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Extracurricular Activities Ch. 01

By: ArthurianMorgaine



Thursday, Senior English Reading and Composition

The bell rang and the students took their time finding their seats, still chatting while the teacher gathered some papers and her thoughts. The teacher, Ms. Callahan, was wearing a black pencil skirt and cobalt blue button-down shirt with matte black pumps and had her auburn hair in a tight, braided bun to keep it out of her face. She was a short and petite woman with a few curves that she kept hidden under demure clothes. This was only her second year of teaching and she loved inspiring young pupils. She felt as though she could relate to her students better than most teachers, she had only graduated high school six years ago.

"Alright class, take your seats and pass up your homework," she said, pushing her cat-eye glasses up from the tip of her nose, vintage silver bracelets jingling slightly. "How did everyone enjoy the reading last night?" she queried, "Chris, why don't you give us a synopsis," she requested.

A tall, gangly young man in the middle of the class stood up and began stammering, "Well, uh, Jurgis found out that all the tainted meat is ground into sausages. His son kept getting sick and his wife is pregnant again." Chris fidgeted with his shirt and put his hands in the pocket of his jeans. "And he took up drinking to drown his sorrows," he pieced together from the bits he remembered reading the night before, Upton Sinclair's 'The Jungle.' He ran his fingers nervously through his dark brown hair, brown eyes scanning the room, before the teacher motioned for him to take his seat once more.

"Good, now what else can we get out of all of this? How can this relate to modern times?" Ms. Callahan had continued her discussion with the class and Chris felt relieved that she had moved on from him. He had read the chapters, the descriptions of the atrocities in the meatpacking industry, the graft, the corruption had intrigued him and he had even read more chapters than he was assigned. It wasn't the reading that was causing him to fail class, it was the composition. He had so many ideas but couldn't convey them without, as he said, 'sounding stupid'.

He had wracked his brain last night trying to come up with a topic for his writing assignment, a letter home as Jurgis or Ona, explaining what was happening in their lives. It was a way to summarize the chapters and get the class to work on their writing skills but it only served to frustrate Chris further.

Ms. Callahan had continued to converse with the class about the book but Chris' thoughts were elsewhere. He stared vacantly at the painted cinder-block walls as his mind wandered. Noticing her pupil was no longer engaged in the discussion, Ms. Callahan decided it was time to put him on the spot. "How did that make you feel, Chris?" she asked, being as vague as possible.

"What?" he faltered.

"How did that make you feel?" she repeated, just as obscurely.

His face turned red and she gave him a knowing look and moved on to another student. This time he forced himself to pay attention.

The bell sounded a short while later and Ms. Callahan shouted last-minute homework instructions over the din of students packing up their books, "Read the next three chapters and be prepared for our regular Friday quiz tomorrow!" Everyone filed out of class, most kids going to lunch next. "Mr. Gaiten, can you hold up for a second?" she said as she herself packed her things to go off to enjoy lunch.

Chris sighed and knew he was going to be chided for his inattentiveness, "Yes, Ms. Callahan." He took his time packing up, avoiding eye-contact with his teacher. She had this way of making the strongest man feel one inch tall sometimes and meeting her gaze only made it worse. The red-haired woman came to his desk and sat at the seat next to him, crossing her legs, her black skirt riding up ever so slightly.

"Chris, I'm concerned about your grades in class," she began softly. "I know you are a very bright young man, but you seem to be struggling with the writing assignments," the woman observed. "This class is a graduation requirement. If you don't pass, you will not be walking across that stage in June with the rest of your classmates," she stated rather matter-of-factly. Chris pushed his wire-framed glasses further up his nose, fidgeting, avoiding speech. Ms. Callahan tried to avert further uncomfortable silence by continuing to speak, "I know I'm new at this," she started, "but I am willing to give you some tutoring if you can find time. I think with some work, we can definitely get you up to a passing grade, maybe even more," she said excitedly. The other teachers told her not to get overly invested in her students. They warned her that it would only lead to disappointment and cause her to burn out sooner. She ignored them. "What days are good for you?" she asked.

Chris' brown eyes met her green ones and he nodded, "I have work on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, but I'm free the rest of the week."

Ms. Callahan pulled out her day planner and flipped the pages until she got to this week. The entries were written in several different colors. "Looks like my week is pretty full this week. Every Tuesday I teach night class for GED students so that's no good. Wednesday I have an appointment I have to keep. Monday I have the cable guy coming between three and god-only-knows-when but if you want to come over to my place, we can wait for him together and I'll tutor you in the meantime!" she said excitedly.

Chris nodded, "Thank you Ms. Callahan. Should I follow you home after school?"

"Give me your cell phone," she requested, offering her hand. He placed the phone in her hand and she pulled out her own. She brought them close together, pressed a few buttons and they sounded simultaneously. "There, my contact info is in your phone and vice versa." She pulled out a pen and jotted a note in her planner on Monday in black ink. Tuesday was blue and a few different names were written in red ink on Wednesday along with a few more names in red on Saturday.

"How many people do you tutor?" Chris questioned, pointing to the names in red ink.

"Lots of people need my help Chris, I'm a very busy woman," she stated plainly, closing her planner to his prying eyes, "I hope that you see that and will keep your appointment."

"Thanks again Ms. Callahan. I will see you tomorrow!" He shook her hand and left the classroom in a hurry to try to catch the last few minutes of lunch.

The rest of the day seemed to drag on for Chris; presentations in World History and another boring lecture from Mrs. Olsen in Biology. After the last bell he made his way to his locker, stashed his books and grabbed his backpack and headed briskly to his car. He unlocked the doors on his old Toyota Tercel and threw his bag in the back where it promptly got lost amongst all of the mess strewn about. Key in the ignition, engine turning over, seatbelt on; he pulled out of the parking lot before too many of his classmates choked the exit. 

Chris turned up the music in his car and rolled down the windows to let in the warm spring air. The restaurant where he worked was not too far from school and didn't take him more than fifteen minutes to arrive. He parked out back near the loading dock and rummaged through the back seat of his car for a moderately clean chef coat. He got dressed as he strolled in through the doors and headed over to clock in.

"G-Man!" came a greeting from a jovial middle-aged man with dark hair, mustache and a pot belly. He was wearing a stained apron and crab-themed chef pants, "How was school, man?"

"It was okay," Chris responded as he tucked his hair under a baseball cap that said Black Bear Hotel on it. "What are you making today, Mark?" the apprentice queried as he washed his hands. Mark had worked in the restaurant industry for over two decades and it showed. His hands were rough, worn and callused from all the years of hard work. The man knew his stuff though. He could make some killer food seemingly effortlessly. 

"Just cutting mirepoix for the Osso Bucco," Mark said, piles of carrots, onions and celery on his cutting board. "I think Chef's in the office, she said something about having you cut fifty pounds of potatoes."

"Fuck!" Chris exclaimed, "Dude, my hands still haven't healed from last week!"

"Dude, you gotta put in your dues," came a feminine voice from the walk-in cooler.

"Hey Sarah. How was the lunch rush?" he asked the sous chef.

"It was okay. Some bitch decided to wait until she was already served her well-done steak sandwich to tell her waitress that she was 'allergic' to the roasted tomato spread on top. If you have such a serious allergy, maybe you should read the menu a bit better, or ask your waitress... stupid cunt!" the young woman vented. Sarah emerged from the refrigerator carrying a large bag of potatoes. "But they cleaned us out of frites and we still need homefries cut for Brunch this weekend and potatoes for the gratin, so get to it!" she told the apprentice. Sarah was only twenty-six and already second-in-command of the kitchen. The head chef, a man in his forties, was usually never around; he came in, did paperwork, went to meetings, nit-picked the cooks' work and went home. It was safe to say he wasn't well-liked.

Chris got out the fry press and began cutting two-five gallon buckets of frites, soaking them in water to keep them from turning brown. The rest of the crew trickled in, a rag-tag bunch of men with various backgrounds and levels of experience in the kitchen. Each wore a white chef coat, including the dishwashers, and Black Bear ball cap but were allowed to wear whatever pants they chose. It was a tradition to see what kind of crazy chef pants Mark would be wearing today.

Sarah came up behind Chris and observed how he was doing. It always made him a bit uneasy. Sarah was a lot shorter than him, her kerchiefed head only came up to his chest, but she was strong and strong-willed. She didn't take any crap from anyone. One Saturday night, just before close, a drunk man was being belligerent to one of the female bartenders. Sarah had gone out to the dining room to tell the man to leave. He refused and she grabbed the gentleman by the shirt and dragged him bodily out of the restaurant, locking the door once she got back in. People didn't mess with her. 

"Chris, I need you to finish up soon," she said while she stood next to him. She picked up a mandoline slicer and began cutting potatoes paper thin for the gratin.

"Yes ma'am. What should I do once I'm done?" he asked.

"Jose is out for a while, he 'cut his finger at home' and had to get stitches." Chris nodded as she made air-quote fingers. 'Cutting yourself at home' was a way to avoid getting drug tested and subsequently fired. Everyone had their vices in the restaurant industry; Mark drank, Jose smoked pot to relax after his shift and even Sarah slept with anything with a pulse. Anything except young apprentices, or so it seemed to Chris. "I'm moving Mark over to the grill station to cover Jose, I'll be doing sauté and expediting and I'm going to have you jump on salad station. Don't fuck it up, Newbie," Sarah remarked, jabbing Chris in the ribs sharply with her elbow. Chris winced, not a lot of meat on his bones to cushion the blow. He was excited to be working the line. "It's Thursday so it shouldn't be too busy for dinner," Sarah continued, "You have the salad menu memorized, right?"

"Yes ma'am," Chris replied.

"Good. " Sarah got as close to 'in his face' as a woman of her stature could, "If you fuck this up, rest assured you will be peeling potatoes for the whole fucking summer. You will be my potato bitch! Do. You. Understand?" she added, very deliberately. Chris nodded solemnly. "Good!" she said merrily, switching her moods with the unpredictability of a bipolar person. "Now finish these potatoes and I'll help you set up your station!" Sarah left Chris to finish his work and began prepping up the sauté station. 

The rest of the night went off fairly smoothly. Sarah helped Chris set up his station and she quizzed him about the salads on the menu. "What goes in the House Salad?" she asked to which he recited the ingredients. "And what kind of dressing goes on the Bibb Salad?"

"Blood Orange Vinaigrette," he iterated. "And the Arugula, Endive and Pear Salad has roasted red onions and toasted hazelnut dressing," he added a bit smugly. Sarah just rolled her eyes. She had seen it before, cocky green-horns; she knew better than to get her hopes up for a smooth service. 

Dinner service started promptly at five and the waitstaff promptly screwed us their order which only fueled the rage Sarah had bubbling just below the surface. She checked the ticket and shouted for the dining room manager to bring in the offending waitress.

"When you take a steak order, you need to ask for a temperature or I'm going to put a raw piece of meat on this plate and you can explain to the customer how incompetent you are," she said through clenched teeth. 

The dinner rush picked up but Chris kept up with the orders. He had begun to impress the sous chef and other cooks on the line. The usual chorus of shouts for a 'food runner', 'dishwasher' and 'Plates!' kept people scurrying around the kitchen. The printer went off every few minutes and Chris filled and emptied his board like a pro. He had even begun working on dessert orders without prodding from Sarah. His confidence grew and as the night ended, he had a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

"What're you smiling about, Newbie?" Sarah asked as Chris was wiping the counter with a damp cloth.

"I'm just smiling because it looks like you are going to have to find someone else to be your potato bitch this summer!"

"Just because you had one good night doesn't mean you aren't going to fall flat on your face tomorrow during service," Sarah remarked, knocking him down a peg. As she walked past him towards the dish machine with a roasting pan full of dirty sauté pans she gave him an 'attaboy' smile.

Sarah came back a few minutes later with four shot glasses filled with an amber-colored liquid, "To Chris' first night on the line," she cheered, raising a glass with one hand and pulling the scrawny boy closer with the other. Chris took a glass tentatively and Mark took his with the fourth going to the cook at the far end of the line.

"I'm only eighteen," he whispered to the sous chef.

"So, we're celebrating. You survived! You aren't going to get shit-faced off one shot of Hennessy, are you?" Sarah asked, a quizzical look on her face. "Besides, it'll put hair on your chest, and according to a Jamaican friend of mine, a hard-on in your pants!" Chris took his shot and nearly gagged when his boss began talking about hard-ons. The liquor went down smoothly and hit his empty stomach quickly. "You done good, boy!" Sarah said, giving him a hearty slap on the back. "Wipe down your station and head out. You have school tomorrow," she said in an almost motherly fashion.

Chris did as he was told and headed out for the night. He didn't have much homework; he had already read the chapters for English and his presentation in History had already been given. He threw his coat into the back of his car and sped off. His head was already starting to swim as he pulled into his driveway, the Hennessy taking effect. It was late and his parents were already upstairs in their room for the night so they weren't there to witness his wobbly walk through the halls. He turned the knob to his bedroom and locked it behind himself. Chris stripped down to only his boxers and flopped down on his bed, pulling his blanket over his lower body to protect himself from the chill in his bedroom. He hated that he always came home smelling like food and had a tendency to take off the offending clothing as soon as possible. He grabbed his computer and put it in his lap, his face lit with the glow from its screen. 

As he checked his emails and Facebook, his head began to feel lighter and lighter. He hadn't eaten all day and the shot of cognac was taking its effects quickly on his light frame. His Facebook news feed was filled with pictures of the girls from his classes, scantily clad, making kissing faces into the cameras they held. He was feeling the sexual desire that Sarah had spoke of in the restaurant but needed something different to look at to sate his lust.

He pulled up a new tab in his browser and went to his Favorites and clicked on a link towards the bottom. Up popped a site with women dressed in leather and latex holding whips. His cock twitched and got harder under the blanket. He adjusted himself and continued exploring the site. 

Dominant women had always turned him on. Sarah, when she was being particularly cruel, would often whip him and the other cooks on the ass with the wet tail end of a towel. She had left welts on several different occasions and as he sat down on the later, the jolt of pain would cause him to get turned on. He wasn't 'into pain' like some of the girls on the site he was perusing, but having a woman in control definitely excited him. 

Chris' thoughts turned to his ex-girlfriend. She was quite spirited in bed and when she was orgasming, she would frequently rake her nails across his back or slap his bare ass, urging him on with her actions. He would often explode inside her, unable to control himself, screaming and groaning as he pumped jets of cum deep within her. 

During his daydream, his hand had found his cock and he began jerking himself off. He set his laptop aside, still watching the movie on the screen. Between the cognac, porn and his vivid imagination, it didn't take him long to reach his climax. Soon he was spurting cum unceremoniously into his hand and onto his stomach. He didn't seem to care. In the afterglow he wiped up the mess with a dirty sock, threw it towards his laundry hamper and curled up under his blanket, falling asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

Extracurricular Activities Ch. 02



Chapter II

Chris awoke the next morning to the blaring sound of his alarm clock and hit it a couple times before it went silent. He had slept very well and felt well-rested but that did not change the fact that he still didn't want to get out of bed. Rolling over, he pulled his laptop off of his bedside table and onto his stomach. He lifted the lid and it came to life, showing him the same pictures from last night. He smiled wryly and closed the browser window. 

He checked his email and Facebook and commented on a couple wall posts, one of which was a new picture of his friend Leslie doing some modeling; her dreadlocks were dyed pink, her eyes looked smoky and she had a sultry pout. He made a mental note to check more of her photos out later, shut his laptop and started getting dressed. 

Rummaging through his dresser drawers he found a clean pair of jeans and a brown polo shirt. He donned them along with a brown belt in an attempt to keep his pants up on his thin waist. He grabbed a bite to eat, brushed his teeth, ran a comb through his bed head and headed to school. When Chris arrived, he parked his car and said 'hi' to a couple people he knew before heading into the building.

First period was History. He flopped down into his seat and took out his Biology book and did his homework for that class while waiting for the morning bell to sound. The class presentations on the Peloponnesian War seemed to drag on forever. It didn't help that each group of students gave almost the same information even though they all had different topics. Every PowerPoint was just as dry and clinical as the last. Finally the bell rang and the class was freed. 

Chris made his way down the hall towards English class, waving to a few more friends as they walked past. He took up his usual seat and pulled out his copy of The Jungle and perused the chapters to refresh his memory. Ms. Callahan came in with her red hair in a high ponytail, the hair flowing from beneath the band was curled loosely. She wore a black ruffled blouse and vintage leopard skirt that fit the widest part of her hips snugly before flaring out. On her wrists jingled her silver bracelets and her cat-eye glasses were perched on the tip of her nose.

She called the class to attention and handed out this week's quizzes. Chris took one from the top of the stack and passed the rest back. He scribbled his name across the top and quickly filled in the answers. He looked around to his classmates and they seemed to be struggling with recollecting the readings from the previous week. He sailed through and was the first to bring his quiz up to Ms. Callahan.

"Good Chris, first as usual," she whispered. He nodded with a bit of pride and took his seat once again. The rest of class went by quickly. When all the students turned in their quizzes, Ms. Callahan gave out a homework assignment. In preparation for the end of the semester and midterms, she wanted her students to practice their composition skills. 

"When The Jungle was published, it caused a ripple of change to go through the meatpacking industry. Safe and sanitary working conditions were put in place to protect workers and consumers. Many of today's food safety regulations are in place due to this book and other people who stood up for what they believed in," she explained. "I want you all to do some brainstorming and begin writing a five-page paper on a 'hot button' topic of your choosing. Make sure it is something you are passionate about, something in society that needs to be changed," she encouraged. As the bell rang, students packed up their books and she had to shout over the clamor, "I want to see some ideas written down, some sources to cite and the introduction to your paper written out. We'll meet one on one to discuss your topic." The class flooded out into the halls and most headed for lunch. "Chris, one minute please."

Chris pulled his bag onto his shoulder and waited for the rest of the class to file out before going to Ms. Callahan's desk, "Yes, Ms. Callahan?"

"I just wanted to remind you about our appointment on Monday. Don't worry about your assignment until we can meet up together. Just pick a topic that appeals to you and when we meet at my house I'll give you some tips and we can work on your introduction together," she said as she smiled softly.

"Thanks Ms. C," Chris smiled back, "I think I already have a topic in mind."

"Good!" she said excitedly, "Have a good weekend and I'll see you in class on Monday."

He jogged down to the cafeteria and grabbed a cheeseburger and fries from the serving line. The lunch room was packed but there was still an open seat at his usual table. His friend Leslie sat there munching on a piece of French bread pizza, her pink dreads framing her face, her dark-lined eyes catching his. She waved him over and scooted closer to her friend Scarlett to give him more room. He walked faster, a spring in his step, and sat next to her. She was chatting with her other girl friends about her plans for the weekend.

"Chris, you want to go out to the club with us tonight?" Leslie asked between bites.

"I have work, but maybe when I'm done," he said, trying to act nonchalant.

"Cool!" she said, placing a hand innocently on his thigh. Chris' heart fluttered. Leslie was the complete opposite of Chris; she was wild, he was reserved, she was the yin to his yang and helped him to come out of his shell. He had already had his mind set on getting his work done and trying to get out early tonight!

The rest of the day went by swiftly and soon he was on his way to work. Sarah was there already, her hands full with one of the dishwashers. She had him at a cutting board with a bag of potatoes and was giving him a demonstration.

"Cortalo aqui y aqui," she explained in Spanish as she cut the small potato into four pieces, "y pone los pedazos en la agua," she said, adding the potatoes to a bucket of cold water. "Cuando estas terminado, dime." She was always kinder and gentler when she was training people. She seemed to have unlimited patience. "Hola pato!" she greeted me as I came into her view. The dishwasher chuckled at the salutation and continued quartering the potatoes.

"Pato? What does pato mean?" Chris asked. He knew some kitchen Spanish, mainly enough to ask for more plates and for the garbage to be taken out, but he knew she was making fun of him, he just wasn't sure exactly to what ends.

"It's a term of endearment," Sarah replied, lying through her teeth. Chris shrugged it off and moved on, knowing she probably wasn't going to tell him so there was no use in worrying about it.

"What do you want me to do today, boss lady?"

"Well, I'm going to have you working the salad station again," she said, looking over a prep list she had made. "Hector is cutting potatoes for homefries and Mark is putting together the Wellingtons. Have you ever made the Pecan Pie?" she asked the apprentice.

"Yeah, Jose showed me," Chris responded.

"Good, I'm putting you in charge of making a dozen of them," she said in an unusually cheerful mood, "We need some for desserts for service and a couple more for the dessert buffet for brunch."

Chris nodded and pulled out a little spiral memo pad from his pocket and flipped through the pages until he found the recipe for the Cider Pecan Pie and set to making twelve of them. As he was gathering his mise en place he would observe Sarah making her rounds to the other stations. She was happy and smiling and helpful, even cut lemons for the waitstaff without protest, a chore she loathed. Normally she would tell the dining room captain, "Give them all knives and have them cut their own lemons! The ones stupid enough to cut themselves don't deserve to work here anyway! Survival of the fittest!" But today there was no protest. A sudden realization hit him and sly smile crept over his face.

"What are you smiling about?" Sarah asked, catching him staring at her as she came to check on him.

"You got some last night, didn't you?" he asked in a low tone, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face. Her face immediately flushed bright red and she punched him hard on the arm, causing him to wince in pain. "Ha! I knew it!" he retorted, her reaction confirming his suspicions. 

"Dude, don't get her pissed off," Mark shouted from across the kitchen, "She's being nice, why would you do anything to ruin that!" he jested.

"You all can go to hell!" Sarah said, narrowing her eyes and glaring at them all. 

They all quietly went back to work until Mark asked, "So, who's the lucky guy?"

"Or girl," Chris added in, which earned him another punch on the arm. He always suspected Sarah of being bisexual; the way she looked at the waitresses, how her hand lingered on the bartender's when they spoke, he just had no proof. Sarah was a very secretive and private person and didn't discuss her personal life like most of the men did. Some of the cooks speculated that was because she had no personal life, that she would just go home and park herself in front of the TV or computer with a bottle and drink until she passed out, which would take a while with her tolerance. Mark and Chris, on the other hand, thought she didn't talk about it because she had some deep dark secrets she wasn't comfortable sharing. Chris' mind flashed to the porn from last night and he pictured petite Sarah wearing leather, holding a cat-o-nine tails and his cock twitched in his pants. 

Her twenty-six-year-old body was curvy in all the right places, but her uniform did a good job of covering that up. On top of that she wore her hair up under a handkerchief and never wore make-up to work. He had seen her once at the mall out of her uniform. She was wearing a pair of low cut jeans that were perfectly molded to the swell of her ass, a spaghetti-strap top that showed off her ample cleavage.. She had let her wavy brunette hair down and it framed her face, her make-up done tastefully. She had banged quite a few of the other cooks, just not Chris. He has just turned eighteen last November, a mere four months ago. 'Maybe she just didn't want to go to jail for having sex with a minor,' he told himself. He knelt down to put the pies in the oven and gave himself an adjustment while he was down there. His mind pictured her riding up and down on his cock, a look of ecstasy on her pretty face and his dick got a bit harder. He tried to banish the thoughts of her by thinking about Mark, an over-weight mustachioed Italian man, in a speedo. It worked.

