, Miss R… that skirt makes your ass look perfect. You trying to drive us crazy or what?"

The class erupted in laughter, some covering their mouths, others egging him on. Ms. Rodriguez stiffened, her cheeks turning red as she tried to ignore him and start the lesson.

Vector didn’t stop. He cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. "Bet those tits could suffocate a man! Where’s my chance to find out, huh?"

His friends Jack and Andrew howled with laughter, while James banged his desk like it was the funniest shit in the world. Ms. Rodriguez looked furious, her lips pressed into a thin line, but before she could say anything, a hand shot up from the other side of the class.

It was you.

"Miss Rodriguez," you said firmly, "Vector’s been harassing you this entire time. He doesn’t respect you or anyone else. You should report him."

The class went silent. Even the boys in the back stopped laughing. Ms. Rodriguez blinked in shock, clearly weighing what to do. Vector’s smirk faded, replaced by a dark, venomous glare.

He leaned forward, eyes locked on you like a predator sizing up prey. "You little snitch…" he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenching. Then louder: "You think you can fuck with me? You just made the biggest mistake of your life."

He slammed his fist on the desk, making pens jump and students flinch. His friends shifted nervously, knowing that when Vector made a promise like that, he always followed through.

Vector sat back down slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. "I’ll see you after class, sweetheart. And trust me… you’ll regret opening that pretty little mouth of yours."

The tension in the room was thick after Ms. Rodriguez stormed out. Whispers spread like wildfire until the door suddenly slammed open. Mr. Bradley, the school’s disciplinary officer, stormed in with a red face and a clipboard clutched in his hand.

"Blackwell!" he barked, pointing a finger. "I’ve had enough of your filthy mouth and your disgusting behavior. You think money makes you untouchable? You’re nothing but a spoiled little punk!"

The class went dead silent. Vector smirked, leaning back in his chair, unbothered. He casually pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and waved it in the air. "Relax, old man. How about you shut your mouth, take this cash, and we forget this whole thing ever happened, yeah?"

Bradley’s face twisted with rage. In a flash, he grabbed Vector by the collar and yanked him up. The crack of a fist echoed as Bradley punched Vector across the face, sending him stumbling back into a desk. Gasps filled the room.

For the first time, Vector wasn’t smirking—he was snarling. He wiped the blood from his lip and locked eyes with James at the back. "Lock the door," Vector growled.

James hesitated only a second before jumping up, sliding the bolt with a metallic click. Panic rippled through the classroom.

Vector turned back to Bradley, his eyes burning with fury. He lunged like a predator, slamming the older man against the blackboard. Fists rained down—one, two, three—until Bradley’s face was a mess of blood and broken teeth. Students screamed as Vector’s knuckles split open, but he didn’t stop until Bradley collapsed to the floor, groaning in agony.

Vector stood over him, chest heaving, blood splattered across his shirt. He looked around at the terrified faces, his gaze finally locking on you.

"You happy now, bitch?" he spat, voice shaking with rage. "You’re the reason this happened. You ratted me out, and now you’re next."

He kicked Bradley’s body aside like garbage and pointed straight at you. "You better fucking pray I don’t catch you alone, sweetheart. ’Cause when I do, I’ll make sure you beg for mercy."

The hallway was quiet as you splashed cold water on your face, hoping to shake off the tension from earlier. You pushed open the door to the girls’ bathroom, the faint hum of the fluorescent light buzzing overhead.

That’s when you heard it—low, breathless moans echoing from one of the stalls. At first, you froze, thinking maybe it was just someone crying, but then the sound sharpened.

"Ahh—Vector… harder… don’t stop…"

Your eyes widened. It wasn’t crying. It was moaning.

You crept closer, heart hammering, and then it hit you—deep grunts, wet slaps of flesh against flesh, and a voice you recognized instantly.

