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Teacher Is Mistaken

By: StoryTeller07



Monday morning Hollie sat at the desk, with a hand supporting her forehead. She pretended to be examining an essay, while the class got on with an assignment. The stupid incident that happened Friday, left her with plenty to think about. It was untypical of her, to analyse where something had gone wrong, or to mull over things for ages afterward.

This time, she couldn't just shrug it off, as a stupid accident. It all started in class, innocently enough, though later it got way out of hand.

		***

On Friday she had worn a simple light summer dress, knowing the air-conditioning might be out in her classroom. She caught the boys checking her out, while she stood by the window, and realised the dress had been a mistake. However, they were certainly paying attention to the lesson. One of them asked her to open another window, expecting her to reach up to it, where the strong sunlight would shine through the thin cotton.

She smiled at him and told him to do it. "You're a big strong man, I'm sure you can help me out, Jim," she replied. 

She had to turn away from them, on seeing the smirks on their faces. At eighteen it didn't take much to get them going. In the staff room a rude, sexy joke had been going around about 'helping out a woman', and it had probably been going around among the students too. 

A colleague warned her, the principal gave her this class, as a test of ability to control a group of adolescence. She was already on her guard, so was prepared to deal with disruptions. As a new teacher, she was trying to be hard, yet fair. She turned around with an amused look on her face, feeling in control, ready to settle them down. 

"Thank you Jim," she firmly said. A few instructions, clearly and forcefully delivered, regained their attention. She had proved she wasn't rattled by some boisterous behaviour, and could recover without going over the top. The rest of the period went well. 

Hollie picked up a school bag, which Miranda left it behind. It was the last period, before the end of day, and Hollie didn't have another class to teach. She decided to deliver the bag to Miranda, as the class was on her way to the parking lot. So far she hadn't been volunteered for anything, by the principal, so there was still a free period each day.

She put the bag down, to put change into a drinks machine. It was a hot day and she needed a cold juice. While bending over, to get the drink, she sensed there was someone behind her. She became conscious of the light dress, plastered between her cheeks. She automatically moved sideways out of the way, only to trip over the school bag. 

Hollie landed on her bottom, with legs sprawled over the bag. She went to push the dress down, but a young guy grabbed her hand to pull her up. For a moment she was stuck there, with him looking right between her legs. In that split second, she became aware of how hot she was. 

It wasn't just the heat of the day. She had become aroused, from the young guys in class checking her out. This adolescent too, had that male, predatory look on his face. The confident look he gave her, added to an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment. 

He pulled her up off the floor, at the same time grabbing her other hand. He pulled her close, too close for comfort. He was a tall handsome guy. At only five foot four, she felt overpowered by such a close presence. Taking a step back, her heel hit the bag, and she almost tumbled again.

He still had a hold of her hand, only now he firmly gripped her waist, with a strong arm.

"You're new here, Miranda, otherwise I would have noticed a beauty like you," he smiled. He was used to melting the hearts of cheerleaders, and was always prepared to practise on an attractive girl. There was something about her he liked.

A short blonde wasn't usually his type, but she had a certain, attractive glint in her eye. She was cute, the way she blushed, when he picked her up. She didn't complain, or insult him like some of the girls, who were far too arrogant to be man handled.

Hollie was taken aback when he called her Miranda, until recalling the bag was plastered with Miranda's name all over it. She was about to correct him, telling him she was a new teacher, not a new girl. Instead he took her by surprise, when he leant forward, to kiss her cheek. 

She faced him, to tell him off. Instead his lips contacted hers, in one of those embarrassing moments. Her mouth was still slightly open, from attempting to speak, and from astonishment at his audacity.

Hollie felt his tongue flicker over her lips, curl around her tongue then pull away. He pulled upon her lips, sucking on them. The strong clench she was in, took her breath away. She didn't even try to push him away. She stood there in shock.

"What class are you in?" he casually asked. 

The question seemed so banal, after what he had just done to her. Her heart was racing. She was standing in a corridor at school, in the arms of a hunky young boy, being molested. Though she couldn't say she had objected. That was a bad thing. She should have kicked him, or at least closed her mouth.

Hollie mumbled her class was history, all the while feeling small, and inadequate. She squirmed like a schoolgirl, as he reawakened those past times of awkwardness, with boys. 

"You kiss nice," he said.

The warm confident smile made her legs weak. "You, I mean WE, shouldn't have," she managed to say. She was blushing and couldn't look up at him. He had left her feeling demure and fragile. 

She held back from telling him she was a teacher. Damn! What would he say to his friends if he found out? He would brag about kissing the new teacher, leaving her reputation to plummet through the floor. It would be impossible after that, to control a class of young adolescents.

She tried to push him away, but the strong arm gripped her tight, as though she was nothing more than a light doll. 

"Let me go, please," she demanded. She held back from kicking him, as she needed to win back some rightness to the situation. 

"One more kiss for helping you!" he chuckled. 

She realised a student would have cursed, and fought him off pretty quickly. Either that, or encouraged him.  After all, most girls would have been infatuated, over having this attention from a school heart throb. He must be used to girls falling for him. 

An unsettling idea was suddenly realised, that she too, was affected by this handsome young man. Otherwise she would have tried harder to pull away from his embrace. His arms were casually wrapped around her body, leaving her feeling overpowered, and a little breathless.

"Hell!" she whispered. "The principal!" she warned him. 

As though she were a doll, he effortlessly picked her up, and squeezed between two machines to hide. He was certainly a smooth operator. The bag had been kicked with them, and he stood her on it. She was completely engulfed in his large frame, hidden away from anyone walking by.

He kissed her, deeply this time. The fear of discovery heightened her arousal beyond rational thought, for just a second. He was hiding her and protecting her, from a figure of power. She responded, before she could think properly. 

Hollie kissed him back, sucking on his mouth, entwining her tongue with his. The sheer naughtiness of it had her fired up. A strong hand pressed her bottom, squeezing her belly against the hardness in his jeans. 

She became hotter still, unable to resist responding, and pushed her sex against him. A spark of rational thought in the back of her mind, struggled to take back control. She recognised this was an utterly crazy moment. Any second the principal would walk by, and bring her short career to an end.

They heard a door open, and Mister Vincent was speaking to someone. 

"Come on, lets get out of here," Roger whispered. 

Hollie knew her hair and clothes were in disarray. So she too needed to make a break for it, besides, he had a firm hold of her hand. He pulled her with him, around the corner, out of sight. 

"We'll have to go back, the door is alarmed," she hissed at him. She heard the principal's heavy footsteps, becoming louder. She softly groaned, knowing what a condemning picture their presence together would make. Her blonde hair had been up, exposing her neck for coolness. It was now falling down in disorder. She tried to pull the dress straight, but the evidence of what they had been up to was clear. She looked guilty and he looked furtive.

She would have to do some fast talking to get out of this. 

Hollie was in the habit of letting others take the lead, and as usual she had given in to his strength of character. He was used to leading a gang, making instant decisions, and having them obeyed. 

As though in slow motion, she watched his hand, reach toward the door. A bleak image flashed into her mind, of the whole school being alerted by the alarm. They were staring at her, seeing her hand in hand with him, knowing they had been kissing. 

Bright sunlight slanted in, blinding her. The only sound was the cicadas chirping. She was so relieved the fire alarm hadn't been triggered, her spirits soared.

"I fixed the alarm, some time ago. This is my private exit," Roger explained.

Blinking her eyes, trying to regain her sight, she let him lead her for a few steps. Her heart was racing, her breathing in gasps, as though she had run a mile. The fear of being discovered left her excited. Before she knew what was happening, she fell into the back of a van. He tumbled in beside her, wrapping his arms around her in another clinch.

"Hey! Stop it right now!" she protested, only he was too quick for her. She tried to fend off his wandering hands, only they were everywhere at once. He was deeply kissing her, while she tried to hold him back. She was in what they used to call, a passion wagon. Her raucous past, at college, came racing back, leaving her feeling young and excited.

In her teens, she had envied the girls who had made it this far, with the school idols. A guy just like this one had been her love from afar. She had an enormous crush on him, though she dare not speak to him. This in part explained why she had given in to this young guy. She was now twenty-six, and no longer a teenager, so should have had better self-control.

The memories, old feelings, and yearnings, came to her in waves of nostalgia. Again she gave in to the onslaught of emotions firing her up. She kissed him back. The panic, the flight from an authority figure, sneaking out of school, threw back the years. She was in the back of a guy's wagon, feeling horny, being naughty.

In college she had shrugged off the high school, good girl image, to gain a bit of a reputation with the guys. There had also been a rumour, concerning her room mate. At a party they had cuddled and kissed, putting on quite a show. Next day they both put it down to teasing the guys, after having too much to drink. Though they remained cool, there was always the question over how much the teasing romp had meant. 

The difference was, she was a mature woman, no longer an innocent teenager. She was also a responsible teacher, threatening her own career, with a terrible moment of irresponsibility. It was irrational, yet she let the passionate embrace continue, telling her-self to stop, before it went too far. 

When she felt his hand in her panties, she had to put a stop to it. 

"Stop it! I'll scream!" she warned him. 

She was angry with herself, for letting it get so badly out of hand. She shouldn't be here, in this young guys van, let alone kissing him. Letting him put his hand in her panties was criminal. It was probably as bad as that. If not, it was certainly enough to destroy her career.

"OK! I won't push you. Are you sure you want everyone to know you're in here, with me?" he asked. "I'll drive you to the practice ground, and drop you off," he teased her.

Her reaction answered his question. The worried look indicated she wasn't just teasing him, leading him on, only to cry wolf. It was alright by him, if she had her limits. It was down to him to persuade her past them.

Hollie couldn't let him call her bluff. If he decided to take her, she dare not scream, or attract attention. He seemed alright, though this was a very tricky situation. He was massaging her thighs, with his fingertips, distracting her thoughts. Her head was on his shoulder, with her arm trapped under him. 

The last class had finished for the day, and the weekend. Hollie could hear that from the sounds of students buzzing around outside. So afraid of being found out, she stilled her breathing, as though that might help. 

Her body was as taught as a bow string. She was in a tight spot. Despite stopping him, she still hadn't fully recovered. Her body was tingling all over. She was starting to lose concentration, as her thoughts returned to mush form what he was doing to her. His hands were wandering over her body, and she dare not make a sound. There were students walking past the van. Yet again, she was losing the will to resist him. 

"We shouldn't be doing this," she tried again. The resolve in her voice had faded to a pathetic hollowness. She sounded as unsure as she felt. His fingertips were playing with her more subtly now, less aggressively. It was all the more difficult to resist. The wonderful sensations were wired directly into her brain, stirring thoughts around a central theme. "Mmmmm, that's nice," she gurgled. 

It was imperative to wait, until the parking lot was clear, before escaping from his van. In the meantime, he could entertainer he like this, producing marvellous sensations throughout her body. 

A hand massaged her ears and neck, and face. The other tickled the backs of her knees, her thighs, and higher. "Stop! Please!" she whispered. "Please stop," she pleaded with him. 

"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" he asked. 

"No, don't stop now!" she quietly gasped. He didn't push her thighs apart, they fell apart. She was opening up to him like a flower in the sunshine. His fingers felt like a busy bee, buzzing over her honey pot. The wings of a butterfly were teasing her lips. 

"Not my panties!" she moaned. The attempted protest hardly materialised. Just a few softly muttered words. This time she hadn't told him to stop, or even to leave her panties on. Hollie felt her hips rise up off the mattress, to let him remove her panties. She gulped for air and whimpered from the sensations he was stirring.

Her eyes flickered open, to find him looking deeply into her eyes. She couldn't shake off that profound stare. Her eyes were mere slits in her face, under creased eyebrows. Her face was screwing up into a sexual expression. 

His fingers continued to work her up, playing a naughty game with her rude bits. He pulled on her lips, sucked on a nipple, ran a finger over her bud. She wanted him to push her bell, to ring it long and hard. It was tinkling in her head, though she needed it to ring out loudly. 

She had been completely unaware of his change of position. One moment she was laying her head on his shoulder, the next, he was on top of her. His cock sawed over her clit, teasing it. It was especially sensitive since having a piercing there. Only the guy who pierced her knew of the rings existence. Now him! This young student knew her secret.

"Please," she moaned. Hollie lifted her hips. She shouldn't being doing this. Her resolve had been defeated from within, not by him. He was doing wonderful things to her but it was her own debased needs that made her so helpless. More than helpless, she was in dire need of satisfaction

It wasn't because he was a young, handsome man. A young, beautiful looking twenty-six year old woman didn't need his attention. A young handsome guy flattering her wasn't going to get into her knickers. It was the excitement of nearly being caught, doing something so wrong. The humiliation of being taken by a mere student, was heating her up to boiling point. 

"You want me to fuck you?" he asked. His voice was hoarse. The question was merely a confirmation of what he already knew. She was ready for it.

"Come on tell me, you little slut. Tell me you want to be fucked. Say it, slut," he harshly said.

"Yes! Fuck me!" she grunted. 

She was so carried away she tried to thrust up at him. The sound of students passing by the van enhanced the sense of danger, as though she were being taken in front of them. It felt as though she would be discovered any moment. How much more humiliating could it be, if she were climaxing at the moment they pulled open the doors. They would crowd around them, to see their teacher being fucked, by this young guy. They would think she was a slut, available to anyone. 

At that moment she was a dirty little slut, ready to fuck at any price. Needing to be fucked by anyone, for she needed that feeling of being filled. 

"Yes! Please fuck me, do me, fuck your slut, fuck me hard," she whimpered. The words were excruciating. Saying them was humiliating, yet they fuelled her passion. Feeling him enter her vagina was exhilarating to her nervous system. Her whole body quaked. Unable to move she lay back, letting him fuck her.

A loud bang, from someone playfully slapping the side of the van, stopped him suddenly, in mid stroke. His cock was half way in, halted on a deep thrust. 

Hollie thought they had been discovered, that this presaged the invasion of student faces, ready to watch them at it. The thought drove her wild. She bucked under him, unable to get what she needed. 

"Please! Fuck your dirty little slut! Your slut needs a good fucking! Slam your big powerful cock into your slut. Punish your pathetic slut for being so wanton," Hollie demanded. 

He pressed forward slowly. She needed him to fuck her hard. "Do it! Fuck me you bastard, fuck me hard," she cried out.

"Quiet bitch!" he whispered, and slapped her face. "I don't want an audience even if you do. You're a horny bitch and a good ride, but I don't want trouble," he warned her. "Just keep quiet you little slut, and I'll fuck you hard," he added.

Humiliation from begging him to fuck her was boiling her blood. It felt as though her veins were burning. Her nerves were liquid fire, pulsing charges into the pleasure centres of her brain. Her hips juddered under him as he finally climaxed. 

She wrapped her heels around his bottom, digging in, trying to halt his thrusts. She needed his cock inside, as deep as possible. She needed him to hold it still. He wasn't ready to stop now. He continued to pump, seesawing into her. A trigger point caught him off guard. He spurted cum into her. 

Hollie gripped her legs around him, as though squeezing every last drop of cum from him. She shuddered into a second orgasm. 

Everything was quiet outside. Hollie opened her eyes, to see his shoulder in close up. Without being aware of it, he had pulled her round onto him, for a close cuddle. It was a wonderful way to come around. Though, the situation was also very dangerous.

"My panties, can I have them back, please," Hollie asked. It was terribly embarrassing to ask a student for her panties. They were nowhere to be seen, so he had obviously hidden them. She figured he had stolen them as a trophy, adding them to a collection. There was no way she had been the first in this van. 

Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 02



Chapter 02

Hollie gets carried away

Hollie was jolted awake as the van bumped over a pothole. 

"Damn!" she exclaimed in surprise. Being driven away somewhere, in the back of a young students van, was not a good start to the weekend. It was bad enough for a young woman, let alone a teacher. She had become carried away during a silly mistake and now he was carrying her away physically. 

He mistook her for a student and before she could put him right, he took advantage of her vulnerable position. 

"Why in hell did I let this happen!" she grumbled. 

The answer was unpleasant to dwell upon. Like a silly schoolgirl she had become infatuated with the big handsome hunk. Thinking she was a fellow student, he manhandled her body working her up into such a state, she lost all sense of propriety. 

Before she knew what was happening she was trapped in his van, and he took her. He had helped himself to her body, while she made a feeble attempt to stop him. 

As a new teacher she was on probation, being tested on her ability to control a class of adolescents. This was a spectacular failure! She was in danger of losing not just the job, but her career as well. It was vital to put things right with him and to ensure his silence. It wasn't a pleasant prospect, though essential in saving her reputation.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, while leaning over his shoulder. 

"Home," he smiled.

"Keep your eyes on the road! You don't know where I live," she stated the obvious.

"I know where I live," Roger laughed at her.

"No! Just take me home," she told him. 

It would be easier on home ground to talk him into keeping the secret.

"I need to get changed, for tonight. I told the guys I'd meet them at a club," he explained. 

"Just drop me off on the way," she insisted.

"We're here. I'll drop you off later," he announced.

Reluctantly she got out of the van to follow him into an impressive looking house, in a good neighbourhood. At least he wasn't living in a rough area. They walked around the side of the house into a large, newly fitted kitchen. The first piece of luck was that the house seemed empty. It was quiet anyway.

Hollie imagined being introduced to his parents, vividly feeling how embarrassing that would be. She would have to behave like a young schoolgirl, while pretending to be his girlfriend. Being treated like an adolescent by a woman only a few years older than her, would be excruciating. 

"Come on," he prompted her. 

In trepidation she followed him up to his room. It felt as though she were getting deeper into trouble with every step, whereas the deplorable situation should be called to a halt. This was not the moment to tell him she was a teacher. She felt vulnerable from being close to the big guy and he still had her panties. She couldn't face the embarrassment of asking for them back.

"You take a shower and I'll get you some clean clothes," he said. He took her arm to turn her before a large mirror. 

Hollie looked at the dress, soiled with their mess from love making. No! It was just sex. They had been two animals, rutting in the back of his van. Damn! She was both angry and ashamed. Without a word spoken she took the hint from his pointing finger and walked into the adjoining bathroom. It was surprisingly well kept and contained all she wanted. 

Emerging refreshed from the shower she dried her hair. There was no hurry as his parents were away. She realised all this was just ploy to put off the moment of confrontation. A deep sigh signalled the moment couldn't be put off any longer. It was then she noticed the dress and bra were missing. 

"Damn! The little shit!" she whispered. 

She wrapped a towel around her naked body and marched out to confront him. 

"I bet that feels better," he smiled. "Your clothes are there. It's my turn for a shower. You can join me if you like," he teased. 

The look of dark cloud of anger on her face told him all he needed to know. He skipped off to the bathroom, oblivious of any wrong doing. He was obviously still feeling exhilarated from having sex. Roger was just eighteen and care free, not yet having to face up to the responsibilities of adulthood. 

She was glad to see the clothes on the bed, so was mollified a little. It would be awful to wear that dress after a cleansing shower. If only she could have washed away that dreadful mistake so easily. At least he was civilised enough to let her dress in privacy. She picked the skirt up and dropped it, as though it had stung her fingers. 

"Damn!" she shouted, hoping he would hear. She picked up the top, knowing it too would be unsuitable. Clenching them in one hand she marched into the bathroom.

"I can't wear these!" she shouted, to be heard above the roaring shower. He stepped out with suds dripping from a powerful physique. She gulped. Eventually, she turned her head away, feverishly blushing. 

"They should fit you as you're about my sister's size. I know they match, because I've seen her wearing them both," he said, looking bemused. "You sure you don't want to share a shower?" he asked, with a cheeky grin on his face.

"No! I'll try them on," Hollie replied, trying not to look him over. As he got back into the shower she couldn't help checking out his cute ass. Her face flushed pink from the naughty suggestion and her reaction to his nakedness. She had been tempted! 

She quickly left to pull on the clothes. It was better than being naked in this gorgeous young man's bedroom. It wouldn't take much effort to rip off the towel, leaving her completely naked in his bedroom. She suppressed the thought, not daring to go any further with it. 

Just as she feared, the situation was getting worse. A student was dictating the clothes she had to wear. On his sister, or an eighteen year old, the outfit would look cute. As a mature woman she felt stripped of her authority and position. He was dressing her up like an adolescent leaving her feeling all the more under his power.

"I'm a teacher and a responsible adult. This has all gone far enough," she whispered, trying to keep her feelings in check.

"You look great!" he beamed at her. 

Despite her resolve, his brash young enthusiasm flustered her. The imposing posture she had struck, ready to confront him, immediately dissolved. Instead she stood there as though she were his girl. It had to be admitted, she was his girl, until this mess was straightened out.

He took a hold of her arm, forcing her to look into the mirror, which she had avoided up until now. 

"You look gorgeous, good enough to eat," he breathed into her ear. 

His arm snaked around her waist. He had a towel wrapped around his bottom half so she felt his muscular stomach against her bare back. He was so big and strong, it left her feeling weak and vulnerable under his charming smile.

She was dressed in a skirt well above the knee and a blouse tied under the bust. There was too much cleavage on show, and she was sure his sister wouldn't have worn a thong under such a short skirt.

In the mirror she saw two young people, still innocent of the uncertainties of adulthood. It wasn't just the clothes that made her look and feel so young. His natural youthful exuberance was again getting to her, carving away the years and heavy responsibly that went with it.

He was nuzzling her neck, kissing her ears, licking her. The fresh smell of a clean male body was a heady perfume. In the mirror she saw the towel fall and felt a hardness pressing against her bottom. It was so easy to let it happen to those two carefree youths in the mirror, as though it was happening to someone else.