Dinner service went well. Sarah was in such a good mood, she didn't even start screaming at a waitress that dropped a baked potato on the ground. Chris rocked the salad station and Mark was sending out perfectly cooked steaks. When the chaos subsided and there were just a few tables left, Chris started wiping the counters and sent his dishes to the dishwasher.

"You itchin' to get out of her, G-Man?" Mark asked.

"I was hoping to," he responded, continuing to clean up.

"Got a hot date?" Sarah said, putting him on the spot instead.

"No, just going out to the club with some friends," he said, trying to play it of, "I just want to have some time to take a shower before I leave."

Sarah gave him a knowing look but didn't pester him about it any further. "Just wrap up your station and you can go," she said as she finished garnishing a slice of the pecan pie that Chris had made earlier in his shift. Chris smiled and covered all his pans in plastic and wiped down the bars that held them up in the refrigerator unit.

Chris turned towards Sarah to ask her if he could go and saw the towel come whizzing towards his backside. He had no time to react as the wet end snapped and lashed his left butt cheek. He let out a yelp and some muffled obscenities and glowered at the older woman. 

"That's what you get for not minding your own business," Sarah said plainly.

"Fuck Sarah! That's going to leave a mark!" Chris howled, rubbing the already raised welt on his backside.

"Tough it out, Newbie," she said with an evil smile. 

Chris grabbed his things and headed out. As he sat on his car seat, the sting from the makeshift whip sprang forth anew. "Shit that hurts!" he cursed to himself. The drive home was a short one and once parked, he jogged up to his room and grabbed a fluffy blue towel and headed to the bathroom. He turned the faucet on and cranked the handle to work the shower controls. Once the stream was running and beginning to warm up he disrobed and immediately spun around to check his rear. Bright red and stinging sat the tear-drop-shaped mark from the towel. He cursed softly under his breath and then climbed into the shower. 

The water was hot, but after a quick adjustment it was perfect. He ran his fingers through his hair and down his neck, working out some of the tension that had built up over the course of the week. Grabbing the shampoo bottle he dispensed some into his hair and worked up a lather with his finger tips. As he got clean he thought about what he would wear to the club. He decided to go classy and wear a black dress shirt and black slacks. Then his thoughts turned to what Leslie might be wearing. He shook his head and banished the thought or he'd be in the shower until the hot water ran out. He soaped up his body, paying special attention to his armpits and groin before rinsing and turning off the water. He wrapped his waist in the towel and stepped out onto the bathmat. He rummaged through the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tube of gel, squeezed a small amount into his hand and spread it evenly through his hair, pulling his short hair into little spikes. He took a look in the mirror and shook his head, messing up the style a bit before the gel set. Satisfied, he put on deodorant, cologne and brushed his teeth before heading back to his room.

Chris threw his dirty clothes into the hamper and hung his towel on the back of his bedroom door. He found a pair of clean boxers and searched for the clothes he wanted to wear. As he was pulling on his pants, his phone began to buzz. He searched for it only to realize that it was still in his chef pants pocket, now residing in the laundry hamper. Digging it out, he touched the screen and found he had a new text message:

From Leslie L.

U still coming out w/ us tonite? We'll be @ Sanctuary until close!

Sent at 10:34pm 

Chris sent a text back that read, "Yeah, I think I can make it out there," trying to play it as cool as he could but as soon as he hit send he tossed his phone onto the bed kicked it in high gear. He dressed in front of his full-length mirror; first a white t-shirt, then the black button down shirt buttoned to the top. He unbuttoned a few, then took both the black shirt and t-shirt off. Putting the dress shirt back on he left several buttons undone, showing his bare chest a bit. Belt, socks, shoes, silver watch, phone in front pocket, wallet in back pocket, caddy-cap on his head; one last look and he bolted out the door to his car.

He drove to Sanctuary and parked around back. It was still early and the line to get in was very short. Chris proffered his ID to the bouncer along with the ten dollar cover. Ladies night and the prices for guys went up, but he didn't mind. It ensured plenty of girls to watch dance. Once inside, his ears were assaulted with the loud, thumping music. Chris entered the club and made his way through the throngs of people towards the dance floor. Sanctuary was a large rectangular venue with bar on either ends of its short sides. The walls were painted candy apple red with black leather upholstered benches lining the longer walls. The dance floor was sunken by a few feet with two platforms surrounded by wrought iron railings with stripper poles in the middle of them. Every night had a particular musical theme. Wednesdays served up alternative music and remixes of Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails. Thursdays were Eighties Nights with The Cure, Depeche Mode, The Smiths, etcetera. Fridays were local DJ Nights; tonight offered a popular girl DJ who was spinning some modern Electronic tracks. Chris couldn't tell house from trance from electronica, but he liked the upbeat rhythms and pounding bass. It took him a second to adjust while he scanned the crowds for Leslie; it didn't take long to find her. 

On a platform stood Leslie and her friend Scarlett dancing together, grinding and gyrating to the music played by a nearby DJ. Her eyes caught his and his heart skipped a beat and he took a deep-breath, keeping his composure as he walked towards her. Leslie was wearing a skimpy red leather halter top that showed off her trim stomach and the elaborate swallow tattoos she had on her shoulders. Her butt was barely covered by a very short pair of black shorts that let the bottom of her ass cheeks peek out, her feet clad in red leather peep-toe pumps. Her pink dreads were held loosely on top of her head with a leopard-print headband, her makeup done in a 1940's pin-up fashion with dark eyeliner and ruby red lipstick. Leslie was letting the music take control and she shook her hips and hooked her leg around the pole. Holding it tightly with her thigh she dipped backwards and shimmied her shoulders back and forth, causing her pert breasts to shake as well. She turned and leaned her back against the pole, grasping it from behind over her head and used it to steady her as she dropped to the beat. Her sweat glistened off her body as Chris continued to watch her overtly sexual display.

Chris was practically rock hard and was thankful for the dark club and his dark clothes. He walked nonchalantly to the bar and ordered two bottles of water, downing half of one in only a few gulps. He leaned against the bar and continued watching Leslie dance. She took her friend Scarlett's hand and the two turned to dance closer together, soft bodies pressed together. Scarlett's fiery red hair was done up in victory rolls and she was wearing a vintage-inspired black polka-dot dress with a plunging neckline. You could tell the young girls were not wearing bras, their hard nipples poking through the fabric as they rubbed their chests together. The two, getting turned on by one another, began kissing playfully, grinding against each other. The whole club was entranced by the display on the platform and as the song ended, the patrons began applauding and whistling. The two took a bow and Leslie began scanning the club. Chris assumed it was him she was looking for. He raised his hand a bit to get her attention and she came sashaying through the crowd towards him.

"I got you some water," he shouted over the din, handing her the bottle. Leslie smiled and took it with a nod of appreciation, guzzling down half of her own bottle. "You looked great out there," he added. She blushed, mouthing 'Thanks' and sat close to him to avoid being bumped by the other club goers and caught her breath. Chris wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulder and she laid her head on his chest, feeling secure in his grasp. He could smell the mix of her sweat and perfume, like wild roses and all he wanted to do was bury his face in the crook of her neck to drink her scent in more. 

When a song came on that she liked she pulled Chris by the hand onto the dance floor. As she led the way through the crowd, he adjusted his pants in an attempt to hide his raging erection. They got to a clear spot in the center and she took his hands in hers and guided them to her hips. He held her there and steadied her as she began dancing dangerously close to him. Chris loosened up, which was a difficult for a man so shy, and his hands slid from her hips to the small of her back as she continued to gyrate to the beat of the music. Urged on, her hands traveled up and down his chest as she pressed her body close. Her eyes met his as her thigh grazed the bulge in his trousers. Chris flushed red and distanced himself from her a bit, embarrassed. Leslie smiled wryly and pulled him back, every curve of her body pressed intimately to his. He groaned softly, inaudible over the sound blaring from the speakers in the club. Her hand traced it's way down to his erection and she cupped it gently. 




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 02



Suddenly a look of shock came over her face and she looked down and back up to Chris' eyes, silently asking for confirmation. In a rare moment of bravado he gave her a knowing nod and it was her turn to blush. She looked incredulously at her hand still cupping his clothed member as her breath quickened. She narrowed her eyes at him and grabbed his hand roughly and dragged him from the dance floor to a quiet corner by the bathrooms. She tugged at the buttons on his trousers, needing to see for her own eyes. Chris was uncomfortable with such public displays and held her wrists to keep her from tearing his clothes off in the middle of the club. She gave him a pleading look and then motioned for them to go into the bathroom.

Chris nervously let her go into the ladies room first, following close behind when the 'all clear' was given. She dragged him to the second, larger stall and locked the door behind him. Her hands were trembling as she fidgeted with the belt around his waist and Chris pushed her back silently to give himself some room. With deft motions he released his belt and the top button of his trousers using only one hand. Leslie sat back in amazement and gasped as he lowered his zipper and all nine inches sprang out of their confinement. Soft hands grasped his hardness and he closed his eyes, letting her do what she desired. 

Leslie began tentatively stroking his manhood, mesmerized. He let out a soft moan and placed a hand against the stall wall to brace himself. Chris felt her wet tongue and his eyes snapped open, looking down and peering straight into her steel gray-blue eyes as she began to take him in her mouth. As she flicked her tongue over the tip he could feel the smooth metal of her tongue ring and he groaned deeply. He watched her as she tried to accommodate as much of his length in her mouth as she could. Leslie began bobbing up and down on his shaft, her hands jerking whatever wouldn't fit. Chris' breath quickened. He could feel himself approaching the precipice of orgasm from her lovely mouth. He pulled back and his dick came out from between her lips with an audible pop. She looked up at him with a hurt look on her face.

Chris took her by the arm and raised her up from her knees and planted a kiss on her red lips. She needed no encouragement to deepen the kiss and soon her tongue was dancing with his. He held her close, his hands on the swell of her ass. He broke the kiss, panting, "I want to eat you out," he growled in her ear before kissing down her slender neck, his hands wrenching open the button on her shorts. She cooed and wiggled out of her clothing to reveal a pair of lacy panties. Chris hooked his fingers in the waistband and lowered them to the ground as well. Leslie stepped out of them and leaned up against the wall, hooking her heel on a rail bolted to the concrete. 

Chris stepped back and admired her; chest heaving, bare pussy glistening with arousal, a look of lust on her face. He fell to his knees and probed her tight pussy with an eager tongue. She tasted as sweet as candy and he couldn't get enough. His tongue circled her clit before flicking it sharply. She bucked and groaned as he did that particular move repeatedly. His hands traveled up her legs to rest on her firm buttocks. He used his new position to pull her closer to him, sucking and flicking her delicate button. She began to ride him in earnest. Taking two fingers he dipped them into her wet hole and curled them upwards towards her g-spot as he proceeded with the ministrations on her clit.

Leslie squealed as Chris teased her ever closer to orgasm. She was enjoying the feeling of having him eat her wet pussy but she really wanted to feel him deep inside her. She imagined his hardness thrusting in and out of her tight pussy and her arousal hit its peak. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she rode his tongue to her climax and moaned loudly as waves of pleasure washed over her. Chris never stopped sucking on her button and lapping up the copious juices that flowed from her slit onto his fingers. He had enjoyed taking her to such heights. She slumped against the wall and Chris slid his fingers from inside her to give her more support as she basked in post-orgasmic after-glow. Leslie groaned in protest at the emptiness. 

"Chris, that was amazing," she panted. 

Chris smiled with self-satisfaction and began getting dressed, "You're welcome," he said coyly.

Leslie looked at him as he tried to tuck his raging hard-on back into his pants. "Where the fuck do you think you're going," she growled with a combination of anger and pure lust. 

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

"I want you to fuck me!" she replied.

"Right here?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Yes!" she cried out, freeing his trapped manhood once more. 

"Leslie, why don't we head back to my place or something?" he suggested, not comfortable fucking in such a public place.

Leslie narrowed her eyes at him, "You are going to fuck me right here," she said, grasping his cock firmly, "right now!"

There was something that told Chris not to argue with the hot, half-naked woman before him even if she wanted him to screw her in a public bathroom. She lowered the zipper on the front of her leather halter top and exposed her breasts to his wanton gaze. Her pale breasts weren't very large, but they fit the proportions of her body, small, perky and so delicious looking. Leslie seized the back of his head roughly and brought his hot mouth to her own nipple. He took it up and sucked and nibbled on the bud causing her to sigh. He kissed around her chest and replicated the sensations to her other nipple. Leslie unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor with her clothes and raked her nails across the now bare flesh of his back and Chris gasped. 

He continued to kiss and lick her erogenous zones until she took hold of his neck and looked into his eyes, "Chris, fuck me," she demanded as she turned around and braced herself against the wall, shaking her ass seductively. Her dominant side caused his cock to twitch. Chris came up close behind her and positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the tip in her wetness. She looked back at him over her shoulder as he slowly impaled the young woman on his nine-inch member. They both groaned at the tightness. Chris began the slow, steady rhythm of fucking her; he was on a hairpin trigger but wanted to make it last as long as possible. With his hands holding her hips he screwed her teasingly slowly. 

"That feels great!" Leslie purred.

He smiled and picked up the pace just a bit, reaching down and strumming her clit with his index finger. He was rewarded with a loud moan that told him he was doing a good job. He wanted to bring her to climax again before he hit his own. She was so turned on that it wasn't long before he felt her shuddering beneath him. As she let out a soft moan, her body became weak and Chris moved to hold her up. He pulled his dick out of her wetly and she protested at the sudden emptiness, but Chris needed a more advantageous position. Her spun the teen around and lifted her off the ground, resting her bottom on the railing bolted to the concrete. He looked down at her spread legs and then back up to her eyes as she panted softly in front of him.

Leslie felt him enter her again and wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the sensations. He started his slow strokes again, relishing the feeling of her pussy wrapped so snugly around his cock. Leslie wanted more. She gave him a sharp slap on the ass and got him right where Sarah had earlier. Reflexively he jerked his hips, burying himself in her fully, bottoming out inside her. She groaned in a mix of pleasure and pain, enjoying every minute of it. He took the hint and began fucking her in earnest. He increased his rhythm and began thrust deeply. Leslie raked her nails across his back and Chris planted rough kisses on her neck.

He felt himself reaching the crest of his orgasm quickly. He wanted to slow down, wanted to prolong the pleasure he was feeling, but as he tried, Leslie gave him another slap on his already sore ass. He growled at the smack and glowered softly at her.

"Fuck me, Chris!" she demanded.

Chris pressed his hard body to her soft one and gave her what she wanted. With quick deft strokes he fucked her. She threw her head back and shouted 'Yes!' with each deep penetration. Chris fondled her breasts roughly with his hands, the mounds fitting nicely in his large palms. Leslie struck his tender butt with her open hand and he gasped. Glaring he grabbed her arms harshly and pinned them above her head. Something in the mix of pleasure and pain caused him to snap. He took her roughly, concerned only with his own climax. As he held her, she was at his mercy. Seizing a nipple in his mouth he sucked on it sharply, causing her to moan loudly. He felt her pussy tighten on him and continued to pound her.

In the bathroom of a nightclub he was screwing a beautiful, exotic woman with tattoos and dreadlocks, pinning her against the wall. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this. Never could he have imagined their clothes strewn on the floor, her eyes closed in bliss, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pummeled her mercilessly. Never could he have imagined the sounds of pleasure that came from deep within her as he fucked her with wild abandon. He reached the point of no return. His final strokes came hard and fast and Leslie screamed 'Fuck!' with each one. 

"Cum inside me," she shouted

Chris needed no further encouragement. He grabbed her clit between his fingers and flicked it a few times, sending her over the edge one last time. Her pussy pulsed on his hardness. Letting out a guttural moan he climaxed, burying himself nine inches deep, filling her up with spurts his cum. He collapsed on her, holding her fast to the wall as they panted together, bodies glistening with sweat. He planted soft kisses on her neck and chest as they came down from their orgasmic high.

"Thank you," Leslie gasped, holding him close to her. Chris was speechless as he held her. He was expecting to wake up from this dream, in his bed, alone. He was expecting some great let-down, a let-down that never came. He smiled as he helped the young woman to her feet, picked up some clothes from the floor and handed her red leather halter top to her. She blushed softly and they both got dressed in silence. She unlocked the stall as Chris was just zipping up his pants and went to the mirror to check her make-up. Satisfied that is wasn't too messed up she turned, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "We'll have to do this again sometime."

He nodded and led her back out into the din of the dance floor. Leslie spotted her friend Scarlett and waved her over. The two parted ways for the night, Leslie giving him a slight squeeze on his arm and a sweet smile. Chris drove home shortly after, feeling tired from a long day of work and school and now a rigorous workout at the hands of a teenage vixen. As he collapsed in his bed, he could still smell the scent of wild roses. Slumber came quickly and he slept through the night with a smile on his face.



Extracurricular Activities Ch. 03



Chris stirred softly under his blankets. He peeked out from under them to look at his alarm clock:

'8:06'

He still had almost half an hour before he needed to get up and after a long night of restless slumber, he could use a bit more sleep. He wrapped his head back up to block out the early morning light and as he rolled over he discovered, rather painfully, that he had morning wood.

"You again," he complained to his own dick, "Didn't you get enough last night?" he said, laughing to himself. He thought about last night; the ecstasy on Leslie's face brought a smile to his own. He shimmied out of his pajama pants and boxers, still warm and cozy beneath the sheets and took his own half-hard member in his hands. Closing his eyes he relived the events still fresh in his mind; the curve of her body pressed to his, the smell of her perfume and arousal.

"Chris, get up!" came the cheery voice of his mother barging through the door unannounced. Chris' eyes flew open and he immediately tried to hide the tent he was pitching, bending his dick in the most uncomfortable way possible in the process. "There's fresh pancakes and sausage downstairs!" she added, oblivious to or ignoring his predicament. She left as suddenly as he had appeared and shut the door behind herself. Chris grumbled, snapped from his reverie, and got out of bed. He grabbed his towel and went to the bathroom, still sporting his erection.

Locking the door behind him, Chris cranked the shower on and didn't bother waiting for the water to warm up before stripping down and hopping in. The cold water shocked his body and helped to cool down his libido. The shower soon turned warm and Chris washed away the smell of sex from his body. Chris hadn't had sex in almost seven months. His first girlfriend, Nikki, was a prude. He had been going out with her for over a year before she gave it up. When the two finally did have sex, she would just lay there, no positions other than missionary.

By contrast his second girlfriend, Sadie, was a nymphomaniac. She wanted to fuck constantly. She would come over to his house while he was sleeping, climb up the tree outside his window and tap on the glass until she was let in where she would quickly pounce on him and ride him until she was satisfied. She loved giving blow-jobs, especially road head. She would suck him off anywhere and swallow all of his cum like a champ. He loved how adventurous she was. He never had to initiate any of their sexual rendezvous and she loved being on top and in control. She would demand that he fuck her and when he 'refused' she'd spank him playfully until he gave in. It wasn't the pain that got him horny but the beautiful women controlling his every move.

He could have spent many gratifying years in her company had her parents not moved. 'The life of an Army brat,' she used to say. She had gone to three different elementary schools, three different middle schools and she was on high school number two when she was in school with Chris.

Chris pulled himself out of reminiscing about 'Sadistic Sadie' as he affectionately called her and finished his shower. He threw on a clean pair of boxers, black chef pants and a white t-shirt and then ran downstairs to grab some pancakes before they got too cold. He served himself a couple and drowned them in syrup before eating them in only three bites. He thanked his mom and headed off to work in a hurry. He felt a bit run-down from last night's escapades and was kind of miffed that he had to come in so early, but Sarah needed help with a carving station for a wedding.

He parked his car and went into the kitchen where everyone was running around; cooking some items and putting the final touches on others. Sarah was barking orders to a busboy who looked like her was on the verge of tears. The kid was fairly new here and had already done quite a few things to get on her shit list. Today she was especially stressed. Sarah hated weddings. She hated the stupid food requests like vegan meals. She hated having to make room in her walk-in refrigerator for cakes and flowers. She hated the bridezillas who would often come in the kitchen to bitch about the tiniest details to which she had to plaster a fake smile on her face and apologize for things she didn't do. She relished in the fact that the divorce rate was so high in this country and that those bitches would probably be alone in five years.

"You look tired, Newbie," Sarah said when she noticed Chris walking through the kitchen on the way to the time clock. He didn't think he looked that bad so he shrugged it off. "Here take a sip of this," she said, handing him a cup of fizzy yellow liquid.

He took a whiff of it and smelled the distinctive citrus odor of Red Bull. "No thanks, that stuff always gives me the jitters," Chris replied, handing it back.

"I can't drink it straight either so I watered it down," she said, pushing it back towards him, he shrugged and took three big gulps before he caught the aftertaste.

"You watered it down with vodka?!" he asked incredulously.

"It's mama's happy juice," she beamed, "It's the only thing keeping me sane. The Red Bull perks me up and allows me to deal with this bullshit and the Kettle One makes sure I don't get too perky!"

Chris shook his head and handed her drink back. "So am I doing the carving station?" he asked as he put his chef coat and apron on.

"Yeah. Jose's still out until tomorrow and Mark's not coming in until three," she said, going over her prep list attached to a clipboard. "The reception brunch starts in thirty minutes. Can you just go out and make sure all the chafing dishes are hot and that the tables look nicely garnished? I told that Trevor kid to do it but I'm not so sure he could find his ass with two hands."

Chris nodded and did as he was told. When he arrived in the dining room and to check everything Trevor, the busboy she berated earlier, was buzzing around nervously, trying not to screw things up. Chris went over to him and patted him on the back which caused him to almost jump out of his skin. "Hey dude, looks good out here," Chris said trying to reassure the kid.

"I just don't want to piss Chef Sarah off," he responded, "I heard that she once lit a dude on fire for asking her a dumb question!" the young kid said, genuinely scared.

"Well it was one of the cooks and his question was 'Do you think we could light this Purell on fire?' as he held a pile of it in his hand. So she took a stick lighter and lit his hand on fire." Trevor looked at Chris horrified. "Look, we cooks do some stupid shit for laughs. The gel caught fire, but he put it out before it even got hot. She's not this scary lady," he continued as he straightened the corners of the table skirt, "She's just a hard ass who likes things done a certain way and that's because her way usually is the best way."

Trevor nodded, "Is it true she once put a cobra in someone's car for fucking up an order?" he queried.

"It wasn't a cobra, it was her pet boa constrictor and it wasn't as some sort of punishment, she was just messing with a waiter who said he was afraid of snakes. The thing was still in its glass aquarium!"

"Why do people spread rumors about her being so bad-ass?" Trevor asked.

"I think Sarah starts a lot of the rumors, the rest are just exaggerations of things that really happened," Chris surmised. "Your best bet is to just do your job to the best of your abilities, stay out of the kitchen unless you need to be there and think before you act. It took me working here for three months before Sarah started treating me like I was worth a damn. And I work side by side with her every day," Chris said bluntly, "She still gets on me but I've learned not to take it personally."

Trevor nodded, visibly calmer now. Chris smoothed out some of the linens and arranged the table garnishes to give them height and visual appeal. He gave Trevor a thumbs up and headed back to the kitchen. The spiked Red Bull was giving him a bit of pep without the jitters, mental clarity without nervousness.

