0 comments/ 41809 views/ 5 favorites Lesson for the Teacher's Sub By: Js_Keeper Author's Note: This story is one of the few I've written with a female dominant character. I hope you enjoy it. If you take time to read the story, please take an extra minute to leave feedback or an extra second to vote. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Sit down, Brandon," Amanda Langford said with a seriousness that made Brandon uneasy. The tall, thin 32-year old professor usually spoke in a serious, if not distant manner. Her demeanor was her way of compensating for the prejudice a pretty, young, female professor often faced in a university environment dominated by older males. As further compensation she typically covered her rather shapely body with distinctively gender-neutral fashions, wearing khaki pants and loose-fitting button down shirts, using little or no make-up, and keeping her hair cropped short and neat. Early career experiences taught her that an explicitly feminine appearance was often met with rude, sexist behavior and a general lack of professional respect from peers and students alike. Underneath this rather plain exterior, however, it was a different story. Hidden from view, Amanda could express her true self by indulging in the most delicately feminine lingerie imaginable: lacey bras, skimpy panties, silky teddies and camisoles. At other times, when clothing would allow, she would follow her penchant for leather. Thus she was able to enjoy her ultimate femininity, despite outward appearances. Though she mostly tried to hide it, Amanda couldn't stand Brandon Lewis. Throughout his undergraduate career he had tried to warm up to her with every boyish charm he could muster. He flirted with her, complimented her appearance, and even made blatantly sexual remarks during tutoring sessions in her office. Brandon never realized the extent to which she especially resented his male sexist behavior, and that all his attention only served to further increase her disdain for him. The professor closed the door to her office behind Brandon and took her seat at her desk, across from him. He sat nervously on the edge of his seat, well aware that he had performed miserably on the final, carelessly taking the exam while badly hung over. He had also come to know full well Professor Langford's reputation for being particularly tough on her male students. She seemed to delight in making life difficult for them. "Is it as bad as I think?" he asked sheepishly. "Worse." She said abruptly, tossing the final onto her desk toward him. He picked up the exam and stared at the failing grade represented by the bright red numbers at the top of the page. "Damn," Brandon said slumping back in his chair. "So what now?" "Well, that's up to you. If I turn this grade in you certainly wont be graduating next Saturday," she explained with a hint of delight in her voice. "What do you mean, 'if'. You mean you aren't going to turn in a grade for me? This is a required course. Like you said, I need it to get a C or I don't graduate." He looked at her with confusion. "I don't get it." "Boy you really are thick aren't you," she said, shifting suddenly to a demeaning voice. "I have to turn in SOME grade, but I don't' have to turn in THIS grade. Are you with me?" "OK, so what's it gonna' take to have you change the grade?" Brandon asked quickly. "Do you want me to retake the exam?" "There won't be time for that," she said. "Besides, I doubt you'd do any better on a retake. Stupid twit. We'll have to find another solution." "You know I'm desperate, Professor Langford," Brandon pleaded. "I'll do anything it takes to get a C in this class." "Anything?" the professor asked, staring into Brandon's eyes and searching out his resolve. The slight smile he detected made him nervous, but he also knew he had little choice at this point but to do whatever it would take. "Anything," he reiterated, feigning boldness. "You know I don't care much for your kind, don't you?" "My kind? What kind is that?" "The kind that thinks just because he has a dick, he has the right to hit on any woman he wants. The kind that thinks all women can't wait to spread their legs for him. The kind that treats women as nothing more than sex toys to be used for personal gratification and tossed aside." Brandon was so stunned at her course language and angry accusations that he could find no meaningful response. She had him pegged. "I hear you're engaged to be married," she continued. "That's right," he answered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He already didn't like where this was going. "So does your fiancé know you've constantly been hitting on and screwing half the women on campus?" "Well." He paused to consider his answer. "No. She goes to Worthington U." As if her remoteness somehow made his womanizing OK. "Don't you think she has the right to know the