He bent her forward, or she pushed back against him, it was difficult to tell. The short skirt was no barrier between them. She felt his cock caressing the cleft between her cheeks. This time she did push back against him, manoeuvring her body into position. 

Bent forward, she had to press her hands against the mirror, with a close up of her sex face. She felt his cock saw over the crotch of the thong. She couldn't give into him again! No! 

The youth in the mirror was his girl. The drowsy looking eyes, the flared nostrils, the open mouth sucking in air, all meant the girl was ready for her young, virile lover. An urgent hardness pressed against her lips, eliciting a moan of pleasure. He changed the angle and lifted her up on her toes. 

"Oh! Yes!" she groaned. The girl in the mirror was being taken. Hollie knew she deserved it, wanted it, and needed it. Hollie wanted it too.

Roger penetrated her deeply. He pushed with strong muscular legs, driving his hard cock into her vagina, feeling it grip tight. Experience counted for nothing now, as he worked on instinct.

"Fuck me harder," she moaned.

After this afternoons session he was in less of a hurry and in more control. 

"Harder? You're such a naughty little slut," he said, through gritted teeth. 

"Yes, yes, I'm you're naught little slut. Just fuck me faster," she pleaded. 

Hollie had experience from college days, with quick furtive sessions. Since then she had been too busy building a career to have a mature lover. She was back in those days of heady, irresponsible encounters.

He slowly pushed up, lifting her onto her toes again. It felt so good, so deep, filling her up with hard cock, but she wanted more. 

"Fuck your slut faster," she moaned. With half shut eyes she focused on the girl in the mirror, watching her being fucked by the big strong man. It was mesmerising and so hot, she was willing to give her all to her lover. The strong image of a slut being taken had her behaving like one. It released her inhibitions.

"Fuck me faster, you bastard, just do me, fill me up!" she demanded.

"Alright slut, I'll fuck your brains out, you dirty little slut," he growled back at her.

He squeezed her breasts and thrust upward, faster and faster. Gripping hold of her body he rocked her back and forth in a frenzy of movement. He would show the bitch how fast he could fuck! He didn't need her telling him what to do! He needed to cum, not wanting to hold back, only he wasn't ready.

Hollie started to moan meaningless words then cried out. "I'm cumin, don't stop now!" she pleaded.

He was holding on to an inert body, as though she had fainted. He stopped, with his cock buried deep inside her body. 

"Don't move, please," she whispered.

The tremors of her orgasm intrigued him. The feeling of her vagina gripping tight almost made him cum. He was still hard, but she was slipping from him. He let her sink to the floor onto her knees, and turned her around.

Her mouth hung open as a tempting invitation. 

Hollie had very rarely taken a guy into her mouth, no liking it much, getting nothing from it. This time she was in the throws of a deep, all consuming orgasm. She licked the underside of the cock in her mouth and sucked on it. She couldn't take it down her throat. 

The big cock bulged out her cheek on the inward stroke. She sucked in air on the outward stroke. He had her hair gripped tight as he worked her head back and forth. The wildness driving his earlier movements was at last lost, as he carefully used her mouth.

This time he did orgasm. The sight of the slut giving head, seeming to enjoy it, was enough. He spurted cum into her mouth. He wanted to ram his cock deep into her but held back, not wanting to hurt her. He felt every drop pass through the small eye of his cock. 

He watched her swallowing his spunk, enjoying the feeling as she continued to suck on him. The image of her on her knees, with his cock in her mouth, gave him a feeling of power over her. She was just a small, pleasurable thing on the end of his cock. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a stupid blonde slut.

He left her on the floor while he went to the bathroom. There was hardly any need to wash up, for she had licked him clean.

Hollie squatted on the floor where he left her. Hell! That was so wrong, yet so powerfully good. She felt worn out. She had been thoroughly fucked. What in hell was she going to say to him now? 

She straightened herself up, pulling the blouse in place, smoothing down the skirt. She looked away from him when he walked back in. The embarrassment was terrible. It ran deep through her. He would have to be told before they went back to school. The very thought of that conversation left her feeling highly ashamed. 

"Come on, we need to go," he said. 

He looked sheepish, as though he was disappointed. Was he disillusioned with her? For god's sake she had performed that nasty thing for him, what did he expect from her. As they walked in silence to his van she thought about it, wondering what she had done to upset him. 

"Where to?" he asked. 

The enthusiasm and sparkle between them had dissolved. Hollie should have been relieved. He was no longer teasing her and heating her up. Instead she felt a deep loss. As wrong as it was he had been an intense lover and she still felt the warmth of an after glow. She felt a strong bond between lovers had been lost.

A thought smacked her in the face. He was an inexperienced young man, so did that mean he was shocked when she sucked him off? Before she could sensor the words she blurted out what she felt to be the fault.

"I don't do that, not before, ever," she stammered. 

"What?" he shot back at her.

"All of it. We haven't even been on a date. I don't usually fall into bed with a guy," she spoke up, with an accusatory tone of voice. His reaction confirmed what she thought. It wasn't going right she was saying it all wrong.

"We didn't go to bed," he said. 

His voice sounded lighter now. She wished guys could talk about things. She would have to though.

"You know what I mean," she sighed.

"Why did you then?" he asked.

"I guess you swept me off my feet. You didn't give me much of a chance in your van. You had me trapped," he was listening so she pushed on. "It was nice though, I'm not complaining, just saying. I don't want you to think I do that sort of thing. You are such a nice guy and I like you," she said. 

Hollie felt like a stupid young girl again. It was terrible trying to explain something he wouldn't understand. She was a woman not an inexperienced young girl. That must be it! He thought she was a slut! A schoolgirl wouldn't have behaved like that. Nor would she, so why did it happen?

"It's OK. I guess I got carried away too," he smiled at her.

"Keep your eyes on the road, please," she protested. 

He laughed. The atmosphere had risen to its previous light hearted friendliness. Her heart began to beat rapidly and she laughed with him. 

"You'll have to come in, we need to talk," Hollie earnestly told him.

"I don't want to meet your parents," he sheepishly told her.

"I've got an apartment. No messing around though. You know what I mean!" she laughed.

Making the coffee distracted her, letting her thoughts idle for a moment. She wondered how he would take it. It would be a big deal to him, and of course it was important for her. 

"There's something I've got to tell you. Don't say a word," she sternly warned him. "Just listen, please," she added.

He was sitting across from her on the sofa. He jokingly tried to look up her skirt, though the grimace she gave him calmed him down. There were questions about why she had her own apartment, but she had avoided answering all his questions. 

"Look, err, shit I don't even know your name," she groaned, in despair.

"Roger," he laughed at her.

Hollie felt a pang of guilt over that. She had sex with a young guy, twice, and didn't even know his name. She was a slut!

"OK! Roger. My names not Margaret, its Hollie," she took a deep breath. "I'm not eighteen I'm twenty-six. I guess that's why I did those things, I mean, I've got more experience than you expected," she stumbled, but didn't let him interrupt. Anyway, he just sat there looking confused.

"You are a good looking young man and I was flattered from the attention you gave me. No! I'm saying it all wrong. You remember what happened by the drinks machine. It was just an accident. It all got out of hand. You bundled me into your van before I got a chance to explain. I'm really sorry I didn't mean it to happen," she blurted out.

"What about your school bag?" he quietly asked.

"It's Margaret's, I was taking it to her when I bumped into you," Hollie explained. 

"Are you her sister?" he asked. 

The screwed up thoughtful look on his face meant he was trying to catch up, trying to make sense of what she was saying, wondering how it affected the two of them.

"No, she's not my sister. She's in my class. I'm a teacher," she carefully said. Her hands shook in anticipation of an outburst. Roger would be disappointed or maybe disgusted with her. He just sat there staring at her.

She tried to reach for the coffee only her hand shook too much, so she changed her mind. She clamped both hands into her lap. The bare thighs seemed so indecent now. She wished she had thought to change into a pair of jeans.

"You can't be a teacher! No!" he blustered.

"I am. I'm truly sorry! I shouldn't have done those things. It's not fair on you, I'm the one to blame," she almost broke down and cried.

"Am I in trouble?" he asked.

"No! It's my fault. I'm the one who would be in trouble if anyone found out. Please promise me you won't tell anyone, please, Roger," Hollie finally let go, with large tear drops splashing onto her thighs.

"Of course," he lamely said. He sat back on the sofa, looking at her.

She could almost feel his thoughts. He was going over what had happened, what they had done together. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. She looked down at her hands gripping them tightly together. 

He lent over and put his arms around her. He kissed her tears. When he started kissing her lips she clamped them tightly shut.

"No! Please, we can't. Never again, sorry, I don't want to hurt you. I didn't mean for it to happen," she murmured.

"I want to. I want it to happen again. You enjoyed it didn't you?" he said. It was simple for him. He was young and everything was straight forward. 

"It's not as simple as that. I could lose my job and ruin my career," she said, sounding as though she were begging him. 

"You started it and I say when it's finished," he told her. 

He lifted her up out of the seat and took her place, letting her rest on his lap. He cuddled her, rocking her, stroking her hair. 

"Its all right, I won't tell anyone, no-one will find out. It'll be our secret," he told her.

Oh! Shit! Hollie thought it would be difficult, but this was impossible. He wasn't much more than a boy, so what did she expect. A mature man would probably react the same way. If she told a boyfriend it was all over she couldn't just throw him out, or there would be a nasty scene.

She dare not throw Roger out, as she needed his good will. She needed his silence.

"Not now, Roger, please. I've got to get my head straight, I need to rest," she told him. She didn't physically push him away. "Finish your coffee," she told him, and blew her nose noisily. 

"Come round tomorrow and we'll talk about what we're going to do. I need a good night of rest, to think straight. You too, it must be a shock for you," she firmly stated.

"Just a hug, lets keep it calm and sensible," she said, at the door.

He left looking bewildered. She hoped he wouldn't return, but knew he would. At least he hadn't shouted at her. He might tomorrow, when the shock wore off. Damn! She needed him to turn up so she could work on him, to make sure he kept the awful secret. 



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 03



Chapter 03

A whole weekend together

Next day Roger turned up at her apartment, as arranged. She half expected to find him on her doorstep when she got up. Instead, Hollie waited for him all day, becoming more nervous with every hour that passed. A touch of excitement had to be suppressed, or she would have left the apartment to avoid him.

In any case, he was only just eighteen so it would be possible to out manoeuvre him, as she had the advantage of age and experience. From the moment she opened the door she sought to take charge of the situation.

"Come in. Sit down, we need to talk," she stated.

"Not so friendly this morning." Roger complained.

"We need to sort this out. I feel terrible with this hanging over my head," she stated.

"What about me? Don't I get a say?" he asked.

"Sorry. I guess so, yes, of course you do. Well, what did you have in mind?" she rashly asked. 

"After what we did I thought I meant something to you," he said. 

Hollie was embarrassed from being reminded of last night's foolishness. She opened her mouth to speak and shut her mouth. She was momentarily halted from a well rehearsed speech. The hurt expression on his face, from her seeming indifference, wrenched at her feelings.

It would be hard work but she had to gain the upper hand, and convince him he wouldn't get his own way. First she had to make him think she would consider his proposal.

"I know. I feel terrible too. Tell me what you want to do about it. Come on, don't clam up on me. We really do need to talk about it," she said, sounding more sympathetic.

"I guess I thought we could carry on as before, only keep it a secret, just between the two of us," he quickly said. He was looking hopeful. He looked at her wondering what she would say. He expected her to refuse him, but then why did she do it in the first place?

Roger watched her squirm uncomfortably in the chair. He looked her over, remembering the schoolgirl, his girl, the one that fucked like no-one he had ever known. His eyes lit up with expectation when she didn't reject him outright. She seemed to be thinking about his proposal. There was a chance, and he didn't want to blow it by saying the wrong thing.

'Oh! No!' She thought. 'I've got an adolescent boy, full of hormones, looking at me like I'm a sweet shop of delights.' His expression clearly showed he meant it He really did think they could carry on from that awful mistake of last night. 

"I can't, I mean WE can't. It's wrong, Roger. I need you to promise me not to tell anyone. We can remain friends," she quickly added.

"Don't you remember what we did? You were such a slut yesterday. Now you're sitting there as though nothing happened, pretending to be a blameless teacher. I can't forget it, even if you can. Why should I keep you're secret, tell me that," he blurted out. 

He suddenly stood up feeling hurt, knowing he had blown it. He hadn't meant to talk to her like that. He called a teacher a slut! 

Hollie stood up too, thinking she had lost his co-operation, not wanting him to storm off.

Before she had a chance to say anything he gripped her tightly, kissed her lips and neck.

"I want you Hollie," he breathed in her ear.

"I'm sorry, Roger, but this is all wrong, it's got to stop," she protested.

He grabbed a breast and squeezed it roughly. She squirmed in his strong grip, trying to break free. Despite her protestations he was turning her on. She opened her mouth to shout at him. He blocked the words with a deep kiss. She had to stop him! She must!

The squirming away turned to a pressing of her body against his. She knew it was wrong. The feelings of last night came flooding back, and the full on force knocked out her reticence. The better judgement desperately clung to, became swamped under a hail of kisses. His hands wandered over her body.

"This is what I want," he breathed heavily. 

Her imagination ran riot. Her career lay in ruins before she had even got started. The feeling of danger and excitement brushed aside all defences, like a hurricane laying flow a grass hut. She hadn't the slightest experience to cling to that would help cope with this situation. 

All she could do was bend with the wind, so as not to break down altogether. Surely she could cope with his demands once more. Afterwards she would find a way to calm him down. Afterwards? No! She mustn't give in, this was crazy! 

As an experienced woman she should be able to wrestle back control of the situation. Letting him kiss her until he realised she wasn't going to react, or let it go any further, was the only thing she could do. 

The two piece tracksuit was supposed to be a shapeless unattractive turn off. This too proved to be a mistake. He pulled it up, ignoring the feeble efforts to stop him. His youthful passion was intent on one thing and he wasn't taking no for an answer. He didn't hear or ignored her weak protests.

As she struggled her arms became entangled in the baggy top. Holding her tight in one strong arm, he pulled the bra up and she froze. With the top over her head, engulfing her arms, she felt trapped. Her muffled protests were made between heavy breaths. Was it from the exertion fighting him off, or from arousal?

He kissed a nipple, and sucked a breast into his mouth. He was making a fairly sloppy job of it, but it felt good. She struggled harder to get free, only to fall onto the sofa.

The loose bottoms were pulled off with ease, leaving her in an old bra and knickers. This too was chosen to put him off, though she hadn't anticipated he would get this far. The old panties were loose enough for the crotch to be pulled aside. 

While lips teased her nipples, a hand explored between her legs. She clamped her thighs together. He stroked them with finger tips. The sensations were delicious. Her whispered no's turned to less subtle yes's. 

His fumbling from a lack of experience was made up for with youthful exuberance. He was all over her, bombarding a neglected body with wonderful sensations. 

Only when raising her hips to guide him in, was it realised how carried away she had become. She desperately needed him to stop, but it was too late. She pushed up at him as he thrust at her, again and again. 

Completely absorbed by the sensations coursing through her body, she positioned her hips to maintain the sensations coursing from an engorged bud into her mind. She was blindfolded by the top. This too heightened the sensations. She tried to reach out to him, only her arms were caught up in the tracksuit top. 

She felt helpless. She was trapped in a world of wonderful sensations, bombarding her mind and body. She was on the edge, wanting to orgasm, yet wanting the tremendous earthy feelings to last. 

With breathy whimpers of delight from her, and groans of satisfaction from him, they at last collapsed in a sweaty heap. She felt him pumping her full of youthful, invigorating sperm, right up inside her body. 

She imagined feeling his potent cum inside and groaned a mournful sound. 

She let him cuddle her, while she tried to bring the right words together to tell him something. Eventually she settled on the simple truth. "That was wonderful, Roger. I've never ever felt like this," she said, with a light whispery sound. 

He pulled the top away from her head. He stroked her hair and kissed her neck. She knew how close she was to saying she loved him. Trying to remind her self it was all very wrong, feelings tore her apart.

Other excuses came and went. He was over eighteen, but she was a teacher, and that made it wrong. In a moment of weakness she agreed to continue. She was a responsible adult yet she had submitted to him. There hadn't been the slightest chance of resisting, when bathed in the afterglow of a wonderful orgasm.

They spent the rest of the weekend together, in the privacy of their own small made-up world. Being apart from everyone and everything, Hollie could forget her responsibilities. He pushed aside her moral inhibitions, leaving her feeling like a young girl again. 

She was his girl. She gave in completely to his demands, becoming delirious with pleasure. If he had threatened her with blackmail she might have had something to fight against. Instead she had to fight against her own feelings, and they had overpowered her Friday evening, in his van.

"You can't put those baggy sweats back on. Let's see what you've got in this wardrobe," he told her. It was almost a repeat of Friday night. He was choosing what she was to wear. It wasn't meant in a high handed way, he was genuinely curious and interested. This was another first for her. 

"This looks familiar, wear this. Go on, please," he said. His eyes were full of seductive promise. Standing before him naked, was too dangerous, so she had to give in.

"Alright, let me get dressed, will you?" she light-heartedly complained. "I'd rather wear the thong than those old things," she said, and regretted it, as he found them in the pile of clean washing.

"Why don't you do your hair in pig tails?" he asked. 

There was a mischievous look on his face, which had to be figured out. What was he up to? Knowing he would tease her into it, she sat at the dressing table, pulling her long blonde hair into two clumps. He helped curl the cords of hair so they formed cute loops. When she put her head to one side the pig tails swayed and waggled.

"I look so cute," Hollie said, in a little girly voice. She clasped her hands below her chin, and smiled sweetly. The exaggerated pose emphasised the sarcastic remark. She fluttered eyelashes at him. "Am I your cute little girly, sir," Hollie asked.

"Yes, you certainly are," he laughed. "Seriously though, stop the vamping and look in the mirror," he suggested. He posed with her. 

He was holding her shoulders tight, with a pair of big strong hands. A wave of deep felt comfort washed over her. It knocked the playfulness from her, as though she had been winded.

"We look right together don't we? We look around the same age. If anything, dressed like that you look younger," Roger said.

"So that's what you were up to. You're very persuasive," Hollie replied. Her head lent from one side to the other, studying the two of them from different angles. "I guess. In an ill-lit room, or after dark, we might get away with it," she conceded.

She put her hand on his, hardly covering it with the tiny mitt. She remembered a boyfriend crudely telling her small hands looked good wrapped around his cock. Roger wasn't like that at all, he was kind and thoughtful. 

He reminded her of a high school heart throb, that she worshipped from afar, never daring to speak to him With the benefit of experience she realised he wasn't half the man Roger is. Neither were those short term boyfriends in college.

"OK! Whatever you want, I'm all yours," she rashly announced. 

"Food, I'm hungry," he replied. 

"No! You can't eat me! Put me down! Well, maybe for afters," she cheekily asserted. 

"For the rest of the evening you have to use that stupid blonde voice. No! You promised, what ever I want," he laughed. 

"All right, I will, right, OK! Like! Yea!" she pouted at him. She figured he would get fed up of the silly girly voice before she did. "Like, I want, pizza, OK! Yea?" she told him.

He laughed. Thinking she had it all wrong. The accent and giggle was good, but she didn't quite have the words right. "I'll order the pizza. I don't think they'll take you seriously," he smiled.

"Like, is that a compliment? Like, I'm just a dizzy little blonde, yea! I'm an airhead, so, like, they shouldn't take me seriously. Well, like, are you hungry, or what? Like, get ordering, big handsome boyfriend, like now!" she said, vamping it up, with flashing eyelashes.

When he left to order the pizza she continued with the make-up. Finding some additions to the outfit, Hollie looked the part more than ever. Walking into the kitchen she was pleased to see a shocked look on his face. 

"Wow! You look fantastic. I don't usually like that look but you look real. I mean you could walk down the street with me and no one would notice. Well, you would turn heads for sure, you look terrific. Very nice! But they wouldn't think you're older," he said, with a pleased look on his face.

"Right, like your bitch is glad like, my boyfriend is pleased, like," she said, with the girly tone of voice.

Roger noticed she had called him her boyfriend this evening, twice! He said nothing, thinking she had said it unthinkingly while playing the role. It was true she did look and sound just like a dumb blonde. 

"You could easily be mistaken for a young girl, younger than me even," he earnestly told her. "OK! Don't believe me, try it out on the pizza delivery guy," he dared her.

"Keep out of the way or I'll laugh and give the game away. If I call you, come and help me out. OK?" she warned him.

"Don't forget the voice," he said.

Hollie rummaged around in a draw to find some gum. Chewing it and pulling on it, she winked at him. The mischievous game had her behaving like a naughty schoolgirl. The door bell rang and she watched him disappearing into the bedroom. With apprehension she answered the door. It didn't feel so funny any more.

"Pizza," the guy started to say something, only to stop with his mouth open. 

She was unused to such an obvious reaction. Hollie just stood there, unsure of herself, thinking he was bound to find her out.

"Is your aunt there?" he asked. 

"Like, what?" she asked, using the dumb blonde voice and expression.

"Are you Holies niece?" he asked. 

Hollie hesitated. No! No! Not him! She recognised the guy. He delivered to her apartment only a week ago. The fat greasy guy was a nuisance. It dawned on her she had lied about going out to pick up her niece, last time he was there, just to get rid of him. She also remembered his brother was in her class. 

"Like, yea! I'm Susan. Like, aunt Hollie is out," she told him. 