Chris helped to put the food in the chafing dishes and set up his carving station with a large bone-in ham. The brunch started off at a good pace; people came in, mingled, went through the line. He wasn't inundated with guests but he also wasn't standing around. He smirked as a couple of bridesmaids dressed in hideous pink ruffles were attempting to dance in their ill-fitting dresses.

"I think those bitches put their friends in ugly dresses on purpose," came Sarah's voice from right over his shoulder. He hadn't heard her come over so it startled him a bit. "That Trevor kid did a nice job in here," she remarked, "Seems he finally pulled his head out of his ass."

"Hey Sarah, can you take over for a sec? I have to pee!" Chris whispered to his boss.

"And what if I don't let you go," she said, an evil glimmer in her eyes.

"Then you're going to have to do some apologizing to Princess Bridezilla and her guido father," he said rather smugly.

"Go on, get out of here," she said, jabbing him playfully in the ribs. She really didn't want to have to explain why her employee peed on the floor. Chris took off his apron, tucked it under the table and made his way towards the nearest bathroom, passing wedding guests walking with plates of food and chatting. Entering the restroom, he pulled up to one of the urinals, dropped his fly and relieved himself. In one of the stalls behind him he distinctly heard the sounds of clothes being taken off and two people kissing one another. A quick peek behind confirmed a gentleman with his pants around his ankles and a pair of women's shoes, the same horrid pink color as the wedding party. He finished up, washed his hands and returned to the dining room.

"Sarah, there are two people screwing in the men's room," Chris whispered.

A sly smile crept over her face and she pulled out her walkie-talkie, "Kitchen to Security."

"Security go ahead," came the crackly voice through the speaker.

"Code 'F' in the men's room off the ballroom," she replied.

"Ten-Four."

Less than a minute later, Scott from security dressed in a nice suit with an earpiece dangling from his right ear came into the ballroom, gave Sarah a nod and went in to the bathroom. Shortly after he entered, a gentleman came out of the bathroom, tucking in his shirt and pulling up his fly, followed very soon by a woman who's face was redder than her dress.

"You're evil," Chris said to his boss, knowing full well what she was going to do when he told her about the couple.

"Look, this is a hotel, not a brothel," she said frankly. "And if you were really concerned about their embarrassment you wouldn't have told me!"

Chris conceded, "You're right. I love it too!" Chris and Sarah both had the same sick sense of humor. They loved watching people squirm, Sarah just tended to take it so much further than Chris ever would. The rest of the afternoon went well. Chris helped break down the tables and bring in the food from the buffet, then he helped Sarah prep for a busy dinner shift.

"We've got a total of one hundred-fifty reservations on the books, but that doesn't count walk-ins," Sarah said, giving her staff a quick pep talk. "I'm going to be expediting, Mark is on grill, Johnny's doing sauté, and Chris is on salads and desserts. Chris, if you need help, shout and I can go down."

"Yeah, that's what she said! Am I right, guys?" Johnny chimed in. Johnny was leaning against the wall, resting his tall, muscular frame against the shiny steel. His mother was of middle-eastern descent, giving him olive-toned skin, dark hair and exotic features but he was born and raised in America. He was a funny but crude man. He told the dirtiest jokes, especially about women, Jews and dead babies. He was always good for a laugh, and a helping hand. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you asked.

"Welcome back from vacation. We missed you!" Sarah said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. Rumor has it that Johnny and Sarah used to date, or at least hook up regularly. Chris wasn't sure what she saw in him, with all of his degrading comments about 'broads.' "Chris, don't let me see you get in the weeds without asking for help," she added.

Chris nodded and made sure his station was ready, checking off his mental list, 'Hazelnut dressing, check; blood orange vinaigrette, full bottle; lettuce, cut and ready to go; spiced pecans, check.'

The ticket machine started printing out orders right at five-thirty. Sarah would pull the ticket, give one copy to Mark, keep the carbon copy for herself and shout out the order. When the ticket had been read aloud, everyone who had something to do for that order would shout back a chorus of 'Yes Chef!' and proceed making the requested dishes.

"Fours covers, order in: Chris, one House Salad, one arugula, one duck and Johnny, one crab cake," Sarah read off the ticket.

"Yes Chef." The apprentice and veteran chef responded in unison. Chris dressed the salads and put them in the serving window. Johnny put the order of crab cakes and the duck confit in the oven to warm them.

"Deuce." Sarah called out, using the slang for a table for two, "Order in, one arugula, that's two all day Chris and Johnny another crab cake."

"Yes Chef," Johnny put another order of crab cakes in the oven, fishing out the previous occupants, putting both the duck and the crab cakes under to broiler to crisp them up. Chris dressed another peppery arugula salad and topped the greens with crisp pears and roasted red onions. Johnny plated the first order of crab cakes, placing them on a puddle of red pepper beurre blanc sauce,garnishing them with a zigzag of bright green basil coulis.

"Order up," Sarah said, summoning a food runner. She loaded up his tray, "Table twenty-seven," and the young man was off to deliver the food.

The dinner rush had begun and food was leaving the kitchen quickly. "Good job guys, keep it going strong!" Sarah said, motivating her staff. Each one of them kept up and put out good food for the next hour. There was a small lull in service; the guests were enjoying their entrées, empty tables were waiting to be cleared.

As one of the bar-backs passed her, she snagged him by the shirt sleeve, "Mira Martín, dame cuatro Red Bull por favor," she asked the guy in Spanish. He promptly came back with the four Red Bull cans and she gave him a quick 'Gracias' before doling them out to her staff. "Chris, you want one? she asked the young apprentice. He shrugged and took a can from her, popped the top and took a gulp before stashing the rest in his salad cooler. Sarah poured hers into her reusable plastic cup, took a quick look around and reached into the bottom pocket of her black cargo pants. Smiling, she pulled out a large silver flask and poured a good measure into the cup along with the bubbly yellow Red Bull.

"Shit Sarah!" Johnny exclaimed to which he was quickly shushed. "Pass it down!" he said in a softer tone.

Sarah reluctantly let him have her flask. He poured a couple ounces into his cup and took a swig from the threaded metal mouth of the flask before offering to pass it down the line. Everyone else declined and he took another sip before screwing the cap back on and giving it back.

"Damn Sarah, that tastes great!" Johnny continued as he worked on a few orders of food.

"That's what you said about my pussy," she retorted, her first public acknowledgement of the rumors of their sexual relationship.

Johnny nearly choked and turned bright red as he was taking another sip of his drink.

"Sarah, really?" Johnny asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "And who's dumb ass roommate couldn't keep his mouth shut?" she growled.

"Dude, not my fault Charlie's no good at keeping secrets!" he added, hoping she would just drop it. Thankfully another ticket came in to break up the stand-off

"Ten top, thanks for the warning," she shouted as she read the top of the ticket, "Order in, two house salads, two crab cakes, three duck salads, one arugula, one squid, one risotto."

"Yes Chef," came the chorus as everyone scurried around to make this order.

The rest of the night went well. The last ticket for the night went out, a slice of Cider Pecan Pie. Chris was cleaning up his station and looked around for Sarah but couldn't find her. He peeked his head into the walk-in, checked the office and the dish area with no luck. Chris walked down the hall towards the dry-storage area. Before he rounded the corner to enter the room he heard Sarah's voice. She sounded angry so he turned to walk away, not wanting to bother her.

"You think you're funny don't you Johnny?" he heard her ask gruffly.

"No ma'am," Johnny replied, sounding very meek. Chris' curiosity was piqued. He turned back and hid just inside the doorway, invisible due to the boxes and cans on the shelf. When he looked toward his boss he saw her pint-sized body pressed close to Johnny's tall frame. Her back was to him and he could see Johnny's hands were clutching at the rack behind him, eyes closed and his head tilted back. Trying to figure out what was going on, Chris finally took notice of Sarah's hand clutching Johnny's crotch

"You can have all your little jokes on the line, but remember that these..." she said, emphasizing that last word by giving his privates a harsh squeeze, "...belong to me!"

Johnny moaned loudly, "Yes Sarah, I'm sorry."

"What did you call me?" she asked harshly, constricting her hand on his genitals again.

"I meant 'Mistress', I'm sorry!" Johnny groaned, correcting himself. Chris couldn't tell if he was in pain or if he was loving it.

"You love this don't you, you slut!" she asked, a tone of revulsion in her voice. All Johnny could do was whimper and nod. "Say it!"

"I love it when you discipline me!" he uttered. Sarah, satisfied with Johnny's response grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of his head and pulled him down and gave him a fierce, soul-stealing kiss. Her hand turned from squeezing the front of his pants to caressing and Johnny's whole demeanor softened. He wrapped his arms around her lovingly and held her close as they kissed.

Sarah broke the kiss, "Let's get back to the kitchen before someone notices we're gone," she said.

Chris took that as his cue to sprint down the hall to avoid being found out. He ducked into the employee bathroom and locked the door to hide out and catch his breath for a second. 'I have to tell Mark that our suspicions were true,' he thought to himself. After further consideration he came to the conclusion that was a horrible idea. 'She was torturing Johnny for his roommate ratting the two of them out. I don't want to be on the receiving end of that torment,' he supposed but his dick told his true feelings. He was half-hard thinking about that petite woman controlling him.

Chris tucked his dick into the waist band of his underwear to hide his erection and headed back to the kitchen. He saw Sarah and Johnny cleaning up as if they hadn't just made out in the dry storage area. Trying to walk as casually as possible with a hard-on he approached her and asked if he could leave. She nodded and thanked him and told him he had done well. He beamed with pride as he walked to his car and drove home.

Sitting in his own driveway he texted Leslie, 'Hey, what r u up to tonite? Want to go see a movie or something?' He pressed 'Send' and headed inside to await her response. He stripped out of his dirty clothes and threw them in the laundry basket. Flopping down onto his bed he pulled his laptop up and checked his email and Facebook. He saw a post from Leslie that read, "Out having girl's night with Scarlett!" He grumbled and resigned himself to an early night. Walking out into the hall in his boxers he headed to the kitchen to grab himself a box of cereal, a spoon and a full bowl milk and made the journey back to his room. He flicked on his TV and tuned to No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain and munched away as Anthony trekked through Thailand, shopping at an outdoor market and eating at various food stalls. After he finished his cereal he folded down the bag and closed the flaps on the box. Chris drank the milk from the bowl and placed both on his night stand. He turned off his light and cocooned himself in his blankets. Closing his eyes he began to drift off to sleep.




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 03



BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Chris rolled over to grab his cell phone. With a swipe of his finger across the screen it came alive. He clicked the 'Messaging' icon and was greeted with a text back from Leslie.

From Leslie L.

Hey, Chris! Sorry, I was out with Scarlett. I'm kinda beat, but maybe we can hang out tomorrow

Sent at 11:44pm

Chris was saddened by the news that he wouldn't be seeing the woman who ran around in his daydreams all day. 'No problem,' he typed back, 'I have off all day tomorrow so I'm free if you are.'

From Leslie L.

Sweet! I'll text you when I get up tomorrow!

Sent at 11:45pm

Chris sent one more text wishing her a good night and then turned over to go to sleep once more.

The next morning Chris awoke shortly after ten in the morning. He looked at his phone, no messages yet. He was hungry but didn't feel like getting out of bed. Suddenly he remembered the box of cereal on his night stand. He popped open the flaps and unrolled the bag, dipping his hand in and pulling out handful of cereal, filling his mouth with the crunchy bits. He barely heard the sound of the knock on his door over the noise the cereal was making in his own head.

"Mom, I'm all set for breakfast," he said to the closed door, mouth full of cereal.

"I hope you don't do the same things with your mom as you did with me," a feminine voice came from the door. Cracking it open, Leslie popped her head in and smiled. "Good, you're decent. Your mom said that you had slept long enough and that I could come wake you up."

Chris tried to chew faster so he could swallow without choking. "Hey Leslie," he finally stammered, "What are you doing here?"

"I've been up for a while and decided to come over here to bug you. Your mom made awesome waffles! I ate your share," Leslie said. She was dressed in a black tank top with her blue bra straps peeking out from under it and a simple pair of jeans and tennis shoes but Chris still thought she looked amazing.

Chris wasn't sure the proper protocol for his current situation. He looked around his room for some clothes. He was only wearing boxers under his blankets and felt a bit vulnerable. As he moved to get out of bed to grab some pants, Leslie came over and curled up on the bed with him. His head was suddenly filled with the scent of roses and visions from the other night. Chris closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around Leslie's torso. Her body seemed to fit so nicely within his own. He sighed and she snuggled in closer.

"Leslie, I haven't showered or brushed my teeth yet."

"I don't care," the young woman responded, turning to face him under the blankets. "My breath smells like waffles and maple syrup!"

All Chris could think about was kissing her soft skin, feeling her lips on his, tasting her sweet pussy but he lacked the balls to act on his desires. Instead he tried to change the subject, "What do you want to do today?"

"Maybe we can go out, hang out just the two of us."

"Sure," he said, still holding her close.

"Well get dressed!" Leslie said, poking him in the ribs. Chris groaned and rolled over away from her, covering his head with his blankets. Leslie huffed and then got a stroke of inspiration and proceeded to tickle Chris on his sides. He let out a shout and jerked to get away from her. "Get dressed or I'll continue!"

Chris heeded her warning and pulled himself out of bed. He searched for some clothes to wear and settled on a fairly clean blue polo shirt with a pair of khakis. He slipped them on and did a spin for Leslie; she approved of his choice. "So where do you want to go?"

"It's supposed to be nice out, want to head to the park?" she suggested.

"Sounds good. Mind if I bring my new camera?"

"Only if you let me be your model," she said, smiling.

The duo went downstairs and Chris threw together a couple sandwiches and put them in an insulated bag. They set out for the afternoon in Chris' car. He drove to a secluded spot and parked on the side of the road. Chris led Leslie through the brush to a clearing with a meadow and a stream meandering through it. Leslie couldn't help running through the field of wild flowers and Chris took the opportunity to snap a couple photos. She threw off her shoes and ran barefoot through the stream. Chris liked the smile on her face, the look of pure joy as she communed with Nature. He took a few more candid shots of her and then looked over the pictures on the screen. She looked gorgeous but Leslie was so photogenic, she could make a scene in a trash dump look great!

Leslie came up to him and looked at the photos over his shoulder, nodding in approval. Chris saw a few pretty flowers and bent down to photograph them. Leslie flopped down amongst the blooms and closed her eyes in relaxation. The digital shutter captured the look of serenity on her pretty face. She unfastened the ribbon that held her dreadlocks tied behind her head and fanned them out. Chris took a few more photos, her pink hair nestled in the purple flowers and green leaves. She rolled over onto her stomach and took off her shirt, her blue bra contrasting against her pale skin made for a great shot. She unfastened her bra and threw it into the meadow. Chris was now continuously taking snapshots as she laid there; the view of her soft breasts from the side, fuzzy pictures of her torso in the foreground with sharp contrasting flora in the background.

Leslie sat on her knees facing away and slipped her jeans off her ass. Her thong was the same shade of cerulean as her bra. He got a nice picture of her nearly naked silhouette. She crawled towards the stream and he got a shot of her on all fours. Chris captured an image of her face and bare bust in the reflection of the nearly still stream. She turned towards him, kneeling in the grass, her curvy rear resting on the soles of her feet. Chris took several more pictures as she gazed downward and to the side at a cluster of flowers. Her perfect, round breasts sat proudly atop her chest, upturned nipples hard and pointing skyward. He wanted so badly to suckle them, to lay her down in this field and make love to her.

She slid onto her bottom and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties. Chris got a few more rapid-fire shots as she slid her thong down her legs. She held her panties up coyly by the string of the waistband and he snapped it with his camera. Laying down, legs crossed, bare pussy scantily peeking out above her creamy thighs, arms above her head; Chris was rock hard as he sat in the grass taking photos of Leslie posing for him. She crawled towards him as he continued to take pictures, capturing the feral look on her face. She grabbed the camera gently and turned it off, placing it in a pile with the rest of her clothes. She got on top of him, her naked body straddling his fully-clothed one. She wrestled with his shirt, pulling it off over his head and adding it to the heap.

Chris grappled with his belt, distracted by the beautiful woman on top of him. He pulled it off eagerly and wriggled out of his pants, his long cock pitching a tent in his boxers. Leslie giggled softly and ground her wet pussy against his still trapped member. He groaned and bucked as he practically ripped off his own underwear. Leslie helped him out and grabbed his rod, sliding the tip up and down her soaking wet slit. He groaned at her soft touches, anxious to slide himself into her wetness. Positioning him at her entrance, she relaxed and impaled herself on him. He filled her tight pussy and she moaned as he bottomed-out inside her. Using strong leg muscles she rode him, controlled him. She relished the feeling of fullness deep inside her as she rubbed their pelvises together. As she came down, Chris would arch his hips to meet hers.

Chris put hands on Leslie's hips and helped her to synchronize their rhythms and soon he was drilling deep inside her. She was moaning loudly in the empty field, riding her partner to her first orgasm. Chris doubled his pace as her pussy throbbed on his dick. Using two fingers he rubbed her hard wet clit. It wasn't long before she was panting and writhing on top of him once more, reaching her second climax. He tried to hold off but the look of pleasure as she rode him was more than he could bear. He held her down on his rod and grunted as he came inside her.

Leslie collapsed on top of him and they laid there panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Chris wrapped a strong arm around her and stroked her hair with his free hand.

"You're gonna wear me out," he jested.

Leslie smiled, "I'm pretty tired myself," she joked.

The two got dressed and laid together in the field until sundown. He dropped her off at her house and before she left she gave him a peck on the cheek. Chris went home and slept until Monday morning, worn out by a heathen goddess.



Extracurricular Activities Ch. 04



Monday morning came and classes went by fast. It wasn't long until he was in Ms. Callahan's class where she was going over composition ideas with each student individually, giving the class a free period. As the bell rang, she told Chris to stay behind. 

"I didn't forget about our appointment," he said, showing his palm with the words 'Ms. C @ 3' scrawled across it in black ink. 

"Thank you Mr. Gaiten, I was just confirming," she said, smiling sweetly. "Do you know what your topic is going to be?" she queried.

"Internet censorship. It has been a passion of mine for a while."Ms. Callahan nodded and dismissed her student, both heading their separate ways to eat lunch. 

Chris went to the cafeteria, raring to see Leslie. She sat at their usual seat with their usual friends. He got giddy with excitement and jogged over to sit by her side. She expressed her pleasure at seeing him again, resting her hand on his thigh, her head on his shoulder. He never even got anything to eat but he didn't feel hungry. She fulfilled him in a different way. The bell came too soon. Chris didn't have any classes with her this year so lunch was their only time together, but deep down he was grateful. Having to concentrate on school work and this siren would have been impossible. Chris walked Leslie to her next class, hand-in-hand.

"Wanna hang out after school today?" she asked him nervously. 

"I'd love to but I have tutoring for English Comp.," he explained. 

She nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. They parted ways and Chris rushed to P.E. making it to the locker room right before the bell. He changed into his gym clothes, school colors of black and gold, and awaited instructions. His teacher, an over-weight and balding man told them that they could split into groups; one for weight training, one for soccer and one for walking around the track. Chris wasn't into lifting weights and didn't have the hand-eye coordination for soccer so he decided to enjoy the fresh air on the track. Besides, most of the girls in his class would be walking and chatting and he'd get to admire them.

They walked from the main building and one of the other P.E. teachers, Mrs. Whitaker, was out there, a butch-looking woman in a gold-colored t-shirt and black shorts with a whistle around her neck. She blew it and encouraged the class to 'get moving!' Chris started at a decent pace, jogging around the quarter-mile track in only a few minutes. Running gave him a chance to clear his head. A chance to think things out. He was distracted by lovely Leslie running through his head.

"Good job Chris," Mrs. Whitaker said as he passed her for the fourth time in around ten minutes. He didn't notice, he just thought about the past week, how things had changed so much, got so much more exciting. He jogged past the other girls on the track and looked them over. Most of the guys in his class would have given their right nut for a chance with them, but they weren't exciting enough for him. Each girl seemed to have the same clothes, same hair, same plain beauty. What he wanted was a tattooed, pierced wild woman. A woman who knew what she wanted. A woman who knew she was sexy and needed no man to confirm it.

The whistle was blown three times in quick succession, breaking Chris from his reverie. "Let's head in!" Mrs. Whitaker shouted. He was already on the other side of the track and instead of jogging through the football field like everyone else he finished his lap strong, running to the end. "Good form, Gaiten!" his teacher complimented. "You ever thought about trying out for track? We could use someone with long legs for Cross-Country."

If Chris hadn't known better he would have guessed she was flirting with him but he had met the other Mrs. Whitaker, a sexy blonde bombshell, the two happily married for years now. He headed inside and changed out of his sweaty clothes. Grabbing some deodorant from his locker he slathered it on his underarms, banishing the smell of body odor. P.E. was his last class for the day and since he had gotten dressed early, he was able to leave early. He walked briskly down the hall to Leslie's art class and waited for her to emerge when the bell rang. 

"Hi Chris!" she said, clutching her portfolio, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. He took both for her and walked her to her locker. They chatted for a few more minutes and he walked her to her bus. She gave him a peck on the cheek and they parted ways. When Chris got to his Toyota he pulled out his phone and started his navigation app. He imported Ms. Callahan's information from his contacts into the program and it sprang into action, pulling up turn-by-turn directions to her house. He jumped into his car, eager to get this tutoring session done so that he might be able to see Leslie again tonight.

As he turned the key in the ignition, the car sputtered and refused to start. "Come on Terly," he said, using the nickname he had given his Tercel. Seemingly responding to his pleas the car roared to life and he pulled out of the lot. Following the directions he drove uptown. The further he drove, the bigger the houses got. 

"You have reached your destination," the feminine voice on his GPS told him. Before him was a brick wall punctuate by a wrought iron double gate with an ornate 'C' scrolled on it. He noticed an intercom and rolled down his windows, pressing the button tentatively. "Yes?" a voice came from the machine.

"Hi, it's me, Chris," he said nervously.

"Oh hey, let me open the gate for you!" came a voice now recognizable as Ms. Callahan's. The intercom buzzed and the gates rolled open smoothly. Chris put his car in drive and wound his way up her driveway. Her house came into view and it was very impressive. The driveway led right up to the front porch and then continued on, circling back on itself. The wrap-around porch was painted bright white, contrasting with the brick facade. The building wasn't very tall, maybe two stories with an attic space up top but it claimed a large footprint, covering a good chunk of the wooded property. As he parked his car, Ms. Callahan came out, glass of lemonade in hand. The cable installer's van was already there, "Waltham Cable and Security" it read in blue lettering on white paint.

"Hey Chris! Welcome to Callahan Manor," she smiled, gesturing to the palatial house behind her. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable!" Chris was dumbstruck as she led him into her house. "Here's the sitting room," she said, gesturing to a room stuffed with old books and over-upholstered furniture. "And here's the kitchen. Can I get you anything to eat?" Gleaming stainless steel and polished marble greeted him, high-quality appliances lining the walls. He shook his head and she continued the tour. "Here's my study," she explained, opening a door to another room with more old books and soft furnishings. "If you need to use the bathroom at any point it's the second door on the left." 