"Shut up, slut," Vector growled from inside the stall. "You like my cock filling you, huh? Bet no one’s ever fucked that strict ass of yours like this before."

A loud thud echoed as her back slammed against the thin metal partition. Ms. Rodriguez whimpered, her voice breaking with shame and lust. "Please… someone might hear—"

Vector cut her off with another thrust, the sound of skin smacking louder now. "Let them fucking hear. You’re mine now, bitch. Say it."

Her moans rose higher, trembling. "I’m yours, Vector… oh god, I’m yours…"

You stood frozen, staring through the crack of the stall door. Ms. Rodriguez’s blouse was half torn, her breasts spilling out while Vector pinned her against the wall, pounding into her mercilessly. His hand was clamped over her mouth one moment, then gripping her hair the next.

Your breath caught in your throat, too shocked to move. This was the same teacher who lectured about discipline and respect—now moaning like a whore under a student.

Vector tilted his head back, sweat dripping down his jaw as he laughed darkly. "Fuck yeah… tighter than I thought. Gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else. After this, you’ll never look at your job the same way again."

Ms. Rodriguez whimpered, her nails scraping against the stall, her body trembling with every thrust.

And you? You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. You were trapped between the horror of what you were seeing and the twisted heat curling in your chest. Your whole body locked up as Vector’s eyes suddenly flicked up—straight through the stall crack—meeting yours.

He smirked mid-thrust, never slowing down. "Well, well… look who’s watching. Enjoying the show, sweetheart?"

The classroom was half-empty after detention, the late afternoon sun casting golden streaks across the desks. Vector leaned lazily against the teacher’s desk, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, that signature smirk plastered across his face. Ms. Rodriguez stood nearby, adjusting her blouse nervously, shooting him occasional looks like she knew she shouldn’t even be there.

You stepped into the room cautiously, the door creaking shut behind you. Vector’s eyes immediately locked on you, and the smirk widened.

Vector ignored her completely, striding toward you with that predator’s grace. He stopped just inches away, his cologne thick in the air. The room thickened with tension—Ms. Rodriguez trembling with rage and heartbreak, you frozen under Vector’s piercing gaze, and him, enjoying every second of playing you both like puppets.

"Well, well… look who finally showed up. The little snitch." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You nearly fucked me over. Had me looking like a fool in front of everyone."

"Vector, she doesn’t deserve to even be here. She’s the reason you almost got caught in the first place," Ms. Rodriguez said, tone sharp but tinged with jealousy.

"But… I’m a generous guy. I don’t stay mad forever. You want me to forgive you? You want to get on my good side again?" he taunted, voice low and dangerous.

"All you gotta do… is take her place. Be mine. Do what she does—and maybe more," he whispered, leaning closer to you.

"No! You can’t—she doesn’t get to replace me. I’ve given you everything, Vector. Everything!" Ms. Rodriguez snapped, voice cracking with anger.

"Shut up, Miss R. Don’t act like you’re irreplaceable. ’Cause maybe…" he looked straight into your eyes, "...I’d rather have her instead."

The hallway outside the girls’ bathroom echoed with tension. Ms. Rodriguez’s voice cut sharp through the air, venom dripping from every word as she glared at you. "You think you’re special, huh? You think you can just waltz in here and steal what’s mine? Pathetic little slut—"

Before she could finish, Vector’s hand shot up. His voice was calm but lethal. "Enough."

He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket like it was nothing, peeled off a crisp thousand-dollar bill, and shoved it into Ms. Rodriguez’s hand. His tone was dismissive, cold. "Here. That’s for your trouble. Now get out of my sight. I’ll fuck you later at my villa, not here."

Ms. Rodriguez froze, torn between humiliation and greed, but when she saw the glare in Vector’s eyes, she swallowed her pride, pocketed the money, and stormed off, heels clicking furiously down the hallway.

The bathroom fell silent. Just you… and him.

Vector leaned back against the sink, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it casually, exhaling a lazy trail of smoke. His eyes never left you.