"You got your aunts permission to order this?" he asked. 

"Like, well yea," Hollie said. She wondered if she should pretend it was a fancy dress party outfit. The way he was looking at her made her feel defensive. He was looking down her cleavage, with bright piggy eyes.

"I can see the family resemblance. You're blonde too," he lamely commented.

"Like, the pizza is getting cold!" Hollie impatiently stated, while holding out her hand. 

"You had better pay for it. I can't put it on your aunt's account," he said, with a smirk on his face. He was enjoying watching the girl squirm. She was obviously doing something she shouldn't.

Glad to turn away from him she fetched a note. 

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Like, what?" she responded, worrying he had tumbled to the stupid game. 

"You can have the pizza, but not the beer. You look under eighteen, way too young for it," he grinned. 

Hollie dropped the note in surprise. Damn! Roger had asked them to stop off for beer! How could he be so stupid? 

"OK! Like no problem," she said, while bending over to pick the note up. Standing up she noticed him staring over her shoulder. He had spied on her in the mirror! The shitty young guy had seen her bare ass in the mirror. Damn! There was no way she could back out now. 

The pretence had to be kept up, or he would tell his brother. It would go around the class on Monday that the teacher was dressed like a slut, showing off her bare ass. There was no telling where the story might end up. Oh! Hell! It would be much worse if Roger appeared from the bedroom.

Hollie smiled up at him. She put on her best imitation of a dumb blonde routine. She had seen others do it to a guy, to get what they wanted. It had always been an objectionable act in her eyes. 

He was looking at her, studying her face with a curious expression. She looked down at her feet, squirming like a stupid schoolgirl, as a ploy to avoid looking at him.

"Like, sorry sir. I was going to take them to a friends place. The girls were just going to have one each, that's all," Hollie lied, with her best, innocent girly voice. On a moment of impulse she dropped the note again. Bending over would keep his thoughts away from her face.

She stole a glance at him, to see his expression turn to lust. He looked down her cleavage again. She felt dirty having to play up to this obscene guy. Thrusting out her breasts at him seemed an obvious ploy. At that moment it was realised, she was enjoying leading the poor guy on.

"I can give you a ride to your friends place," he offered. 

"Err, like, its, OK," Hollie stammered. The thought of being driven off by this fat guy was bad. The image of being pawed in is delivery truck, with those fat fingers was nasty. The humiliation of being treated like a silly dumb blonde was turning her on. 

This young guy thought she was an available slut, so of course he was turned on by her. He wanted to whisk her away to a party of drunken girls. It was no wonder the poor guy was glowing with lust. 

"Like, err, it's been cancelled, her parent came home," Hollie explained.

"You can have the party at my place if you like," he offered.

"Like, well, I guess I'll just wait for aunt Hollie to get back. You can keep the beer, and keep the change too," Hollie offered.

He looked at her with a mournful expression. He was used to rejection and could accept it even better than an opportunity. He took the note and thanked her.

She quickly closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. She was trembling with arousal from the danger of exposure.

"Did you hear that?" Hollie excitedly asked. 

"Yea! He was fooled, he wanted to take you out," Roger laughed. "You shouldn't have shown him your ass, though," he teased. "I might have to spank you for that, young girl," he scolded her. 

"Like, not now, like, the pizza is getting cold, you know," she teased him back. 

For the rest of the evening, she couldn't stop talking like one of her students. The eighteen year old in mind wasn't stupid, but she certainly sounded like it. Hollie took great pleasure in mimicking her. The game had her treating Roger as though he was an older boyfriend. Deferring to him and asking for permission for everything she did, became part of the game.

He enjoyed treating her like a young, airhead girlfriend. It was just possible to forget she was a teacher. He could see she was enjoying the game, guessing it was a means of escape from responsibility.

"Hey! What are you doing," he said. Startled from a spray of water, he saw the empty washing up bottle in her hand, and grabbed a wrist. The top came loose and soaked him. "Come here naughty girl," he demanded.

He was going to sit her on his lap to wet her too. Instead, she fell over his knee. She tried to squirm free, but he put a hand on her back pinning her there. The little skirt was up around her waist, revealing a tempting bare bottom. All that covered it was the string of the thong, between her cheeks. 

"You can share the wet patch too. Just look at your bare ass. You're such a naughty girl this evening, you're showing it off to everyone," he playfully scolded her.

"I can show off my ass to anyone I like. The pizza guy liked it!" she teased.

Roger couldn't resist it. He slapped her bottom lightly. "What do you say naughty girl," he asked, trying to sound firm. 

Hollie blew a rude noise, so he slapped her upturned bottom again. It struck harder this time. 

"Ouch, that hurt. Get off me you brute," she squealed and vigorously wriggled. 

"Not until you calm down and apologise," he said, and slapped her again, to emphasis the point.

Hollie felt his hard cock pressing against her bare midriff and couldn't help squirming against it. All her inhibitions and upright moral standards had been lost while playing.

Roger slapped her ass again. She didn't complain and was even pressing herself against his cock. He wanted to unzip the jeans and take her. Controlling the urge he slapped her again. He could see how wet her pussy was becoming, so wanted to explore this newly discovered excitement.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 03



It had an effect upon him too. Spanking his teacher was a marvellous new experience. This would be a revolutionary practice in class. Whenever a teacher upset the class, she could be put over her desk for a humiliating spanking. Students would certainly be treated with respect then!

One more slap stopped the thrashing around. His teacher was breathing heavily, pressing her thighs together. He could see the puffy lips protruding lewdly between them. The desire to just take her was pulling at him, but he had to see how far he could go. 

"Stand up you naughty girl," he told her.

"Sorry sir," Hollie mumbled. 

She stood before him squirming like a naughty school girl. It couldn't be helped. The game with the pizza guy had her so stoked up she couldn't shake off the humiliating role. This young guy had spanked her, in her apartment. The feeling of being his naughty airhead girlfriend had thoroughly overtaken her. Lost in the role play, she just stood there, waiting to be played with.

Oh! How she wanted to be played with! So much it hurt!

"You've been a naughty girl. What do you say?" he sternly demanded.

"Sorry I showed off my bottom to the pizza guy, sir," she ruefully admitted. 

"You are so naughty, I'm sure you will be showing off your ass to others. I'll have to spank you then," he scolded her.

"Yes, sir. You should spank your naughty girl, to keep her in place," Hollie mischievously replied.

"What do you want now?" he asked, clearly knowing what it was, wondering if she would admit it.

"You know what your naughty girl wants, sir!" she painfully said.

"Say it then," he teased.

"Err, mmmm. Your naughty girl wants a good fucking sir," she mumbled. Hollie blushed and looked down at the floor between her feet, squirming from the deep embarrassment. Her fingers were locked behind her back and she pressed her thighs together. 

This young guy was doing something terrible to her. Before him she squirmed with arousal, being reduced to a stupid slut. She lost all control, leaving him in charge of her body and mind. He was playing with her, teasing her into asking for it. It was excruciating knowing she would submit to anything to get what she needed. 

"Get undressed," he quietly spoke. 

He felt his cock twitch in his jeans. Already hard it now ached to be used. It took a lot of self control not to stroke it through his jeans. A teacher was standing before him vibrating with sexual energy. It was hard to believe this pathetic creature was an authority figure in school.

He had dressed her like a slut of a girl, just to play a naughty game. He hadn't expected her to behave like one. She hesitated with both hands on the top. He looked at her willing her to do it. It was obvious she was reluctant to strip in front of him. 

Shit! The gorgeous slut was a teacher, of course she was nervous! She seemed to be fighting herself, reluctant to take this big step. He didn't know what to say; what might encourage her, and what might discourage her. All he knew was that he wanted this beautiful woman.

"Do you want me to spank you," he stated.

He watched her chin drop and her breathing increased to loud gasps. The decision was taken and he had won. The top was slowly pulled up to reveal her breasts. He wanted to lunge at them they were so enticing. The nipples were standing out so hard and luscious they looked as though they needed sucking.

Slowly she loosened and pulled down the skirt. It was a reluctant movement yet a relief to have bared herself to him. Hooking both thumbs into the panties she pulled them down. A great sigh of resignation escaped her mouth. She pouted full red lips at him hoping for approval. 

It was humiliating and exciting to be standing naked before a student, while he looked her over. Despite the shame she needed his approval, needed him to be pleased with her. 

"What's that? Open your thighs," he demanded.

She couldn't give in to something so rude, but her body moved of its own accord. With a look of anguish on her face, she parted her legs. 

"You have a piercing stud," he said.

"Yes, sir," she answered. It was a surprise that she called him sir, but it reflected how she felt. Being his naked, spanked girl left her feeling so very small and fragile. 

"You are a slut. A beautiful, gorgeous, slut," he smiled.

"I'm your slut, sir," she murmured. The smile on his face was one of approval, not just lust. It wasn't right to be grateful for this young guy's approval. She was a beautiful woman, not a silly blonde bimbo. 

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked. The audacity of the statement, asking a teacher if she wanted him to fuck her, struck him hard. He was bouncing with sexual excitement.

"Oh! Yes, please fuck me, sir," she wailed. Hollie collapsed upon the sofa, on him, feeling his arms wrap tightly around her naked body. His hot kisses were wonderful. He lifted her up to suck on her sensitive breasts. It was all his, everything, her body and soul were his.

***

Sunday evening soon came around too soon. Stretched out, cuddling on the sofa, they watched a romantic comedy together. It surprised her that he wanted to, as previous boyfriends her own age had been disinterested. She looked at him closely, wondering yet again what she had gotten into. He was an attentive lover and was fun to be with. He was too damn addictive!

"Its time for you to go home," Hollie stated, no longer using the little girly voice. "I need to prepare for Monday. No! You know what will happen, I just can't resist you. Haven't you had enough? Stop it, leave me alone. I'm not a toy," she laughed. 

Eventually, after much cajoling, kisses, and teasing, he relented. Hollie tried not to show that she wanted him to stay. It was difficult being tough when she felt so weak. Why did he have to be a student? He was a wonderful lover, and matched her needs so perfectly. 

If she could avoid bumping into him during school, it would give her a chance to recover. The impression was that he cared for her, so she had to remind herself he was just an adolescent. He was just playing around, using her to explore his sexual prowess, even though it was in such a delightful way.

As a teacher and a responsible adult, this madness would have to stop. Hollie hoped once in school, she could use her authority to put him in his place. The thought of facing him in school after this weekend of debauchery, was dreadful. Nevertheless it was imperative to halt this affair before she was found out.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 04



Chapter 04

Embarrassed in School

Hollie walked down the corridor thinking about the next class. By the drinks machine, where she had first bumped into Roger, was a knot of students. They parted to let her get to the machine. Before she could open her purse he loomed before her. He was standing there, tall and handsome as when she first met him. 

Her heart fluttered. He hadn't seen her. Roger and a girl were conversing. She was fluttering her eyelashes at him, primping her hair and smiling up at him. The damn girl was unashamedly flirting with her lover! 

As a teacher there was nothing she could say or do. Hollie wanted to pull the girls hair, scratch her face with sharp fingernails, and slap the silly grin from the young face. Instead she stood there ineffectively clenching her fists, open mouthed with nothing to say.

"You all right Miss Turner?" the girl asked. 

"Eh? Err, yes, something I ate," Hollie mumbled. She felt her face flush red, knowing it was spreading down her neck and over her breasts. 

"Here, let me help you. I'll take you to the first aid room," Roger butted in. 

When the hand gripped her arm it felt like an electric shock. She shivered and sweated as though suffering from a hangover. She desperately needed to pull away from him and escape them all.

"He's such a nice guy, always willing to help. So handsome too," the girl gushed. 

Hollie dropped her bag on the bitch's foot. 

Roger scooped the bag up and led her away, in a repeat of Friday's encounter.

"I'll see you later then?" the girl asked, as he walked Hollie away.

Hollie couldn't speak. She was breathing hard from the embarrassment of being manhandled before a crowd of students. A few doors down the corridor she was blindly led into an antiseptic smelling room. 

Roger pulled her to him, holding onto her shoulders. "Are you alright, you look as though you've seen a ghost, you're really pale," he said, overflowing with concern.

"Yes, I'm OK, just need to get my breath back," she said.

"There was no need to drop your bag on Judy's foot," he laughed.

"Did I? Where are we?" Hollie asked, only then looking around her.

"It's the first aid room. Don't worry the nurse is over at the football ground. She likes to watch the guys work out and won't be back for another hour or two," he smiled at her.

The big handsome man had a hold of her shoulders, looking concerned for her. She was melting away to nothing, together with all the good intentions of resisting him. He leaned into kiss her and she opened her mouth, without the excuse of preparing to tell him off. This time she just let him take her with his tongue and couldn't help responding.

Would this be her lot in life? Being a pathetic figure watching the football team work out, like the nurse. 

"Stop, please," Hollie stuttered, while he groped her. "We are in school, not here, please," she croaked from a dry throat. 

Roger realised how much power he had over her, even in school. It would have to be kept a strict secret, otherwise all would be lost. 

"You look wonderful. In your business suit you look impressive," he told her.

Hollie fussed with her hair, trying not to respond to his compliments. A bed came into focus and with it an image of them using it. What they could do on that in an hour couldn't be contemplated. Pupils were walking past, inches from them. She jumped when a fellow teacher shouted at someone, from right outside the door. 

Excitement from the danger of discover, had her shaking. 

"Did you bring that girl in here?" she asked, immediately regretting the question.

"No! Not her," he teased.

Hollie took the bait. "Who then, how many have you taken on that bed?" she viscously whispered. The question and tone of voice horrified her. She was being ridiculous, and the look he gave her reflected it right back at her. She had to regain some control!

"You had better leave before me. I don't want us to be seen together," she hissed at him. Not meaning to be angry, nevertheless it came out that way. With his hand on the door, she stopped him. "It's best we don't see each other again," Hollie firmly stated.

With eyes wide she watched him go, and heard the door loudly closed. She leant against the edge of the bed, feeling weak enough to collapse.

Hollie missed lunch and only just managed to get through the afternoon. She hung around not wanting to go home. He was sure to be there and a confrontation had to be avoided, knowing she wasn't up to it. A motel was considered and rejected as being too melodramatic. The support of a friend was badly needed, but here in the city there was no one.

Calling a handy man might work. When he called round it wouldn't be possible for Roger to weave his magic over her, while someone was there. It would give her a chance to rebuff his advances. Was there something she could break as an excuse to make a call out? 

Hollie drove to a local library and walked in feeling stupid. It might do to delay going home, and with a bit of luck, she might pick up a man. A fellow teacher had been rejected as that would raise awkward questions.

The dowdy little man on the desk would be of little help against Roger. After half an hour, nervously searching the shelves it was time to give in. She drove slowly, knowing it was ridiculous being driven out of her apartment by a young boy. Except he wasn't, he was a young handsome man who rattled her cage, until she became helpless with animal lust.

A halt sign stopped her opposite a bar. There were real men in there. As soon as she walked in the mistake was obvious. The place went quiet as she stepped up to the bar. Early evening drinkers stared at her. A couple of men playing pool looked at least halfway suitable. All she needed was someone to take her home, where she could make a coffee. Once Roger had called and left, she could send them on their way.

"Hi, can I buy you a drink?" someone asked. His voice sounded strong and manly and he looked the part. He didn't have any obvious tattoos, which was something she abhorred. 

"I just stepped in for a cool soft drink," she smiled. It all went down hill from there. The crass remarks and body language was hardly likely to win over a deaf mute. Yes she was an attractive woman and maybe even sexy. Yes she was a dressed like a stylish business woman, but she wasn't looking for a bit of rough play, especially not with him. 

The colder her look the more he tried to impress with awkward chat. What did she expect to find in a bar, Mister Right?

"Thanks for the chat and the drink, I've got to go," Hollie firmly stated. Hearing his friends put him down for losing out, gave her a little confidence. She slowly drove to the apartment, hoping Roger had given up waiting and gone home.

The apartment felt empty without him. She busied herself with the usual chores. The door bell rang. He heart raced from knowing it would be him. Walking toward the door her pace slowed, as she told herself not to be stupid.

Opening it she took a deep breath. Not standing aside to let him in was meant to say he wasn't welcome. 

"Do you want to discuss your lewd behaviour out here?" Roger asked. 

"No, come in," she quietly responded. It was all the excuse she needed to let him in. Knowing full well she had caved in to a craving for his attention didn't help her confidence. 

"I told you this afternoon, we just cannot do this any more," she lamely stated. "No! Go and sit down. I don't want you anywhere near me!" Hollie resolutely stated. It wasn't an overreaction, it was necessary to keep him at arms length.

"You won't want anyone to know what we did," he began. 

She had to counter this threat. It was a relief to have something to fight against. She could do this! 

"No one will believe you. You'll be treated like a naughty school boy with a teacher fantasy then expelled." She crossly told him.

"Not if I describe your apartment and that piercing between your legs. I'll hand over your dress with the panties," he warned her. His sullenness was turning to anger.

"I'm sorry Roger. I didn't mean it to happen. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I have. Please, just keep it as a nice memory of a mad fling. Don't spoil the wonderful time we had together, please. You know this must stop," she firmly told him. 

She took his hands in hers meaning to win him over and calm him down. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her down. He kissed her madly while she struggled to get free. His lips pressed against hers and she opened her mouth. 

It was starting all over again and she couldn't stop it! She let him remove her blouse and skirt. His hands caressed her body, while his lips devoured her.

The madness overtook her and she couldn't regain a shred of sanity, however much she tried. She was soon naked and riding him as much as he rode her. Like one body they writhed together, falling from the sofa in a tangle of limbs. She hadn't lost him from inside as they fell, with her legs were wrapped tightly around him.

Despite her grip his powerful thighs humped her until she had an animal like orgasm. Shouting out to mark the moment, she began to cry on feeling him spurt cum deeply into her compliant body. She needed him so badly it hurt. She was his girl. She was his yielding slut. Whatever he wanted her to be, she was his.

***

In class Hollie looked around nervously, attempting to detect the slightest sign they knew what had been going on. Their teacher was a students willing slut, and she felt it showed. Though dressed in a staid business suit, it lost the authoritative effect it used to have. At least for her it had.

The class gave out the inevitable groans to assignments, otherwise boredom was the only emotion displayed. The class was the same, behaving well as usual. Still she couldn't relax, after that disreputable evening, and every other moment with him, hanging over her.

Striding into history was at last an escape from guilty thoughts. Free time to polish an essay before it had to be submitted, pleased them. It confirmed she was a firm but fair teacher. They buckled down to work, or to day dream and doodle on blank pieces of paper. 

What had shaken her so much was that Roger was sitting in her classroom. He had been excused history while on a special assignment. For the two weeks since she joined the school, he had been elsewhere. 

On the register his name jumped out at her, how had she missed that! For a whole week they had been playing around, and all that time he was her damn student! It all seemed so much worse.

Roger stared at her. He had fucked her every day for a week and wanted to shout it out for everyone to know. Damn! He had fucked the teacher! She was sitting there looking real nervous. She was afraid he would tell someone, maybe even brag to his friends about her. 

He had promised not to say a word to anyone. He had promised not to say or do anything in school. Of course he didn't want to betray their secret, even though it was so difficult to behave natural around her. All he wanted to do was grab hold of her. He would control the urge, as the rewards would be so good.

He tried to concentrate on a British king, Charles the first, being decapitated. The only head he could think of was his. The image of his teacher sucking on it was awesome. He looked around the class, wondering what they would say if they found out. A big grin crossed his face and he winked at Hollie. She grimaced back.

From that moment he decided to confront her in class. It was breaking the rules, but he wanted to dictate them here as well. His cock was demanding it.

Holding up his hand he felt nervous. It seemed so different here in class. In his bedroom and her apartment they shared a relationship, sex! Here, it was an entirely different relationship. 

He suddenly realised what that meant. In class he felt her authority as the teacher. He had quickly learnt that out of the classroom he had a sexual power over her. Could he extend that power to here in school? This was the time to try out the idea.

"Can you help me with this Miss Turner? I've missed a couple of classes," he added. No one looked up as they were either absorbed in the assignment or far away with their own thoughts. 

In trepidation Hollie walked to the back of the class. The last thing she wanted was for him to start making sly comments about their relationship. Determined to retain the teacher student relationship, she was prepared to go heavy on him. 

Hollie bent over his work to read the paragraph he pointed to. 

At the back of the class no one could see what he was up to, so he tried to lift the back of her skirt with a ruler. He awkwardly swiped her bottom with it. 

She suppressed a yelp. "Sorry, Sir," she whispered. 

Hollie felt a wave of arousal engulf her. She was being spanked in class! By one of her students! It was only one quiet strike upon her panty clad ass, but it was enough. The memory of being over his knee, being spanked like a naughty girl, robbed her of all authority. 

Roger wondered why his teacher had apologised, as this was way out of line. Surprised at the reaction, he decided to press his luck.

With her standing close, leaning over the course work, his hand drifted up between her thighs, hardly touching. When nothing was said, he gripped her inner thigh. 

Hollie trembled from feeling her bottom thwacked. It was so wrong and so very dangerous in class. Instead of walking away she looked around to see if anyone had seen it, or heard her reaction. She thought it was her imagination when feeling a tickling sensation on her thighs. It was no mistake he had his hand up her skirt!

Being used to his fondling of her body, she had hardly noticed the furtive stroke of a thigh. Before he could do anything she straightened up, only to trap his hand between her thighs. She looked down at him with a look of astonishment. This was against their rules! She tried to bring herself together, trying to think of something to say. The last thing she needed was for the other students to find out.