kind of man she's marrying?" "Uh, well, I'm not going to screw around on her after we're married," Brandon tried to explain. "Ya', right," Amanda said with disgust. "Like you really think you can change your ways just like that, simply because you put a damn ring on your finger one day?" Amanda had learned of "his kind" from her own former husband, who cheated on her frequently until she finally threw him out. "Sure," he said confidently. "No way. No fucking way," she exclaimed loudly, shaking her head angrily. "Not unless somebody teaches you a serious lesson." "What does my sex life have to do with my grade in this class anyway?" Brandon was trying to change the subject back to his grade. "It has everything to do with it, you idiot. Everything." "So you want me to promise to stop cheating on my fiancé in exchange for a C in this class?" Brandon asked. "Oh, I'm sure you wish you could get that C for the price of a promise you have no intention of keeping. But it's not going to be that easy," she insisted. "What then?" he asked. "To start with, why don't you come over here, get down on your knees and just see if you can convince me that you deserve another chance. A chance at a better grade and a chance to amend your cheating ways." "What?" Brandon protested. "You heard me. Come over here and convince me to even consider your plea. And it better be good." Amanda pushed her chair back from her desk and Brandon reluctantly moved around the desk and dropped to his knees in front of her. "Please, Professor," he begged with all the sincerity he could muster. "Please let me have that C. I know I don't deserve it, but I need it. If I don't' graduate, I won't be able to take the job I've got lined up, and my wedding will probably be postponed or even cancelled. Please, I beg you. I have to have that C." "And what are you willing to offer me in exchange?" "Anything, " he repeated. "If you want me to stop screwing around on my fiancé, I will. I promise. I know you don't believe me, but I can do it. I will do it." "You're right. I don't believe a word of it. Can't you be any more convincing than that?" Brandon scooted closer to Amanda and put his hand on her knee. Repeating his plea, he gave her his best sad puppy look. She quickly slapped the back of his hand so hard it immediately turned bright red. "That kind of shit doesn't cut it with me," she snipped. "Then what the hell do I have do to convince you that I'm serious?" His tone was desperate and irrational. He clearly had no clue what she was after. "I told you, you have to be taught a lesson," she reiterated. "What kind of lesson?" "Stand up, you worthless slob." Brandon stood, clutching his stinging hand with the other. "Drop your pants." "What!?" Brandon yelled in disbelief. "You heard me, pig, drop your pants. Do you want that C or not?" she barked. Brandon furrowed his brow, but complied by unbuckling his pants and dropping them to the floor around his ankles. All the fantasies he'd played out with Professor Langford in his mind suddenly came to him in a rush. Could it be that they were going to come true right here and now? His cock began to instinctively harden before Amanda's eyes, causing his boxers to rise in front. "These too," Amanda insisted, snapping the waistband of his boxer shorts against his stomach. Brandon slowly peeled down his underwear, revealing his thickening manhood, which by then was standing at about half-mast. Amanda ignored his growing erection and ordered him to turn around and face away form her, which he did. She opened her top desk drawer and removed a long, wooden ruler, which she quickly applied to Brandon's backside with a swift and powerful blow. Brandon jumped and covered his ass with both hands. "Ow! That hurt!' he yelped. "It was supposed to, idiot," Amanda derided him. "And we're just getting started. Now move your hands." Brandon slowly dropped his hands to his sides. The next whack was even harder than the first. "Ouch! What the fuck?" he yelled and quickly returned his hands to cover his ass. "Something is going to have to be done with those hands." She put down the ruler and retrieved a roll of clear packing tape from her desk drawer. She ordered Brandon to interlock his hands and forearms behind his back. She taped them together firmly so that it was impossible for him to lower his hands to protect his butt. She placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him around to face her. His cock was now fully hard and sticking out from under his T-shirt. Despite his stinging ass, he was extremely aroused by the situation. Seeing his arousal, Amanda was determined to counter it. She grabbed his balls firmly in one hand and squeezed them together. When Brandon flinched, she said, "What's the matter, lover boy? Haven't you always wanted to feel my hands on your balls?" "This isn't exactly what I had in mind," he winced. She