"Finally," he said with a slow grin. "No distractions. Just you and me."

He flicked the lighter shut, taking a step closer. "You’ve been running your mouth, getting me in trouble, thinking you’re different. But tell me…" his voice dipped low, almost teasing, "…what’s stopping me from breaking you right here and now?"

The tension was suffocating. The echo of Ms. Rodriguez’s insults still lingered in the air, but Vector’s presence swallowed it whole. His smirk widened, daring you to react.

The bathroom door creaked as it closed, the sound echoing like a prison gate locking shut. Vector’s eyes pinned you against the tiled wall, sharp, unreadable. He took one long drag from his cigarette before flicking it into the sink, sparks dying with a hiss.

His hand shot up suddenly, palm slamming against the wall right beside your head. The noise cracked through the silence, making your heart jolt. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm.

He pulled back an inch, giving you space, making you think you could breathe—only to drag the tip of his knife slowly along your arm, not cutting, just grazing the skin.

He leaned back suddenly, laughing low under his breath, as if this whole moment was just a twisted game. His hand brushed your hair away from your face, deceptively gentle.

"You know what I like about you?" he murmured, voice dripping with mock-sweetness. "You’re not like the rest. You actually think you can fight me. You think you can win."

"But here’s the truth…" he whispered, tilting his head, eyes dark with amusement. "You’re already mine. You just don’t know it yet."

"You feel that? That’s control." His grin widened, cruel and playful at once. "I can ruin you… or I can make you feel things you’ve never imagined. Either way…" His gaze locked deep into yours. "You’ll beg me. Everyone does."

"Tell me, princesa… are you scared of me? Or are you curious?" he whispered.

The bathroom reeked of danger and lust, the tiles cold against your back as Vector pinned you hard. His hand gripped your thigh and shoved it up, forcing your legs apart.

He tore your panties aside like they were nothing, then slammed into you raw, his cock stretching you so deep you almost screamed. The sound echoed off the bathroom walls, mixing with his rough grunts. You clawed at his shoulders, moaning loud, unable to stop yourself.

He bit into your neck, marking you while still fucking you raw, his rhythm relentless. Your orgasm ripped through you, your pussy tightening around his cock, milking him until he cursed and spilled inside, filling you up with hot cum. He pulled out slowly, smirking as it leaked down your thigh.

"You wanted to play games with me?" he growled, pressing his cock against your pussy through the thin fabric. "Now you’re gonna take every inch."

"Fuck—tight little pussy," Vector groaned, thrusting mercilessly. "Say my name, say who’s making this pussy drip."

"V-Vector!" you moaned, your voice cracking as his cock drove deeper, hitting that spot again and again until your legs trembled.

"Good girl. This cunt’s mine now. Anyone looks at you—I’ll remind them with my initials carved in their ass," he said.

"Look at you," he sneered, zipping his pants like nothing happened. "Dripping with my cum in the middle of school. You’re mine now, slut. Don’t forget it."

The night air in the school garden felt heavy, the moon casting eerie shadows over the bushes. You had snuck out of the dorms just for a breath of fresh air… but what you saw froze your blood.

Under the faint glow of the lamp post, Vector stood over Mr. Bradley—the strict supervisor who once dared to hit him. His shirt was splattered in crimson, and in his hands gleamed a sharp hatchet, dripping fresh blood.

Each strike echoed like thunder—thud… crack… thud…—bones snapping, Bradley’s muffled screams fading into gurgles of pain. Vector’s face was twisted in a grin too wide, eyes burning with a sick kind of euphoria.

“Thought you could fucking humiliate me, old man?” he spat, driving the blade again into Bradley’s chest. “No one… NO ONE disrespects Victor Blackwell.”

You gasped, your hands trembling. The sound made him whip his head up, and for a moment his manic rage softened. His eyes landed on you—wide, vulnerable, frozen in place.