He looked up, expecting her to complain. Not a word was said. Instead she just stood there, red with embarrassment.

"This is wrong," she quietly said. She pointed at the paragraph, while looking at him with a pleading expression. She couldn't escape while clamping his hand between her thighs. She tried to pull away then bowed her legs, opening up to let his hand go. Instead, he pushed his hand up to her crotch. She sucked in a deep breath, at the same time squeezing her legs tightly together. 

Roger looked around the class, pleased that no one was aware of what he was doing to their teacher. His hand was now firmly clamped up against the damp crotch of her panties. The palm of his hand held her bottom, with his fingers pressing against her sex. The feeling of having a teacher in the palm of his hand was exhilarating!

When he wiggled his fingers she rose on tiptoe with her voice rising in pitch as an accompaniment. She was trying hard to concentrate on the essay. Obviously no one was listening to what was being said. 

He scanned the class making sure they weren't being watched. They weren't bothered in the slightest, not noticing her comments about his work wandering off the subject.

He tried it again. She rose on tiptoe, breathing heavily. In the grip of her thighs he had little control of the hand. A finger wriggled past her panties and slipped between her lips. She put a hand on his shoulder leaning heavily upon him.

Hollie was petrified. If she opened her legs to let him go, she would instead give him more room to manoeuvre. Yet she had to do something. He was working her up in class! The only thing she could do was to try and steady her breathing. 

As soon as she relaxed he again wiggled his fingers, with one inside her. His teacher bent over a little more, pushing back on his hand. It took him by surprise. She had pushed herself onto his finger so that it was deep inside. 

He wondered what to do next. It was dangerous to push her too far. He knew how deeply he could take her over, and the last thing he wanted was for her to start yelling while in the throes of an orgasm. 

It wasn't just that simple touch between the legs that had her so fired up. It was from being stimulated all afternoon. Roger had been there, in her class. The danger of his presence, knowing he could ruin her career and have her fired, was alarming. The danger was so damnably arousing. Just being so close to this boy, who had fucked her in an illicit affair, had brought her to a pitiful state of surrender. 

The bell rang out loud for everyone to make a dash for the exit. No one made the effort to take a backward glance at the two stuck in an awkward coupling. Their teacher was helplessly stuck upon a students fingers, being manipulated like a glove puppet. He could do anything to her, for she was past caring.

"Please!" she said, on a drawn out breath. 

Not caring whether she wanted him to stop or continue, he became bolder in the empty classroom. With gentle movements of two fingers he sawed back and forth across her slippery lips. He knew where her hard little button was, and pressed it hard. Over her 'on button' and into her, he massaged her private little place. It was his, and had been for long enough to know it well. 

Roger had learnt where to rub and how firmly she needed it. From the little whimpers of pleasure guiding him he settled on a steady rhythm. With his thumb pressed against her asshole, he circled it until the panties were pushed aside. He had never before entered her bum-hole. Here in class it was a devilish thrill. 

He continued to work her up, knowing only too well how carried away she was. He knew her body so well, so intimately, he could play her like a violin. If they weren't in class she would be wailing out of tune.

His free hand travelled up her belly to a breast. Gripping it he felt a hard nipple and squeezed hard. A new skill quickly learnt meant he could unfasten a button with one hand. He popped two buttons of the blouse and pushed his hand below the bra cup. Squeezing the engorged nipple had her moaning. She was pushing back on his fingers. One was delving in while the other rubbed her bud.

Hollie knew if anyone walked in now they would see her dishevelled state, and discover exactly what was happening. The danger was exciting, almost as much as the pleasurable sensations running throughout her body. It was the danger of exposure that thrilled her.

All of a sudden it occurred to him, this was no schoolgirl he was playing with it was his teacher. He pushed her harder for they were running out of time. He felt the familiar tremors of her body; she was in the throws of an orgasm.

Roger had a responsible woman bent over his desk, crooning softly in rhythm with the movements of his fingers. She seemed happy enough, whereas she should have been outraged. He had little time to think about the power he had over her. The threat he held had been mentioned, but it was more than that. 

What ever it was making her give in so easily, he now held that power in school too. It was a good thing she didn't explode noisily as usual, for there were student outside in the corridor.

"Please, Roger, you can stop now. Please, let me go," she whimpered. 

Lying across his desk with a hand between her legs, was maintaining the dependent state she was in. It was dreadful to be trapped like this. He had taken her over so easily it was hugely humiliating. Being so vulnerable to a student was dangerous, though she could see no way out of the predicament.

"Please, Roger," she breathed heavily. Aware of the noise of students gathering outside, her release became imperative.

"What do you say, slut," he asked.

Hollie winced at those damning words. That is exactly how she felt. She was his slut.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 04



"Thank you for making me cum. Please let go of my pussy, Roger," she begged. 

Knowing him so well the words had to be said, otherwise he would leave it to the last minute, before the next class entered. He knew such words shamed her and enjoyed the sound of his teacher talking dirty to him. It was the price she had to pay. Pleading for a student to remove his fingers from her vagina was the most humbling situation imaginable. That it was in her classroom, where she should rule, was perverse and arousing. 

So used to being used it was difficult not to simply wait until finished with. This young man wasn't her master, and she didn't give permission for her pussy to be played with. It had been a strict rule not to play in school. That rule had been broken and it was a terrible idea that it might happen again.

His teacher straightened up, and pulled her clothes together as though nothing had happened. Except that she looked flushed and flustered. She made her way unsteadily back to her desk. 

Roger made his way to the door, not caring he was going to be late for the next class. "Till this evening," he said.

Hollie weakly nodded unable to speak. She was still on a high, with an underlying feeling of dread. As the students tumbled in she kept her head down, feeling they would see in her face the shame she felt. Rising carefully from her chair she mumbled something about the restroom.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 05



All week Roger visited Hollie, keeping her happy and enjoying her body. She spent the time hopelessly trying to fend him off, but 'No!' meant nothing to him. What ever she tried, he ended up ravishing her. By the end of the week she gave up, and decided to wait until he became bored with her.

Surely he would find a young girl his own age to play with. He was treating her like a new toy; learning to play with her body. The thought of losing him to a younger girl left her feeling gloomy. The idea should have been a relief, but she had grown used to the intense attention and would miss it.

Roger spent some time on the internet trying to discover what was happening to his teacher. He couldn't talk to anyone about it of course. A boring scientific paper concerning a sex study triggered an idea. It was time to carry out his experiments.

Friday evening came around fast after a whirl of sexual pleasure all week. Rather than dreading the weekend Hollie was excited, wondering what he would do to her next.

"I want to learn about your body," Roger said. 

"Don't you think you have learnt enough?" she replied. "We are not in school now, you can relax, we have the whole weekend ahead of us," she said, looking concerned over what he might have meant. It was a dangerous situation and was getting steadily worse.

"What have you in mind?" she asked, already dreading what new idea he might have. Her student was making her into his pet project, which left her feeling vulnerable.

Lying naked on the bed, she was supposed to relax, while he ran his hands all over her. He was certainly learning about her body! He was stroking, pinching, and massaging. Relaxing to the sensations she wondered how much of this could be withstood, without fainting away from pure pleasure. 

"You must wear this and concentrate on the sensations," he said, giving her a blindfold. 

Wanting him to continue she agreed to the request without protest. She was impressed with the effect. 

"It's better than a deep hot bath," she murmured. She giggled out loud when he asked what she meant. Forgetting herself she moved a hand between her legs. 

"No!" he scolded. "That's for me to do," he said, with a sly smile she couldn't see. Pulling her hand away, it was replaced with his fingers. Stretched out upon the bed, she dare not move, in case the wonderful mood was broken. She didn't want it to ever stop. 

It was no wonder he was so difficult to refuse. About to tell him he was a good student, she bit off the remark, turning it into a soft grunt of satisfaction.

The gentle tease of her body was replaced with licking and sucking sensations, pushing her deeper into a reverie she had so pleasantly drifted into. She gently quivered in response to these new found sensations. Wanting to grasp him to her she found the impulse restrained. 

Her hands were tied! She frantically pulled at them. He quickly tightened the loose bonds. Panic seized her on finding both ankles were tied. 

"What are you doing? Let me go!" she complained. "Please! I don't like this, I'm frightened," she quickly added, hoping to appeal to his better nature. 

He thrust his fingers deeply between her wet lips. He sucked her tongue from her mouth, cutting off the protests. She tasted her sex on his lips. It didn't take long to fall back into the supine state. Fear, danger and excitement were working her up again. When he replaced the exploring fingers with his cock she became driven by lust.

With wrists and ankles bound tight she was helpless to share the passionate movements. She just had to lay back and take it. An orgasm hit hard. Hollie managed to push her hips up at him, striving to hold onto his cock. He had learnt to hold still while she cum.

"Yes!" she croaked, from a parched mouth. "It was wonderful, as usual," she giggled. "No. Once is enough, no more, please, untie me, please!" she demanded.

"Just one more," he teased. "No! Don't say a word, or I'll gag you," he warned her. 

She was worried about other ideas he might have planned. Being physically helpless was a new sensation, compared to being made mentally and morally weak by him. It was easier a second time. She relaxed under his expert manipulation of her body. It was less of an orgasm, not taking her over so completely, though good enough to feel wonderful.

"That is so good, so very good," she murmured. 

He removed the blindfold leaving her blinking rapidly. 

"No! You don't need that! Please, leave me be, I can't take any more," Hollie cried out.

He picked up the gag for her to take the hint and fall silent. Squirming with shame she tightly shut her eyes, the only thing she could close. She felt the vibrator tingle a nipple. It worked slowly down over her tummy, closer and closer to her sex. 

Damn! He was determined to break her. She would be a total wreck after this. It buzzed loudly in her ears, and caused her feet to tremble as it gently touched her bud. 

"Please, stop it, I can't take any more!" she whined.

"Would you prefer to do something else for me?" he asked.

"Yes, yes please," she wailed. 

"I want you to shave down here," he said, while pushing the vibrator over her inner lips.

"No! Alright, yes I'll do it," she gasped. It would mean being untied, so of course she would agree.

She decided to go along with it in the hope of getting free. Not just free of the tights wrapped around her wrists and ankles. It was the powerful grip on her emotions he wielded that needed to be broken. So many images flashed through her mind, it was hard to think straight. What would her colleagues say if they could see her like this? 

"Just untie me and I'll shave, down there," she pleaded. 

He untied her feet, which she left spread out across the bed feeling too weak to haul her legs together. He lifted her up, plonking her down onto the floor. Resting on hands and knees she tried to get her head straight. He had a way of trapping her into doing such naughty things. 

"What now," she complained. Let him have his fun then perhaps the novelty will wear off. It occurred to her that she had tried this before, and it had only got her deeper into trouble. 

He fastened a collar around her neck. It was embarrassing, though it could have been worse. When he pulled on the leash she crawled along beside him. Softened up by two orgasms she had little fight left. 

When they reached the bathroom she was panting. She was still on a high from one climax after another. The humiliation from crawling naked, at a student's feet, was arousing her yet again. Knowing him so well meant there was little chance of being let off the promise. He positioned her on the floor and squirted foam over her tender flesh. 

"I'll do it," she reluctantly told him. 

He was watching intently as she scraped the small lady razor over already sensitive skin. With him watching so closely it was embarrassing, and highly erotic. 

"More!" he insisted. 

"I can't, not all of it! I'm your teacher for heavens sake. Leave me some dignity!" she complained. It was too late to plead for her dignity. She had behaved worse than any slut. It couldn't be imagined anyone would submit to the demeaning acts he already had her commit. 

"Please, not all of it," she pleaded.

Pulling at the lips of her pussy she completed the job. He leaned forward and blew on her red hot sex. It was as though a fireman was trying to blow out a forest fire. Except she no longer had a forest. His fingers drifted over her bald pussy, and it was impossible to hold back a moan of pleasure.

"Smooth as silk!" he exclaimed with glee.

She watched his lips close in upon her glistening sex. He sucked everything into his mouth. 

"Oh! God! Yes!" she panted. He licked and sucked until she had an orgasm racking her whole body. She convulsed on the floor, banging her heels on the tiles.

As soon as he left the apartment she hid the collar and leash. It had belonged to the family pet dog. She used it to lead the pet around a local park, and now it had been used to lead her around the bedroom. It seemed so humiliating to be used in that way. Hollie was his teacher, yet he was treating her like a pet bitch, bringing her into heat whenever he liked.

Searching through the wardrobe a dressing gown belt was removed, together with anything else that might be used to bind her. Eventually satisfied there was nothing that could be used to tie her up, she felt more relaxed. She was determined not to fall into that trap again!

From now on she would concentrate on resting the initiative from him. She knew it was in her nature to be submissive in the bedroom, but things were getting out of hand. For once she would have to be assertive otherwise it would just go on and on.

Saturday afternoon Roger called, looking wary, as though expecting to be admonished, for the exceptionally bad behaviour of last night. When she didn't complain he guessed he had been right about her. She was a submissive! It all made sense now. The boring article had been worth reading after all. 

His mind whirled with ideas. He had led his teacher around on a leash, and made her shave her pussy! He now knew anything was possible after that. He came prepared for the next game, planning on bringing her further under his control.

Hollie was tingling with excitement. This young guy had taken her further than she would ever have thought possible. Her hand shook as she handed him a coffee. The memory of those hands gently stroking her body was so hot! His lips opened to sip at the hot coffee. She remembered him sucking on her hot lips in the bathroom.

"So what have you got planned for today," she innocently asked. The casual question had so much more meaning to it now. She was anxious yet aroused, wondering what he would submit her to next. The back pack he carried didn't look as though it contained school books.

"Get undressed," he told her.

Hollie hesitated. She needed to see what was in that bag. He was so good at working her up into a state of submission it was worrying what game he had in mind. Would it be more of last night, or something horrendous? 

He caught on to the look of concern directed toward the backpack. "I've got some clothes for you," he smiled. 

"Do as you are told or I'll have to spank you, like the naughty little girl you are," he mocked her. 

So used to being naked before him she obeyed the command. It was still highly embarrassing. Removing her panties was even more uncomfortable after shaving last night. 

"Come here," he told her. He ran his finger tips over her crotch. "Good, keep it nice and smooth for me," he told her.

"What?" she said. A feeling of indignation was expressed in that one word. Her mouth opened and closed, wondering what to say to such a rude command. It was too demeaning to be told to keep her private place shaved for a young student. Inevitably she nodded her head in compliance with a shameful knowledge the order would be obeyed.

He cupped her sex in one hand and gripped her tight. She nodded, and opened her mouth to moan mournfully. She was mourning the loss of the last shred of her dignity. 

"Yes! Oh yes!" she whimpered. 

"Good slut," he loudly said, while playing with her wet lips. "You should call me Sir. You just need to say, 'Yes, sir,' when I tell you to do something," he firmly ordered.

"Yes, Sir," Hollie moaned. "Anything, sir," she whimpered, as though in pain.

"No time for this now, slut. Get dressed," he told her.

"Yes, sir," she responded, with a look of disappointment on her face. Seeing the slutty clothes on the sofa meant it was happening all over again. Would the same pizza guy turn up? What would she be expected to do this time?

The thought was appalling! He had her panting for a cock from just a touch to her sex. Over the last few days he had slowly brought her down, kissing away her morals. Last night he had made her into his willing slut. All day her imagination had run riot with nasty thoughts firing her up. It was no wonder a single touch had her at his mercy. 

She pulled on the tight halter top, rolling it down over her breasts. The stretchy white spandex emphasised a pair of hard nipples. It wasn't transparent, but clung to her body like a second skin. 

The shorts were made of the same figure hugging material. Hollie tried to pick the crotch out of her sex, but it insisted on pulling between her lips. She felt it pulling the cheeks of her bottom apart. The tiny shorts were slung low over her belly, and only just covered the tops of her thighs. 

She self- consciously stood before him with arms to her sides, wanting to cover her body. It was worse than being naked. It was impossible to wear underwear under the thin material, and he hadn't given her any. A twinge of anguish crooked her eyebrow, from realising this young guy was dictating her clothing, and she was submitting to it.

She again looked and felt like his naughty little slut. She smiled from the thought of it, and the sight of his hard cock straining at his jeans. She swung her hips, glancing at him with as much of a sultry look as could be managed. He wanted to play with her, and that was so wonderfully welcome.

"On your hands and knees, slut," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," she obediently replied. More than anything, she hoped he didn't cum in her mouth. She needed to feel his cock hard up inside her vagina, where it belonged.

He held her head tight and scooped away the hair from around her neck. She wondered what he was doing. She felt a collar clasp her neck. Did this mean he was going to make her crawl to the bedroom? She hoped so.

The thought of being this young guy's sex-pet was no longer objectionable, it was thrilling. He made her feel so vulnerable and susceptible from the humiliating things he did, she was willing to try anything. When he was in control it allowed all her decent normal reservations and responsibilities to melt away.

"Come on pet. We are going out," he declared. 

"Oh! No! Not like this. Please take the collar off. At least let me wear a dress. Please, Sir," she complained. At last she remembered to say the word he wanted - 'Sir'. To make up for the omission she repeated it. "Yes, sir, please, sir," she whined.

It was humbling to call a student 'sir', and she loved it. She still wasn't so far gone as to let him extend his games outside the apartment. Was she?

He pulled her over his knee and spanked her. She felt every humiliating stinging slap through the thin material. 

"What do you say?" he demanded.

"Sorry sir. Thank you for spanking me sir," Hollie bleated, only just holding back tears. Once again she felt defeated and subservient to him. She was reduced to telling him, 'yes sir', to whatever he wanted. A nasty thrill coursed through her veins. A hot wave of arousal pushed her deeply into submission.

***

In his van they couldn't be seen. She just hoped he was just frightening her and wouldn't make her get out. Or if they did, she hoped it was somewhere no one would see them.

"Where are you taking me, sir?" Hollie asked. He held her wrist tight, not giving her the chance to run off back to the van. It was a dark cloudy night without street lights. It didn't make it any easier being outside, wearing such a ludicrous outfit. She almost told him she might as well be naked, though, thought it better not to tempt him.

He knocked on the door of a store. The light flickered on shining upon the flesh hugging top. Her nipples were thrust out from the cold night air. Partly grateful to get out of sight, she was even more nervous over whom they were here to meet.

She shivered from cold and nervous energy. Damn! There were illustrations of tattoos all over the place! Damn him! She couldn't go through with this, she hated tattoos.

"Please, sir, I can't do this!" she whispered. "Please don't mark me, please, sir," she begged.

"Which would you prefer, a tattoo or a piercing?" he asked. 

"Where?" she asked; the only word she was able to utter. Her breathing became rapid, with eyelids fluttering, and eyes watering. 

"Your ears," he suggested.

"Alright, sir," she conceded. Since leaving the house, and especially since getting out of his van, she felt so very vulnerable. She was completely dependent on him, feeling she needed to keep him happy. How would she get home dressed like this? The shameful submissiveness was stronger than ever.

Sitting back in the chair she let it happen. They could always be removed, and in any case, small studs would be acceptable in school.

"Owwwch!" she squealed. The second one wasn't so bad. She tightly gripped the arms of the chair. A student was dressing her up, leading her around on a leash, piercing her ears, and continuously working her up into a state of arousal. This young guy she called, 'sir', was controlling her too effectively!

He was so demanding she didn't have hope of resisting him.

"Lift your bum," he told her.

While in a little world of her own thoughts, switched off from the torment, she did as she was told. Too late to comprehend his intentions, the little shorts were rolled down. 

"What are you doing, sir?" she whispered. 

He smiled and stroked her hair, reassuring her as though she were a little frightened creature. Her eyes were large, showing the whites in fear. 

"I'm going to replace that little stud, that's all," he soothingly spoke. 

That's all? Damn him! He was showing off her shaved pussy to a stranger. The big rough man was older than him. He had long greasy hair, and was dressed like a wild biker. She didn't like the look of him. He was the kind of person she would cross the street to avoid.

Between the two of them she felt like a frightened stunned rabbit. They hardly spoke, so this had all been arranged and discussed, without consulting her. She felt all the more like his pet, being played and toyed with.

They looked closely at the stud in her nub. It had been pierced on a wild night out, with student friends. It would have hurt like hell, but she had been anesthetised with alcohol at the time.

The guy worked it loose and replaced it with a little ring. The embarrassment was greater than the pain. At least that was over. While she had her eyes closed Roger pounced again. The top was rolled up to her neck, baring her breasts.

"Sir, please, not there, not my nipples! Please, sir," she whined. Even to her the tone of voice sounded pathetic. 

Roger and the rough guy ignored the pitiable protests.

The machine quietly snapped leaving the nipple pierced. She watched it swell. It seemed enormous. Again she watched the machine pierce a nipple. Two small rings were threaded through them. They throbbed with pain. Hollie was not into pain. She didn't like it and would do anything to avoid being hurt.

The fact of being subject to it by a student stoked her up. This young boy who sat in her class was piercing her body, inflicting pain upon her. The humiliation was heating her up. They both could see her lips glistening with sex juices. It was terribly embarrassing to feel it.

She wanted to blubber like a little girl, only just holding off from such an unpleasant exhibition. 

"You can get dressed now, slut," the awful man told her.

He wasn't bothered at all by her nakedness. She was just another stupid little slut, giving in to her boyfriend; so as to keep him happy. The job had been completed so she had been dismissed, like the worthless slut she had become.

The walk back to the van was an age of humiliation. The rings in her nipples, and even the one between her legs, clearly showed through the tight spandex. They hurt too! A wet patch showed between her legs, making her feel like a terrible slut.