led him by his nuts over toward her desk. With her free hand she cleared away the few items that were arranged neatly in the center of the desk. "Spread your legs and lean down on the desk," Amanda ordered as she released his balls from her grasp. Brandon spread his legs wide apart to lower his hips to desk height. He bent forward at the waist, lowering his chest onto the hard desktop with a thud. His rigid cock was wedged painfully against the edge of the desk and his balls hung free off the edge. Now seated behind him, Amanda reached between his widespread legs and again grasped his balls in her hand. "Now you are ready for your lesson to continue, aren't you?" Amanda asked, smiling to herself at the command position she held over the student who had tried so hard to win her over with his audacious male bravado. "I'm not so sure about this," Brandon quipped. "You don't really have any choice at this point," Amanda countered. "If you want that C, you'll take whatever I want to dish out. Got it asshole?" "Ya', OK. Just get on with it." "When you address me, you'll show a little more respect," Amanda asserted. She gave his balls a hard squeeze and let them go. She picked up the ruler and gave each of his ass cheeks a hard smack. Thwack! Thwack! "From now on you'll address me as 'Mistress Amanda,' understand?" "OK," Brandon whined. "Whatever." Thwack! Thwack! "Try that again, pig" she corrected him. "Yes Mistress Amanda." Long narrow red stripes were beginning to show on Brandon's ass wherever she struck him. Brandon flinched and jerked with each blow. Finally, he stopped fighting and simply placed his head face down on the desk; resigned to receive whatever punishment the professor wanted to give him. She finished his castigation by repeatedly smacking the ruler against the tender flesh of Brandon's inner thighs. He was almost in tears when she finally relented. When Amanda retrieved her digital camera from the filing cabinet in the corner of the office, Brandon saw what she was doing and begged her not to take pictures. But she explained as she took several photos of him bent over the desk, red ass beaming, that she had to take pictures for self-defense. She explained that if he were to ever tell anyone about their little "lesson" that she would immediately email these pictures to his bride-to-be, along with made up details of their torrid, two-year long, sexually deviant affair. After returning the camera to the filing cabinet, she helped Brandon to his feet. She used scissors to cut a slit in the tape that held his arms. She then roughly tore the tape free, removing with it most of the hair on his forearms. "Ouch!" Brandon complained loudly. "Damn!" "You thought you were such a tough-guy," Amanda teased, giving his red ass one last smack with the back of her hand. "Please, Mistress Amanda," he pleaded, "No more." "You are really pathetic. You know that?" she asked rhetorically. She ordered Brandon to pull up his pants and get out of her office. "Does that mean I get that C?" Brandon asked hopefully. "I'd say you are up to about a D+ right now," Amanda teased. Brandon complained vehemently as he buckled his pants, being careful not to pinch his full erection in his zipper. Amanda pulled one of her business cards from the cardholder on her desk and scribbled something down. She handed the card to Brandon. "Be at this address tonight at 8:00pm sharp, and we'll see if we can't get you up to that C by the end of the evening." "You've got to be kidding!" Brandon protested. "That's 'you've got be kidding, Mistress Amanda.' And no I'm not. Be there or spend the summer in a make-up class. Now go. And don't forget that I have the pictures. Nobody is to know about this, and I mean nobody." Brandon walked out of the professor's office, still in a state of absolute shock and disbelief at what had just happened to him. Yet there was no denying the pain that radiated from his ass, thighs and balls. Although Brandon was very experienced sexually (he had even played domination games with some of his girlfriends), nothing in his vast sexual history had aroused him so completely as the spanking he'd received from the beautiful young professor. He was both thrilled and terrified to see what she had in store for him that night. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - At exactly eight-o-clock Brandon knocked on the door of Mistress Amanda's modest brick ranch home. There was an undeniable mix of nervousness and excitement in his stomach that had been there since leaving her office earlier that day. As stunned as he was by the spanking he had received at the hands of the professor, he was totally captivated by the thought of further submitting to Mistress Amanda in her home. He had been fantasizing about the possibilities all afternoon. Brandon was disappointed when she answered the door dressed in the same green khakis and a plain blue button-down shirt she had on earlier in the day. This is not at all how he had played it out in his fantasy. In his mind she would answer the door in a leather teddy and fishnet stockings, brandishing a cat-o-nine-tails. "I'm glad to see you were brave enough to come," she said opening the door. "Come on in, if you dare." The devilish look on her face certainly fueled increased Brandon's anxiety. He came in nonetheless, and she directed him to the loveseat in the living room. Brandon sat somewhat gingerly, still sore from the spanking. He observed that the house was decorated simply and comfortably, not exactly the sex-den he had imagined. "Now, let me explain the rules," Mistress Amanda began, "so that it will be clear even to a moron like you." She was pacing slowly back and forth in front of the loveseat where Brandon was seated, looking as stern and serious as always. "You have the choice right now to stay or go. If you stay, you must agree to do exactly as I say until I give you permission to leave this house. No exceptions. If you are obedient, you'll have your C when your lesson is complete. Or, if you'd rather leave right now, you may do so and I'll see you in summer school. The choice is yours." The choice was an easy one. He was extremely aroused by the possibilities of an evening of being dominated by the lovely professor. His strong attraction to play the submissive surprised him, but the draw was undeniable. And sexual feelings aside, he was determined to get that C. "I'll stay," Brandon answered. Amanda stopped pacing and turned toward him. "Say it right," she bristled. "I choose to stay, Mistress Amanda," he said smugly. Amanda immediately stepped toward him and placed her bare foot in his crotch, pressing half her weight against his tender parts. "Try that again. Say it right. Beg me to let you stay." "Please, Mistress Amanda, will you please let me stay. I will do whatever you say." Amanda removed her foot from between his legs and directed Brandon to follow her. The two made their way down the hall to the "spare" room. Amanda stopped in front of the closed door and turned to face Brandon. "This is my playroom," she said in a seductive voice. "Anyone who enters here is bound to absolute secrecy about its existence. Do you understand, slave?" "Yes Mistress Amanda," he answered sincerely. She opened the door and the two of them entered the room. The room was rather dark, lit only with four overhead track lights, each with deep red bulbs, all focused on a large, black, padded leather table in the center of the room. The table was the only furniture in the room except for a large black trunk angled into one corner. Mistress closed the door to the hall and the reddish hue of the room deepened as the whiter light of the hallway disappeared. Brandon noticed a large mirror that practically covered one entire wall. Next to the mirror was what appeared to be a closet door, although Brandon could not tell for sure since it was closed. The wall adjacent to the mystery door was covered with what appeared to be a wide variety of bondage devices: chains, cuffs, straps, whips, paddles and clamps. Among these were a number of items that Brandon could not readily identify. "Take off your clothes," Amanda commanded abruptly. Brandon quickly complied with her order, and began removing his clothes. As he did, the Mistress adjusted the table, using various cranks and levers, until it was positioned into the approximate shape of a large chair, with half the tabled raised at an angle to form the back of the chair. Brandon stood naked before his Mistress waiting for her to complete the adjustments. He watched as she unfolded or adjusted various hooks, loops, buckles and straps from around the perimeter of the table. She then directed him to sit down and lay back. Standing at Brandon's feet she announced, "Since scumbag slaves like you have absolutely no self-control, the first order of business is to prevent the possibility that you might act in a manner unbefitting a slave be restricting your movements." She started by strapping each of his ankles into shackles mounted to the edge near one end of the table. She tightened the leather buckles roughly, forcing his feet apart by the width of the table (about two and a half feet). She walked over to the wall of contraptions and retrieved a pair of leather wrist cuffs, which she promptly put in place on her slave. Using two small oval-shaped climbing carabineers she secured the rings in the cuffs to two rings on opposite sides of the table near chest level and slightly behind him. This caused the slaves arms to be drawn up and bent, with his elbows sticking straight out. "There, that should do for now," Mistress said, stepping back to observe her handiwork. She then moved into position at the foot of the table between his feet and stood staring into