Chris was flabbergasted. 'How could a woman on a teacher's salary afford this place?' he asked himself. 

As if reading his mind, "My family is 'old money'" she said. "When my father passed, he left this place to me. I grew up here but moved out to California for school. I only came back to the East Coast to take care of this place."

He nodded and relaxed slightly, finally taking notice of his teacher. She was out of her work clothes, wearing something much more casual, a floral-print sun dress that hugged her every soft curve like it was painted on. Her hair was down, red locks resting on her shoulders. Her breasts were constraining against the dress, spilling out of it slightly. His cock hardened a bit in his pants. Her green eyes met his and he blushed. 

"So let's get started here," she said cheerfully. The next few hours were filled with work on Chris' paper on internet censorship. While he worked she would pop out to check on the cable guy and usually come back with snacks or more lemonade. The cable guy came into her office and said that he was all done and wanted to give her a run-down of the new system. She excused herself for a couple minutes and afterwards she saw the white van pull away. They wrapped up the tutoring session for the day and Chris packed up his belongings, stowing them in his backpack. 

"Excuse me, Ms. Callahan, I need to used the restroom," he said, his bladder full of sweet lemonade. She nodded and waved him off, grading his peers' work. Chris walked down the hall and counted the doors... 'One, two, on the right." Turning the knob he was greeted by a dark room. He fumbled for the light switch and flicked it upward, bathing the room in bright fluorescent light. He looked around in shock. A St. Andrew's Cross, an 'X' made of wood with restraints built in leaned against the far left side of the wall followed by a cage on the floor for a dog. Chains and ropes suspended from the ceiling. Implements of devious punishment secured to the walls with pegs and hooks. A metal spanking bench, barely padded with manacles built in. In the center was a red velvet-upholstered throne with gold detailing. Chris was floored. He had seen some of the same equipment on the website he frequented. His mind flashed with an image of him being tied up and 'taken advantage' of by his sexy teacher. 

"You don't know your rights and lefts do you?" a sinister voice came from behind him, startling him. 

"I...I just had...had to pee," he stammered. He turned and saw Ms. Callahan standing behind him, blocking his path of egress from this dungeon.

"Well, now you know my secret."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Callahan, I won't tell anyone I swear!" he said, pleading with her.

"I know you won't, but let me just show you something here," she said, stepping closer to him. He backed away. The door closed behind her and she grabbed him roughly by the arm, leading him to the 'X' on the wall.

"'X' marks the spot" she said, a cruel smile on her face. She guided his hand to the first restraint. He was too stunned to fight back, to try to get away. His mind was screaming but his body betrayed him, giving in to this woman, unsure the outcome. She fastened the leather around his left wrist, then his right. Kicking his legs apart, she attached them to the base of the cross. Chris struggled to free himself from the leather holding him to the cross to no avail. He was her captive. "I saw the way you looked at me. You've been a bad boy!" she said, crossing the floor quickly, grabbing a few pieces from the wall of torture devices. As she came back he noticed the riding crop in one hand and a leather flogger in the other. He groaned audibly. "You've gotten yourself into a bit of trouble here," she said, warming up, swishing the flogger through the air in a figure-eight. "I want to make sure you are not going to go tell all your friends at school how kinky Ms. Callahan is."

As she finished her sentence, the riding crop came whizzing through the air and landed sharply on his back. He arched to avoid the blow. It stung but would have hurt more had he not been fully clothed. She lashed him continuously with the leather flogger, causing his back to heat up. She wielded both tools simultaneously, the flogger in her left hand, the crop in her right hand, her dominant hand. Without missing a beat she would strike him with the riding crop, criss-crossing his back. He whimpered and groaned as feelings of pain and pleasure coalesced in his mind. With one last hard crack, the crop connected to his sensitized flesh.

She came up to his face, using the tip of the crop to guide his eyes to meet hers. Her normally leaf-green eyes sparkled with energy. His back was stinging and sore, his mind trying to find some semblance of order among the chaos before him, his libido in control of his lower half. "Now, do you understand?" He nodded. "Are you going to keep quiet or do I need to continue?" Ms. Callahan asked. Chris lowered his eyes and shook his head 'no.' "Good, now let's get you down from there," she said as she pulled the quick-release levers from the restraints. As he was freed, he rubbed his wrists reflexively. Ms. Callahan looked down at the bulge in his pants and smiled. "You liked that, slut!" she mocked. He blushed crimson. "Get out of my house!" she commanded with a sadistic laugh. He jogged down the hall and grabbed his backpack and left. Key in the ignition, his car came to life on the first try and he sped out of the driveway.

Chris sped off, his mind racing, his pulse rushing, his cock throbbing. His teacher had just dominated him, punished him. Chris came to a gas station and pulled in. He needed a minute to process what had just happened. Putting the car in park. he turned the key towards him and silenced the rumbling engine. The stillness helped him think. He had enjoyed her beating, penance for his wrong-doing, not the pain but the lack of control he had over his own self. To relinquish control was the ultimate form of freedom. He craved more. He wanted to go back and get her to teach and guide him, help him to become a better lover. 

Groaning he felt his cock straining against his pants, the zipper's cool metal teeth causing some intense sensations on his delicate parts. He turned his car back on and sped home. Shifting into park, he grabbed his backpack and used it to hide his erection as he made his way up to his room without being spotted. He locked the door behind him and ripped his jeans off. His hands trembled as he wrapped them around his stiff cock and he began stroking his full nine inches. He moaned loudly and picked up the pace. Still standing in the middle of his bedroom floor, he turned and sat on his bed, leaning back to relax. As he did, he felt the warm sting from his punishment. Thoughts flooded back in; his hot teacher, her dungeon, her strict control over him, her deft skills with the flogger and riding crop.

As he masturbated, he had imagined what it would have been like if Ms. Callahan was the one controlling it. In his mind's eye, his rough hands were replaced by her soft ones, the voice in his head was sweet and feminine, telling him to cum for her. Chris exploded in his own hand, his whole body shaking with his release. His orgasm was exquisite and he could only lay their panting, his hand full of his own spunk. He took his shirt off and wiped his hand and stomach on it, tossing the soiled article into the hamper. He dozed for the rest of the evening, getting up for only an hour or so to make himself a sandwich.

Tuesday morning arrived, dark and drizzly. Chris got dressed, pulling a hoodie over his head to fight off the spring chill. He drove to school, parked and then went to Leslie's locker to wait for her to arrive. He saw her pink hair before he saw any more of her and his heart fluttered. Her eyes met his and she trotted over to him, giving him a hug.

"I forgot to tell you yesterday, but I had a great time this weekend," she whispered in his ear, her sultry voice causing him to shudder.

"Yeah, me too," he replied, blushing. Leslie turned the dial on her locker, entering the combination and pulling the lever to open it. She grabbed several books and put them into her bag. Chris took it from her and offered to walk her to class. She smiled and took him up on it. They headed down the halls together and chatted about nothing in particular. Arriving at her algebra class, she stood on tip-toes, pecked him on the cheek and went inside with her bag. Chris watched her take a seat and then darted down the hall to the complete opposite wing for his history class. 

His teacher started the class by discussing the Middle Ages; sword fights, chivalry, pagans dancing under a full moon. It was a theme which would normally have him enthralled but his mind wandered. Next period was with Ms, Callahan. He wondered what she would be wearing, unable to get the picture of that flirty sun dress out of his head. He began recalling her harsh treatment of him and it turned him on. Fidgeting in his seat he attempted to get comfortable as his penis tented his pants. Raising his hand he asked to be excused and walked down the hall to the restroom. 

Entering the stall he latched it behind himself and worked at the button on his jeans. He took his half-hard cock in his hands and tucked it into his waistband. Years of coping with a giant erection taught him some tricks, albeit uncomfortable ones. He zipped his pants back up and took off his hoodie, tying it around his waist. As he stepped out of the stall he checked out his package in the mirror. Satisfied, he made the trek back to class. When he came back in he saw that his history teacher had the PowerPoint going with paintings of the ravages of bubonic plague; that helped his erection subside.

When the bell rang he packed up his things and walked towards his English Composition class. He took his seat and looked around for Ms. Callahan, she wasn't in yet. He pulled out his copy of The Jungle and the rough draft of his paper they had worked on together. As she entered, her eyes immediately met Chris' and his heart pounded at his rib cage. She was dressed in a navy blue skirt-suit combination, her legs clad in tan stockings, simple blue pumps on her feet. Her hair was down for a change but still pulled away from her face with a headband. Chris couldn't stop staring at her; her round butt, her white blouse peeking out from under the feminine-cut blazer, her green eyes rimmed by tortoise shell glasses. 

Ms. Callahan couldn't help but notice the student she had flogged the previous day gazing at her and it distracted her. She stood at the front of the class and the other students looked at her, but most would look away, taking notes or reading passages in the novel. Not Chris. The bell couldn't come fast enough for either of them. Chris took his time packing his things while Ms. Callahan tried to leave before the bell had even rang.

"Hey, Ms. C., can we talk?" Chris asked.

"Chris, I know what you are going to say. You are not the first person to have an infatuation with me. What happened the other night never should have and I apologize." Ms. Callahan sounded differently that she had yesterday; before she was harsh and domineering, now she seemed modest and contrite.

Chris stared at his feet, ashamed. "I want to learn more," he said to his teacher.

"Chris, you are too young for me," she said, fishing for excuses. 

"I'm eighteen, perfectly legal!" he responded with indignation.

"Chris, no."

His head hung low as he left class. 

Lunch with Leslie was a good respite from his emotional turmoil. She was busy telling a joke to her friends and all he caught was the punchline: "See you next month!" and the whole table burst out laughing.

"What'd I miss?" he asked as he sat next to Leslie, slice of pizza in hand.

"Just lesbian vampire jokes," she responded. Chris thought about the punchline again and made a face of revulsion, causing all the girls at the table to laugh. "What, can't handle a little joke?" she jested.

"Not gross ones!" He finished his pizza and wrapped an arms around Leslie's waist, holding her close. Her friends were already planning out their weekend together; clubbing, getting their hair done, etcetera. The bell rang and everyone cleared their trays and headed off to class. Chris grabbed Leslie's arms gently as she turned to head to class, Ms. Callahan's rejection of him still fresh in his mind, "Leslie can I give you a ride home today?" he asked, his afternoon free.

"Sure! Meet me by my locker?" she suggested. 

"I'll be there before you will," he said, cheesy grin on his face.

The rest of the day went by quickly and soon he was at Leslie's locker, waiting for her to get out of class. She emerged from the throngs of people and smiled when her eyes met his. She hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek. She pulled off her hoodie and stashed it in her locker. She stood there in a simple green spaghetti-strap top that showed off her breasts and tattoos well. He noticed she had no bra straps showing and he grinned. 




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 04



"I hate that I have to cover up my tats at school," she pouted, "Stupid dress code!"

Chris, being sly, remarked "I hate that you have to cover up your tits at school!" Leslie flushed red and punched him in the arm. She threw some books and folders into her bag and gave it to Chris to carry. They headed out towards the parking lot and could see that it was pouring rain outside. "Stay here, I'll pull the car up," Chris told Leslie. 

She laughed, "It's just a little rain!" and as he jogged out into the torrent she followed closely behind him. The cold drops hit her bare skin causing a chill to course through her body. They got to the car and he went to the passenger side first. He fumbled with his keys, finally getting his nervous fingers to cooperate he opened the door for her. She climbed in out of the rain and sat like a wet dog in the passenger seat. He made his way to the other side and unlocked his own door, sitting on the fabric seats wetly. They both caught their breath as Chris turned on the car, cranking up the heat. The windows were fogged up from the moisture. Chris glanced over at Leslie. Her chest was heaving, her skin glittering with wet rain drops, her cold, hard nipples poking through the thin material of her shirt. She noticed him staring at her chest, looked down and them covered her bosom with her arm.

"I told you to wait," he said, chiding her, "Now you're cold and wet and mad at me for admiring the consequences!" he chuckled.

She glared at him, more upset because she knew he was right. They waited for the car to warm up so the foggy windows would clear. Chris, feeling uncharacteristically bold leaned over and ran his hand across her wet cheek and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met and he could feel how cold she really was. He deepened the kiss and held her close, pressing as much of her cold skin to his as he could. She wrapped her arms around his neck and continued to make out. His hand found its way to her breast and cupped it, her hard nipple poking into his rough palm. Their cloak of mist covering the car windows was rapidly dissolving and Chris broke the kiss before things got too out of control. 

"Let's get you home," he said as he fastened his seatbelt and backed out of the parking lot. She only lived a mile or so away from his house and he had been there plenty of times so he found his way there without any incident. Parking in her driveway, the car idled for a minute. 

"Wanna come inside and warm up?" she asked, "I could make you a cup of tea." Chris nodded and turned off the ignition. They ran into her house and she locked the door behind them. Her parents both worked and wouldn't be home for a while. Chris kicked off his muddy shoes, not wanting to track dirt through the house and pulled his wet hoodie off, hanging it with the rest of the coats. They headed to the kitchen and Leslie got the kettle going, preparing the tea she had promised. 

Steaming cups of tea in hand they went to her bedroom to watch TV. In typical teenage fashion her bedroom walls were covered in posters... with a twist. Normal girls would have pictures from glossy magazines of sexy teen heartthrobs and idols; Leslie's ideas of heartthrobs were heavily tattooed and pierced, idols included Marilyn Monroe, Kat Von D and Bettie Page. Interspersed were posters from concerts she had gone to; Death Cab for Cutie, Rise Against and a couple local artists he wasn't familiar with, and pictures of her and her friends in various outfits over the years. There were even a few rare shots of her before her body modifications and dreads. 

Chris flopped onto her bed and made himself comfortable while Leslie searched for the remote control. She came into the bed as well and the two sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed sipping tea and flipping through the channels. Chris wanted so badly to hold her in his arms again, to feel her warmth, to be inside her, but he dared not make the first move. Sometimes he hated being so painfully shy. He drank his sweet tea, really only wanting to drink her sweet honey. She leaned in close and sighed softly, feeling safe and secure. 

Finishing his cup, he leaned over and set it on her bedside table. There was a bit of awkward silence as they watched TV together. Leslie was craving him deep inside her but didn't want to seem easy and Chris didn't want to appear to be anything other than a gentleman. The two sat at a stalemate, neither wanting to make the first move. 

"I'm still chilly from the rain," Chris remarked, laying down behind her and pulling a blanket over himself. Leslie said 'me too' and rested alongside him, pulling a corner of the blanket over herself. Chris drew his lover close and covered her completely, protectively, guarding her against the chill of the wet spring afternoon. She felt safe in his arms and all the tension left her body. He continued to watch over her as she drifted off to sleep, warm and safe. Chris held her for a bit longer and then crept out of her room, letting her slumber in peace. Slipping on his muddy shoes and damp sweatshirt he left and headed home. He rode in silence, thinking about the enchantress that had him in her spell. 

Wednesday morning came and went. The routines of school drudged on. His only relief was lunch with Leslie and his English Comp. class where he could fantasize about Ms. Callahan. As he entered his classroom, Ms. Callahan gave him the cold shoulder. She was distant, denying him and his advances. She was even dressed more conservatively than usual with a bulky sweater and long slacks on. Ms. Callahan went through the rest of class avoiding eye-contact with her young pupil and Chris got the hint. He left class and headed to the cafeteria without incident. Leslie wasn't at lunch today, her friend Scarlett told Chris that she was in her photography class doing some work in the darkroom. Chris' imagination immediately flashed to the two of them going at it in the red-lit room. He was happy when the rest of his day went by quickly. 

At the end of the school day he headed to Leslie's locker. She came bounding through the halls, hands full of glossy black and white photos she was eager to show him. There were very artistic shots of flowers and streams and the like.

"Oh you're not going to develop the pictures we took on Sunday?" he asked. Her cheeks turned bright pink and she shook her head no.

"And I hope those will be between you and I," she said, a bit of shyness creeping into her normally extroverted personality. Chris laughed, loving not being the timid one for once. Wednesdays were Leslie's days to work as a shop girl at a local tattoo and piercing parlor. One of the perks of her job was getting some low-cost work done. Chris offered to drive her to work and she accepted and they sped off together down the road. She chatted about her day and Chris just listened intently. He loved the melodious sound of her voice, the way her chest rose and fell when she got excited, how she used her hands to talk. He pulled up to a teal building with a sign that read "Royal Tattoo" on the facade. She invited him inside but he didn't want to get her in trouble by loitering around with no intent of getting any ink. He had thought about it but wasn't ready to make the plunge. She waved goodbye and headed inside as Chris drove off.

He was bored and decided to head home. The internet was always a wealth of boredom-busting information. He parked his car in the driveway and noticed that no one else was home. He went inside and up to his bedroom where he kicked off his shoes and hopped into his bed, relaxing as he pulled his computer onto his lap. He checked his email and Facebook and comments on a couple status updates. Nothing much was going on online and his boredom grew. With boredom came the inevitable decision to look at some porn; it was good to kill some time before dinner. He pulled up his favorite bondage site and checked out a new photo shoot and video that had been posted. 

Two ladies dressed in black and red latex had a man blindfolded on his knees. They took turns riding his face having several fake orgasms. He knew it was all staged but he still wished that it was him licking those pussies. He wished he could find a woman willing to work with him, help him explore himself and break out of his shell. He thought about Ms. Callahan again and his cock grew hard in his pants. Even though she had rejected him, he couldn't help but want to prove himself to her. To demonstrate what an obedient slave he could be. 

He came out of his bedroom and went to the kitchen. No one was home yet. He searched through the cabinets for something to eat. He opened the one above the fridge, sometimes his mom kept sugary treats in there, and his eyes landed on a bottle of cheap whiskey. He smiled as he took the bottle to his lips and swallowed three large gulps. The whiskey would numb the pain of being spurned by his teacher he told himself. He grabbed a bag of chips and walked back to his room, flicking on the TV when he got there. He changed the channels trying to find something to end his boredom but it was just court shows and reruns of primetime dramas on. It was almost seven o-clock and his parents still weren't home. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, planning on texting Leslie to see what she was up to and he noticed he had a text. 

From Mom Dad and I are going out tonight. You're on your own for dinner Sent at 11:04am 

He wished he had read this text earlier, he wouldn't have waited around for dinner. He grabbed his keys and headed out for some fast food. His head was swimming a bit, the whiskey taking effect but not so much as to impair his driving. He had been sneaking swigs from that bottle for quite some time. Soon he was going to have to get Sarah to buy him a bottle to replace it. He drove into town and looked around for something good and cheap to eat. Settling on tacos he purchased a six-pack and parked his car in the lot, scarfing them down alone, not caring how he looked doing it. The whiskey seemed to be quite a liberator for him. Normally he just took a drink when he couldn't sleep and it cured that very well. This was a first, drinking it so early in the evening. The world seemed ripe with possibilities. He debated what to do with his newly freed inhibitions; go see Leslie, go to a strip club?

An idea crept into his head from somewhere back in his subconscious and he finished his last taco and sped off. He pulled up his GPS and clicked on the history, bringing up Ms. Callahan's address. He followed the feminine voice towards the mansion outside of town. He pulled up to the wrought-iron gate and pressed the buzzer. No answer. He pressed and held the button for a few more seconds. Nothing. Inspired by the liquid courage he had coursing through his veins he shut off his car and walked towards the gate. He wasn't quite skinny enough to squeeze through the bars but he shimmied up and over with little difficulty. He made the long trip up the winding driveway. 

He wondered what kind of security system she had and if there would be hounds released on him. He chuckled to himself and climbed the few porch stairs leading to her front door. He rang the bell and listened for movement inside. It was almost completely dark outside and she had no front porch light for him to see by. Satisfied that he heard no movement he rang the bell again, in case she hadn't heard him. Finally he could discern the sound of footsteps hitting the hardwood floors growing louder as they came nearer. The door swung open and he was greeted by his teacher, Ms. Callahan. Her red hair was down in soft ringlets, her make-up bold and alluring. She wore a black silk kimono-style robe and black leather riding boots. Her outfit and the scowl on his face indicated that he had interrupted something. He remembered her day planner and the names and times in red ink that littered Wednesday's entry. 

He turned to leave and she grabbed him firmly by the upper arm, her well-manicured nails digging into his skin. "Chris, what the fuck are you doing here?!" she fumed. She pulled him into the entryway and slammed the door, dragging him through her house. He couldn't speak which only served to make her angrier. It was almost as though she had two different personalities; one calm and demure school teacher and the other a stormy and demanding dominatrix. As she walked quickly, the robe would billow to the side, offering Chris glimpses of a leather corset and lace panties underneath. A thrill coursed through his body. She took him down the hall, past the dungeon room and opened a new door. Inside was her bedroom. She threw him roughly onto the bed. "Your little fucking crush is interrupting my business," she sneered. "Stay here and don't fucking touch anything while I finish with my client, then I'm going to set you straight about a few things!" She left the room, slamming yet another door behind her. Chris looked around nervously. He decided to head out before she got back. As he tried the knob on her door he realized that it was locked. He was trapped until she came back. 

It was then that she noticed the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. It displayed black and white footage of the whole house. One pane had a video feed from the front porch, another from her bedroom to which he waved to himself in real time. The third was the back yard and the fourth was of the dungeon. This must have been what the cable guy was installing the other day. He came closer and inspected the recording. His teacher was standing tall as an older gentleman with a pot-belly and bald spot was crawling on his hands and knees wearing a shiny latex sissy maid's outfit. There was no sound but he could imagine what the sounds and dialogue might be. She struck the sissy maid with a wooden paddle and he moved a bit faster. The paddle made contact with his bare ass and thighs and he struggled to move even faster, his gait faltering. Dressing up in women's clothes and being paddled wasn't how he had imagined things would go when he was fantasizing about all of this. 

She threw the paddle on the floor and the man picked it up, put it in his mouth and crawled towards the wall. Once there he put it on the peg using his hands and went back down on all fours. Ms. Callahan walked over and put her stiletto-heeled boot on his back right where his kidney was, visibly digging the point of it into him. The man's face was twisted in agony as he mouthed what Chris could only conclude were apologies. She went to a spot out of camera range and tossed the man's clothes at him, a look of disgust on her face as she walked out, leaving the man to get dressed. Chris could see that the older man was turned on but Ms. Callahan just left him. Suddenly she burst through the bedroom door and stalked towards her like a lioness taking down a gazelle. Her face was a mask of anger, her chest heaved, her bosom looking as if it was going to spill out of the top of the leather corset.

She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his face close to hers. "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing. Here," she said, annunciating every word. 

"I...I wanted to be... to be your slave," Chris replied. This side of his teacher was very scary. 

"I told you that I wouldn't yet you have the audacity to come to my house and beg me to dominate you?" she spat. 

"Yes," he replied, the whiskey giving him courage he normally would not have possessed.

"Yes, what?" she said, repeating his words back to him. 

He had seen enough porn to know what to do next, "Yes Mistress."

She softened slightly, still angry at the boy for interrupting her session with her client. "What do you think I do here?" she asked, wondering.

"You bring clients into your home and you dominate them," he generalized. She threw him back and he stumbled and landed on her soft bed.