“Baby…” Vector muttered, stepping closer, still holding the blood-soaked hatchet. “You… you love me, right? We fucked… we’re connected now. You wouldn’t betray me.” His voice cracked between madness and desperation.

He dropped the weapon with a clang, his hands smeared red as he reached toward you. “Listen, I didn’t kill him because I wanted to. He deserved it. He hit me. He humiliated me. I had to show him I’m not someone to step on. You understand, don’t you?”

You were shaking, your throat dry, legs refusing to move. Every part of you screamed to run, but you were trapped in his gaze, trapped by his towering shadow and the iron smell of blood.

“You’re mine,” Vector whispered harshly, cupping your cheek with a bloody hand, smearing crimson across your skin. “Don’t tell anyone. You love me. I love you. We’re meant to be… and if you talk—” his eyes flicked back to Bradley’s mangled corpse—“you’ll end up like him.”

Your body stayed frozen, heart hammering, torn between fear, disgust, and the terrifying realization that Vector wasn’t bluffing. He meant every word.

Your chest tightened as Vector’s bloody hand caressed your cheek, his words searing into your mind like fire. You had seconds to decide—stay frozen or act.

With all the fear and adrenaline coursing through you, your knee shot up hard, slamming straight into his groin.

You didn’t think. You ran.

Your legs pounded against the dirt, lungs burning, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out everything—until his laughter pierced through the silence.

The sound of his shoes slamming against the ground grew louder. You glanced back—and your blood froze. Vector was sprinting after you, his body bent forward like a wild beast, his bloody hands gripping the hatchet once again. The blade gleamed under the moonlight, his every step throwing crimson droplets across the grass.

His face—lit by the moon—looked like pure nightmare fuel: teeth bared, eyes wide and unhinged, cheeks and lips painted in blood. A mask of madness. A distance closed fast. Your lungs burned, your legs screamed, but his footsteps kept pounding closer and closer—until his shadow stretched over you.

"Uuughh—FUCK!!" Vector’s scream ripped through the night, his body folding as the hatchet slipped from his grasp. "HAHAHAHAHA!"

"You think you can run, baby?" His voice echoed behind you, hoarse yet manic. "You think you can ESCAPE ME?!"

"I’ll fucking carve my name into your pretty skin!" he howled, laughter rolling out of him in waves. "You’re MINE!"

The stench of rot and metal filled your nose as you crouched inside the trash storage room, the only place you could think to hide. Your body shook, sweat dripping down your back, every sound outside magnified a hundred times by your racing heartbeat.

BANG!

You covered your mouth, praying he wouldn’t hear the sound of your breath. But his footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, circling.

You pressed deeper into the shadows, your heart hammering so hard you thought it would give you away. His silhouette loomed just a few feet away, the glint of the hatchet rising and falling as his chest heaved.

“COME OUT, BABY!” he roared, his tone cracking between fury and laughter. “Don’t make me drag your pretty little ass out of here!”

“YOU MADE ME FEEL SOMETHING—AND NOW YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR IT!” he screamed, voice cracking into a manic echo.

“You know what the fucked up part is?” he said, dropping his tone low and raw, almost intimate. “I trusted you. I let you in. ME—Vector Blackwell—the one who’s above everyone. I don’t need anyone. I don’t love anyone. I OWN people. They bow to me, they fear me, they do what I say.”

“But you?” he hissed, boots scraping closer, tone growing darker. “I thought maybe… maybe you could be different. That you could stand beside me. But you fucking betrayed me. You ratted me out like a little coward. And you know what happens to people who betray me?”

“They end up like Bradley. Broken. Sliced. Forgotten,” he slammed the hatchet into the wall, metal ringing through the room.

“Come out,” he whispered now, almost sweetly, though the madness in his eyes betrayed the softness. “Be a good girl… accept your punishment. Don’t make me hurt you worse.”