his eyes. As she stared, she very slowly began to unbutton her shirt. With each new open button, the slave strained to get a glimpse of what was hidden beneath her clothing. When all the buttons were undone she stood with the shirt front open less than an inch. Lesson for the Teacher's Sub "You'd like to see what I have on under this shirt wouldn't you, slave?" she teased. "Yes Mistress Amanda, very much." His cock was growing noticeably harder by the second. Amanda slipped one hand inside her shirt and massaged her breasts, one at a time, with big, slow circular motions. She turned her back and pulled her shirt open. "Please, Mistress Amanda," Brandon begged, "Please let me see your beautiful tits. I've been dreaming about them for years." "Why do you think I care a rats ass what you want?" she retorted. Without giving the slave a chance to answer she continued. "I don't. I don't care at all." She closed her shirt and moved swiftly around behind the head of the table out of his sight. He could hear her moving, and strained to see her, but his bound wrists prevented him from doing so. The Mistress removed her shirt and tossed it into the slave's lap, covering his erection. "I don't really want to see your pathetic cock," she mocked. Next, the Mistress unbuckled and removed her belt. From behind him she dangled the belt in front of his face. "You thought that ruler was fun? Just imagine how much you're going to enjoy my belt." She laughed and evil laugh and dropped the belt onto his chest. It bounced off and fell with a clinking sound to the floor. Still hidden behind the upright half of the table, she removed one shoe and tossed it high into the air. It landed hard on Brandon's right thigh. "Damn!" Brandon exclaimed. The second shoe bounced directly off his rigid cock. "Bull's-eye!" Amanda shouted with delight. "Hey!" the slave protested, squirming desperately in a vain attempt to protect his cock from further abuse. Next he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper, as she removed her pants. Brandon continued to struggle unsuccessfully against the restraints, dying to see his Mistress in her current state of undress. She carefully placed her pants over the slave's head, such that his eyes were completely covered. She positioned the crotch of her pants over his eyes and tied the legs behind his head to keep the makeshift "blindfold" in place. The Mistress stepped from her hiding place behind the slave's back and strutted around to the foot of the table. "I bet you would love to see this incredibly sexy leather teddy I'm wearing." She mocked his frustration. "I know you've undressed me in your mind every day in class for years. I guess it will just have to remain only in your mind. You poor stupid bastard." He squirmed and swung his head wildly, trying desperately to free his eyes from the darkness. She was wearing one of her favorite black leather teddies, with a thong back, a deep V-neckline that plunged almost to her belly button between two narrow strips of studded leather, held in place by a large metal ring and barely covering her pert C-cup tits. A similar small patch of leather barely covered her almost clean-shaven womanhood. The Mistress had always shaved all but a small strip of her nether hair to prevent her pubes from showing in even the most revealing lingerie. From the trunk in the corner of the room she retrieved a pair of black zip-up boots that reached several inches above her knees and a pair of long, fingerless, black silk gloves. She put them all on and stood before the mirror, examining herself with a pleased expression on her face. She was simply wild about her hot lingerie. It made her feel sexy and in command all the time, but especially when she was playing a scene. Now that she was dressed for the part, she was ready to proceed. "Hey," Brandon protested, "it's getting hot under here and hard to breath." "Aw," Amanda mocked. "What's the matter little slave boy? Did you think this was going to be all fun and games?" "No, but I didn't think you were going to suffocate me either." "Listen, I've had about enough whining out of you. One more wimpy-ass complaint and I'll see to it that you won't' be able say another word. Got it?" "Aw, come on." Brandon continued his protest. "That's it, slave." Amanda said in calm voice. She went to the trunk and retrieved a combination ball-gag and a blindfold, which she had crafted herself from nylon webbing and Velcro. She stepped behind him, removed the pants that covered his eyes, and replace them with the customized blindfold. She attached it tightly behind and over the top of his head using two of the Velcro straps. Once his eyes were covered, she moved around beside him and pushed the ball of the gag into his mouth, securing it behind his head with the remaining Velcro strap. He mumbled an unintelligible complaint about the rubber