At last home Hollie felt relatively safe. The piercings felt less painful, receding to a dull throbbing. 

"Best fix something to eat now," he told her. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 05



"Yes sir. Err, can I get changed, sir?" she asked. The humble sound of voice betrayed how humble she felt, as much as the words used.

"No! Get undressed. I want to see your lovely body," he demanded. 

"Yes sir," she acknowledged. 

With care Hollie rolled the spandex from her body, trying hard not to touch the piercings. A yelp or two couldn't be avoided.

"Nice! You look adorable as usual," he smiled.

They ate in silence. Still stunned from what happened, she tried to come to terms with why she had given in to such a drastic thing. It was difficult to accept the complete submission. Her whole self-image had to be downgraded to accept such profound obedience to a young student.

"Come here and I'll sooth the soreness," he commanded.

Squatting on the floor at his feet, she felt every touch as he gently massaged her breasts with a cool ointment. At least the throbbing held back the usual arousal. 

He had her lying back on the carpet with both legs spread wide. This time the cool ointment was eased over a less damaged place. Her nub had been already pierced, so it just ached from a ring replacing the small stud. The little ring was more noticeable but then who else but him would see it.

Inevitably she became aroused from his now expert touch. He knew her body so well! 

"Just lie back and enjoy it," he told her. "I'll kiss it better," he added.

He stroked her thighs just the way she enjoyed it. He licked and kissed her pussy, just enough to keep her back from an orgasm. She began to tremble with passion. It took a long time, a gorgeously enjoyed timeless age, until the passion became a torrent of orgasmic sensations. 

This time he stayed over at the apartment, despite their agreement. Roger looked after her as though she were a little injured bird. Every time she opened her eyes he was there, in her bed, sleeping soundly. Over the last few days she had often woken up missing him. She wanted him in her bed for always. She needed him.

Hollie brushed back hair from his eye, and kissed his forehead. He stirred and moaned, not waking. She laid her head on the pillow, just touching his. She closed her eyes, and fell into a deep contented sleep.

***

Hollie stopped him leaving the class, as the others shuffled out.

"Roger. I want to talk to you about the work you handed in," she said. As soon as the last of them left the room, she pulled at the top to reveal a collar. "This is terrible!" she crossly said. "You have to give me the key!" she demanded.

Sunday they had continued the game, with her as his dutiful slut. Becoming used to wearing the collar it had been forgotten about. Monday morning she found it locked to her neck, with a small padlock and no key.

"Oh!" he laughed. "I wondered why you were wearing a high necked blouse. I forgot to give you the key," he quickly added, seeing how annoyed she was. "I'll see you tonight," he said, over his shoulder as he left.

Hollie sat there wearing the symbol of his ownership, feeling highly embarrassed. One of her students thought he owned her, and was treating her like a pet project. Her face flushed red as another class sauntered in. It was going to be difficult to concentrate on history, while wearing this ever present reminder of her lowly position.

At least the air-conditioning had been fixed, so the high collared blouse wasn't too uncomfortable. Focusing on Charles the First helped, but ever so often, she had to stop a hand reaching up to finger the collar. 

***

As soon as he arrived Hollie walked into the kitchen to escape him. Waiting for the coffee to percolate, she stood in the doorway. 

"Roger, I'm sorry, but you can't do that again. It was so embarrassing wearing a collar in class," she admonished him. 

Roger smiled back at her. She had given up stating it was all over. The complaints now revolved around trying to curtail this experimentation upon her. It had been worrying finding out he had more ideas, from the internet, to try out on her. Wearing a collar would become the least of her worries. 

"No one knew did they? Don't worry so much. OK! If you were in an accident and it was found it could be explained away as a joke. You were on a hen night, and friends did it to you," he told her.

"I guess so," she murmured. "Did you bring the key?" she said, looking expectant.

"I did, but you don't get it until later. So long as you behave yourself," he smiled.

She looked down at the floor between them, feeling embarrassed from what that might mean. He intended to make her earn her freedom, and knew freedom would only mean from the collar, nothing more. He had her trapped, pandering to his whims, like a silly little slut.

They ate and chatted about nothing in particular, just getting to know each other. It was surprising how little she knew about him. They had the most intimate knowledge of each others bodies, without knowing about their lives outside of the relationship.

"I want you to pleasure me this evening," he said. "You are my sexy slut and will do as you are told," he stated. 

Being close to him heated her up. The whole day she had been worried and excited, knowing he would arrive here to claim her obedience. The anticipation over what he might do next, added to the tension inside her.

"Get undressed," he ordered. He watched as she slipped out of her clothes without protest. He smiled at her, making her look away demurely. She was so cute looking like that a broad grin spread across his face. 

"You really are beautiful," he honestly stated. He was rewarded with a shy smile in return. It was wonderful to have his teacher obeying him. Having her strip naked, in her apartment, was the sexiest thrill imaginable. 

"Crawl to me lovely pet," he commanded. After clipping a leash to the collar, she obediently crawled to the bedroom. He lay on the bed, beckoning her with a warm smile. He cuddled her while stroking her hair, whispering how attractive she was, how sexy she was, and that he wanted to look after her.

She sighed, while clinging on to every word. Gone long ago were the reminiscences of college flings and high school crushes. Every thought of love, romance, and sexual adventure, became rolled up into this moment. He was her master and was looking after her. She vibrated with sexual need. It was a need for him, not just a self-satisfying lust. 

He pushed her up, away from the warm embrace. "It's my turn, remember? You are to give your master satisfaction. Pleasure your master," he demanded.

Hollie couldn't keep her hands off him. She only just managed to avoid grabbing his penis. Lost were the thoughts of being tricked into something, or made to do something bad. This was what she needed to do. She had become his slave girl, devoted to her master's pleasure.

Smoothing her hands over his body, she explored him, wanting to discover every crevice, every sensitive place. She tenderly kissed his face. Everywhere except his throbbing cock. 

He turned over with help from her guiding hands. While massaging his back, her eyes were on his firm buttocks. She kissed the base of his spine and continued over his cheeks. She licked between them, tasting the salty sweat, relishing her subservience. She nuzzled her nose in the cleft, telling him she was his lowly slave girl.

More insistently this time, she turned him over. His cock was throbbing and her hands shook.

"May your slave girl have master's cock, please, master," she said, with an unsteady voice. She didn't hear his reply. As though it were a magnet, her lips were guided down to his erect member, pulling her mouth toward it. 

She was familiar with the idea of a blow job, though had little experience. Only twice before had she tried it. Once was with him, when totally carried away in his bedroom. 

With just a slight hesitation she lowered her head toward his. With one hand cupping the sack and the other gripping the shaft, she hesitantly licked and kissed it. It was now or never, so plucking up courage, she sucked at the swollen gland, swallowing as much of it as possible without choking. 

Very soon he began to spurt cum into her mouth. Almost retching from the acrid taste in her mouth and nostrils, she let go an instant after he did. Not as intense as usual but climax was gratefully received. She fancied his cum was spilling from her nose it seemed so much. It was just the smell of it swamping her senses.

At the end she had been more than passively taking him in. With enthusiasm she had sucked every last drop from his sack. She drank it all down with great gulps, as though the spoonful was a pint. 

"Thank you master for letting me cum. Thank you for letting me swallow your lovely sperm," she whispered. Her whole being was subsumed into the role as his loving slave girl. 

"Come here, slave girl," he said. Opening his arms up, she snuggled onto his chest. 

Wrapped tightly in his arms feeling wonderfully cared for, she submitted to the feeling of being nothing more than his slave girl.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 06



Early next morning Hollie slipped out of bed leaving Roger undisturbed. She looked at the young man, her student, sleeping peacefully. She smiled broadly with contentment. The wicked things he was doing to her were both disturbing and exciting. It was impossible to escape the conclusion this was the most wonderful relationship she had ever experienced.

It was wrong to be sharing her bed with a student, but the excitement of an illicit affair was too strong to resist. Roger was too strong to resist. He had forced her to submit, yet how could she complain after receiving such intimate attention. He was demanding and caring, all at the same time.

The two conflicting influences had her panting for more. 

In a dressing gown Hollie made breakfast for two. Even this simple chore was new and exciting. Cooking for her young handsome man was a delight. 

"Here you are, breakfast in bed," she said. 

Watching him ravish the food, reminded her of how he ravished her, always with great enthusiasm. After last night she had to feed him up, ready for tonight. The thought made her giggle.

"You're happy this morning," he laughed, between mouthfuls. He swilled the egg and bacon down with a swig of coffee.

"Get my bag, I have something for you. Don't peek!" he warned.

"We don't have time for games. We need to get to school," Hollie complained. 

He pulled her over the bed and playfully slapped her bottom. 

"Alright, I give in, let me go!" she squealed in delight. 

Her round rump looked so tantalising he leant forward and kissed it. He licked her fresh smelling bottom, tickling it with light fingertip touches.

"Nooo! Please sir, let me go," Hollie yelped.

"You look good and taste good enough to eat. What do you say?" he asked, with a devilish look plastered across his face. 

He was trying to look stern, though it was too difficult. He wanted to laugh from feeling so happy. He was in his teacher's bed slapping her bare ass. She had given up complaining about this mistreatment instead she complied with his demands. It was a perfect arrangement, for him, though she was obviously enjoying it too.

"Yes, sir, what ever you say sir," she laughed. Giving in hadn't been an option, as she had learnt that he always got what he wanted.

Quickly returning to him, she keenly watched with a shiver of anxiety and excitement, as he delved into the bag. What gift of torment he had for her was eagerly awaited.

"Here put these on while I shower. Nothing else until I'm ready for you," he told her.

"Yes, sir," she demurely answered.

It was becoming a habit, allowing him to dress and undress her. He was controlling more and more of her life. At least this wasn't something terrible rather, it was a nice surprise. Knowing it was another small step toward being totally his wasn't so bad. It was an exciting adventure!

Once dressed as ordered, she fixed her make-up. The small pierced earrings were a constant reminder of that dreadful evening. At least the ones in her nipples and bud were small enough to hide. Hearing him drying off she stood up, almost at attention, to wait for him. 

She felt a little foolish doing this for one of her students, but it had become a habit. For a moment she wondered what was happening to her. She was submitting to him more and more, yet surely it should have been the other way around.

He came in rubbing his hair with a towel. The fresh male smell was worth waiting for, as it gave her a slight thrill. He looked at her. His smile turned to a broad grin, quickening her pulse. He was naked and obviously liking what he saw. 

"Wow! You look gorgeous. So sexy, I really could eat you all up," he grinned.

"No! Please sir, not now, we'll be late," she groaned. It was difficult to resist but someone had to think of something else other than sex.

"We had better hurry up then. Pull your panties down to your knees," he commanded.

"Oh! No! Please sir," Hollie softly protested. 

"I'm going to inspect your pussy, to make sure it's smooth," he informed her.

"Oh!" she managed to whisper.

Reluctantly Hollie pulled her panties down, with a seductive roll of her hips. She stood before him wearing a black silk push up bra, with matching panties. They were see-through, though that didn't matter now because they were tightly slung around her knees. She stood with legs slightly apart to keep them there.

The suspender belt was part of the matching set. When he pulled the underwear from his bag, she thought they would be a cheap nylon set, scratchy and uncomfortable. The fine black silk was a delight to wear. That he had correctly guessed her size was a surprise. He was full of surprises, not always as pleasant as this.

The sheer stockings had a black sheen. The high heels complimented her legs. Not used to them she wobbled a little, and was reminded to stand upright. She couldn't help admiring the outfit in the mirror. Not something to choose for school, though who would know except him.

Hollie felt his hot breath upon her bare pussy. He looked up at her and smiled. She had to look away when seeing his hand about to touch her. It was humiliating being examined down there by a student before school, though so terribly arousing. 

Without a thought she had shaved her lips bare, for him, for her lover and master. 

"Nice! Very nice! Smooth and fresh, ready to eat," Roger teased. He took a deep breath detecting the aroma of excitement. He placed a finger against her bud and gently pressed.

"Am I ringing any bells?" he asked.

"Yes sir. No! Please, sir, not now. Tonight, anything you want tonight," she breathlessly moaned.

"I'll hold you to that," he laughed.

She knew he would. It took all her willpower to resist grabbing a hold of him there and then. Calling him 'sir' was just another habit acquired at his insistence. Hollie knew it underlined their relationship, but couldn't resist his demands. 

***

In class one or two students noticed the high heels, though nothing was said. Hollie couldn't get out of her mind what she was wearing. The underwear was sexy, though it was the fact that a student had bought the set, and made her wear it, which had her thoughts in turmoil. 

Every time she crossed her legs, a buzzing sound of the stockings reminded her she had been dressed for his pleasure. Submitting to that intimate inspection came to mind too often. If she wasn't careful she would become too aroused to think straight. That led on to wondering about his devious plans for tonight, and her promise to submit.

At break-time she had to rush to the restroom to splash her face with cold water and fix her makeup. At lunch time she hurried there to lock herself in a cubicle. Biting her lip she tried not to touch herself. It was no good resisting the urge. She pulled the crotch of the panties to one side and grabbed a hold of her pussy. 

She held it tight, imagining it was her lover's hand. He would know what to do to her, what she needed. A finger rubbed against her bud pulling a whispered groan from between her lips. When a couple of colleagues walked in she quickly pulled her panties up, feeling guilty. 

If they knew she was lusting after a student they would pity her. If they found out she was submitting to him, letting him master her, they would revile her. She dare not walk out now, for they would see she was so near an orgasm. Hollie felt weak and pathetic. There was no way out, and no way to escape Roger, her dominant lover. She was trapped! He had her right where he wanted and they both knew it.

Walking back to class she saw that horrendous young girl flirting with her man. A sudden mean feeling of jealousy overwhelmed her better judgement. Hollie desperately needed to use all her authority, as a teacher, to put the girl in her place. 

Striding up to the pair of them, she abruptly halted, only just refraining from making a fool of herself. What could she say or do? They were both eighteen year olds, entitled to talk to each other at lunch time. She was supposed to be a responsible teacher, not a silly slut besotted with a student.

She felt helpless and foolish. They ignored her, seeming wrapped up in their own world where teachers didn't exist. Embarrassed from ineptness, unable to think straight, she became desperate. 

"Roger, may I have a word?" Hollie politely asked. Hollie managed a wane smile for the girl, as Roger turned to her. His pleasant open smile melted the anger away in an instant. She blushed like a silly young thing.

"Your project needs some attention," she began to explain. The innocent phrase took on a whole new meaning, as she considered it meant her. She was his pet project, his special sex project. It was true, she needed his attention.

"I need to see to my project, see you later," Roger told the girl. He walked off with Hollie, to her classroom. When they were out of earshot he spoke to his teacher. "Is my project feeling as sexy as it looks?" he asked.

"Yes," Hollie responded, not meaning to, only she was so damn hot. It was bad enough letting him work her up in her apartment, but here in school, it was so very wrong. The danger of it was working her up, until she trembled with passion.

In the relative safety of her empty classroom, Hollie turned on him. Before she had a chance to off-load the anger, he stopped her with a kiss. He wrapped her in his arms deeply caressing her. 

"I'm sorry, sir," she stuttered, when able to take a breath.

"Don't worry about her she's nothing, just someone to put everyone off from suspecting us. You know that. Don't you? You are mine, I'm your master, tell me," he demanded.

"Yes, master, I'm yours," she whispered. 

Looking around the classroom it seemed so strange to be there, admitting to a relationship that was obviously wrong. She had to admit, for her it wasn't just a game. Calling him master started as a game, though now she was beginning to strongly feel he was her master. 

"Do you promise to look after me?" she whispered.

"Yes! Your master will look after you. You must promise to obey me in return," he stipulated.

"Yes, master, I promise to obey you," she quietly submitted. At that moment she meant every word, driven by the dread of losing him. The fear of losing her career had been forgotten. The need for him was so strong she would have promised anything. 

"Give me your panties," he demanded. 

Without a moment of hesitation she submitted, despite feeling it was a dreadful thing to do. They both knew it was a token of her surrender and accepted it with shared looks. He looked at her with satisfaction, and she returned his smile with a nod of acquiescence. 

Hollie pulled up the skirt of her smart business suit, revealing stocking tops, and shimmied out of the panties. Holding onto her desk she pulled them from around the high heels. Handing them to him wasn't just a small token of surrender it was a deep symbol of submission. 

In her classroom she was handing over her panties to a student!

She held the skirt up showing off the suspender belts, tightly holding her creamy thighs. She couldn't help herself from wantonly showing herself off to him. The thought of that young rival had her desperate to please him.

"Keep the skirt up until I give you permission to drop it," Roger ordered.

Hollie looked from his serious face to the small knot of students gathering for the next class. She had already been excited from playing with herself, and even more so, because he had her panties in his hand. She took a deep breath and leaned against the desk, pinning the skirt in place around her thighs.

The students piled in hurrying past, not seeing her predicament, bustling in talking amongst themselves, finding desks and seats. As soon as they settled down they would notice her. Before that happened, he nodded. That was all it took to save her disgrace. Her master had given permission to cover her shameful display, so she straightened up, letting the skirt fall into place.

The feeling of submission wasn't so easily shrugged off. There were only two classes that afternoon, and she managed to bring herself together enough to conduct the class with decorum. 

***

Once home Hollie breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to run to her bedroom to pull on a pair of panties. All afternoon she had been careful not to mark the back of the skirt when sitting down. She had been fearful and aroused, though in control enough not to let it show.

She had playfully called Roger her master a few days ago, and this afternoon it had become more serious. She was in a turmoil knowing this too was going to be difficult to resist if he persisted with this new game. She wondered if he knew how deeply it affected her.

When Roger arrived she still hadn't slipped on a pair of panties. The lack of willpower to even carry out this simple act, without his permission, worried her.

"Roger, I'm sorry about this afternoon. It was foolish to, I mean, of course you can talk, I, that girl you were talking to," Hollie blustered incoherently. It couldn't be admitted she was jealous, even though they were both aware of it.

"Never mind that, it's past. Lift your skirt up, right up," Roger demanded.

Having her silliness dismissed left her feeling better. That she was a teacher, and an older woman being treated like a lovesick schoolgirl, left her feeling vulnerable.

"Your legs look so wonderful in those stockings and your thighs look so enticing," Roger grinned. 

From his raw enthusiasm and admiration Hollie felt reassured. His approval lifted her spirits. It didn't matter what she had to call him, for she was ready to give herself to him. She unconsciously swayed her hips, as though waving her denuded sex, enticing him. She was ready for her master to take her.

"That bare pussy looks ready for its master," he laughed.

Instead of dropping her skirt in embarrassment from the lewd remark, she thrust out her hips at him. It was no wonder Hollie was so sexed, up for she had been teased and kept on the edge all day. Giving away moral values with her panties she simply wanted to submit to her master.

"Oh, yes, your pussy is ready for its master," she seductively cooed. "I'm a slave to your cock, master," Hollie added, shocking herself. 

The moment of astonishment didn't last long, for she was soon breathing heavily, staring at him with a look of longing. The poor thing had been worked up into a frenzy of lust, willing to be anything he wanted, just so long as he took her.

"Please master, I need you," she whined.

"On your knees slave girl," he ordered, with a flick of his hand pointing to the floor. 

This isn't what she wanted; she needed his attention down there, where the ache of desire burned. He was her master and knew best, so she would have to obey him. Besides, it was sure to lead to what she desperately needed.

Hollie crawled across the floor to him, quickly unfastening his jeans to pull out a big hard juicy cock. She lavished it with kisses then pursed her lips over its head. With the gentlest of touches her lips held her masters throbbing head, while increasing the sucking ever so gradually. 

She wanted him to give in and take her. All inhibitions over demeaning herself so basely had evaporated. Feelings and desires fixed her mind into thinking of herself as his slave girl, dependent upon his cock. If he cum into her mouth it would have to be accepted, even though she needed to feel him riding her, completely taking her.

Roger watched his teacher teasing his cock. He had been surprised how obedient she had become despite figuring out she had a submissive side to her personality. The sight of his teacher on her knees submissively sucking on his cock was too much to resist.

In a state of aggressive excitement he pushed her to the floor. He lifted her legs over his shoulders, spreading them wide. His head pushed between her thighs, with his lips clamping upon her engorged sex, strongly sucking every thing into his mouth. His tongue explored inside her, reaching as far as possible, sensitising the red hot hole even more.

"Oh hell! Yes, master, yes, that's it, just there. Your slave needs you master. Please master, fuck your slave master. Your slave girl needs to feel you inside, master, please!" Hollie wailed.

He pulled away, to quickly move up her body, crushing her into the carpet. With fervour he thrust into her prone body. All the way in he reached with a rod of iron, swollen with lust. He pumped away at her with youthful enthusiasm and strength.

Although expected, Hollie had been taken by surprise, only recovering from the onslaught after feeling him thrusting in. She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his butt cheeks.

"Fuck me master! Oh, yes, master me, make me your slave. Fuck your slave hard!" she breathed out through clenched teeth.

Both of them wore animal ugly expressions of lustful craving. Both pushed and heaved in time to a shared need to orgasm. Roger beat her vagina with his manhood, while Hollie yelled out her need for him.

As though it were a race to an orgasm they drew to a finish. Roger slumped over her compliant body, squashing her. Hollie felt a part of him as though he had consumed her. He rolled off onto the carpet, dragging her with him, pulling her into his arms to crush her to his chest.

"I'm yours master," she whispered into his chest.