"I went to California to study teaching. I found a passion for 'The Lifestyle,'" she said using her fingers to make quotes in the air. "I got my doctorate in psychology, now I offer sex therapy and counseling. My clients are men with a lot of issues and they come to me and we work through them. They pay me a lot of money to fix their problems. Some want an outlet for sexual fantasies that the cannot otherwise engage in. They get my complete discretion under doctor-patient confidentiality," she explained, still very irritated with the young man. "I do not have sex with my clients, do you understand?" 

He nodded, "I have fantasies too Ms. Callahan," he said, the whiskey helping.

"I think we've gone way past last name formality, call me Cat. Every boy has fantasies. Why don't you just get a girlfriend who like to tie you up and spank you and have a normal sex life like every other teenager?" she suggested.

"I want more!" he said, pleading, "I'm so shy. The only reason I'm here is because of the whiskey I drank earlier!"

"Chris, you are my student. It isn't right."

"You said you wanted to help people, help me!" Cat looked around and caught a glimpse of his raging hard-on, his pants jutting out by quite a good margin.

She rolled her eyes, "Pineapple," she said simply.

"Pineapple?"

"It's the safe word, say it and we stop." 

Ms. Callahan grabbed him by the arm again, her nails digging into his skin again, leaving crescent moon shapes. She pulled him down the hall and threw him into the dungeon. His feet caught up on themselves and he tumbled to the floor. She stood over him and presented her leather boot. "Kiss it," she commanded. Chris obeyed, planting a single kiss on the tip of her boot. "More, worship these boots." He continued to kiss the soft leather. He felt one-inch tall as he groveled at her feet. "I don't appreciate you coming into my house uninvited," she said, malice in her voice. He didn't know if it was an act of if she was really angry with him but he feared the latter. He chose to keep kissing her boots to keep her pacified. "Take off your shirt!" she said and he obeyed, exposing his bare chest and back. "Crawl over to the cross again. I liked you spread-eagle and helpless before." He felt helpless right now and wondered what he had gotten himself into. On his hands and knees he moved quickly to the cross and stood, placing himself into the proper position. He knew what happened to men who didn't move fast enough. Cat tied him to the wood and crossed the room picking up her two favorite implements of punishment, the leather flogger and the riding crop. The flogger had several strands of leather hanging from a leather-wrapped handle. The riding crop was a thin piece of plastic wrapped in woven nylon with a ergonomic leather grip. 

She didn't need any time warming up, her previous clients had done that. Using a flick of the wrist, the riding crop came sailing through the air and landed on his bare flesh with a sharp snap. His body tensed and he groaned as his back ignited in fire. She used the whole shaft of the crop and the coarse nylon was an intense kind of pain. He breathed deeply, taking the pain for his Mistress. She flogged him in figure-eights, harder than she had last time, the leather tassels hitting the spot carved out by the riding crop. 

The next sharp blow from the crop landed on his bony shoulder blades and the pain knocked the air from his lungs. He gasped and writhed against his restraints which caused Cat to laugh menacingly. The woman was enjoying punishing her captive. She cared not for his thoughts and feelings. She was just going to beat him until he shouted the safe word like a little bitch and then send him on his way. She lied to him about being a psychologist, she was just a sadist who liked to get paid to beat and degrade men, but Chris took his lashing, wanting to make her happy. She struck him again on his lower back and again on his other shoulder and again on his trunk, criss-crossing the first mark. 




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 04



She kept flogging him, adding blows on his back and shoulders with the crop. He hardened his resolve to endure the punishment, telling himself over and over not to say the safe word. One particularly painful spot was on on his side at the bottom of his ribcage where the bone jutted out past his skinny abdomen. There had to be more than two dozen marks on his back ranging in color from pink to deep red. The pain was intense but he justified it by telling himself that it would help him to come out of his shell. Chris escaped the torment by thinking about Leslie in the meadow on the warm spring day. He hadn't noticed that the blows had stopped. Cat released him from the cross and he slumped to the floor, trying to catch his breath. She walked over to an armchair in the center of the room on a raised platform. 

Sitting down ,she ordered him to crawl to her. He got on all fours and moved towards her. The skin compressed and stretched on his back, causing anguish with every move he made. He was on the verge of tears, on the verge of collapse, on the verge of utter breakdown but he pushed himself, hoping this would give him the strength to overcome his own insecurities. Cat looked down at the determined man and decided to throw him a bone, he had after all taken one of her harsher punishments. She sat up a bit and slid her panties from her rear, throwing them to the slave on the floor.

"Pick them up and put them on the table over there," she said pointing to a low bench. He went to grab them with his hand and she corrected him, "With your teeth, slut." Using his mouth he grasped them and crawled over to the bench, placing them there gently. As he came back towards her she got a chance to admire the welts already forming on his back. He arrived at her feet and she laughed with a tone of derision and ridicule that made his spirit ache. She spread her legs and exposed her bald pussy to his wanton gaze. 

"Make me cum," she said haughtily, complete disdain for the man she saw as garbage at her feet.

'Maybe if I please her, she will be merciful,' he told himself. He took to the task at had and licked her pussy with enthusiasm, trying to show her his worth. She eased back in the chair as he ate her out. He was quite adept and she had been with three clients before Chris that she had deemed too old or fat to fuck. She had a lot of pent up frustration and didn't take long to cum. Wrapping her legs around his head, she held him there, riding him until she was satisfied. He continued to lavish her with his tongue, trying to win her favor. 

"I bet you're horny," she commented. Her slave nodded but continued to eat her pussy. "Why don't you stand up and take off your pants," she suggested. He obliged her and stripped naked, grateful so be off his hands and knees, even for just a moment. She admired his hard nine inches. "You like this punishment, don't you?" He just nodded, hoping it was what she wanted to hear. She grabbed him by the cock roughly and led him to the bench that had her panties on them. Throwing them aside she forced him onto the bench on his back. The pain exploded anew and he grimaced. "Does my little painslut like that?"

"Yes Mistress," he gasped, wishing to appease her. Cat threw a leg over to the other side of the bench and straddled him, teasing him by dangling her pussy mere inches above his hard cock. He resisted the urge to buck up in an attempt to penetrate her, knowing it would only make her mad. Slowly she eased herself onto him but the added pressure on his back caused him to whimper. She took all of him inside her and rode him gently, fingering her clit as Chris struggled with the mixed feelings of pleasure and pain. Her pussy was tight. He back was on fire. 

Noticing the grimace on his face she decided to give him a reprieve, "You wanna get back on your knees? Would that make it hurt less?" He could only nod as Cat dismounted. In the blink of an eye she pushed him from the bench and he landed hard on the concrete floor. He was unable to move, fighting back the urge to say his safe word and make this all stop. A panicked thought rushed into his head, 'Would she even stop?' He banished the thought and rolled back onto his knees. She beckoned him to follow her to a cot on the far wall. She laid down and invited him up. Crawling on the floor he climbed into the bed and began eating her out again, hoping she would be pleased.

She cooed and let him continue until she had another orgasm. She held him there until the shuddering subsided. "Come fuck your mistress," she said, only really concerned with her own sick pleasure. He moved to be on top of her and positioned the head of his penis at her entrance. His back still hurt, but there wasn't the constant contact on his raw skin. He took her gently at first until he was buried deep inside her then started off at a quick pace. Cat groaned and moaned beneath him as he fucked her vigorously. Grabbing another riding crop strategically mounted on the wall by the cot, she struck him deftly on his left butt cheek. He growled and fucked her harder. She moaned with every deep stroke inside her. He closed his eyes and endured more of her whipping on his ass and lower back as he fucked her. 

She told him to stop but her words were ignored. He grabbed her ankles roughly and put them on his shoulders, continuing to piston in and out of her. The new position made it harder for her to strike him and made it easier for him to fuck her deeper. He struck her g-spot with each penetration. She panted and writhed beneath him as he fucked her with wild abandon. He couldn't stop himself. His animal instincts took over and he was no longer human. There was nothing Cat could do other than to let him fuck her and he would deal with the consequences later.

He grunted as he fucked her harder and harder, Cat now screaming in ecstasy as she was gripped by another orgasm. The sex was intense, but not in a good and satisfying kind of way. He fucked her, didn't care if she was enjoying it. In his mind he had earned it. He thought about her lashing him with the crop and degrading him and how he did it for her pleasure without getting any in return, without any of his needs and desires being met. He exacted his pound of flesh and screamed as he came inside her. He crumpled on top of her, her ankles still on his shoulders, his dick still pumping his seed inside her. He panted. He groaned. He was spent. Cat lacked the strength to push him off of her in this position, but she was also worn out. When he did pull himself out of her he stood on wobbly legs, his back aching with each pulse of his heart. 

She smiled and admired her student. He stood there naked, tall yet defeated. He was so much younger and definitely more handsome than any of her other clients, maybe she would keep him around just to whip and fuck him, she thought. She walked over to a cabinet and unlocked it, pulling out a black rubber bracelet with the word "CAT" stamped on it and tossed it to her new slave. He caught it and looked at her, puzzled. 

"Wear it, you're mine now," she said. He slid it onto his wrist, still unsure about this whole scenario. "Now get out of my fucking house!" she said, throwing his clothes at him. He took them and dressed as he fled. He nearly passed out as he pulled his shirt over his head, the soft fabric feeling like sandpaper on his welts. He jogged down the driveway and made his escape in his car. His mind raced as he took the turns too fast and accelerated into them, just trying to get away. He didn't know if this was what he wanted, but he kept telling himself that things would be different next time. He thought he had proved himself to her and next time she would explore his needs and desires. He felt like he was dead wrong.



Extracurricular Activities Ch. 05



Dawn on Thursday morning came too soon. He had slept on his stomach to avoid aggravating the lash-marks on his back. He was sore and tired and just wanted to cut class. He saw the black rubber bracelet on his wrist and rolled over onto his side, covering his head again, hiding from the shame he felt inside. 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! His phone told him he had just gotten a text.

From Leslie L.

Hey, I missed the bus! Can you come pick me up?

Sent at 7:22am 

He would have moved mountains, walked across hot coals and endured a thousand of Cat's punishments for that girl. He texted her back and got dressed, choosing the softest shirt he owned, a nice silk one for special occasions. He took a quick look in the mirror. He looked like hell. Shrugging it off he went to go pick up Leslie. She was waiting at the curb and he pulled up along side her. Climbing in, she immediately began thanking, apologizing and giving excuses simultaneously. Chris said it wasn't a problem and drove the two to school.

Parking his car, he got out stiffly and she asked what was wrong. Chris lied and told her he had just slept funny. She nodded and took his hand, walking into the brick building through the columned front entrance. He took her to her locker and helped her with her books. He bore her book bag on his shoulder as they walked to her first class even though the pain was excruciating. She kissed him and they parted ways. Chris took his time getting to his first class, not giving a shit if he was late. His head hung low without Leslie to lift it. When he came into class after the bell his teacher just let it slide, the kid obviously having a bad day. He eased into his seat and just laid his head down, his back hurting so badly. The bell couldn't come fast enough as he walked down the halls towards English class, the one he was dreading the most. 

"Just gotta get it over with," he told himself aloud.

He had mixed feelings when his eyes met Cat's; he was in pain physically and emotionally but he wanted to continue with his training, hoping she would crack his hard exterior and help him defeat his demons. She seemed to have a good time whipping at the flesh on his back anyway. The lecture went quickly and when the bell rang he just left, not wanting to speak to her, to hear her excuses or apologies or ridicule. 

Lunch was his saving grace and Leslie his angel in dark times. She radiated a beautiful light that banished away all of the monsters that tormented him. He just sat there, grateful to be close and he listened to her as she chatted with Scarlett, talking about her photography class and her fears about her Biology quiz next period. She could have been reading the dictionary and he would have been enchanted. As the bell sounded once more, the two cleared the table and headed off in separate directions. He craved her the moment they parted. The trauma to his back had been for her but he could never tell her.

Biology was boring and he skipped P.E. in favor of being antisocial. His school had a clock tower and courtyard near the entrance. There was only one door that allowed people to get into it and it was supposed to be locked, the fire marshal deeming it unsafe if a fire were to break out due to its single exit. Chris tested the door and found that some students had gotten in and taped over the latch that would have locked it automatically. He climbed the winding staircase to the top and found a few of his classmates up there, passing a joint. They quickly hid it from his view, but the whole tower smelled like ganja. He had smoked a few times before and didn't normally like the disconnected feeling it gave him, but today was different. Proffering his hand, the guys dressed in tie-dye with long hair passed the roach to the left. He took a hit and held it in his lungs as he handed it off. Exhaling slowly, he coughed a couple times but his pain seemed to melt away for the moment. 

He stared out of the tower onto the grounds below. The courtyard was empty, all the kids in class. The field had his P.E. class running track and throwing footballs. One of the hippies in the tower pulled out some more pot and began rolling another joint. The man rolling sparked it first and then passed it on to Chris. He complimented the guy on the nice tight roll and took a drag, advancing it down the line. He was pleasantly stoned and didn't take a hit on the next go around. He thanked the guys for the smoke and headed on with hand shakes and high-fives before he left. 

He walked out to his car and spritzed on some cologne he had stashed in his glove compartment. He heard the bell ring from the parking lot and went inside to meet up with Leslie. He had to go to work and really could use seeing her before starting his shift. He arrived at her locker before she did but she wasn't long behind. She was walking with Scarlett when she spotted him and the two parted ways, giving each other a sisterly peck on each cheek. As Leslie came closer she looked him up and down and grinned.

"Where'd you get the smoke?" she asked as she got next to him. He looked around and sniffed his shirt, smelling the fresh cologne and nothing else. "Your eyes are so fucking red!" she whispered and shook her head. "You holding out on me?"

"Nah, I skipped P.E. and smoked with some guys in the clocktower," he explained.

"You got a minute?" she asked, "I want to show you something I'm working on in photography class." He couldn't deny her, he didn't care if Sarah was going to be mad for him being late. He didn't care about much of anything with the cannabis flowing through his veins, stimulating his neurons and giving him a case of the munchies. He followed her to her class and they crossed the room to the darkroom. The light on the outside was off, indicating that there was no one using the room. They stepped in and she flicked the switch, bathing the tiny space in a red glow.

Instead of showing Chris her work, Leslie began kissing him, her hands thankfully staying on his chest instead of his tender back. He kissed her back with fervor. "I know you have to go to work soon, but I could really use some of this right now," she whispered, rubbing the front of his pants. He groaned and let her have her way with him. She unzipped his pants and pulled out his hardening cock. Stroking it in her hands it went to full mast very quickly. She lifted her black skirt over her round ass and showed off her naked rear. She wasn't wearing panties. He hardened fully and moaned at the look of her in the red radiance. 

"Please fuck me, right here," she begged. He couldn't withhold sex from her even though his whole body ached. He knew once he was inside her, all of his cares would melt away. He took a step forward and slid into her warm, wet depths, groaning as her body tightened with the invasion. His mind and body felt so blissfully disconnected. His brain was hazy, his back a dull ache, his dick wrapped in a velvet glove. He fucked her slowly and deliberately, feeling every inch as it entered and exited her. He felt her reaching the precipice and reached out to give her breasts a bit of attention. She quivered softly and rested her head on the work bench, enjoying his gentleness. 

Chris picked up the pace, fighting back the pain from friction of his shirt on his raw back. His urges took over and he screwed her in the darkroom. He didn't last long, but Leslie didn't seem to mind. He came inside her, filling her tight pussy with his semen. He could have stayed there inside her forever but feared getting caught screwing in school. He pulled out and put himself away. Leslie smiled and stood up, holding out her closed hand to him. He opened his to receive whatever she was giving him. She dropped a pair of panties in his palm, her panties. He smiled and tucked them into his pocket for later. She stood on her toes and kissed him. It really turned him on to think that she was going to walk around with no underwear on, his cum leaking from her tight pussy. He kissed her and left in a hurry, pulling out of the lot and heading to work. 

Chris came in, feeling like he was on top of the world. The weed was wearing off and his eyes weren't so red but he still felt high as he thought of Leslie. He passed Sarah, Mark and Johnny as they were cutting vegetables and getting ready for dinner service. Sarah saw the look on his face and smiled, "Someone got his dick wet!" she remarked. Chris blushed bright red and that was all the confirmation the kitchen crew needed. They busted out laughing and Johnny went up to him and gave him a friendly slap on the back. The blow caused him to wince as it landed on one of the welts criss-crossing his back. Sarah told them all to 'give the kid a break' and they went back to work. Chris tied his apron on and went up to his boss, asking her what needed to be done. He rested his hand on the counter near her and she spotted the black rubber bracelet on it, a flash of recognition arcing across her face.

"Chris, can you come into the office, we have some paperwork for you to fill out so you can sign up for benefits," Sarah said. Chris followed her into the office and she began rummaging through the filing cabinet, looking for something. The room was only about six foot wide and six foot long, no windows, filled simply with a computer desk, a couple filing cabinets and two chairs, one a bit nicer than the other. "Go ahead and shut the door and take a seat." Once the door was latched he pulled over the other swivel chair and sat down carefully as not to irritate his injured back. Suddenly her open palm came rushing towards his face and made contact with his cheek with a loud smack. "Are you stupid?" she shouted. Chris just sat there in shock, mouth agape, cheek stinging and red. Her eyes flickered with anger, "Cat fucking Callahan?!" Sarah roared, "You have no idea what you are getting yourself into."

Sarah paced back and forth in the tiny office while Chris grappled with what just happened. "You hit me," he said in disbelief, rubbing the hot spot on his face.

"Oh my god! I could do it again too!" she fumed. Flopping down into the nicer chair Sarah took several deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. "She's a cruel woman," she said finally.

"She wasn't that bad," Chris replied, lying through his teeth.

"Take off your shirt," Sarah ordered. 

Chris was about to refuse when her eyes met his and he could see the rage bubbling just below the surface. He looked around for a quick escape route but it was blocked by his own chair and Sarah had deadly reflexes. Chris sighed audibly and popped the snaps of his jacket open, throwing it to the side. He pulled his undershirt over his head gingerly and added it to the pile. Sitting in the chair facing his boss bare-chested made him very nervous but having her be so rough and domineering got him aroused. 

"Stand up and turn around, let me see what she did to you." Chris obeyed and stood up, showing her the stripes left by the riding crop. Sarah gasped and stifled a moan. She reached out and stroked one of the longer marks from end to end, her fingers trembling. Chris inhaled sharply as her touch ignited pain and pleasant memories from last night. "You must have been a bad boy," she purred.

"How did you know about Cat?" he asked, still unsure how she could have found out.

"Those stupid bracelets she makes her clients wear," she said admiring the work her fellow Domme had inflicted.

"Well I'm not a client of hers," he retorted defiantly.

"Oh you think you're special, don't you? Look, Cat and I go way back. We went to high school together, we got into BDSM together, we've even had sex with each other, but that was before she went to California for college. Something happened out there and she came back a very sadistic woman."

"I know it sounds cliché but I feel a connection with her," Chris said, repeating what he had told himself to justify her actions.

"She is a professional dominatrix. I've seen her whip a man until he lost consciousness," Sarah said, going through her desk drawers looking for something.

"She didn't hurt me like that," he said, the stripes on his back begging to differ. He failed to mention that he fucked her harder than he had ever fucked a woman before, fueled by her punishment but that wasn't important.

"Lean over and put you hands against the wall," Sarah instructed. Chris did as he was told, a shudder of pleasure coursing through his body as her words controlled his every move. "Put your head down and relax. This is going to hurt a bit," she said and Chris lowered his head between his outstretched arms, bracing for the worst. She flipped open the cap on a tube of A&D ointment that she had in her desk from her last tattoo, depositing a small amount onto her fingertips she smoothed it onto the angry welts on Chris' back. He gasped at the feelings of coolness and pain on his raw skin, closing his eyes tightly.

"That's a good boy," Sarah cooed softly. She continued applying the soothing salve to his back with a gentleness that Chris didn't know she had possessed. "I know you saw Johnny and I in the dry-storage area the other day," Sarah remarked out of the blue which cause Chris to raise his head slightly before Sarah roughly pushed it back down, "Just relax, you can't be tense," she said lovingly. "Johnny saw you. He didn't tell me until afterwards, he knew I would have stopped. When he said you were watching so intently I thought you were just shocked to see your boss and coworker going at it. I didn't know you were interested in the lifestyle," she concluded.

"I love it when a woman takes control," Chris said softly, admitting his taboo desires to his chef. Sarah continued to rub the ointment into all of the lash marks on his back. There were dozens ranging from small light pink lines to angry red stripes that nearly broke the skin. Sarah couldn't believe that he had endured them, such a young kid.

"Did you like it when she hit you? I've seen her with the riding crop; most people use the tip and it stings a bit, but she uses the whole shaft, more like when you cane someone."

Chris sighed. He had thought about this long and hard especially while it was happening. "I don't like the pain," he said after much deliberation, "but the pain I can block out or channel into other emotions."

Sarah nodded, "But Chris, BDSM isn't really about pain per se, it is about control and domination and surrendering yourself to someone else completely, trusting them with your life and well-being in their hands." She finished with the ointment and put down the tube. 

She stepped back and took another look at Cat's work on her young apprentice's back, the cream adding a shine to the raised marks. She knew he was a strong kid, he had endured her playful punishment plenty of times but now she saw something different in him. She finally saw him as a man. Sarah was very aroused and took a seat on her high-backed office chair, sighing audibly. Chris moved to get out of his current position, bent over, legs spread, hands on the wall, but the moment he stood erect, Sarah corrected him.

"I haven't released you yet."

Chris' mind wanted so badly to stand, to defy her, to flee, but he stopped in his tracks and could feel his body betraying him as he lowered his head and assumed the subordinate posture once more. He was rock hard. Sarah could see the turmoil written across his face.

"You've had a trying day," she said simply. "Here, come sit and rest for a minute." He turned around and was about to sit in the spare chair when he noticed her pointing to the floor by her feet. His eyes searched for confirmation which was met by a stern 'Sit' from Sarah. He heeded her and took a seat on the floor near the dominant woman. She motioned for him to come closer and as he did she took his head gently in her hands and rested it on her lap. Chris felt warmth and compassion emanating from her. She ran her fingers through his hair and he relaxed further. He had such a fitful night of sleep with his sore back, he could have drifted off right there.

"You were such a good boy, taking such a harsh punishment for your first time," Sarah commented, pulling Chris out of his near-slumber, "You should get a reward." Chris wondered what she had meant when he heard clothes rustling above his head. He dared not move from the position she put him in, fearing upsetting her.

Sarah stroked the back of his head and gently grabbed a fistful of his hair, using it to turn him so that he was looking at her face. He noticed the smile on her face first, then the fact that she was nearly topless. She had unbuttoned her chef coat and unfastened her front-closure bra, baring her large grapefruit-sized breasts to him. Her nipples stood proudly atop the mounds, hard pencil erasers on rosy aureoles. Chris looked around nervously. Sensing his trepidation she guided his face to her chest.

"The door locks from the outside, you'd need a key to get in," she said reassuringly, "Now, come and get your reward," she purred.