taste, but resigned himself not to attempt further communication. "Don't you look like the pitiful little fuck that you are," Amanda laughed. "Why don't we just see how much more pitiful we can make you." The mistress retrieved a spreader bar from the wall of toys. She slipped it under the slave's knees and strapped the built-in shackles to his thighs, just above the kneecaps. She removed the dowel pin from the center of the bar (which was actually two bars, one sliding inside the other) and forced the slave's knees as far apart as they would go before replacing the pin. The slave whimpered slightly as she locked the bar into place. She selected a second spreader bar from the wall. This one had built-in shackles for his ankles, and a pair of metal rings affixed to the ends. She removed his ankles from the shackles on the corners of the table and strapped them into the shackles on the bar. She released the wrist cuffs from the table and, using the same carabiners, locked them into the same bar that held his ankles. With all the restraints in place the slave was leaned forward, almost forming a ball. Brandon heard the rattling of chains overhead, and felt the Mistress attach a chain to each end of the spreader bar under his knees. This was followed by a motorized cranking sound as she pressed the control to slowly hoist the bar. She released the button when his ass was about six inches off the table, the bar now bearing the bulk of his weight. She pushed the table out from under the slave suddenly, causing him to swing upside down, hanging from the bar under his knees like a trapeze artist. The attachment of his wrists to his ankles via the second bar caused his back to arch backward, almost forming his body into an "O" shape. Brandon heard a door open, then the Mistress said in a mocking voice, "Don't go anywhere now. I'll be right back." He heard the door close behind her. He waited for what seemed like forever for her return, suspended upside down in utter darkness. When she finally re-entered the room he heard the clicking noise of a camera shutter, as she captured his helplessness on her digital camera from several angles. "Now that I've recorded this for posterity, shall we continue with your lesson?" Mistress Amanda asked. The slave made no attempt to answer. Amanda pressed the winch control to raise the slave until he was positioned with his ass about at the Mistress's shoulder height. She slapped his ass several times with her open hand and inquired as to whether or not he had recovered from the spanking he had received from her earlier. The slave flinched and whimpered slightly but of course was unable to respond coherently. The Mistress walked slowly in circles around her suspended and inverted slave, delightfully considering her options and slapping his ass each time she passed behind him. Seeing her slave's ass bared and red before her inspired an idea. She dug into the trunk and removed a small, black, zippered case containing a series of black rubber butt plugs in graduated sizes and a tube of lubricant. She unzipped the case and removed the smallest plug, less than an inch wide and about three inches long. She applied a liberal amount of lubricant to the plug and approached the slave. Without a word of warning she parted his ass cheeks and plunged the plug into her slave's asshole. He jerked wildly and cried out loudly at the sudden penetration of his virgin back door. "Relax, slave," she instructed. "If you'll just relax this will be much easier on you. You may even find that you enjoy it. You're lucky I decided to use the beginner size first. But they only get bigger from here, ya' know, so you might as well learn how it's done." She wiggled the plug in his ass and slid it in and out until she felt his sphincter muscles relax against the intrusion. "That it," she encourage him. She eased the plug in one last time, leaving it seated firmly inside of him. Mistress Amanda released the slave's wrist cuffs from the ankle spreader bar so that he now hung straight down. She used a single carabineer to lock the cuffs together behind his back. After warning him not to speak a word unless directed, she removed the ball gag from the slave, leaving the blindfold portion in place for now. "As much pleasure as I'm getting from this, I intend to get a lot more. I'm going to let you lick my pussy, slave. And you'd better do it right. I want to come and come hard. You do know how to eat pussy don't you?" "Yes Mistress Amanda," the slave replied. The winch motor whirred one more time as the inverted slave was raised yet again, until his mouth was at the right height to reach Mistress's sex. She picked up the next size butt plug and approached her upside down slave. She unsnapped the leather strip over the crotch of her teddy and pressed her pussy into his face. His mouth and tongue went to work wildly seeking her