They staggered up from the floor, exhausted from the exertion of love making. It had been an animal like release, all inhibitions thrown aside. Now they threw aside their clothes, to shower. Together they explored each others bodies, more gently this time, with slippery suds.

"Put this on. No underwear though. Do your hair in plats," he demanded. 

This was something new and she wondered what further delights she was to comply with. On seeing a thin blouse and little skirt the reference to that first time together became clear. She was to dress like a fellow student, or was it as his slut? It didn't matter, she was his to command.

The skirt was too short not to wear a sensible pair of panties. The blouse was too thin not to wear a bra, without showing off her breasts. It wasn't that troubling her. He had seen her naked so many times she had no fear of him seeing her body, but what game was she to be playing now? 

"Your breasts look nice in that blouse" he said. 

Despite her nervousness she blushed at the compliment. 

"We're going out. Come on!" he told her. 

In a sudden fright she stammered. "No! Please master. I can't. What if someone sees me dressed like this. I can't master. Please, don't make me, master," she pleaded for mercy. 

With head down she gripped the skirts hem, trying not to be seen, while Roger drove through the crowded streets of the city centre. 

"We're here," he announced. 

The sound of the tyres crunching gravel gave a clue that they were somewhere out of town. Determined not to get out of the car she scrunched down in the seat only to slip forward out of the skirt, showing off not only her legs but everything else. 

Squirming in the seat she sat up to see with surprise a large modern house where she expected to be in some lonely park or parking lot. This was certainly not somewhere private. 

"My parents home," he declared. "Don't worry they're away," he added.

She remembered the place from before. With some relief she considered that at least he wasn't about to show her off to his friends. Dressed like a slut for his private amusement was one thing, but being shown off like this would be humiliating. Once inside it felt safe, at least enough to let go of the skirt, which had continually swirled around her thighs, threatening to reveal a bare bottom. 

"I'll show you around," he said. "This is the library, obviously," he joked. 

They continued through the house with a minimum of comments. Hollie was embarrassed when they passed his bedroom, from remembering that first night together. She was surprised he hadn't led her inside his room; instead she meekly let him lead her through the rest of the house. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 06



He led her around the pool and down a path, to a secluded area of the impressive grounds, all the time she wondered if it was the intention to impress, or something more serious was planned. She hoped to be allowed home once they had seen everything.

Among the trees was a quaint looking cottage, perhaps something for servants or visitors.

"In you go. Do you like it? What do you think?" He asked, with obvious pride. "It's mine," he said. "I hang out here most of the time, away from the main house," he told her. 

It didn't take long showing her around the small kitchen, bedroom and lounge. The interior had been completely renovated with modern facilities. It was less tidy than the bedroom he had taken her to before, which confirmed this was where he lived.

"It used to be a guest lodge, and on my seventeenth birthday I was given this to live in, to practise being independent. That was over a year ago," he said. "You can make some coffee while I make the bed. I didn't tidy up or anything last time I was here," he said. 

That reminded her he had been staying over at her apartment. If she could escape him tonight, maybe the habit could be broken. She needed time to return to normality. She was trying to think of excuses to return home without him.

"So this is how you could stay over at my place, without your parents missing you," Hollie reasoned. She wondered how much of an allowance he had to be able to afford the clothes bought for her.

Hollie had tried to tell him not to visit her every evening in case someone noticed. He hadn't taken any notice, so this might be a solution. The place was discreet enough to visit him unnoticed. She would also be in control of how often they met. The drawback would be that he was more in control of her in his den. 

More than usual Hollie felt subdued because they were in his home. It may have been the added respect for him, gained from the tour of his parent's wealthy home. It was more than that it was the way he had taken control of her life. Every time she gave in to him it had pushed her deeper into a passive role. Each time she called him sir, or playfully called him master, it emphasised their relationship.

Typical of an adolescent, the place was in a mess. She bent to the task of tidying up, mindful of what she was displaying in the little skirt. 

Knowing he was watching her bend over, she gave him a coquettish look over her shoulder, and reddened with embarrassment. While handing him a drink, he stroked her bare bottom and thighs. She continued to tidy up between serving snacks and drinks, as though she were his maid.

A couple of times she refrained from calling him her master. That reminded her of earlier in class, when she had submitted to him so deeply. It was humiliating to think how submissive she had been with a student in her classroom.

"I should go home. I need rest from all that you put me through this afternoon," she said, trying to sound firm. Dressed up as his sexy slut it was difficult to sound like a responsible adult, let alone like his teacher.

She was looking down at him looking serious. He tweaked a nipple, which stood proud of the blouse. As usual she was feeling hot from his attention. 

"Stop that! You can call me taxi. It would be a good idea to take a break, maybe cool down a little. Everything is getting way out of hand," she complained.

"Just bring me a coke and I'll decide if you can leave," he strongly told her.

In the kitchen she sighed heavily. It shouldn't be him deciding if she could go home; the idea was ridiculous. It was a waiting game he was playing and she knew it. He was toying with her, like a cat with a mouse. The occasional pawing of her naughty bits kept her stoked up. 

"Here's you drink. Did you make that call?" she asked, sounding cross.

An unexpected pinch between her thighs brought a squeal of pain from her lips, and she spilt the glass of cola into his lap. 

"Oh! Sorry. I'll mop it up," she said, while running to the kitchen. Returning quickly with a cloth Hollie rubbed his crotch, giggling at the hard lump she was teasing. 

"You're a naughty slave girl," he told her. 

"Yes sir, sorry sir," she mischievously said.

Hollie was on the edge between insisting he call a cab, and giving in to him. Summoning the last of her willpower she decided to leave, even if it meant walking out dressed like a slut, in search of a cab.

As she straightened up he pulled her over his lap. Playfully slapping her cheeks he elicited giggles rather than protests. He stopped as her bottom became red. 

He was looking down at his teacher's bare arse, reddened by his hand. It was incredible how this had happened. In just a few weeks he had her here in his own home, bare arsed over his knee. He could never have planned this, and anyway, it would never have happened if he had tried. 

He felt elated and supremely powerful, able to accomplish anything he wanted with her. Sliding off his knees she looked up at him with a playful look, daring him to do something. 

"You are enjoying this too much, slut," Roger grinned. "Remember you promised to be my obedient slave?" he asked. When she nodded dumbly, looking thoughtful, he knew he would have to do something or lose the initiative. Something audacious was needed to keep her in place.

"Behave yourself or you'll go over my knee again for a spanking, I'm your master so do as you are told," he fiercely told her.

"Sorry, master," she humbly spoke. She wasn't sorry, as her face revealed a need for him. She rubbed her sore bottom, feeling aroused from the demonstration of his power over her. 

He had intended to work her up for the usual heady sex session, though now he had a better idea. 

"Stand up," he commanded.

Expecting to crawl to him and undo his zip, she was surprised, and wondered what was on his mind. She rubbed her bottom with both hands, exaggerating the warm glow, for sympathy. 

"I'm sorry, master. It won't happen again. Honest, master," she said, trying to hold back a giggle. Calling him master was putting in the mood, wanting him to assert his dominance and take her.

She was his teacher, yet felt so excited from sinking into this role, freely calling him her master. It was partly from being so aroused all day and the way she was dressed. He had a way of getting to her, finding her weakness, controlling her.

"Stand in the corner. You will learn to do as you are told like a good slave girl," he commanded. 

With a petulant look overtaking the warm glow of expectation, she walked into a corner of the room. 

"Put your hands on your head. I'll be back in a minute. Don't you dare move or you'll be punished again!" he warned. 

Before leaving the lounge he took a good look at her. What had been found on the internet had been right, she had a submissive personality. His cock ached from the sight of his teacher standing there, with bare cheeks peeking from under the short skirt. It was the control he had over her that thrilled him so much. 

Rummaging around in draws he eventually came across the things he wanted. When Hollie rubbed her sore bottom his memory had been jogged. They belonged to a diplomat's wife, and were left in the back of a wardrobe when the couple stayed the night. 

The internet was useful for looking up what they were used for. He had lain awake in bed, imagining the tall attractive blonde in his room. Unsure as to why, he nevertheless flogged himself off in a daydream, as he watched her use them. 

Hollie was feeling so stupid she wanted to run home like a young girl, after not getting her own way. Trying to remind herself she was a teacher, not a silly schoolgirl, she nevertheless stayed where she had been put. The humiliation of being treated like his slave girl left her even more excited. 

Looking over her shoulder she knew this was going to be the only opportunity to escape him. Once he returned she would fall under his control. Looking down at the short skirt and brief top she hesitated, feeling too embarrassed to leave. She rubbed her thighs together, managing to press her engorged lips. It didn't help.

"Come here and bend over my knee," he ordered. 

Hollie jumped in surprise, and quickly walked to him. There was a tube of ointment in his hand, so it was obvious her sore cheeks were to be soothed. Although they no longer stung, she anticipated his delightful touch with pleasure. 

The touch of his fingers was wonderful, though not so nice when a finger slipped into her bottom. She forgave that, when he paid special attention to her lips. The hands massaged and fingers explored, eliciting a soft murmur of comfort and desire. 

At last he was paying her the attention craved for after so much teasing. All that week she had pandered to his whims, after he worked her up into a state of arousal. 

It had to be admitted she had been trying to provoke him all evening, only to find it was she who was being brought to a heightened sense of expectation. She had behaved like a naughty slut in the brief outfit. She now wanted to be his slave girl, if it meant receiving what she had become used to and craved.

"You are a naughty little slut, slave girl," he told her. "What are you?" he asked.

"I'm a naughty slutty slave girl," she sighed back.

"You need to be kept under control for your own good. What am I to do with you?" he asked. The seriousness of his voice was driven by desire, rather than meaning to be strict with her.

"Anything master wants, anything master," she replied, on a breathy whisper.

"Ouch!" she yelped. 

Hollie was brought back to reality from a pleasant reverie, by a sharp pain in her bottom. It was a mild shock unable to be ignored, even though his hands continued to massage between her thighs. The pain subsided leaving a full feeling in her bottom, unsettling the pleasantness of the massage. 

"Stand up, I'm finished with you, slave girl," he ordered. 

She stood almost to attention before him, wondering what had happened. Wanting to reach her bottom to find out what he had done, she instead just stood there. She looked bemused, wondering why he wasn't playing with her.

"You will wear that butt plug all the time. If you need to remove it, you will have to ask my permission," he said. 

In a state of confusion the significance of what was said passed her by. Feeling behind her she found a small rubbery object stuck to her bottom. Pulling at it, as though it were a plaster, she felt it move inside her bottom. Unable to speak she pulled at it in panic, unable to pull it free.

"What have you done? Its stuck," she blurted out

"Don't pull it you'll hurt yourself," he said. "Turn around and bend over," he added. 

She complied with his instruction, wanting it removed. It didn't hurt, it just felt uncomfortable. He touched it, and with every movement sensations travelled up inside her bottom, until it became difficult to keep still. 

"Walk across the room and back. Take small steps," Roger warned. 

"Can't you get it out?" she cried in anguish. 

"Not yet. Do as you're told you," he commanded. 

Trying to walk with small steps, so as not to move it around too much, it still created little waves of sensations within. They were becoming less painful, until with some dismay, she found they were stimulating, or was it the sheer wickedness of it? Back and forth she walked, until it was possible to move without too much difficulty. 

"Can you remove it now? Please master!" she asked, with a look of pain on her face. 

"I told you. You must wear it all the time, until I am ready to remove it," he reminded her.

"Is this part of my punishment?" she asked, expecting the answer to be more ominous. Was this just another humiliation, one of many to be expected? After all she was his pet project to be experimented on. 

Preparing lunch she stopped suddenly while bending down, becoming very aware of the object in her bottom. Its significance was realised when she considered she would have to ask his permission to go to the bathroom. Far more than she had imagined, the teacher had become an obedient slave girl, before a demanding master. 

A sob escaped her mouth with the understanding of how completely he had conquered her body, feelings, and mind. Every time she thought of escape, he managed to gain an even greater control over her. 

Standing by him as he ate, she felt the usual gentle strokes of thighs and bottom. He occasionally pushed at the butt plug enhancing the erotic feelings. The awful butt plug was fitted tightly into her body and the gentlest push and pull was doing something to her. The humiliation of wearing the awful device from his whims was arousing more and more.

That night he returned to the habit she desired so much when he massaged her entire body, paying the most studious attention to her bottom by scratching and nudging the butt plug. The more excited she became the more relaxed with the plug she was, until it too was a source of pleasure. A great orgasm overcame her. It was prolonged by his sensitive touches, and she vocally let him know he was in control of her body. 

"Oh! Yes! I'm there. I'm cumin, master! Thank you master, thank you for making me cum," she gratefully sighed.

Early next morning she wondered when he would let her return home. The urgency was no longer from a desire to remove the rude thing up her bottom but from the simple need to escape from his overwhelming stimulation of her senses. Before his parents arrived she would need some clothes, and then escape. 

The thought of walking up the path to her apartment wearing this short skirt and the butt plug was both stimulating and terrifying. Unable to resist any longer she gave in to ask. "When are you taking me home?" 

He looked at her and smiled. "My parents are away so you can stay here. It will be easier away from the apartment. I want you to be my slave girl," he laughed. 

Looking at him in dismay she wondered what he might try out on her over a whole week, playing his dreadful games. 

"I can't stay here all week. I must go home. I need clothes and my things," she said, while meaning freedom from him, with time alone to think. 

What would become of her if left alone with this sex fiend? Already alarmingly dependent on him, she would end up a grovelling slave girl, begging him to take her in any way he wished.

Left alone to clean the house she kept busy, trying not to think about anything except the task in hand. Once dressed for school she would feel more confident and more able to resist him. She must reassert her authority as a responsible adult.

"Honey I'm home," he shouted. He laughed as he brought in boxes of her things, from the apartment, and ferried them upstairs to the bedroom. 

"This looks nice. You can wear it to school," he said. 

Looking at the short summer dress she shook her head. "Not that. It's too short and you've not brought a slip to wear under it. I'm your teacher not a hooker," she protested. 

"It's up to you. Wear it or what you have on now," he said.

Seeing the determination on his face she realised she would have to win him round. 

"Please, master. Master doesn't want the guys in class to ogle his slave girl. Please let your slave girl wear something sensible. Please, master," Hollie said, with a girly voice and a look designed to gain sympathy.

"You get to choose what to wear, with the underwear from yesterday, on condition you wear the butt plug," he smiled. He watched the smile turn to a look of consternation. He enjoyed watching his teacher squirm before him, from the obviously awful decision.

Hollie hated both choices, though at least no one would be aware of that dreadful thing in her bottom, so the usual business suit was the best option. At the door he made her lift the skirt around her waist. By now it was a usual routine, so no longer daunting, just embarrassing.

"Please master, can you take out that thing from my bottom, its uncomfortable. Please master, I'll be a good slave girl and obey my master," she implored him. She felt weak and pathetic waiting to be inspected by him before school. It was even more demeaning to be pleading with him to remove that awful butt plug. 

"Stand still slave girl, stop fidgeting. You will obey your master without question," he told her.

"Yes, master," she demurely replied.

He pulled the panties to one side to inspect her shaven pussy, checking it was smooth enough. He pressed on the butt plug, as a reminder of her submission to his whims. He was satisfied on hearing the tiny whimper of resignation.

"I'll visit my slave at lunchtime to remove it. Very good slave girl, you are ready for school," he indulgently smiled. 

"Thank you master, whatever you say master," she whispered. 

At that moment Hollie felt so passive she was ready to obey his every command. His touch of her once private places, and the thought of being in class wearing the butt plug as a symbol of her lowly position, fired her up.

He had the keys to her apartment so there wasn't the slightest chance to escape him. He watched her transfer to her car from his van, and followed her to school. 

In class she sat pensively, trying not to move or press down upon the bad thing in her bottom. Even so, it was a constant reminder of her lowly position. No longer was she a figure of authority, or even a free willed responsible adult. She was now a young student's sex object, something to be played with. From now on she would be submitting to his every whim, obeying his every command.

As a sex slave all her inhibitions had been lifted, as responsibility for her actions shifted to him, her master. Every time she fidgeted upon the seat it was a stark reminder that she was his submissive sex slave. The thrill of it kept her so hot she shivered in anticipation of what she might submit to tonight.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 07



In class Hollie was quiet and the students quickly caught onto her mood. Earlier in the year she had asserted her authority, so now they were glad to just get on with their work without much supervision. Besides, it was near the end term so they had the party to think about, and were winding down for the summer break.

Lunchtime came around too slowly, and as anticipated Roger appeared as soon as the students left her class. She needed her master to remove the butt plug, so she would have to submit to him, even here in what should have been her domain.

She stood up as soon as he entered, standing to attention before him. It was embarrassing feeling so submissive, while hearing students noisily passing outside in the corridor. The classroom was silent, a moment Hollie usually enjoyed.

She shivered in anticipation when he strode up to her to stand very close. She smiled up at him with a longing look.

"Master," she sighed. 

"Open up the jacket," he said. 

She had kept the jacket on as a symptom of needing to protect her body. Besides that, the nipple rings might show through the thin silk bra and white cotton blouse. Feeling his hands over her breasts through the blouse, her face reddened in embarrassment.

He pinched her nipples and pulled on the nipple rings, watching them grow proud of the thin cotton. Embarrassment turned to humiliation, as he pushed his hand up the skirt to feel between her legs. 

"Please master, I need to go to the bathroom," she stated. Her breathing was ragged from being so heated from his touch, and his powerful presence.

He kept a hold of her sex, preventing her from escaping, though he knew what she meant. "It stays in all day. Do you understand?" he asked. 

"But master, I need it removed for the bathroom, please!" she implored him, with words and a desperate look in her eyes. She had of course tried to remove it, but there was some kind of mechanism holding it in.

She had intended to avoid calling him master in her class, with the hope of limiting his power over her to outside of school. Needing him to remove the butt plug was just an excuse to defer to him. As soon as he was close, a shiver of excitement brought on an overwhelming thrill, bringing with it a need to be controlled.

"Follow me, slave girl," he ordered.

Discreetly she followed her master, trying to look casual, as though they were not together. She had to leave the jacket in class, so anyone could see her erect nipples protruding through the blouse. A faint outline of the small piercing rings was clearly visible. That wasn't what made her so nervous. She was worried about where he was taking her, and what he had planned.

When he walked into the first aid room she hesitated, fiddling with her bag, desperately hoping no one would see her follow him in. Looking around to ensure no one would notice, she quickly slipped in to the room. She needed that damn butt plug removed, so there was no choice, she had to capitulate to his demands.

"Bend over," Roger ordered. 

With a momentary thought of how inappropriate this behaviour was for a teacher, she bent over the cot, and lifted the back of her skirt. He pulled down her panties and she stepped out of them. She only just resisted a desire to wiggle her ass at him, to entice him with her pussy that was now rudely protruding between her thighs. 

It hit her hard that she had become such an appalling slut under his influence. Fiddling with the butt plug excited her, which was a new and confusing experience. It had never occurred to her that anal stimulation could be arousing. She hoped it was because it was him doing it to her, and not another perversion he had taught her.

"In there, and make sure you clean yourself up," he demanded.

"Thank you master," she whispered. It should have been humiliating being told to clean herself up for him, yet she felt grateful to be allowed to use the toilet. His control of her body and mind was becoming so ingrained she accepted it.

Scuttling back to him she again bent over. Her thoughts were racing with trepidation over where they were and how dangerous this was. To be caught with a student would be fatal to her career. Being caught having him fit a butt plug into her bottom would be extremely shameful.

"Does my slave girl want something else, something big and hard inside her?" Roger asked his teacher.

"Oh! Master! Yes please master," Hollie whispered. As the words left her lips she shivered from fear. She really did need his cock, but here in school it was so wrong, and so very dangerous.

"Ask properly," he demanded.

Not wanting to risk her career she nevertheless capitulated to a deep need. "Please, master, take your slave girl, make your slave girl happy, please," she whispered. The close sound of two students arguing outside the door was frightening and arousing.

"Do you want your master to spank you, for not asking properly?" he asked.

The thought of anyone hearing loud slaps upon her bare bottom, as she was spanked by a student in school, was dreadful. "Please master, tell your poor slave girl what she must say," she implored of him.

"Do you want your master's cock in your slutty teacher's cunt? Do you want to be fucked?" he asked.

Overwhelming passion rocked her back on her heels. The nasty words fired up an already overheated body. Her whole body was smouldering with passion, emanating from a throbbing hot pussy.

"Please master! Fuck your slutty teacher's cunt. Your teacher is your sex slave, master, and needs to be fucked, slave girl needs to feel your big hard cock in her cunt, please master," she whimpered. 

The bad words spilled from her lips uncensored. All inhibitions had been surrendered, as she became totally submissive to him. Feeling his cock nestling between her swollen lips ignited her. She was on fire with passion. A loud moan rang around the small room. 

Roger reached for a bandage, conveniently left out on a shelf above the cot. 

Hollie hardly noticed him gagging her. All her attention was concentrated upon her sex. She pushed back upon him but he avoided her. Instead his cock teased her by sliding over wet lips and engorged bud. With every squirming movement it ran across her gaping wet hole, causing a heightened frustration, and muffled moans.

He slapped her ass. "Hold still naughty slut teacher," he whispered in her ear.

"Please master, fuck your slutty teacher! I'm your slut slave, please fuck your wanton cunt, please!" she moaned through the improvised gag.

Roger wrapped his arms around her and pulled open the blouse. He tweaked her nipples, pulling upon the piercing rings. She yelped with pain. If she had been able to think clearly, she would have been surprised to find she was fired up from the pain.