Chris snatched up one of her nipples greedily and sucked and nibbled on the sensitive nubs. She gasped and sank into the chair, enjoying his rough eagerness. He kissed her chest and moved his way to her bare neck, sucking at the nape with fervor. Grabbing the hair on the back of his head she pulled him away and chastised him, "No leaving marks where people can see!"

He moved lower and kissed the swell of her right breast. Suckling hard, he left a hickey on her pale skin. Chris could feel her heart as if it would beat right out of her chest. Feeling bold he cupped her mound with his open palm, feeling the heat of her pussy under her clothes. She nodded softly, all the encouragement he needed. He unbuttoned her cargo pants, lowered the fly and slid the heavy black denim from her shapely rear. A flash of pink caught his eye as her silky bikinis came into view. Chris had never pictured her as the kind of woman to wear pink, but that was inconsequential as he gazed at her barely covered snatch. Sliding the fabric to the side he saw that she was bare except for a tiny, well-trimmed triangle at the apex, her slit glistening with her arousal. He grabbed the panties and pulled them from her waist. Helping him out, Sarah kicked them to the side and lifted a leg onto the armrest of her chair. The pretty petals of her pussy opened for him and he dove in, lapping up her sweet juices. 

Sarah groaned loudly then covered her mouth with her palm not wanting anyone else to hear her. Her flicked his tongue across her clit and tongue-fucked her luscious hole. She was already really turned on and at the verge of orgasm. Chris came up for air, licking his lips ferally. Sarah moaned and whimpered, her face awash with pleasure. Deciding to tease her, Chris thumbed her button softly, letting the orgasm build slower.

"You think you're cute, don't you?" she growled to which Chris gave her a very smug grin. Sarah seized him firmly by the throat, not enough to hurt him, but enough to get his attention. A sense of panic overcame him and his eyes darted around. She had made her point and swooped in, kissing him fervently on the lips, tasting herself on him. "Now go be a good boy and finish what you started," Sarah purred.

He set to work bringing his boss to her climax; gentle kisses to her pussy lips, tongue dancing over her clit, two fingers delving deeply into her honey pot stroking her g-spot. She writhed in the chair as he brought her closer and closer to the inevitable end. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her moans but it only helped a bit. She was really enjoying what her young apprentice was doing to her. 

Chris could feel her pussy tense up around his fingers before she squealed and shuddered violently under him. It was then that he had his first experience with a woman who squirts. Out of her tight hole came a torrent of sweet juices that Chris thirstily lapped up. Sarah had collapsed in the chair, naked chest heaving with every labored breath as the young man cleaned up the mess between her legs.




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 05



"Thank you, slut," she said in an endearing way. He smiled with pride and looked into her half-lidded eyes, still kneeling between her legs.

"You're welcome... Mistress," he added which caused Sarah to grin. He helped her get dressed, putting her feet into her panties and pant legs, sliding up and onto her ass. She admired his tenderness and respect. As he moved to grab his t-shirt and chef coat, Sarah stopped him.

"No," she said simply. Chris looked at her quizzically and she gave him a smile. Falling to her knees gracefully, she wrenched his pants open and pulled them down along with his boxers. Her sweet smile turned into a Cheshire cat grin when she saw what he was packing. She looked up at Chris, his cock waving in her face, and she caught the blush on his. She reached her hand up and held his balls firmly in her hand, causing him to grunt softly, his cock twitching. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, lapping at a drop of pre-cum that clung to the tip. Chris closed his eyes and his breath quickened. 

Slowly she worked as much of his nine inches as she could comfortably fit into her mouth and bobbed up and down on the first half. As she moved, she worked more and more of its length into her mouth. Chris saw her take inch by inch until her nose was nestled in his pubes, her lips wrapped around the root. He groaned at the sensation, his first time being deep-throated. She swallowed several times, feeling like waves washing over his cock. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Sarah noticed and abruptly pulled him out of her mouth, showering his bulbous head with little kisses. "Not yet," she whispered and Chris responded with a slight whimper. "I'm going to take you back in my mouth," she explained lovingly, "You can't cum until I give the signal," she said, stroking him with one hand, the other still clutching his balls. "Now I can't very well tell you to 'go ahead' with that massive dick in my throat, now can I?" she asked rhetorically. He shook his head as Sarah continued, "When I'm satisfied, I'm going to give your balls a gentle squeeze," she said, demonstrating for him. "If you cum before I let you, you will live to regret it." Chris nodded and she began to take him into her mouth and throat again. It only took her a moment to get him all the way to the hilt this time. She would pull him almost all the way out to tease the sensitive head and then take him deep inside her, fucking her own throat. Chris moaned and tried to control his urges but he was really struggling. 

Sensing his turmoil she slapped his ass sternly several times in rapid succession. He was immediately distracted by the sting, still sore from the few blows Cat had managed to land on his backside. He was able to stave off his climax for a little longer. When he thought Sarah had no more tricks up her sleeve she let out a deep moan, sending vibrations reverberating through his member. He gasped and moaned piteously, silently begging for release. She smacked him again, denying his request. Over and over she took him deep in her throat and he held back. He was on a hair trigger. His eyes pleaded with her cold ones. He wanted to please her but he didn't know how much longer he could stand.

With deft movements she reached up and cupped his balls but did not squeeze them, taunting him one last time. His knees and resolve were weak but he didn't want to disappoint her. He had given up control of his own body to this woman who held such sway over him. Satisfied that he had obeyed her commands she decided to put him out of his misery. She compressed the delicate testis in the palm of her hand and could feel him instantly explode in her throat. Chris' hands moved of their own volition to grasp Sarah's ponytail and hold her close as he let out a guttural moan and pumped jet after jet of cum into her waiting mouth. She swallowed every drop. When she felt him soften a bit she withdrew, licking a few tiny drops that had leaked out from the tip. 

Sarah could feel him trembling and guided him carefully to sit in the chair. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, overcome with a flood of emotions. She ran her fingers through his hair, comforting him. She knew toll of being a submissive took on the psyche, she knew what he was experiencing. It was something that Cat had neglected for her own sadistic pleasure.

"You're a good boy," she murmured. He sat in the chair, unable to move, feeling a mixture of joy, sorrow, pain, defeat and sweet release. Sarah helped him to get his clothes back on, buttoning his trousers and pulling his shirt carefully over his head. Satisfied at his state of dress, she tucked her own t-shirt into her pants and buttoned her chef coat. "Just sit here for a minute," she said, rubbing his shoulder consolingly, "I have to go check on the guys." She took her keys and left him alone in the office as his mind raced, struggling with what had just happened. As the door clicked closed behind her, a single tear slid down his cheek. 

'This is what it's supposed to be like,' he told himself. Cat had wielded her power over him with malice and anger, Sarah with kindness, guidance and support. He had surrendered to Sarah and she took him to a place where sanity and thought fell away. The world had disappeared and left the two of them in their own little corner with nothing but the sensations and emotions of the moment. His head spun as reality reformed around him and he sat alone in a small office in a restaurant kitchen. 

"Hey, where's Chris?" Johnny asked Sarah when she had rejoined her crew ages after leaving them to do paperwork.

"Oh, yeah, he's in the office, resting his head. He didn't feel good all of a sudden so I told him to just take a load off for a minute," she lied. Johnny knew Sarah better than any other person here, sometimes better than she knew herself and he knew she was lying but he didn't push it.

"Hope the little dude feels better," Johnny said. A short while later Chris emerged from the office, composure restored. "Hey, dude, what happened?" Johnny asked, striking the apprentice on the back in a brotherly manner. Sarah glared at Johnny and shoved him away. 

"I told you he wasn't feeling well and you gotta go hit him," Sarah chastised Johnny, giving Chris a dose of motherly love. 

"Yeah, I guess I just got a bit queasy," he said, not a good liar at all. 

"You gonna sit this one out?" Sarah asked.

"And let you guys have all the fun?" he retorted.

Sarah smiled and set him to task cutting potatoes. "You can be potato bitch for today. Take it easy."

Chris nodded and took up a paring knife, quartering small red potatoes and dunking them into a bucket of cool water. Dinner went smoothly with Mark, Sarah and Johnny working the line, Chris helping out with dessert orders as needed. When the rather uneventful dinner service ended they started cleaning up. Chris put away the cut potatoes and wiped down his station, his mind still deep in thought. 

"Hey, Chris, gimme a hand in the walk-in," Sarah asked, her voice piercing his troubled thoughts. He joined her in the refrigerator and noticed Johnny was standing there as well. 

"Hey, what do you need, Sarah?" he asked nervously.

"Turn around and lift up your shirt," she said. Chris looked at Johnny and then back at Sarah. "Did you not hear me? I said take off your shirt," she commanded. He nodded and acquiesced, lifting his shirt carefully over the stinging welts on his back.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Johnny exclaimed.

"Cat Callahan," Sarah said simply. 

"Wait, how do you know Cat-o-Nine-Tails?" Johnny asked, using the nickname she had been given in the S&M circles.

"She's my English teacher," Chris answered, head hung low. He felt Johnny's finger follow one of the marks and winced. He could hear and feel Sarah slap his hand away. She bent over and kissed one of the marks, helping him put his shirt back on with minimal pain and discomfort. 

"When you come into work we'll help you put some more A&D ointment on them until they heal up. Please promise me you won't go see her again," Sarah pleaded, a twinge of pain in her voice. Chris nodded.



Extracurricular Activities Ch. 06



The weekend went by without much incident. Chris worked hard at the restaurant and Sarah took care of his wounds at the end of his shift. Johnny would peek his head in the office and see how he was healing up. The veterans would look on at Chris' back; Johnny would say something like 'How could a kid take that?' and Sarah would tell him that he was a good boy. Chris brushed their comments off, he had blocked out most of the pain as it was happening, choosing instead to focus on something else like how happy he must have been making Cat as he took her punishment. Now he knew better. Now he knew that she was just a sadist, a woman who degraded and used men. 

His heart was filled with sorrow. He hadn't seen Leslie outside of school since Wednesday when Cat had whipped him. They had their tryst in the darkroom on Thursday, but he longed to hold her in his arms. He didn't want her to see the marks on his back and think he was a freak. She texted him and asked him if he wanted to go out. He would reply back that he had plans or was feeling tired or Sarah wanted him to come in early. He hated lying to her. Sunday Chris spent his day off hiding in his room, curled up under his blankets, watching TV. There was a knock at his door and his heart skipped a beat as his tattooed lover poked her head in.

"Hey," she said softly, the sound of her voice making him want to melt. "Still not feeling well?" she asked as she entered his bedroom and closed the door behind her.

"Yeah, sorry," he lied, "Sarah's been running me ragged since Thursday and I think I'm fighting off some bug that's going around." 

Leslie smiled and lifted the covers, curling up with him. His senses were assaulted with the very essence of her; her scent, her soft skin, the visage of her body as it fit so perfectly within his. He sighed and pulled her closer, the two whiling away the hours in each other's arms.

Chris had drifted off to sleep and awoke to find himself alone. Alone: apparently the theme of the week. He rolled onto his back, the healing welts still causing that now familiar sting.

Monday Chris rode to school, suffered through History and English and quickly darted out of class, avoiding Cat. He ate lunch with Leslie, walked her to her class and then raced to Biology, followed by P.E. class. He ran around the track for a bit, clearing his head of his nagging thoughts about Ms. Callahan. Changing early, he ran to Leslie's locker to wait for her. He offered Leslie a ride home, dropping her off and heading to his own house for homework, dinner and sleep. 

Tuesday started off the same. As Chris was about to leave English class, Cat stopped him and delayed his exit. He sighed and waited for the rest of the class to let out before going over to her desk.

"Chris, this Wednesday evening I'm scheduled to do a demo at a club. My previous assistant can't make it. I'm going to need you to do it," she said nonchalantly as she packed up her things. She treated it like she was a magician and he was just supposed to hold some props while she waved a magic wand. Abracadabra! He knew her intentions were to beat him or humiliate him or both!

"I can't Ms. Callahan. I have plans Wednesday night," he lied.

She looked into his eyes with a coldness that chilled him to his soul, "You better cancel them or I'll make your life a living hell. For starters I'll fail you in this class," she threatened. Chris gulped hard, trying the quell the nausea he felt as his stomach churned. He nodded to his teacher and turned to leave. "Meet me at my house at seven sharp! Wear something nice!" she hollered.

He was silent and motionless as he sat with Leslie for lunch. The gears were turning in his head, his brain trying to fathom what his sadistic teacher had in store for him. The bell rang, wrenching him from his thoughts. He grabbed his untouched slice of pizza and moved to get up but a soft hand touched his shoulder.

"What's wrong, Chris?" Leslie's melodious voice asked, her concern genuine. "You haven't been yourself since last Thursday. Was it something I did," she said referring to their rendezvous in the darkroom. He looked at her big doe eyes and her bottom lip jutting out in an irresistible pout and he visibly softened. Chris' mind was still so burdened but he knew she would make him feel better. He grabbed the small of her back and pulled her close, frenching her deeply. He didn't give a shit who saw as he probed her mouth with his tongue in the middle of the cafeteria. He could feel her heart pounding through her chest. He could smell the scent of her perfume. He could taste her sweet mouth.

Reluctantly they both broke the kiss before it escalated into something they'd really get in trouble for. "Leslie, you could never do anything wrong," he professed. The woman blushed pink, her hair matching her face. She pecked him on the cheek and scampered to class. As soon as she was out of sight Chris heard the bell ring. He cursed, threw his pizza away and ran to History class. Thankfully there was a substitute who hadn't yet made it to the G's when calling roll. He slipped in unnoticed and raised his hand when the teacher called 'Chris Gaiten.'

The final bell rang and Chris was once again waiting for Leslie by her locker. She smiled and blushed and he offered to give her a ride home. They left together in his old Toyota, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh as he drove. He loved how she could make everything better with just a touch, a simple smile or a few words of encouragement. He wanted to be so much more for her; a protector, a confidant, a lover.

As he pulled up to her house, Leslie sighed pitifully. No one was home at her house again and she'd be spending most of the night alone. Chris, sending her apprehension and loneliness, put his hand on hers and spoke cheerfully, "I'm off tonight and I don't have any homework, wanna go see a movie?" he suggested. She smiled and asked him to wait a minute. Not being a very girlie girl, he was a bit taken aback when she came out with a fairly large black purse. He just shrugged it off until she began pulling bags of chips and boxes of candy from it. He laughed as she showed off her stash spread out across her lap.

"The snacks at the theater are always so expensive! I've got Runts and M&Ms and some little bags of potato chips," she said, rattling things off as she put them bag in her bag. They arrived at the theater and bought tickets for the afternoon matinée of a zombie film. Leslie loved the blood and guts and gore and Chris, while enjoying the movie too, was just glad to make her happy. The roughly two hours at the movies went by so quickly and soon they were headed back towards Leslie's house. 

Chris escorted her to her empty house. He wanted so badly to take her upstairs and ravage her, but his timidness made making the first move a Herculean feat. Always the gentleman, he kissed her on the cheek and wished her a good evening. He headed home himself, his mind reverting back to Cat's request for his company the following day, the ball of nervousness reappearing in his stomach. 

He went to his room and flicked on the TV, hoping for a mindless distraction. After a while, his mom knocked on the door and told him dinner was ready. He ate and told his parents he wouldn't be home until late tomorrow, working on a project with his friend Tyler. He hated lying in general, but lying to his family was a task he particularly loathed. He couldn't tell them he was going to a club tomorrow to potentially be abused by his English teacher to avoid failing her class. After dinner he wet to his room to pack a bag for tomorrow evening.