soft fleshy folds. Handicapped by the absence of sight, it took him a few minutes to develop an accurate rhythm. Soon, however, the Mistress was moaning and humping his face. Her juices flowed freely over the slaves lips and cheeks as she approached her peak. When she felt her orgasm approaching she quickly removed the small butt plug and replaced with the next size, some fifty percent wider and slightly longer, plunging it inside him in, again in a single stroke. The slave prepared for the intrusion, and didn't miss a beat with his probing tongue. Within a few seconds the Mistress cried out with the violence of her orgasm, flooding the slaves face with juices and clinching her thighs around his head until the final wave passed. At last the Mistress released the slave's head from the grasp of her thighs, allowing him to again swing freely. She stepped back and leaned against the table to regain her senses. "Damn, slave, you can definitely eat pussy. I may have to come back for some more of that!" "Thank you Mistress. You are quite delicious and I would be honored to taste you some more, " he replied. Her head still spinning, she disregarded the fact that he had spoken without permission and moved instead to lower him to the ground. When the motor finally stopped he lay on the cold, hardwood floor on his back with his arms pinned beneath him and his legs and knees still forced apart by the two spreader bars. The weight of his body now resting against it, the plug in his ass was forced in even deeper. Before he knew it, the Mistress was lowering her sex over his face and grinding her soaking pussy against his mouth. "Eat me again!" she commanded. The slave eagerly went back to work, pleasuring her with his masterful tongue. He penetrated her hot hole, driving his tongue in as deeply as he could. The force of her body was almost suffocating him, but still he continued, catching a breath whenever he could. She raised herself slightly and ordered him to lick her clit, which he did with an expertise the Mistress had never experienced before. As her ecstasy rose, she looked down and observed her slave with a full erection. Without thinking she lowered her mouth onto his hot pole and began sucking him intensely. In response the slave immediately thrust his hips, forcing himself deeply into her warm mouth. The Mistress was surprised by how quickly her second orgasm was approaching. She came again, this time even harder than the first, again coating the slaves face with her womanly nectar. She released his wanting hardness and rolled off the slave and onto her back, exhausted from the absolute pleasure of it. As soon as she was able, she reached over and teasingly stroked the slave's rigid cock. She was able to drag herself over and lay her head on his stomach. She licked just the head of his engorged member, occasionally taking it into her mouth and sucking it in a light, gentle, teasing manner. "I suppose I could reward your excellent oral performance..." she said, plunging him deeply into her mouth until her lips reached his balls and quickly sliding him back out to complete her thought, "... with one of my own." "Oh God, please, yes. Please suck me. I'm dying," Brandon begged. "But that wouldn't be much of lesson, would it now?" With that Mistress Amanda sat up and released him from the two spreader bars. She had to help him to his feet since his hands were still cuffed behind his back. She grabbed him by his erection and led him back to the table, stroking him a few times along the way. She had him stand facing the table, and positioned his feet into the shackles mounted to the table legs near the floor. She bent him forward and strapped him chest-down to the top of the padded tabletop by looping a large, wide strap over his back. She lowered the half of the table that had formed the seatback until the whole thing was once again a flat table. She removed the second butt plug and told him it was time for the final size, which was some 2 ½ inches at its widest and six inches long from base to tip. She lubricated the large plug and slowly slid it into his ass. He relaxed as best he could, but it still felt like she was inserting a football. He cried out as the widest part entered him, but she continued until it reached the hilt. Amanda selected her favorite leather paddle from the wall of toys. The first blow caught the blindfolded slave off guard. He tensed his ass to prepare for the next one, straining his muscles against the huge plug, increasing the stretching sensation even more. The next blow landed directly against the base of the plug, causing further pain to shoot up his spine and explode into his brain. More whacks followed in rapid-fire succession, until the slave begged for mercy. The Mistress relented. "I didn't think you'd be so quick to beg off," she mocked. "You're even weaker than figured. Anyway, it's