Unable to hold on, she pushed back, trying to find his cock. This time he thrust in, hard and deep. He had to put a hand over her mouth and gag, to stifle the yells of pleasure. With the other hand he squeezed a breast, pumping it in time with the thrusts of his cock.

"Fuck your slave's cunt hard, master. Punish your teacher for being such a wanton slut, master. Fuck your teacher's tight cunt hard, master," she tried to yell, through the gag and his hand. 

Roger slapped her ass hard. "Keep quiet you nasty little slut," he demanded.

It was no good for she was unaware of anything but his cock. He was driving hard into her with all his youthful vigour. He lifted her off the ground with every strong thrust. She moaned fitfully when held off the ground, briefly supported by his cock pressing tight up inside. It seemed to stretch her vagina it felt so full of cock. 

The wonderful feeling of being full of her master's cock was electric. Feeling him cum, she too had a deep orgasm. Her whole body trembled. Hollie was overcome with love for her master. Nothing else mattered. She was his willing sex slave, under his control and loving every moment of her submission. 

Feeling his cock recede from within, left her needing him all the more. It was a consolation when he tightly wrapped his arms around her body. 

"Calm down, my lovely slave girl," he soothingly spoke, close to her ear.

She had been whimpering sounds of delight to him, through the gag. It was only then she properly realised he had her gagged. She was breathing hard through her nose. The sounds of students gathering along the corridor, talking loudly as they made their way back to classes, came to her in a rush. 

It was both humiliating and exciting to be gagged, bent over bare assed, with his cum running down her legs. Anyone walking in now would be shocked. To see a teacher in such a demeaning and crude position was unthinkable. Hollie wallowed in the lowly position of being nothing more than a student's compliant sex slave.

"Your master has another surprise for his slave girl," he said.

"Thank you master," she automatically replied, not worried in the slightest if it might be yet another demeaning experience.

"Hold still," he said, when she fidgeted. 

She felt his fingers gliding over her pussy lips, still sensitive from a thorough fucking. 'My master has fucked his cunt hard,' she purred silently. The thought shocked her. That she should think of her-self like that, and used such mean words, was surely wrong. The feel of something entering her vagina cut short the idea.

"What is it? Master," she meekly enquired. So worried was she the necessary word, 'Master', was added as an after thought. "What have you done to your slave, master?" she asked, with a tremulous voice.

"It's a Chinese egg. It will keep you on your toes this afternoon. Don't worry, you'll find out how it works later," he smiled. Roger cupped her sex in a hand, pressing both her pussy and the butt plug. Her sex had been so wet and open the device had slipped in easily. 

He helped her pull up her panties and pulled her blouse back together. She was stunned and compliant, from what he had done to her, as well as recovering from a deep orgasm.

"Your slave girl needs to wash, master," she quietly mentioned. It was highly embarrassing, having to ask a student for permission to wash his sperm away from her thighs. 

He cupped his hand, running it up her thighs, and held it to her lips. Without being ordered she licked his hand clean. The salty acrid taste was a mixture of hers and his sex juices. The nasty taste was only pleasing because it was her master's important seed. 

His voice had become so commanding over the week, whereas her demeanour had sunk to an even greater low. He had completely mastered her. He controlled her in her apartment, then his, and now in school. It seemed her only refuge was in her classroom,

In his apartment she was his obedient slave girl, willing to pander to his every whim. She recognised this as a terribly pathetic condition to be in, but could do nothing about it.

***

Hollie was unaware of those around her as she staggered back to her class. The throng of students parted for her as they to hurried back to a class. 

Conflicting feelings and thoughts raced through her mind. How could she have let a student do that to her, let alone doing it here in school. It was so bad, so very wrong. 

Despite this she was on a high. Her master had taken control, demonstrating his power over her. He had made her his sex slave by controlling her body and mind.

In class it had been difficult at first to take charge, or to even find her voice. She made the excuse of suffering from a throat infection. This helped keep them quiet until she reclaimed some composure. Sitting as still as possible she tried to forget that awful thing up her bottom. Whatever it was in her pussy, she tried not to dwell upon. 

In the middle of a lecture about a historical figure she would be suddenly reminded of what her master had done to her. A simple movement would have both devices rubbing inside her, colliding together, sending little quivers of sensations through her body.

Her nipples were engorged and her pussy was soaking her panties. Not allowed to wash his sperm from her legs meant they were encrusted with a mixture of their sex juices. She had to keep to the front of the class, away from them, fearing the students would smell the odour of an illicit encounter.

If not that, then surely they could see her engorged nipples. The guys were taking a close interest in her, and it wasn't the boring subject of the revolutionary wars. When someone asked about slavery she felt weak. Her voice cracked when trying to answer the question. 

She was a slave! She was a young master's slave, ready to be mounted by him, whenever he felt the urge. 

"It was terrible being a slave, and owning one too. It corrupted them both," Jean crossly answered for her. 

"I was just thinking about my father saying he was a wage slave," Billy answered.

"Some looked after their slaves so well they were better off. I mean they were paid so poorly, after the war, when free," Jim added.

"I'd look after you if you were my slave girl, Jean," Daniel interjected. 

Both Jean and Hollie blushed brightly, while the class laughed. Jean was looking at Daniel, trying to think of a clever retort. The look she gave him was a mixture of anger and pleasure. 

"I bet you'd enjoy being his slave girl, Jean," Jim taunted, for a greater round of laughter.

"That's enough! You know I don't tolerate a noisy class. It's an interesting debate but let's get back on track. For the next twenty minutes read silently from chapter ten. Then we will continue. The class groaned, not as loudly as the teacher wanted to.

She had to sit down, wanting to cover her flaming red breasts, feeling the nipples on fire. Her face was embarrassingly red and the colour had spread down her neck to her breasts. On sitting the devices inside were squashed inside her body, sending messages of desire to her nipples, further inflaming them. 

With orders not to wear the jacket, she had to leave her breasts on show, for the whole class to see. It wasn't too obvious, but the way she felt, the blouse and bra seemed no protection at all. The small piercing rings wouldn't have been so bad on a student, though on a responsible teacher, they looked lewd.

The first afternoon class seemed to drag on for ever. She imagined everyone staring at her breasts. She croaked out a request for them to quietly study, while she looked at some paperwork. Her throat was constricted from being so aroused and embarrassed.

The girls were looking at her with subtle acknowledgement, some sympathetic, others gave her derisory looks. The guys were less subtly ogling her. They sensed the state she was in, rather than knowing what she was going through from experience. 

It was a relief when the class changed and Roger walked in. Her master was there and he had promised to look after her. She began to relax under his benevolent smile. 

This time she didn't attempt to stand and lecture the class. Instead she quietly asked them to study whatever they felt they needed to. Not willing to jeopardise this unexpected free time, they settled down to daydream or actually study something, not necessarily history.

She looked at her master with a longing look. She noticed he was pointing something at her. It was hidden in his hand, but she was looking at him intently and watched his fingers, otherwise the slight movement would have been missed. What she couldn't miss was the movement inside her vagina, causing a slight vibration. Intently watching his fingers, the suspicion was confirmed, when he fiddled with it again, and the vibration inside her body intensified. 

Damn! He held a remote control for that Egg. He was stimulating her vagina in class! Already feeling hot, he was driving her to the edge of an orgasm. Not in class! 

That couldn't happen, especially since he had her yelping and screaming at the peak of a deep climax. Sex had never been so thoroughly consuming before he took control of her. It had always been a quiet and pleasant feeling, never so dramatic.

She looked at him with a pleading look, needing it to stop. He was taking control of her in the very last sanctuary left to her. 'Please, master, don't fuck with your teacher's cunt in class, please master.' 

For a dreadful moment she thought she had whispered the demeaning words. Hollie struggled out of the chair and hobbled to the door. "I won't be long, just carry on working, and above all, keep quiet," she breathlessly told the class.

She didn't remember staggering along the corridor to the restroom. She sat there biting her lip trying not to make a sound. The damn Egg was still vibrating even though she must be out of range of the control he used. Damn! It would carry on stimulating her until she returned, and he decided to switch it off.

Playing with her bud was a necessity if she were to get back to the classroom. Imagining her master was taking care of her she pressed her hard little button then began to rub it hard. 

"Please master, let me cum!" she desperately whined. 

It didn't take long for an orgasm to develop and it was soon over. It helped, only marginally. 

She was still sensitive to the vibrations within her vagina, but could now withstand the stimulation. When she stood up the Egg pressed against the butt plug through the thin wall separating them. She yelped and held onto the wall. She turned around to lean over the toilet with legs spread, as though being searched by a cop. 

Her legs were spread wide, trying to give the two devices inside her body room. 

"How the hell did I get into this? He has me panting for his cock in my classroom. I can't go on like this," she complained, in a low whine.

Hollie walked back to class bow legged, as though she had been riding a horse for a week. Pulling herself up straight outside the door, she walked in, trying to appear normal, as though nothing was wrong. It was all wrong, so damn wrong!

She looked at her master with a pleading look, and thankfully watched him switch her off. She was still suffering from an over sensitive vagina. Every time she squirmed in the seat she had to squash her swollen lips against the chair.

Daring to look up at him she saw the warm smile and quickly looked down at the papers on her desk; unable to focus on them. He had demonstrated yet again his power over her. He could work her up with his mere presence, and a touch of his hand had her wanting him. Now he could switch her on at the merest whim, like a love doll, open and ready for his cock.

***

Driving from school she was so preoccupied with thinking of a way to get out of this awful predicament, she mistakenly arrived at her apartment. Damn! She didn't have the key, so had to drive on to his house. 

On arriving he was waiting for her. Without even a hello or letting her speak, Roger made his demands upon her.

"Turn around and lift up your dress. Bend over," he commanded. 

Feelings of humiliation swept over her as she let her student examine her bottom, reminding her of his power over her. He moved it around eliciting a soft murmur of pleasure. 

She gasped in delight on feeling his fingers exploring her pussy. Damn! He was checking to see if she still had the Egg inside her vagina. It was still there, as she knew only too well on the drive here. Every bump in the road vibrated the damn thing.

"I'll take them out later. Something to eat first then we can play. For following instructions you deserve a reward, and we have the whole evening ahead of us," he lightly said. 

"Please master, can you take out the Egg, please?" she asked. She watched him finger the small control panel and shuddered. She shouldn't be asking anyone, let alone a student, to free her of such a horrid thing. 

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked. 

"Sort of master," she demurely replied, looking over her shoulder at him. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 07



"You went out of the classroom this afternoon. I assume you went to the restroom. What did you do there?" he asked.

"I had to relieve myself master," she answered.

"You know what I mean, tell me," he fiercely asked.

"I err, played with my pussy master," she reluctantly admitted. 

"Your pussy? Don't you mean my cunt?" he asked.

"Yes, master, your slave girl is sorry master. I played with your cunt, master," she whimpered in disgrace.

"Did you cum?" he demanded to know.

"Yes master," she demurely answered. He looked at her demanding more.

"I'm sorry master. I couldn't stand it any more. Your slave girl just had to play with her master's cunt. Your teacher is such a slut she had to play with her master's cunt until she had an orgasm. Only a small one, sorry master," she whined, in one long outpouring.

"You are such a horny little slut of a teacher. You need your master to control you. From now on you will not cum unless given permission. Do you understand slave girl. Tell me," he demanded.

"Yes master! Your teacher is such a dirty little slut she has to have permission to cum. Thank you master," she whined.

Roger looked at her cunt, seeing how wet and sexed up she had become. She loved this degrading treatment. Instead of just answering him with the minimum of words she was embellishing her answers, revealing how much she needed to be treated badly.

Waves of sensations were arousing her as she undressed in their room. She hoped it was from her master's touch, rather than the butt plug and the Egg, which was still inside her. Examining it in the mirror she hoped not to be coming too used to it, for what then, was this stimulation of her bottom changing her sexual drive? 

She suspected her whole outlook to sex had been changed permanently, but what could she do? It was already too late to go back to being an innocent young woman, as the flood gates had been opened to submission and domination. 

Used to parading before him naked she hadn't considered dressing to prepare the evening meal. Hollie became excited when he idly stroked her body, while she served him dinner. She snatched something to eat in the kitchen, while fetching and carrying for her master. 

Becoming frustrated from his desultory attention she was prepared to beg him to take her. In the kitchen she removed the frilly little apron, primped her hair, and quickly returned to him for the promised reward. 

"Master, please!" she implored him. Standing before him naked she struck a seductive pose, and looked at him with a pleading pout. 

"I know what you want you naughty slut. First let's see to this plug, then a well deserved reward for my little pet," he said. 

Eagerly slipping on to his lap, like a love sick puppy, she pushed her bottom up at him, not caring about the indignity of it, as she thought of nothing except the promised orgasm. 

"Stop wriggling slut," he told her, and slapped her bottom.

It was difficult delving in to get a grip upon the Egg. She was enjoying being fingered, and to keep her quiet he rubbed her bud with a thumb. Eventually he managed to pull it free.

With some effort he pulled the plug from her bottom then massaged her thoroughly between the legs, not missing the slightest crease or crevice. He soon had her purring with pleasure, while fingers of both hands lubricated her with grease sliding between cheeks and lips, teasingly entering both holes. Fingers tenderly circled both holes eliciting shudders from a prone body bent in two, with head and toes nearly touching the floor.

Far away from body and mind all there existed was a cloud of sensations. Brought back to the world of pain she felt the butt plug enter her hole. This time it slipped in easier and she again slumped over his knee as he continued to stroke her, hardly interrupting the rhythm. 

She didn't care now what he did to her body, so long as he continued to play the symphony of sensations resonating throughout her body. Eventually she climaxed. Reaching a near state of nirvana he kept her there for some time, until again a gentle pulse emanated from between her legs, out to the limbs, curling toes and fingers. 

He couldn't see the bared teeth, but heard the throaty cry as she cum again. Jerking almost off his lap the throws of an orgasm racked her body, until she stiffened straight out with legs and head up. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh, my god!" she loudly cried, and then slumped once more, limp over his lap. 

Slapping her bottom he told her. "Come on. Off. Kneel before me." Unable to move he helped roll her onto the floor, where she dragged her wrought body into a kneeling position, head slumped forward almost into his lap.

"Thank you master, thank you for letting your slave girl cum," she beamed up at him.

"That's not the end of your reward. There is more to come," he grinned. He pointed to a hard lump in his trousers. 

Roger watched his teacher eagerly unzip his jeans. She needed no prompting now. A few weeks ago he would have cum in his pants on see his teacher drooling over the prospect of sucking his cock. She deliciously licked his cock then sucked it into her warm welcoming mouth. 

Preferring it between her legs, this would suffice until later. With passion she sucked and slurped on him, caressing her master's cock and balls with both hands with consummate skill, learnt during the past weeks. 

When he spurted into her mouth, she only just stopped from swallowing. Leaning back a little, she opened her mouth to proudly display his sperm on her tongue, waiting for his order. 

"You have learnt well my little slave girl. You can swallow now," he told her. 

Making a show of drinking it down, she then sunk her head into his lap to lick him clean. 

"Thank you for your lovely sperm, master," she cooed, not feeling self-conscious at all, from showing her subservience so blatantly. 

"I have some gifts for my little slave girl," he smiled. It was pleasing to see her so pathetically delighted. He wondered how she would react on finding out what the rest of the evening held in store.

"In the bedroom you will find a dress. You may wear it this evening as a reward. There are shoes too," he added. 

Helping her up from the floor, he held onto her hand. He unexpectedly kissed her tenderly on the lips, to which she opened her mouth, and was disappointed when he didn't penetrate her mouth. Knowing him so well, she realised he was teasing her for something to come. 

"Later," he said. "I want you dressed and prepared for more," he ordered. 

With a light step she floated to the bedroom, anticipating with pleasure her master's gift. 

A few weeks ago she wouldn't have considered it a present for her, rather something for his enjoyment. It was a designer dress and looked impressively expensive. Hollie caught herself thinking about her master looking after her. Being able to afford such expensive clothes and devices meant his allowance was large enough to keep her. 

She shivered in delight over the idea of being owned as a slave. It was exciting being so much under his control. All her moral inhibitions and worldly cares would be handed over to a master.

It was a white sheer sheath. It fit the contours of her body as though made for it. There was no underwear in the exclusive stores cardboard box. There was just a pair of white stockings, and a pair of white high heeled shoes. Wobbling a little on the heels, she hesitated before the mirror, preening her hair and adjusting the dress. 

She had to lift the dress around her waist to wipe her pussy.

"I can't let him keep doing this to me. He's turned me into such a hot slut I'm going to catch on fire! He's keeping me in such a continual state of arousal I can't think straight or resist him. Just two weeks till the end of term, and then I can escape," she whispered to the mirror. 

The thought of leaving him filled her with dread. It would have to be done, or she might never recover. 

Nervously she presented herself to the master. Being clothed seemed sexier than standing before him naked, although in that dress she might as well have been. 

"You look wonderful, a delicious princess, my sweet princess. I look forward to eating my dessert later on," he laughed. 

"Thank you, master," she giggled. She felt so sexy she wanted to dance up and down with joy. Though moving around was difficult enough in the high heels. 

Glowing from his approval she set about the household chores fetching and carrying for him, all the time teasing him with her body. Soon he would take her to bed for a session so much craved for. It brought her to a heightened state of arousal just thinking about it. 

"Come on slave girl, the chores are all done," he told her.

In consternation she followed him to the door, not to his bed as expected.

Hollie tried to dissuade him, but he gripped her hand, leading the way to his van. She sat nervously, fidgeting from being aware of how rude the dress was without underwear. Recognising the strip mall she groaned in an agony of fear. She didn't want to get out, but he opened the door, and pulled her into his arms. 

They walked into the piercing and tattoo parlour, hand in hand. 

"Hi Joe," Roger greeted the tattooist.

"Hi Roger, back for more?" he said.

Roger guided his teacher into the chair. He noticed the worried look on her face, so stroked her hair. 

"There, there pet, don't worry. Your master isn't going to hurt you. You've already been pierced, so nothing to fear," Roger soothingly spoke. 

She closed her eyes when told to pull down the top of the dress. Her breasts were on show, but the ugly guy didn't seem bothered. He had seen plenty of them, and had seen hers before. That didn't make it any less embarrassing.

She closed her eyes tighter, as the guy fiddled with her nipples. "Ouch!" she yelped, with the pain bringing tears to her eyes.

"Sorry, pet. It's nearly over," Roger soothed. 

The other one was less painful. In an agony of embarrassment she lifted her bottom off the seat to wriggle the dress up around her waist. She was practically naked, with the dress rolled around her middle. 

Hollie looked to the door, discovering they hadn't bothered to change the sign to 'closed'. Anyone could walk in to see her body rudely exposed. It was unlikely to be a fellow teacher, though one of the rougher students might. 

She quickly clamped her eyes shut, not daring to look at what they had done to her nipples. She opened her legs wide, giving the foul breathed guy access. She reminded herself it was no longer hers to keep private. It was her master's cunt, to do with as he pleased.

That thought heated her up, despite a stranger pulling on her lips. 

Hollie stifled a yelp by biting on her lip. The guy had pinched her lip hard. Damn! It was a small piercing ring. He had pierced her outer fold. 

"Ouch!" she yelped again. She didn't need to open her eyes, she could feel him fiddling with the painful lip.

"She's a hot slut you've got here, Roger. Look how wet she is. She's a bitch on heat from what I'm doing to her," Joe laughed.

Hollie wanted to explain to her master why she was wet. It wasn't this nasty man. It was the humiliation and pain, while thinking about her master that made her hot. All this went through her mind, leading her to conclude that as awful as it sounded, she was just that. She was a hot slutty bitch, ready for a good fucking.

"She's a cute young thing, how old?" the guy asked.

"Eighteen," Roger lied. 

"Looks a bit older, but then sluts seem to age quicker. It's all the fucking and abuse from an early age that makes them look older," the guy callously commented.

Hollie cringed with shame. She wanted to shout at him that she wasn't a slut, she was a respectable teacher. From the state she was in, he would only laugh, and think she was a nasty sexed up bitch. An urge to lift her hips up, to thrust her sex at him was only just resisted. Instead she squashed her lips into the chair.

"Ohhh!" she moaned, from the pain in her pussy. 

"Steady on bitch, you'll get the chair all slimy. I don't want her cumin on my chair Roger," Joe warned.

Hollie wondered how much more shameful it could get, before she broke down and bawled her eyes out, like a silly little airhead girl.

With the pain in her nipples and pussy, she hardly noticed them fiddling with her ears. A collar was fitted around her neck, with a snap that startled her. At least there was no pain involved. 

Her master was threading something over her body, but still she kept her eyes shut. She could tell it was him, from the careful, gentle touch. The guy's hands were rough, whereas his were smooth.

"OK! It's all over now, slave girl," Roger stated. "Stand up," he said.

He rolled the dress down to cover the tops of her thighs, just meeting the stocking tops. She pulled the dress up to cover her breasts, with a wince, when it caught a nipple.

"What do you think, slave girl," Roger asked. 

She stood before a full length mirror, eyes wide open, startled from shock. It was all too much to take in at one glance. Despite wanting to look away, she slowly scanned each part of her body, taking in what her master had done to her. 

Through the dress could be seen thin chains, running down her body, across both nipples to between her legs. Her pussy, no that was wrong, it was her master's cunt. Her master's cunt was puffed up from being pierced. At least they were small rings, so it hadn't hurt so much.

She looked at the silver collar, where the chain was attached. 

It was then she noticed the large slutty, 'fuck me' earrings. Or at least that was her opinion of how they looked, on girls that wore large loop earrings. 