"What do you wear to a fetish club?" he asked himself aloud. He threw his shiny leather dress shoes in the bottom of the back pack with a pair of black socks and a leather belt. He spied his silk shirt and added it to his bag with his nicest dress pants and a silver-colored tie. Curling up under his blankets for the night, he tried to sleep. Two hours later when sleep finally found him, it was fitful and frightful. 

~~~~~

Chris arrived at Cat's house at a quarter to seven. The gates were open and he drove up the driveway and parked his old Toyota behind a sleek new Porche Carrera. He would have given his right nut to be able to drive that car to the club. Getting out he climbed the few stairs on the porch that led to the front door. As he moved to ring the bell, the door swung open and Cat pulled him inside roughly. She was dressed in a severe-looking shiny black and red latex corset and skirt set. Her patent leather boots went all the way up her thigh and her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She looked him up and down, not satisfied with the outfit he had chosen.

"Is that the only thing you have to wear to a fetish club? A pair of polyester trousers and a cheap silk dress shirt?" she said, degrading him a bit. He wanted to shout that he was only a kid but knew it would only serve to make her angry. He apologized that he had nothing else to wear. She took him down the hall to a door just past the dungeon. Cat opened the door and pulled him inside, flicking on the recessed lighting built into the ceiling.

The room was a giant walk-in closet. One side seemed to be devoted to her dominatrix clothing; lots of black latex, leather and lace. The other side had all kinds of outfits from typical male fetish wear to sissy maid uniforms to big diapers. She rifled through the hangers until she found what she was looking for. Throwing a pair of black leather pants at him she told him to strip and put them on. He took off his shoes and pants and began putting the leather on over his boxers. She glared at him.

"You can't fucking wear boxers under leather pants!" she said, irritated. He took all of his clothes off this time and pulled the pants up on his waist. The leather felt like butter on his skin and he enjoyed it as it caressed his manhood. She pulled a blood red silk shirt off the rack and gave it to him to put on. This silk put his cheaper one to shame with it's softness. He pulled his tie over his head, slid his dress shoes on and looked to his mistress for approval. She nodded and opened a drawer. Inside was a collection of collars and she picked a black one with a matte finish and shiny steel buckle and fastened it around his neck. She clipped a leather lead to the D ring and finally seemed satisfied with his appearance.

Cat led him to the Porche in the driveway. Being a gentleman, he opened the driver's side door for her and helped her get in. Jogging to the other side, he climbed in, the car so low to the ground that it was hard for a man so tall to get in and out of it. Turning the key in the ignition, the auto roared to life. She shifted the standard transmission into gear and sped off down the path towards the main road. Cat drove the car well but Chris would have loved to have been the one pounding the clutch and taking the tight turns. It would have helped to take his mind off the uncertainty of the evening's events. 

His stomach turned as he thought about her words to him. 'Was she going to flog him in public?' he asked himself. 'It couldn't be as bad as when she did it in private, there'd be witnesses,' he thought. He wanted to throw up, to open the car door and roll out onto the street below to escape this sadistic woman. 

They exited the highway and pulled into town. It wasn't long before they had arrived in front of a very nondescript building with a doorman and valet waiting for them. The doorman, a burly white guy dressed in a three-piece suit opened the door for Chris while the valet in a red shirt and black slacks went to the driver's side and helped Cat from the car.

"Take good care of my baby, Jack," she said, handing off the keys to the young valet. She grabbed Chris' leash and led him inside. The club was set up as a semi-circle. Center stage was a bright spot along the back flat wall, several lights positioned to illuminate the main attraction. The rest of it was dimly lit with couches and large soft ottomans that could have doubled as beds in a pinch. The shadows were filled with people in various fetish attire, mostly in shades of red and black, the uniform for the bondage scene. Chris looked around, some of the patrons were wearing masks to hide their faces and he wondered what they had to hide. 

Soft classical music played as Chris made his way to the platform where a St. Andrew's Cross was affixed. He continued to scan the crowd, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter, all eyes on him. He spotted a flash of royal blue, a woman in a blue corset and short black mini skirt sat close to the stage. She stood out like a sore thumb in such a rich color. Her eyes met his. 

Johnny had to hold Sarah down as she struggled to get up so she could go to Chris. Both Chris and Johnny were unsure if it was to free him or wring his neck. Johnny spoke to her softly and held her close as Chris marched onward towards his fate at the hands of Cat-o-Nine-Tails. They stood near the cross and a gentleman in chain mail and leather chaps came out.

"Welcome my unconventional conventionists!" he said, quoting Rocky Horror Picture Show. "Tonight is sure to be a most entertaining night. Miss Cat has brought us her newest slave and this one's a real masochist!" he announced. "So everyone just sit back, relax and enjoy!"

Cat took her cue and bowed to the assembly. She pulled him roughly by the leash and brought him closer to the cross. He assumed the position and she ripped his shirt off dramatically and strapped him down. He figured if he obeyed her and gave her no reason to be angry that she would be more lenient. Sarah sat on her ottoman, with Johnny at her feet, fuming. Johnny had reminded her that Chris was a grown adult, capable of making his own decisions. 

"There must be another reason," she whispered into Johnny's ear through clenched teeth.

The emcee rolled out a cart that looked like an ornate table on wheels. On top were various whips, paddles, floggers and the like. The crowd was transfixed as the young man sat tied to the cross, Cat contemplating which she would use first. Cat grasped a heavy wooden paddle in her hands and came close to Chris. Winding up, the plank made a resounding crack as it struck the flesh on his bony behind. The noise was harsher than the blow, the sound causing him to jump. The crowd drew in a collective gasp as he took two more in quick succession.

She bored easily of the paddle; it was much more fun to chase someone with it than to hit someone while their were immobilized. Stalking back to the cart, Cat picked up a leather flogger, testing the feel of it through the air. He waited in anticipation for the first strike that landed on his shoulder. It wasn't too harsh and he relaxed into it. It felt like a deep tissue massage; the pressure was deep and the sting from the tassels warmed his back. 

'If this is how it's going to be, I can withstand it,' he reassured himself, lowering his head and taking the abuse. A sudden sharp crack came across his back that echoed through the club, the pain snapping him out of his moment of reflection. He howled at the sudden onslaught. He didn't know where she had gotten the riding crop, its lash marks glowing crimson across his newly healed back. The audience was wrapped up in the drama that was unfolding before them. Sarah was on the edge of her seat, restrained by Johnny again. A few more strikes and a few more stripes and she discarded the flogger and crop onto the floor. Chris panted, his back smarting. 

A sinister smile crept over her face as Cat perused the cart and made her selection but Chris could tell by the look on the other patrons' faces that it wasn't good. He could see Sarah on the verge of tears, struggling to get to him, Johnny looking away as he held Sarah back with all the strength in his body. Without warning, he heard the bull whip crack and the tail left an instant welt on his back. The pain was excruciating. It felt as if he were being stabbed. He would have screamed had the pain not stolen the air from his lungs. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape, his mind trying to make sense of what was going on. There was no escaping into the recesses of his mind for this one.

As the whip whizzed through the air and connected along the small of his back, his body writhed in agony. He closed his eyes and forced back tears. He swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip to avoid shouting his safe word. Trying to collect his thoughts, he was interrupted by another strike from the bull whip. He shouted a loud and long "FUCK!" as he shook in his bonds. The whole assembly was silent, all on edge, feeling like something was not right about all this. They looked to Domme in blue, held down by her submissive, for the confirmation they needed. Another dominant would not have such a lack of decorum during an exposition unless something was wrong. The emcee was about to put a halt to it all when Cat struck her submissive three times, hard enough to draw blood each time.

Sarah roared, grabbed Johnny by the throat and threw him to the ground. He lay there sputtering as she rushed to the stage and tackled Cat. Seizing the whip, she wrenched it from the sadistic dominatrix. Sarah straddled Cat and with her hands on either side of the long handle, she pressed it to the woman's windpipe and bore down on it, intending to strangle the evil woman. 

The crowd was shocked. Johnny got up, coughing, and tried to pull Sarah off Cat. It took Johnny, the emcee and another strong Dom to keep the woman in blue from killing Chris' assailant. When finally wrestled off, Sarah ran to Chris, adrenaline pumping. Her young apprentice was suspended by his restraints, his knees giving out after the second blow. Blood trickled down his back, his face void of color. She motioned for help and two submissive men came over and hoisted Chris back up, holding him there while Sarah unfastened the bonds that kept him aloft. Freed, he slumped over, his whole body awash in suffering and anguish. They lowered him gingerly onto the floor on his side and Sarah sat near his head, tears streaming down her face as she stroked the young man's head.

Johnny looked on at his distraught lover and young friend and the fury welled up inside him. "What did you do?" he snarled at Cat.

"I didn't do anything he didn't want," she said coldly.

Johnny slapped her across the face and she looked at him in astonishment, "I know you better than that, Cat Callahan, I was once your slave too. You can do some sick and twisted shit to get your way. What did you do? Threaten him? Blackmail him?" he asked, his last question eliciting a flicker of response across her face. Johnny knew Cat too well for her own good. "You blackmailed him! You fucking cunt!" Johnny roared, the whole club's attention shifting from the injured boy crumpled on the floor to the angry submissive accusing extortion.

"Is that true?" Sarah whispered to Chris and he simply nodded, his body feeling in shock. The lynch mob formed around Cat and the emcee tried to calm everyone back down. She had broken the cardinal rules of 'Safe, Sane, Consensual' and the gang was out for blood. Chris stared in Sarah's eyes, warmed by her compassion for him. "Let's get out of here," Sarah said, "Can you get up?"

Chris pushed himself onto his hands and knees, wincing through the pain. Sarah called over the two men that helped out earlier and each one took an arm, gently and with care to not injure him further. They got Chris to his feet and held him up as he took his arduous steps out of the club. The door opened and the cool night air enveloped him, giving his hot skin some relief. Sarah motioned for Jack to go get her car. He pulled the blue Kia with the DRGNFLY license plates around and left the driver's door open for her. 

"What's going on in there," Jack asked, hearing the rabble inside. Johnny joined them outside and helped the two volunteers load the young man carefully into the car, resting him on his stomach along the length of the back seat. Chris felt as though he was going to throw up and breathed deeply to try and calm himself.




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 06



"Jack, can you get Chris' car?" Sarah asked, "Johnny's going to drive it back to my place for him."

"Miss Sarah, that guy came in Miss Cat's Porche," the valet said.

"Fuck! We're going to have to go to that bitch's house to get his car?!" Sarah cursed. "Jack, if those guys let Cat out any time soon, stall them for as long as possible," she instructed. "Johnny, let's get out of here before this place goes to hell and we all go to jail," she said, referring to her attempted murder of the Domme inside.

They sped off in the direction of Callahan Manor and they were lucky enough that the gate was open. Johnny got Chris' keys and started up the old Toyota, following Sarah back to her apartment. Getting the maimed boy into the car with three people was hard enough, getting him out with one was impossible. Sarah told him he was just going to have to bear through it. Chris nodded and crawled backwards out of the car, his back on fire. Once his feet were on the ground Johnny swung Chris' arm over his shoulder and they limped into Sarah's house. 

"Take him to my room, I'm gonna grab some things from the bathroom," Sarah instructed. Johnny obeyed and helped him to Sarah's room, laying the kid down on his stomach. Chris just rested there for a moment in the dark, laying across the bottom of Sarah's very plush California king bed. He heard Johnny step out and closed his eyes. Sarah was running water in the adjacent bathroom, Johnny asking how he could help. When they entered the room again, they flicked on the lights and Chris could hear the collective gasp as they looked at his back in proper light.

Sarah stifled a sob as she saw the patchwork of stripes with three bleeding lash marks in the form of a backwards 'Z', one more angry welt along the small of his back and another on his shoulder. Chris heard them take a few tentative steps closer and they they stopped, Sarah whispering into Johnny's ear. His heavier foot falls left the room while hers came closer. She sat a bucket of cool water on the floor at the foot of the bed and knelt down by his face. Wringing out a towel and pressing its coolness to his forehead she wiped away the sweat from his brow.

Johnny came back in, "This one, or this one?" Chris heard the older gentleman ask from behind him.

"Fuck, just give me both, I have a feeling we're gonna need 'em," she said. Chris heard the sound of liquid sloshing in glass bottles as he lay there with lidded eyes. "Chris, take a sip," Sarah said kindly as she unscrewed the cap and pressed the mouth of the bottle to his lips. He rolled onto his side a bit, his face contorting in discomfort with the effort of it. He felt the golden rum slide down his throat and nearly spit it out, the high proof alcohol leaving a burning aftertaste as he swallowed. She took a healthy swig after him to calm her nerves and then passed the bottle to Johnny who took two large gulps.

"Johnny, if you don't want to be here, you don't have to," Sarah said, standing to embrace her lover,"I can only imagine what you're feeling right now," she whispered. 

"I'm sorry babe, I don't know if I can deal with this right now. I'm gonna go sit in the living room. Holler if you need me," he said, taking another drink for the bottle, leaving Sarah and Chris in the bedroom. Sarah sat on the edge of the bed once more and fished a rag from the bucket and ringing it out. She folded it into quarters and applied it to his fairly unscathed shoulders. He sighed as the coolness hit him, providing much needed relief from the pain.

Chris could hear Sarah sniffle as she tended to his wounds. "I'm sorry," he said softly. She dipped and wrung out the towel again, pressing it to his back, sticking to the areas that weren't bleeding.

"Oh Chris, you don't need to be sorry!" she said. "Cat Callahan is an evil woman. When she wants something, she gets it. What did she say, that she'd fail you if you didn't go?" she asked, resting the cool towel on the back of his neck. Chris just nodded and laid there, relaxing as she soothed his pain with her gentle touches.

"Chris, this is going to hurt a bit," she said, wringing out the towel again. He nodded but wasn't prepared for the fresh torment he would receive at her hands. She took the wet cloth and wiped at the blood that had begun to dry on his wounds. He screamed and arched his back, trying to get away from the torture. She stopped and put the bottle to Chris' lips and he took three greedy gulps before she pulled it away, taking a sip herself. He hoped the rum would take affect soon and deaden his senses. Sarah got the cloth wet again and didn't wring it completely dry this time. 

She spread the cloth across his back and let the water rehydrate the dried on blood so she could wipe it off more easily. She climbed up onto the bed and laid alongside of his, stroking his face and running her fingers through his hair. He felt loved and cared for as he laid there and closed his eyes again, nodding off for just a moment.

"Chris, I need to clean you up and then you can go to bed," she explained.

"What time is it?" he asked, looking around for a clock. The digital alarm clocked glowed red and said '10:34.' "I need my cell phone so I can call my mom, she's probably worried."

Sarah nodded and left him alone in her room. Johnny peeked his head in silently and left again. He had so much empathy for the kid. Sarah returned with his phone and the pile of clothes from the front seat and put them near his head. He dialed his home number and his mother picked up.

"Hey mom, Tyler and I still have a bit more to do on this project, I'm just gonna crash here tonight and I can give Tyler a ride to school tomorrow," he said dishonestly. Sarah could hear his mom's muffled words through the earpiece, "Mom, You know my car is a mess. I probably have a whole wardrobe of clothes in my car and I can always borrow a clean shirt from Tyler," he explained to his mother, concerned about what he would wear. "I love you too Mom, night." He hung up the phone and laid his head back down.

"You ready for this?" Sarah asked, pulling the towel off his back and dipping it in the bucket of water, ringing it out fairly dry. Chris nodded and Sarah started to lightly wipe away the moist blood. He screamed obscenities and balled up his fists in her sheets and bit down on his lip until it almost bled. It took what felt like an eternity but she got one of the lash marks completely clean but there were still two more to go. 

"Let's take a break, she said, tossing the towel back into the bucket. "So how did you and Cat-o-Nine-Tails become involved, as it may be?" Chris sighed and told her about the English tutoring and finding her dungeon and her flogging him. He then explained the blackmail and brought her up to this evening's events. "I wouldn't worry too much about your grades now. I'll see to it that she gets some blackmail back. Johnny and I could ruin her life!"

"Why did Johnny leave, is he squeamish?"

"Johnny used to be Cat's submissive," Sarah said simply. "We all went to high school together in the next county over. He loved and adored her. They were kinky back then and would swap partners and go to fetish clubs. He did whatever she wanted, to make her happy. She went off to college in California and stopped returning his calls and completely wrote him out of her life. When her father passed and she moved back, Johnny sought to rekindle their love. He went to her house and found her with a client. He was furious. She told him that she still loved him and all was forgiven. He became her submissive and they were together for a few months, but he started to notice her cruelty towards him, towards all men in fact." 

Sarah took a deep breath, "You remember that guy I told you she had beaten into unconsciousness?" Chris nodded and Sarah continued, "Well, that was Johnny. One night he came to my house, rang the bell and collapsed at my doorstep. I opened the door and saw his bruised and bloody body and took him in. I was his boss, but I frequented those same clubs and had swapped my partner for Johnny a couple times. We had a connection and he felt safe with me. I cleaned him up, just as I am doing with you right now, and made him promise he would never see her again," she said reflectively. "Now what had you hoped to get from being Cat's slave? You just trying to get your rocks off with something new and kinky?" she asked her injured apprentice. 

Chris sighed, he had thought about this a lot. "I wanted her to help me open up and be less shy," he explained as Sarah picked up the rag and dabbed painfully at his sores. "I hoped that she would help me experience new things and get my confidence up and help break me out of this shell... FUCK!" he exclaimed as she touched a tender spot. Things were starting to get hazy, the rum helping to ease his pain, but she would occasionally hit a spot that made him cry out.

"So you wanted to be beaten within an inch of your life because you thought it would make you a ladies man? Look at Johnny, he got beat and he's still a loser!" she joked. "You need to find someone who can lead you where you want to go, not someone behind you, goading you into what they want you to be." Sarah's words rang true for Chris and as he laid there, he reflected. She wiped at his wounds some more, being as gentle as she could. 

When she was satisfied that she had gotten him as clean as possible, she pulled out a spray can and shook it up. 

Chris was about to ask what it was when the cool mist landed on his back and numbed it quite well. "Burn spray," Sarah commented, "It has aloe and vitamin E to help heal and benzocaine to numb you up!" She stepped back and looked at the submissive; his back was red and sore, his wounds highlighted by the glossy spray, his derrière clad in soft, sexy leather pants . If he wasn't so hurt, she would have fucked him right there. "You ready for bed?" she asked him. He nodded, his pain soothed, his mind fogged over with alcohol.

"We need to get you out of those pants," Sarah said lustily, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. Chris slid off the bed on his belly and unfastened the shiny leather. He peeled them from his body and they pooled at his feet. He stood there in front of her, half-hard from her lecherous stares. Sarah had to look away or she would end up pouncing him. She rummaged through his pile of clothes and threw his boxers at his head. Sliding them onto his body he sat back down on the edge of the bed, his back aching. "Johnny, bed time!" she shouted into the living room. The TV turned off and his heavy footsteps could be heard in the kitchen. "Chris, I have some prescription painkillers if you want one, it might help you sleep," she offered.

Chris shook his head, but spied the bottle of rum on the floor. He bent down sorely and grasped the bottle by the neck, twisting off the cap and taking a few gulps before Sarah snatched it away. Johnny came in with a glass of water for Sarah and she smiled and gratefully took a few sips. Digging through her bedside table she pulled out a bottle of Advil. "At least take these," she said putting two pills in his hand, "They'll help with the hangover you're going to have tomorrow!"

Chris stole her glass of water and downed half of it with the over-the-counter medicine. Sarah pulled the covers down and helped Chris onto the middle of the bed. "Hey, where am I gonna sleep? I ain't spoonin' no dude!" Johnny said, pouting.

"I told you something was wrong. I knew it the moment Chris stepped foot in that club with Cat but you stopped me. You told me he was a 'grown adult capable of making his own decisions.' You of all people should have know how devious that woman can be," she said, upset but not angry, "For that, you can sleep at the end of the bed." 

Johnny shrugged and grabbed his pillow and flopped down at the end of the bed as if he'd done it a million times. 'Knowing Sarah, she probably makes him sleep down there all the time,' Chris thought to himself. She pulled out a blanket and covered Johnny tenderly and kissed him on the lips. She slipped out of her corset and black mini shirt, throwing them wherever they may land. She wore only a pair of black panties under her club outfit. Chris grew a little harder at the sight of her. 

Sarah climbed into bed and wiggled close to Chris, the two sleeping on their sides. Sarah could feel his erection pressed against her thighs and smiled. "Time for bed, Chris and Little Chris," she said, chiding him and his cock. Johnny let out a chuckle and Chris blushed. She pulled a body pillow between her legs and the covers over the two of them, only up to Chris' waist as not to irritate his sore back. Turning off the light, she closed her eyes and settled in. He wrapped an arm tentatively over her and she whispered, "That's a good boy." He pulled her closer and inhaled her perfumed hair, vanilla. Chris looked down at her as they cuddled together. She laid there, eyes closed, breathing softly and sucking her thumb, he chuckled softly. It didn't take long before he was out cold and the three slept together the whole night through. 



Extracurricular Activities Ch. 07



(This is the seventh chapter in a rather long series I have written. It will stand on it's own but there will be better context if you read all the previous chapters. Enjoy and please comment and share!) 

*

Chris woke alone in the giant bed to the savory odor of frying bacon. His stomach grumbled, empty for the past twenty-four hours, and bid him to get out of bed in search of the origin of the delicious smell. He threw off the covers and moved quickly, too quickly for the wounds he forgot about on his back. He screamed obscenities and his eyes misted up.

'How could I have forgotten about last night?' he thought. Remembering the copious amounts of rum he imbibed, he figured out why. He eased out of bed, sore and aching, hobbling towards the kitchen. Her flat was pretty big, the entire second floor of a three-floor apartment building. Her bedroom was at the end of a long hall, next to it on the left side was the door to the bathroom that he had heard them running water in the night before. There were a few more rooms on the right side, closed doors, and then the hall opened up into a very large eat-in kitchen and open living room. The cupboards were white with glass fronts that revealed their contents. All of her plates were all different colors, her kitchen appliances matching the rainbow theme. In the center was an island that doubled as a breakfast bar.

He was greeted first by Johnny as he sipped his coffee, checking websites on Sarah's computer. Sarah was at the stove wearing only a tight t-shirt and her sexy black panties as she flipped sizzling bacon in the pan.

"Morning man," Johnny greeted, "Want a cup of coffee?"

Chris shook his head, coffee would have been a bad choice on such an empty stomach. "Fuck, what time is it?" Chris asked.

"Ten thirty," Johnny said, not gazing up from his work on the computer.

"Shit! I'm so late for school!" The young man said, starting to panic.

"Relax," Sarah said reassuringly. "I already called your school, pretended to be your mom, told them you had food poisoning from dinner out at Renaissance Bistro," she said, throwing a rival restaurant under the bus. Chris chuckled and then groaned, the pain in his back erupting with the effort of it all. He felt better overall, the nearly twelve hours of sleep doing him some good. He came up behind Sarah and spied on her as she cooked. The fat in the pan popped and she jumped out of the way of the hot grease droplet. She pulled the nearly crispy bacon out of the pan with tongs, transferring it to a paper towel-lined plate.

"You know you could have cooked that bacon in the oven and not had all that splatter. This one woman taught me how to do it. You could learn a lot from her," he joked referring to what she had taught him on his first day at the Black Bear.

"Yes, but if I did that, I couldn't do this," she said cracking half a dozen eggs into the pan with the rendered fat. The eggs sizzled wildly and Chris actually moaned aloud. She seasoned the eggs with salt and pepper and with a flick of the wrist, flipped the whole mass without breaking any of the yolks. She turned off the gas and let the heat of the pan continue cooking the eggs gently. Chris' stomach growled noisily, grabbing the attention of the other two in the kitchen.

"I'm starving!" he groaned as the others stared. "I didn't eat lunch and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep dinner down, so I didn't even bother trying. Then I drank a shit-load of rum and slept!" he said, justifying his belly's racket.

"Why don't you pull the fruit salad out of the fridge and some bread out for toast," she suggested. The fruit salad looked fresh and delicious; ruby-red strawberries, juicy pieces of melon and the scent of zesty ginger. The bread was thick-cut and full of whole oats and seeds. He put four slices into the toaster and got out some butter and jam he had spotted in the refrigerator door. When the toasted bread popped up, he smeared it with butter, pressed the buttered sides together into two portions and cut them in half, placing them on two of the plates Sarah was setting up. Four more pieces went in the toaster as he helped Sarah clear away some of the cooking dishes. They sat at bar stools at the island in her kitchen. Chris munched happily on his four slices of toast, slathered jam on two, using the other slices to make a rather large sandwich. He loaded up on fresh fruit, the ginger helping to calm his stomach after the sudden onslaught of food. Johnny and Sarah merely watched and laughed as he vacuumed up the contents of his plate.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"Physically or emotionally?" he asked, not waiting for an answer, "Bruised and broken." Johnny put a comforting hand on his shoulder, avoiding any sore spots. It meant a lot to Chris that he was not alone in all this, that he had camaraderie with Johnny.

"Chris, Johnny and I were talking this morning and we've come to a decision," Sarah said as Chris continue to eat. "I want to take you under my wing and give you what Cat couldn't." Chris stopped mid-bite, a piece of bacon sticking out of his mouth.

"What?" he said, swallowing hard.

Johnny laughed and Sarah continued, "I want you to be my submissive. I'd be your Mistress and even though Johnny's a sub too, he'd be Master to you. We could have training on Sundays after Johnny and I get done with brunch at Black Bear. I know I can help crack open that shell of yours, guide you and help you learn to trust yourself and others." Sarah speared a piece of egg on her fork as Chris mulled over. The wheels were turning as he contemplated her offer. He really wanted her help but didn't want to change their working relationship. As if reading his mind she said, "Nothing will change at the restaurant. You will come here and be my submissive, everywhere else you will be Chris, high school student, kitchen apprentice and dork," she added, making Johnny chuckle.

Chris finished his breakfast and wiped his face with a napkin. He took a while contemplating the implications of all she had to offer. He stared at her as she finished her breakfast. She was strong and domineering yet he felt safe with her. She had rescued him from an evil woman, tended to his wounds with love and compassion twice now. She had never hurt him, physically or emotionally. Sarah looked up from her now empty plate and her eyes met his. With a small smile from the woman, he softened. He experienced an intense feeling of trust wash over him. Her hand touched his lightly, electricity flowing though his body.

"Mistress," he started, making her cheeks flush with excitement, "Please..." he trailed off, unable to convey his thoughts.

"What is it slave?" she asked, urging him to break down the barriers keeping him from taking part in all life had to offer. She got down from her bar stool and stood next to him, her body so close to his, the heat of her so close, so palpable. Her soft hands touched him gently, one on his forearm, the other on the small of his back, the action subtly leading and guiding his mind to demand what he wanted. "Slave, tell me what you want," she whispered in his ear.

The word 'slave' described him perfectly. He was a slave to the demons holding him back, a slave to his feelings of shyness and inadequacy. He groaned but couldn't say it, couldn't bring himself to seize the opportunity in front of him. Sarah could see the emotional upheaval as it played across his face. "Slave, tell me what you want," she repeated, her face lingering by his ear, her soft breath tickling his neck.