time for you to use that tongue of yours again." She climbed onto the table and lay on her back. She placed her feet on the slaves back and scooted her pussy toward his face. He strained to lift his head and reach her intimate places, but the strap holding him down greatly handicapped him. Nonetheless, he was able to achieve a position that was uncomfortable but workable, and began to pleasure his Mistress yet again. She squirmed against him, occasionally digging the heels of her boots into his back when a particularly intense wave of pleasure shot through her. While he was licking her, Brandon heard the sound of a door opening from the corner where the closet was. He sensed the presence of another person in the room. His mouth was clamped too deeply into the Mistress's sex to be able to inquire. Suddenly he felt the plug being removed from his ass. "You weren't kidding about his pussy-eating mastery, were you?" the Mistress exclaimed between moans of deep ecstasy. "I told you he was good," another voice proclaimed. Immediately Brandon recognized his fiancé's voice. A dizzying series of thoughts rushed through his mind. Could it really be Elizabeth? Elizabeth picked up the paddle that Amanda had been using and smacked Brandon's sore ass. She was clearly more hesitant about hurting him than the Mistress had been, but his skin was so tender that even her light blows stung immensely. "What the..." was all he could manage to say before the Mistress jerked his head by the hair into her sex and clamped her thighs around his head. Her humping, sloppy-wet pussy muffled his inquiry. "You see, Slave," said Elizabeth, "Mistress Amanda called me to inform me of your sexual exploits and asked my permission to teach you a little lesson. I've been watching this whole thing from behind that two-way mirror on the wall, and I must say it's been quite an entertaining and informative lesson." Brandon felt something cold and hard pressing between his ass cheeks. "Now, you little shit, it's my turn to teach the lesson." With that she thrust a huge foot long dildo deeply into his ass. His muffled cries vibrated Mistress Amanda's clit, much to her delight. Brandon felt as if he were being torn apart from the inside as Elizabeth thrust the dildo in and out of the helpless slave's red ass. She continued to slap his ass with the paddle. "If Mistress Elizabeth ever [slap] catches you fucking [slap, thrust] someone else again [slap], I will teach you a lesson [slap, thrust] that will make this seem like Kindergarten [slap]," she exclaimed. "Do you understand me, Slave?" [slap, thrust] [slap, thrust] Still unable to speak, Brandon simply nodded his head violently. After one final thrust and one more slap of the paddle, Mistress Elizabeth removed the huge dildo from her slave's ass. It was clear that she was now the one in total control. She ordered her slave to lay down face-up on the table. Mistress Amanda climbed off the table and released his wrists and ankles, and positioned him on the table as Mistress Elizabeth had directed. She then bound his ankles and wrists to the table in spread-eagle fashion. Mistress Amanda removed the blindfold, and at long last Brandon was able to see her sexy outfit. He also saw that Mistress Elizabeth was dressed identically, right down to the boots and gloves. His cock grew even harder at the amazing sight of being flanked by these two incredibly beautiful, powerful women. He wondered if he was going to get to fuck either of them or if they were simply going to tease him until his balls exploded. He didn't have to wait long to find out. Mistress Elizabeth ordered the slave to thank Mistress Amanda for the lesson by providing her one final orgasm with his tongue. Amanda climbed onto the table and lowered her glistening pussy over the slave's face. After a minute, Amanda began to pinch her nipples as she rubbed her clit over his skillful tongue. Mistress Elizabeth, who was getting so hot watching this that she had begun fingering herself, climbed onto the table and lowered her wet pussy over her slave's hard cock. She bucked wildly atop him while rubbing her clit with her fingertips. The two Mistresses pounded their bodies against the powerless slave beneath them, both surging toward climax. Mistress Amanda came first. She screamed and cried out as her third and most intense climax swept over her body. She slumped forward, still pinching her nipples and screaming through her peak, when Mistress Elizabeth went over the top. Despite having just masturbated herself to orgasm while watching from behind the mirror, her climax was overwhelming. Her cries of pleasure mixed in harmony with those of the other Mistress as the two women rode wave after wave of orgasmic spasms. The slave broke into the chorus with cries of his own as his swollen cock exploded with his hot cum, filling his future wife - his new Mistress.