"I... I want... I," he stammered. She placed her lips softly on the nape of his neck, giving the lightest of kisses, murmuring 'tell me' quietly. He felt incensed that he couldn't say what he wanted, heavyhearted with the feelings of insecurity that enslaved him. Johnny, empathetic to Chris' internal conflict, put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Sarah's hand on his forearm slid down to entwine her fingers with her apprentice's. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Like ripping off a bandage, he spoke. "Mistress," he exhaled, "Make me your slave."

"I can't make you do anything," she said, unsatisfied with his response, "You have to give yourself to me," she said, her words eating their way into his brain. He groaned and slammed his fist down on the counter, the loud noise seemingly going unnoticed by the two on either side of him. "Give yourself to me," she said softly, almost pleading. He bit back the tears that threatened to overtake him. Anger, hope, sorrow, love, gratitude and grief coalesced in his mind. Her kiss on his cheek pulled him from his thoughts, "Give yourself to me."

"Fuck!" he roared. Her eyes gazed into his, filled with compassion and love. "Mistress, I give myself to you!" he shouted, feeling as if he had just climbed to the top of a mountain. He slumped with the mental effort of it all.

Johnny grinned, "Have fun you two," he said, still surfing the web.

Sarah smiled and grasped a fistful of Chris' hair, pulling his head back, exposing his neck. She roughly kissed the spot where his jugular vein throbbed below the skin, her teeth and tongue on the erogenous zone. She could feel the blood as it pulsed through, feel how fast his heart was pounding. His eyes rolled back in his head as he panted. Breaking the kiss, she took him by the hand and led him down the hall towards her bedroom, detouring at the door to the left of it. She threw him into it and he stumbled, falling to his knees.

He looked around at the playroom, not as well-appointed and opulent as Cat's dungeon, but he preferred the aesthetic of this one more. Cat had store-bought, uninspired-looking junk that lined the walls. Sarah had hand-made, one of a kind pieces that reflected her quirkiness. The walls were covered in sound-absorbing foam, something that wasn't necessary at Cat's house, being so secluded. There was a tall armoire on one wall and a twin bed with an iron frame on another wall, the rest of the room fairly open, only a few items strewn about on the floor. There were hooks hanging from the ceiling, obvious care being taken to secure them well with bolts drilled into the beams under the stucco. She didn't have any big pieces like benches or crosses like Cat had, but there was a chest on the floor and a few tie-downs embedded in the walls.

Sarah clicked the dead bolt on the door, the sound causing him to whip his head towards her, and she smiled down at her new slave. He was dressed only in a pair of boxers, on his knees, his back to her, his welts and wounds still so vivid from the night before. His face had taken on a look of fright and apprehension, the vulnerableness making her so turned on. She walked over to a small table with a set of speakers on it, her iPod plugged in. Using her thumb, she scrolled through the music and settled on a playlist she had made. Soft, modern instrumental music streamed from the speakers, filling the room with sound. She walked over to her slave and ran her fingers through his hair as he sat at her feet.

"Relax," she said in a way that immediately soothed him. "Sit back," she directed, helping him from all fours into a kneeling position where his butt rested on his muscular calves. She put her bare foot in between his knees and urged him to spread his legs, his butt now on the floor, putting him in a weaker stance. "Go ahead and put your hands behind your back, use one hand to hold the other wrist," she said and he complied, "Let's call this the 'sitting' position," she said. His demeanor changed with her gentle guidance. He struggled with emotions of fear and defenselessness. Her hand caressed his face and he leaned into her touch, looking for comfort and consolation. She stepped in front of him, her hand still on his cheek, her panty-clad pussy so teasingly close. Chris could tell she was aroused, the scent of her womanhood filling his senses. "Why don't you show your mistress some gratitude for agreeing to train you," she said.

He understood the implications of her words and began licking her lips through the black lace, tasting the moisture that had seeped through. She purred as she looked down at him, his eyes closed as he worked on pleasing the woman before him. She hooked her index fingers into either side of the waistband and slid the lace from her rear, wiggling out of her panties. He took in the sight of her pussy, that single triangular patch of well-trimmed hair seemingly pointing the way to her honey pot. He dove in, licking and sucking her clit. Her knees weakened but she stopped him, pushing his face away.

"Take your time with it, take your cues from your lover," she instructed, "Tease me, make me want to beg for your tongue," she said, guiding his face back to her slit. Chris' tongue stuck out of his mouth, flicking at the moisture that clung to her pussy lips and she cooed, relaxing with his touches. He would circle the hood that shielded her sensitive clit, occasionally dipping it in and licking at the juices. She spread her legs a bit, opening her flower to his exploring tongue. Making contact with her clit, his tongue made her moan. He brought a hand up to her crotch and she shook her head. "Just wait a bit longer," she groaned and he stopped himself. He rested his hand on the curve of her ass, feeling the muscles tighten as she tried to remain standing through his ministrations. She steadied herself by placing both her hands on his head for support.

His tongue probed her nether regions, circling her clit, fucking her tight hole. Sarah lifted her left leg and rested her thigh on his right shoulder, allowing him deeper access to her pussy. Her foot would touch one of the angry welts on his back from time to time, reminding him of the dull ache there. He sucked at her fully-exposed clit, flicking the tip of his tongue across the hard nub. Sarah bucked and he smiled. Opening his mouth wider, he nursed on her pussy, lapping hard at her little button. She groaned, her mouth in the shape of an 'O', her eyes closed tightly. His teeth grazed the sensitive bump and she squealed, her first orgasm crashing over her. He was surprised by how suddenly it had happened, how it had crept up and now she was writhing on him. He held her hips, as she bucked, not wanting her to fall.

"Good boy," she panted, gazing down at him through the afterglow of her climax. "I'm going to show you how to make me cum," she said.

'I thought I just did,' he told himself.

"Take your two fingers like this," she said, showing her first and middle fingers, "And put them inside me." He did as he was told and she moaned loudly. "Now," she panted, "Make a 'come hither' kind of motion, up towards my belly button," she said, demonstrating in the air for him. He obeyed, finding a pea-sized bump there inside her and she growled and nodded. "Don't stop!" He continued to stroke her and moved his head closer to suck her clit. His tongue touched her and she immediately screamed, arched her back and came on his face, covering his chin and neck with her juices. Her knee weakened and Chris grabbed her by the waist using his free hand with lightning-fast reflexes, easing her tumble to the ground in orgasmic bliss.

His other hand was still buried knuckle-deep in her wet snatch as an evil idea overcame him. He continued to caress the highly sensitive spot inside her, causing her to groan. Her body writhed under him, his cock beyond hard as he brought his mistress closer to her third orgasm in such a short period of time. Sarah shook her head no and moaned 'stop' but he could tell she was enjoying it, her face a mask of pleasure. She let her knees fall open, exposing herself fully to his wanton stare. Her pussy was drenched in her own juices as he continued to finger her. Her chest heaved, her beautiful full breasts rising and falling with each labored breath. He thought only of pleasing her as he wriggled his fingers inside her.

He could feel her climax building, her pussy tightened on his long fingers. The music was also reaching its crescendo, the bass notes seemingly syncing up with his own heartbeat. He looked down at his mistress, proud of how much pleasure he had brought her. Suddenly every muscle in her body stiffened and she let out a guttural moan that he was sure Johnny could hear through the sound-proofing foam. She squirted on his fingers again, her pussy pulsating rhythmically. He let her ride his hand through her orgasm, still stroking the spot she had shown him. She squealed and closed her legs, rolling over to escape him.

"Thank you Mistress," he said, greedily lapping up her juices that coated his fingertips. She laid on the floor, unable to move, struggling to breathe and he smiled.

"You've been a bad boy," she growled from the fetal position. Chris looked at his mistress, noticing her words did not accurately convey the look of elation on her face.

"I'm sorry Mistress," he said casually, still licking his hands clean. She rolled onto all fours and crawled towards, a glint in her eye. When she got near him, she lapped up the cum that still covered his face like a kitten.

"I'm going to have to punish you," she said as she licked at his neck, causing him to shudder. She grabbed his nipple roughly and twisted it. Chris yelped and jerked away, unsure where this was heading. She smiled at the change in his demeanor and got up, still in her t-shirt, pussy and ass exposed as she walked towards the wardrobe on the far wall. She opened the double doors and Chris could see some of the contents within. There were paddles and floggers hanging from hooks screwed to the inside of the doors and shelves built in with all sorts of sex toys. Dildos, vibrators, butt plugs of every shape, size and color occupied two shelves with some medieval torture devices on the bottom ledge.

"Take off your boxers and get into the sitting position," she said, reminding him of his training earlier. He sat naked with his legs spread, his cock pointing proudly towards the ceiling, his hands behind his back. Sarah grabbed a leather collar, similar to the one he had worn the night before at the hands of the sadistic Domme. Chris looked away, not wanting such a reminder around his neck. Sensing his fear as it filled the room, she reassessed the situation. "Chris, are you okay?" she asked. When he nodded, she slapped him on the face, "Don't fucking lie to me," she sneered. "You need to be completely honest with me because I will be nothing but honest with you. This is serious stuff here, not some kinky fantasy bull shit. Without trust, it won't work... for either of us," she said, looking deep into his brown eyes. "Do you trust me?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yes Mistress," he said, eyes lowered submissively.

"Tell me you trust me," she commanded softly, "And don't lie to me!" She seized his chin and forced him to look her in the eye.

"I trust you Mistress," he said, his eyes a bit misty.

"You have to trust me," she said, kneeling and dropping the collar into her lap. "I'm going to take you to some places that make you uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally. You have to trust that I have your best interests in mind and that I will never truly hurt you. You will feel pain at times. Your heart with ache with sorrow and longing at times. But know that I will never hurt you... never hurt you like Cat did," she added. He could feel tears form in the corners of his eyes. He had to look away, to keep up the facade of strength and masculinity. Boys don't cry.

It was Sarah that had rescued this beaten and tortured man, that had nursed his wounds, that was now guiding him down a path of surrender and helplessness. He was now walking the very ambiguous line between obeying and being freed. With servitude came liberation. With pain came pleasure; such paradoxical ideas.

"Will you accept this collar as a symbol of your devotion to me?" she asked, breaking through the thoughts that swarmed through his head.




Extracurricular Activities Ch. 07



"Please Mistress, can I wear your collar?" he asked, bringing a smile to Sarah's face. She nodded and picked up the leather, wrapping it around his neck. She could feel every muscle in his body tense; a conflict between the power his mind had given his mistress and the resistance his body still held. As her hands circled around his neck to fasten the buckle in the back, she kissed him on the lips. The sensual touch of her lips on his made him melt. The tail of the collar went through the metal fastener, tightened and went slack as the prong found a comfortable hole in the leather to slide into. She tucked the tail into the end of the clasp, securing the band around his neck.

She broke the kiss and smiled at her slave, "Now, that wasn't so bad!" He shook his head, still not at ease, but he agreed that is wasn't so bad. Walking back to the wardrobe, she came out with an item in her small hands, two small leather straps that snapped together into rings connected by another strip of leather. She tossed it on the floor near him as he knelt. She could see the quizzical look that blanketed his face as he pondered what it was. She dipped her head back into the armoire and came out with a long black scarf.

"Do you trust me?"

"I trust you Mistress."

She wrapped the scarf over his eyes and could feel the momentary panic set in. "We need to discuss the safe word," she said simply. "I use a Red, Yellow, Green system, like a traffic light." She tied the blindfold around the back of his head and took the tails of the scarf and looped them through the D-ring on the back of his collar. Binding him tightly, his head was forced back, exposing his neck, putting him in a defenseless position. He was seated stark naked on the floor in a position that would not have been easy to escape, he couldn't see and his neck was unprotected, causing a flicker of the fight-or-flight response to cross his mind.

"Breathe," she whispered in his ear. He hadn't known she was so close until he felt her hot breath on his exposed neck. He whimpered slightly. "Breathe." He obeyed her and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his mouth. "Good boy," she said, sounding like she was across the room. Her footsteps were noiseless and it put him on edge not knowing where she was at any given moment. "Chris, breathe," she said, using his name for the first time since the scene started. He struggled internally to keep his hands behind him, to have the self-control to keep the position and not rip off the blindfold. Sarah put on some calming music and stepped silently towards him and whispered in his ear.

"Yellow means that things are getting too intense and I will back off," she said into his right ear. "Red means that the scene will stop entirely," came her voice from his left side, catching him off-guard again, causing his heart to pound. "If you say Red and are in physical danger, having an asthma attack, panic attack, etcetera I will release you immediately. If you are just scared, I will keep you in the blindfold and any other restraints you might have. It can be mentally traumatizing to pull you out completely without bringing you down properly, unless it's medically necessary. If I ask you how you're feeling you must answer me truthfully. If everything is okay, just say Green," she explained. Her words calmed him slightly, knowing that if shit hit the fan that he could stop everything.

The music coming from the speakers was Celtic drum beats and fiddling that served as a nice distraction. "Let's explore subspace together," she said.

"Subspace?" he asked.

"Trust me to help you find it." He breathed deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. She massaged his shoulders, encouraging his relaxation. "Why don't you put your hands at your sides," she suggested hoping that some of the mental tension would leave his body once he could relax his muscles. He slid his hands to rest on the outside of his thighs, touching the floor, and Sarah rubbed some of the soreness from his joints. She could feel the stress leaving his body, slowly.

Kneeling behind him she pressed her body lightly against his sore back. She was naked, losing her t-shirt somewhere after he was blindfolded. Her hard nipples touched his tender back along one of the harsher welts, but instead of searing pain, the thought of her bare breasts and her gentle touches made it more pleasurable. She came closer, kissing his neck and tracing his chest with her fingers from behind. Her fingertips circled his nipples, sending a shiver up his spine. She spread her legs and slid even closer still. Chris could feel her hot wet pussy touching his rear as her soft body embraced his abused flesh. He shuddered at the merging of pleasure and pain. She pulled him to her, forcing him into her embrace, sucking at his earlobe and moaning softly. He gasped at the sensation on his raw back as she held him. He felt comforted and broken simultaneously.

Sarah's hands trailed from his chest down to his crotch, stroking his rock hard cock with one hand, his balls with the other. Chris gasped and eased into her ministrations. He felt cool leather as it encircled his shaft, hearing it snap into place. The strap that connected the two pieces rested on top, the second half dangling loosely. She carefully wrapped the other loop of leather around the base of his cock, below his balls. He grunted at the new sensations. He felt a tightness as she snapped the second ring into place. It was constricting but he couldn't tell if he loved it or hated it.

"You're a good boy," she whispered hotly in his ear. His neck was sore from being tied back but he dared not ask for release. It was uncomfortable, but she had assured him that there would be discomfort. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He could feel his cock throb softly with each pump of his heart and it excited him. She held the tip of his nine-inch dick, her thumb touching the sensitive ridge, a drop of pre-cum dripping onto her hand. "Someone's enjoying this," and he responded with a groan of pleasure.

Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she stroked him, running the whole length. He felt her gentle touches and the firm embrace of the cock harness; more sensory contradictions. He closed his eyes and leaned into her, his back still so sore, craving more of her caresses. "So, you've submitted to the collar and the blindfold and my harness. I'm very proud of you," she said sensually. Her words helped him to relax, knowing he was making her happy. "I'm going to bring you to orgasm," she said and he moaned loudly, "But, you cannot cum until I let you."

He gasped as she stroked him faster, concentrating on the head of his cock. He bucked, his hips thrusting wantonly into her hand. She grabbed his unguarded throat roughly and pulled it back towards her, her fingers digging in, a flash of panic racing through his mind. "Don't do that," she hissed in his ear and he nodded as best as he could.

"I'm sorry Mistress," he gasped and she released him, never stopping her hand job. He had been so turned on for such a long time that it only took a minute or two before he had reached the precipice of his orgasm and was writhing uncontrollably. Sarah smiled as she continued.

"Beg for release," she moaned into his ear.

"Oh god!" he uttered. Her fingers wrapped tighter around the sensitive head of his penis.

"Beg!" she said, pushing his limits again, forcing him to vocalize his desires.

"Please..." he moaned.

"Please what, slut?" she said, calling him names, the degradation turning him on further.

"Please Mistress, may I cum?"

She toyed with him, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"Mistress, may I cum?" he said, louder now

"You are just asking permission, I told you I wanted you to beg for it!" Her voice sounded sinister and it nearly sent him over the edge.

"Mistress! Your slave needs to cum! Please have mercy and let me cum!" She continued, ignoring his pleas. "Please!" he grunted, his face contorted as he struggled to control himself. The room was silent save for the drum beats and the sound of her hand rubbing his organ.

"Cum."

With one word he plunged into ecstasy. His hips jolted. Ropes of cum shot from his dick and his body trembled. He slumped over, leaning against her, the pain in his back lost in the endorphine rush of release. Sarah continued to stroke his hyper-sensitive member and he wriggled to get away, wanting to rest and recover.

"Where do you think you're going, slut?" she asked, holding him firmly by his cock, "You still have two more to give me before we're done here." Her voice was so ominous and foreboding. He had seen videos of forced orgasms and orgasm denial. It turned him on to know that he had such little control over his own body. Her hands left his dick and left him secretly wanting more. "Sit down on your butt, let's get some pressure off your poor knees," she said.

Chris had been so caught up in the pleasure he was receiving that he hadn't noticed the stiffness in his muscles and joints until she helped him to move them again. He was moving into 'subspace' where pain melted away and his brain struggled to grasp what was going on around him. In his mind, he was starting to float, riding the waves of pain and pleasure that washed over him. Sarah was experienced with leading her submissives through subspace, keenly away of their comfort levels even if they weren't. She avoided harsh bondage because when in subspace it was hard for them to convey their own discomfort. She had known a sub who suffered permanent nerve damage from steel cuffs because her Dom had neglected to realize that she was in danger while floating through subspace.

Sarah pulled a heavy chest over towards Chris and sat it close to him. He looked around, blind, trying to ascertain what was going on. She took a pillow from the bed and put the soft cushion between his abused back and the chest, pushing him back gently. He relaxed, feeling her concern for him. She untied the tail ends of the blindfold from the collar and his sore neck lolled forward. Strong fingertips massaged the back of his neck to relieve the tension he held there, tension he had almost forgotten about in the throes of passion. She kissed him on his lips, sucking at his bottom lip eagerly. When released, his lip jutted out in a deep red pout. Sarah straddled her slave, his dick resting teasingly against her wet pussy lips. He was surprised at how hard he had stayed. 'For her,' he thought.

The drum beats pounded in his head as she kissed him tenderly. He felt like she knew his body better than he did as she kissed all of his erogenous zones; his earlobes, the nape of his neck, the hollow of his collarbone, his nipples. She worked down, kissing the little patch of hair that trailed down to his crotch, his lower abs, his pelvis and inner thigh, skipping his groin, teasing him. She simultaneously relieved and rebuilt sexual tension throughout his body. Taking up his right hand, she took his index finger into her mouth and nibbled on his fingertip. He groaned as she continued, taking his first two fingers into her mouth, fellating them softly, tasting her juices that had dried there.

"Thank you Mistress," Chris said breathlessly. Sarah smiled and released him, sliding her body down his. The hairs on his legs tickled her naked pussy and she let out a very girlish giggle. She helped him to spread his legs and drank in the sight of him; blindfolded, erect, cock bound in leather, exposed. Slithering back up between his legs, he could feel her hot breath on his balls, her face so close to his dick, his member bobbing reflexively. Her wet tongue made contact with his sack and he shuddered. She took the trussed balls into her mouth one at a time, sucking them softly, bathing them with her tongue.

He wanted so badly to watch her as she teased him. He could picture her coyly locking eyes with him from between his legs. With a stiff tongue, she licked from below his balls, through the valley between them, up his shaft, over the ring of leather that encased it, up to the head of his penis. She engulfed it in her hot mouth and sucked hard, circling her tongue around the ridge.

"Fuck!" he grunted. His dick was pulled from her mouth with an audible pop. He imagined Sarah licking her lips like a kitten and groaned. She put her hands under his thighs and helped him to bend his knees, exposing him further, guiding him into a position that made him a bit disconcerted. She had such a way of constantly keeping him on edge, physically and mentally. She wrapped her arms around his thighs from underneath, holding him close to her, locking him in place.

Once she was comfortable she dove into giving him a serious blow job. She started with half of him inside her and gently worked his whole shaft into her mouth and throat. She took a second with him fully-lodged in her to breathe deeply, controlling instinctual reflexes. Chis wanted so badly to move, to grab a fistful of her hair and face-fuck her. He controlled himself and kept his hands at his sides. 'Control and discipline, foundations of being a good submissive,' he thought. His lips parted and he took his ragged breaths as she urged him closer and closer to orgasm.

"Mistress." She moaned a 'yes?' with a mouth full of cock. "Mistress, I want to cum for you," he panted.

She pulled him from her throat. His words were endearing, 'for you.' "Remember my signal before?" she said, giving his balls the familiar squeeze, this one being a bit firmer, a bit harsher. He nodded. "When I give you the signal, you can release." She went down on him again, tasting the salty pre-cum that had dribbled out with her rough treatment of his bound balls. She sucked him in earnest and he felt like he would explode in her throat. Her hands traveled to his back, stroking a few of the welts there with her fingertips. The pressure and pain helped to distract him and allow him to hold on longer. It also sent him further into subspace where dopamine flooded his brain, transforming the pain into pleasure. The more she touched him, the more he enjoyed it. Unsure why he was loving the pain so much, he became fearful and nervous, wondering what he was turning into.

Sarah sensed the shift in mood and tapped him gently but firmly on the balls, breaking him out of his state of unrest. She set to work building his orgasm again, sucking and licking his cock, allowing his brain to produce more pleasurable chemicals. His thighs were trembling with the effort it took for him to hold back. Her mouth was like heaven, the closeness he felt with her helped to open himself up, to allow himself to be vulnerable in her arms. "Mistress..."

She didn't make him beg this time. She grabbed hold of his balls, rougher than she had demonstrated and his cock twitched as he exploded in her mouth. He moaned with the effort of it, feeling with every jets of cum spurting from him it took even more energy from his body. He fell limp; his legs splayed out, his back sore from leaning against the chest. She cleaned up every drop of his cum, satisfied with his current state: spent. She left him alone for a minute as he caught his breath. He could hear her over at the speakers again and she turned on more up-beat music; deep bass, electronic keyboard, pounding drums.

"One more time," she whispered in his ears and he groaned and rolled into the fetal position. She struck him hard with her open hand on his bottom several times and he just laid there and took it, his mind filled with plenty of hormones to sufficiently block out any pain. The torsion on his nipple was enough to bring him out of it. "I said one more time," a hint of anger in her voice. He didn't want to displease her, he was just so tired. He didn't even think he could get it up again so quickly. "Get on all fours, slave."

He obeyed, rolling from his side to his knees with a whimper. She moved behind him and admired his still bound cock and balls as they peeked through the crack in his thighs. She came and knelt behind, reaching around to stroke his soft penis. He groaned, his body refusing to get hard. She tugged at him some more from the front with her right hand while her left rubbed his balls from behind. She smiled as he relaxed, his back dipping low, his breathing increasing. With her thumb, she began putting pressure on the patch of skin that separated his balls from his anus. She massaged there deeply, stroking his prostate from the outside. Against his will, his cock grew hard again and began dripping cum from her manipulations. He felt shame as she forced him, controlled him, a tiny puddle on the floor evidence of her control.

"That's a good boy," she said assuaging his feelings of dishonor. "Your mistress wants that cock inside her. You aren't going to let her down, are you?" He perked up. He had wanted to fuck that pussy from the moment he stuck his tongue in her wetness in the office at work. Her body left his and he heard her walk towards the bed. The springs in the mattress squeaked as she sat down, leaving him alone and blind in the middle of the room. "Follow my voice slave," she said, coaxing him to crawl towards her. His hands and knees struck the wooden floor as he moved tentatively to her. "That's a good boy, just a few more steps."

He could smell the heady scent of her arousal as his face nearly collided with her wet pussy. He sat with his butt on the floor and licked at her moist slit. She purred and opened her legs further, allowing him deeper access to her pussy. He licked at her folds and gently sucked her clit and she quaked under him. "Slave, give me that cock," Sarah said, unwilling to wait any longer to be filled. Just moments before he hadn't know if he was going to be able to get hard, now he ached to be inside her, fucking her, sating his new-found lust. She helped him to crawl up her curvy body and he rested his head in the valley between her breasts. She guided his bound cock to her entrance and he took his cue, sliding deep into her slippery womanhood.

She panted at how he had occupied every bit of space in her tight pussy. She couldn't even move to bear down on him inside her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her orgasm hit her with such force. He could feel her pussy muscles clench feebly around his shaft and he wanted to fuck her so hard, to leave her a mess of sweat and cum on this spartan bed in the playroom. Instead he held her, comforted her as the pleasure washed over her.

"Fuck me, slut." Her words rang through his head and he began pumping slowly in and out of her. "I said fuck me!" she growled, pulling him close to her, forcing herself to be impaled on his whole length. He bottomed-out and groaned as how delicious her tight pussy felt wrapped around him. His balls were still held by the harness and he could feel them slapping against her wet pussy with each thrust. She raked her nails across his back. The pain should have been intense enough to knock him out but he was too high on the drugs his brain was producing. He pounded away at her pussy, his mistress yelping in pleasure with each stroke. He was unbridled. He fucked her like a machine. He didn't care for her pleasure, just his own.

"Don't cum!" Her breathless words pierced through the haze in his mind.

"Fuck!" he shouted and slowed his frenetic rhythm.

"Beg for it, bitch!" Her words wounded him.

There were no inhibitions this time. "Mistress," the blindfolded man begged, "Mistress, I'm your slave, your slut, your bitch. This slave wants to cum. Please let this slave cum!"

She smiled, 'He's catching on,' she thought. Her hands traveled deftly down to the place where their bodies joined and she undid the snap on the harness that held his shaft. His pace picked back up, his dick seemingly harder, but there was still one more strap holding his balls so snugly.





Extracurricular Activities Ch. 07



"Cum," she said, skillfully flicking open the snap on the band that held his balls in their vice-like grip. His cock and balls flooded with fresh blood, the sensation was earth-shattering.

"FUCK!" he screamed, plowing her with wild abandon. They came at the same time, his cock filling her pussy as she squirted all over him, coating him with her juices. He collapsed on top of her. She could still feel him spurting inside her as their combined wetness slid down her thigh. She held him close as he came back down to earth. His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes still covered with the black silk. He stifled a moan as he slid out of her. She scooted back on the bed and pulled him close, letting him rest his head in her lap. He shuddered softly and whispered a soft, "I love you Mistress." She knew what he was feeling was the release of oxytocin by his brain, but the sincerity of his words, his tone of adoration moved her to tears. She furiously wiped them away as she petted her slave, not wanting to show weakness. When she got herself back under control, she untied the blindfold over his eyes. He didn't stir.