The new nipple rings were thicker and larger, showing clearly through the thin dress. Slim silver chains ran from the collar, through the nipple rings. Every time she moved the chains rubbed her engorged, sensitive nipples. They were swollen from having the thicker rings fitted, but at least they would heal, and subside.

Taking a deep breath, she looked lower. As expected her pussy had been given a larger ring too. The two chains met there running through it. They were secured to the little rings piercing her lips. That large thick ring could be obviously seen, together with the chains.

Her master had transformed her into a real slave girl, bound in chains. More ornamental than practical, they were a very potent symbol of her servitude. A shiver of fear, and excitement, ran down her spine from the audacious look. 

"The bitch is a lot less complaining than last time. You've trained her well, Roger," the guy commented. 

'Yes! My master has trained me well. I'm his well trained slave girl,' Hollie thought. A mixture of humiliation and exhilaration kept her staring at the image. The drastic changes to her image were plainly on view, to anyone who saw her. There was no hiding from her lowly position in life now. 

"Stand up straight, slave girl, and lift your head up," Roger commanded.

"Ohhh! Hollie exclaimed. 

On lifting her head she felt a tingle on her bud and a pull to her lips. The damn chains! They pulled on her sex! She examined properly what he had done to her down there. The chains ran through the ring in her bud making it tingle when she moved. The chains were attached to the rings in her lips so pulled on them.

"Oh! Master!" she whimpered.

Joe laughed, a deep belly wobbling sound.

"Come on, we have to get back home now," Roger cajoled her. Taking a firm grip of her arm, he led her out of the store.

In a daze Hollie let him guide her past stores closing up for the night. People were hurrying for a last minute purchase, or hurrying back to their vehicles. If they noticed the slave girl, they stopped to stare. 

Hollie didn't notice, or hear the whistles and rude comments. With every careful step the chains were working her body. Her nipples and bud were being sawn over as the chain moved across them. Her lips were being pulled with every step. She had to walk in a crouch, with head down, or the sensations would be all the more serious. 

She was in a world of her own, adjusting to a new image. From smartly dressed school teacher to slave girl was dramatic. The position of slave had been slowly and relentlessly imposed upon her over the past week. Now this dramatic enforcement of the lowly slave girl state had her reeling. 

"Please, master, take your slave girl home," Hollie pleaded. 

She demurred outside a store, desperate not to be taken in and seen. When he was determined to go in, she tried again.

"Please, master! Take your slave teacher home, and fuck my master's cunt. Your slutty teacher will be an obedient slave girl, please!" she whined. 

He dragged her into a Taiwan restaurant for a takeout. The presence of people around her, waiting to be served, closed in upon her. Muttering was heard, but thankfully not the words or she might have died of shame.

After they had ordered, the young Asian girl leaned forward to whisper. "You look wonderful. I'm a slave girl too! I wish I was brave enough to show everyone that I'm a slave," she quietly said. 

Her eyes were flashing bright with excitement, when she lifted her long, jet black hair. The girl displayed a large pair of loop earrings, as a sharing of a private intimacy. As quickly she dropped her hair in place, to hide them.

As though merely smoothing down her dress, she held it tight against her body for a moment, showing off large rings in her nipples. When she let the dress hang loose they were again hidden. 

Hollie looked closer at the girl to see she too wore a collar, and guessed it wasn't just jewellery, but a slave collar, similar to her own. The name tag read, 'Steph S'. Hollie wondered if the 'S' stood for 'Slut'. They shared an intimate knowing look, for a moment, before the food was handed over.

Roger raced home, having to continuously check his speed. The last thing he wanted was to be stopped for speeding.

"You had better remove the dress, we don't want to spill food on it," Roger suggested.

They were both too excited to eat nevertheless he had her sit at his feet, while he hand fed his slave girl. 

She was quiet and subdued, while thinking about what she had become. It was one thing to play at being his slave girl, here in his home, but she had submitted to him in school. Now he had her in chains, declaring her subservient position to the whole world. 

She didn't have to wonder what it all meant. Her body was on fire with pure animal lust. She trembled with excitement. It was only the heavily emphasised role of slave that kept her in check otherwise she would have lunged at his cock.

"Please master," she humbly spoke. 

"What is it slave girl?" he asked, with a broad grin on his face.

It no longer mattered that she was about to grovel at his feet. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"Please, master, this slutty teacher needs master's hot cunt filled with master's wonderful cock. Please, oh, please fuck your slave girl, master," she pathetically whined.

Roger didn't need a second to contemplate the humble request. He pushed her back onto the floor where she spread her legs wide. She lifted her hips up, giving him easy access to her dripping cunt. 

Hollie moaned out loud, on feeling him penetrating her body, with is rock hard dick. He thrust in hard, pounding her body with long slow strokes. He felt every quiver of her vagina, as she clenched him tight.

"Faster, master. Fuck your bad slut teacher. Make me your slave girl. Fuck your slave girl hard, master," she panted.

Roger lost control now so there was no teasing, he just rode her hard. His teacher was his to fuck whenever, and however he liked. He was in pure heaven, fucking her hard.

With every movement the chains ran over her nipples, tormenting them with pain and pleasure. His cock nudged the large piercing ring in her bud on every inward thrust. She burst out with gasps of delight, on feeling the movement of the piercing ring, which sent sensations of pleasure to a primitive part of her brain. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 07



She felt him spurt young virile sperm deep inside her vagina, and climaxed. Her pussy quivered, gripping him tighter. She hooked her legs around him, and dug both heels into his cheeks. Not wanting to be left empty, she held on tight, as though squeezing every last drop of sperm from his body.

The feeling of being filled by her young lover's sperm, her master, was so gratifying, she cried out a howl of joy. The animal like response was joined by him, when he groaned loudly. He collapsed upon her, sated. 

When they were able to stand, they went hand in hand to bed. The sweat and fluids were ignored; too tired to shower. Roger engulfed her in his arms and fell asleep. 

Hollie laid there a moment in wonder. Sex had never been like this! She looked at her master, the young man who changed her life. He had done such terrible things to her, yet they had turned out to be so inspiring, it left her wanting more. 

Before she could work out how or why it had all happened, she fell asleep in his warm embrace.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 08



Chapter 08

Hollie sinks deeper into slavery

"Please master, can your humble slave girl remove these chains for school?" Hollie pleaded. 

She felt like a young schoolgirl, seeking permission from her father not to wear an irksome uniform. Instead, she was an adult, a teacher needing this young student's permission to dress decently for school. 

As humiliating as the grovelling made her feel, she had to please Roger, while desperate for his help. She had tried to remove the chains, even if it meant being chastised by him. The vigorous struggling had been in vain, for they were locked in place at the collar, and between her legs.

After cooking breakfast she stood before him, waiting upon his answer. Surely he wouldn't send her to school like this? 

Roger examined his beautiful teacher, wearing just a slave collar and chains. She was hot from being so vulnerable, and having to beg a mere student for freedom. He could have her right there, on the floor at his feet, ready to suck his cock. She had sunk so low, that she would take him between those luscious lips, at just a word of command. 

She had gone from thinking of him as a domineering student, to playing at being his slave girl, pandering to his dominating role as master. She submitted to any indignity he cared to put her through, as he had brought to the fore her submissive personality. She was now addicted to humiliation, becoming excited just from the prospect of another shameful situation. 

To keep her in place he thought up ever more embarrassing situations and humiliating punishments, which were working out well.

"Over my knee slave girl," he ordered. There was no need to be fierce or particularly heavy, as she had learnt to automatically obey him.

"Yes, master," Hollie murmured. It was important to keep her master happy, or he might not remove the chains. The fear of that was exciting, but she dare not think about arriving in school wearing them, or she would become too aroused.

"This butt plug needs replacing," Roger told his slave.

"Thank you, master," Hollie intoned. 

She bit her lip, while trying to suppress the moans of pleasure, as he massaged her bottom with grease. The butt plug popped out easily. She wondered how it worked, for it had been impossible to remove when she tried it. After the first abortive attempt she gave in to his order to leave it in. 

She sighed heavily, acknowledging this compliance as further proof of how much under his control she was. It was comforting to know she didn't have to decide anything any more, as her master looked after her. Like now, it could be so pleasurable giving in to him!

The touch of his fingers circling her asshole, teasing it, was wonderful. With his other hand fingers were teasing her pussy and stroking her thighs. He was playing with her lips, just missing her bud, occasionally pressing it delicately. If it was the weekend, she would wish for this to continue all day. This morning they had to get to school.

"Oh!" she yelped, as the butt plug was eased into her bottom. The butt plug often felt larger, though it would do, as her sphincter had tightened around his finger. She relaxed again, as those magical fingers continued to tease so delightfully. 

She felt a hand stroking her thighs, while fingers teased her pussy. This was such a wonderful way to relieve the stresses of teaching, the technique should be taught in school. Hollie imagined giving directions to the guys in her class. Up a bit, that's it, not so rough, maintain the pressure just there. There was no need to guide her master, for he was guided by the soft moans of pleasure.

"Did it hurt, slave girl?" he sympathetically asked.

"Only a little, master," she replied.

"It's a bit bigger than the last one, so be careful for a little while. You'll soon get used to it, as you did with the others," he told her. "Come on, you'll lie there all day if I let you. Get dressed, the choice is yours today. Just a treat, so don't get use to it," he said.

"But master, please, the chains!" she moaned in dismay. The casual remark about the butt plug was soon forgotten, as she realised he wasn't going to remove the chains.

"You'll just have to wear something to hide them, and be careful in class," he warned her.

"Oh! Please master! Your little slave girl might get found out. She'll be helpless without her master. A slave girl in chains, in class, it will be so dangerous master. Anyone could take slave girl over and make her theirs, while she is in chains. Please remove them master," Hollie beseeched him, while on her knees. 

Roger very nearly gave in to her. She was acting so humble and pathetic, really going for the slave girl act. The way she had given in to this submissive side so completely, was surprising. He guessed the fear and thrill of discovery, would keep her hot all day. 

It was unlikely anyone would find out about the slave chains, though he wondered how she would react if they did. What would happen if someone took hold of her collar? Would she slip into the submissive role with a stranger? Would she become so submissive they could lead her away, for her to become their unwilling, yet obedient slave girl?

It was almost worth setting up to see what happened.

"Over my knee slave girl," he ordered sternly. Hearing her whimpers of apology was satisfying. It left him feeling strong and powerful. He could no longer think of the woman as an authority figure, as a teacher, or even an adult. How could he when she so willingly submitted to him as her master.

He slapped her bottom hard. He heard her suppressing the yelps of pain. "You are a naughty little slave girl. What are you?" he asked.

"I'm a naughty little slave girl, master," Hollie answered with sincerity. "Ouch!" she blurted out when he slapped her again. 

"You can yell if you like, but you're master is going to sting your bottom so you remember to behave and obey. Understood?" he demanded.

"Yes master, sorry master," Hollie answered with a humble little voice. She tried to hold back, but couldn't help yelping as her master spanked her bottom.

Several strokes later she stood before her master looking sorry for herself. "Yes, master, thank you for spanking your errant slave girl, master. Your slave girl will obey you master, honest," she faithfully promised. 

Her cheeks stung as a reminder that she must fulfil the promise and obey him. She ran to the bedroom to get dressed. Pulling panties on, a hand wanted to stray between her legs. She was so wet it was imperative the itch was scratched. Knowing her master was waiting she held off from touching her sex. 

There was only one option and that was the business suit, which would hide the chains. It had been worn to make her look older, more mature and suitable as a responsible teacher. Yet here she was wearing slave chains, subjecting herself to a young guy's whims.

There was no time to think about how or why this had happened, besides that, she dare not dwell upon the sordid state she had sunk into. Without a glance in the mirror she ran, as an eager to please slave girl, back to her master.

As usual they stopped just inside the door before leaving. 

"Open your legs, a bit more," he said, while reaching up the skirt, pushing his hand into her panties.

Hollie felt his hand rubbing her crotch, exploring everything, to check she had shaved smoothly enough. Having become used to this routine, it was no longer humiliating for a student to be delving into her panties. He already knew she was smooth down there, for he had fitted the butt plug, so this was just another way to assert his authority over her.

Pulling herself together before a mirror a quizzical look distorted her features, crooking her eyebrows. She sharply tugged at the skirt again.

"Your master had it shortened," Roger smiled. He knew she would have to choose the suit, as it was the only thing that would cover the chains. Now the hem was well above her knee. It was a little short for a teacher, though not flagrantly outside acceptable standards.

"Oh!" Hollie muttered, not knowing what to say. She was already anxious over the chains, and this added to her fears. She would be a bag of nerves all day. 

***

On the drive to school Hollie had plenty to think about. She drove slowly, agonising over the prospect ahead, of sitting in class wearing a slave collar and chains! Looking in the mirror, yet again, to check the collar wasn't too obvious, she pulled at the blouse, trying to hide it completely.

It was a silver band with two chains running from a loop in the front. Apart from the small lock, fixing the chain in place, it looked like a fashionable piece of jewellery. The chains might look as though a pendant hung from the collar, though it was better to try and hide it. At least it didn't have a slave name tag on it.

In the bathroom earlier, she had tried to remove it without success. One end fitted into the other, sealing it tight. Without giving it much thought she concentrated on the chains. A tiny lock between her lips held the piercing loops together, and locked the chain to them. 

At the lights she fidgeted and was reminded of the butt plug. It was only this morning her master told her he had been fitting larger butt plugs into her bottom. She hadn't realised what he had been up to. This had been forgotten on realising the chains weren't coming off. Sitting there dwelling upon the butt plug, she suddenly realised what it meant. 

"Oh! My god!" she exhaled loudly. She was a mature woman, though she had to admit not so worldly wise after all, as this was so very dim-witted. She had let one of her students enlarge her asshole, over the last couple of weeks, with only one possible explanation. 

A car horn sounded and she saw the light had tuned to green. Trying to calm herself she slowly pulled away, with the impatient driver following closely. 

"That's it mister, get up my ass, its big enough now," she laughed. The sound was too close to hysteria for comfort. 

Forcing herself to think about something else, the experience of last night came bounding in. Hollie shivered from remembering that nasty guy pulling upon her nipples, while fitting the large piercing rings. This morning she wore a substantial bra, under a white cotton blouse, to hide them. 

A large pair of white cotton panties helped her feel better too. The uncomfortable feeling of large thick rings through her bud, and lips, could be withstood. The lips were down to a dull ache now. 

The agonising humiliation of that piercing parlour was heating her up, so she had to think of something else. She caught herself getting wet from a pleasant memory. Last night her master had spent some time soothing her tortured body with his lips and tongue. Remembering that was even worse, for both nipples pushed prominently at the blouse, despite the sensible bra.

Thinking of piercings reminded her of the earrings. She pulled her hair back on one side and glanced in the mirror. Damn! With so much else to think about she had forgotten them. The large hoop earrings were too slutty to wear in school. 

She had always thought of them as slut earrings. The kind of girl that wore them in college dressed in short skirts and tight tops. They would be available to the guys, as long as they got what they wanted in return. She certainly wasn't like that! 

She was a slave girl, and her cunt belonged to her master! The thought crashed over her like a wave off the cold Atlantic Ocean. 

She was using nasty words, and thinking of herself in that bad way. She sighed heavily. There was no denying it. She was dressed in slave chains, and wore his ownership collar. She was a slave girl; his slave to do with as he pleased. It meant being under his control and that gave her a warm feeling, knowing he was looking after her.

Hollie drove slowly into the car park, not wanting to shed the safety of her car while others were about. Leaving it close, she quickly made her way to her classroom, not wanting to be late. There were others dashing to class, but they were in too much of a hurry to notice a teacher.

When at last she sat at her desk, without anyone noticing her on the way, she jumped a little. A shiver of fright was felt as though receiving a bite from the butt plug. The chains were silent, but the very thought of them kept her from moving around. Every time she lifted her chin too much, the chains would rub her sensitive bits. 

While the students quietly got on with set-work, she mulled over her masters words from last night. It was after their wild session on the lounge floor. 

At the time she hadn't been in a fit state to take in the significance of what he said. The collar had something to do with it. That was it! He wanted her to agree to be his live-in slave, and in return he would give her a slave name. It would be etched on the collar for ever. More than that, he would own her. 

Sitting at her desk Hollie tried to mark some assignments. She dare not look up at the class, for she was brightly blushing. It was a good thing he wasn't there, or she would have to look at him, and that would give the game away. She would flutter her eyelashes at him, signalling to everyone they had a relationship, though how could anyone guess at its true nature. 

Pressing down on the butt plug, as a painful distraction, also reminded her how completely she had succumbed to him. With such youthful vigour, he had mounted a sexual onslaught of pleasure, leaving no chance to recover her senses; never enough to resist him. This latest assault upon her body gave no respite, even in the classroom. 

Would being a live-in slave be so different from how she was behaving now? Could she agree to being owned by him? Hollie didn't want to think about such a change in their relationship. She pressed her bottom into the hard chair, feeling the thing bite. 

She thought of his words this morning. 'You must wear this larger one all day. Then tomorrow I'll fit a bigger one,' her master had casually informed her. He was preparing her asshole for his use! The disgrace was both shocking and arousing. 

He acted as though he owned her body, whether she agreed or not and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. 

Hearing her breathing blowing noisily through her nostrils, she opened her mouth wide. Trying to calm it down, she went back to thinking what it might mean to be his live-in slave, rather than just playing at it.

***

That girl last night! Hollie had forgotten about her. The Asian girl had been envious, thinking she was Roger's permanent, collared slave girl. Could she take that extra step, accepting that he owned her? 

The embarrassment of showing off her body so blatantly, and revealing those piercings, meant she had been in a daze. 

It had only been a brief conversation, until the next customer walked in. The girl was serving in her father's restaurant at the takeout counter. She had lifted the side of her hair to reveal a pair of hoop earrings, and opened her mouth to display a pierced tongue. 

There was no need for Hollie to reveal anything, for the dress was so thin and tight, her body was on show already. From the rough treatment of her nipples, they were still swollen, enveloped tightly as though vacuum wrapped.

After being pierced with those big thick rings, she had to stand with her legs parted. With the light behind her everyone who walked in could see, in silhouette, her distended lips with those big rings piercing them. The sheath dress was pulled tight over her mons, showing it was clean shaven. The ring in her bud pushed at the thin material. 

The hem of the dress pulled under her cheeks, cupping them. If it rode up any further the butt plug would be revealed. One glance in a full length mirror was enough. Hollie had never felt so fragile and vulnerable in her life. 

Every time a customer walked in Hollie had to press against her master for protection, with the need becoming overwhelming. 

A couple of young guys walked in, immediately eyeing her up, whispering rude remarks about her. The smirks on their faces revealed their lewd thoughts, and shared whispers.

Her master was right, she was a slut, and needed to be controlled for her own good. Why else would she let him dress her like that, if she wasn't a dirty little slut? She needed him to control her, needing to be completely mastered by him.

***

Hollie coughed loudly to cover up the gasp of arousal. A face or two looked up, and quickly looked back at their work, not wanting to draw attention. They were probably doing something other than history, but Hollie was past caring. She was too busy trying to bring herself under control.

Eventually lunch time arrived. As soon as the class emptied he was there. 

"Master!" Hollie exhaled, quietly though forcefully. He smiled pleasantly, and beckoned for her to follow. She knew where and what to expect. She eagerly trotted along, a few paces behind him, trying to be discreet. With every movement the chain pulled upon her naughty bits. 

Her nipples were swelling, beginning to show even through the layers of material. It was imperative she get out of the corridor, and into the first aid room, before someone noticed. 

The nurse came out of the first aid room, halting her by the drinks machine. Her master carried on, walking past the nurse. She fussed in her purse, as though looking for something. 

"Hi! Do you need change?" a student asked. 

Hollie was dumbfounded. It was that girl, the one flirting with her master. Wanting to say something to put the student in her place, she instead flushed red and stammered intelligibly. Still leaning over her bag, the neckline bulged slightly, just enough to reveal the slave collar.

"That's a nice choker, where did you get it?" Angela asked. 

Before she could straighten up, the girl put a finger around it, weighing it. The slight movement ran the chain over still sensitive nipples, dragging it through the ring in her bud, and pulling on her lips. The humiliation of having this girl do such a vile thing to her, a rival for her master's affections, was dreadful.

She couldn't speak, couldn't tell her to let go. Of course it couldn't be revealed what the girl was doing to her body. Again she was in a helpless situation with this creature. The girl had a hold of her slave collar, stimulating her nipples a pussy!

"It's heavy, must be expensive," she said, while moving it up and down.

"Please, let me go," Hollie whispered, with a light wispy voice. She had meant to say, let go of the collar, but in her aroused state it all came out wrong. The vibrations over her bud would have been nice anywhere, other than in a school corridor.

"Eh? What's the matter? You OK?" Angela asked. She pulled on the collar harder. "Sorry, my finger is stuck," she lied. She pulled the teachers head up.

The girl looked her intently in the eye, with a sly smile across her face. 

Damn! She suspects something, but surely she hasn't guessed all of it. If she found out about Roger it would put her in a difficult position, as if this wasn't bad enough. Hollie couldn't look away from her. She heard the few usual lunchtime students making their way to and fro, which heightened her embarrassment.

"Your boyfriend bought you this collar did he?" Angela asked, with a wiry grin distorting her lips.

"Yes!" Hollie whispered. So used to truthfully answering a master, it was likely she might reveal all. The humiliation and fear was stocking her so much she swayed a little. 

Angela brushed the teacher's hair away from one side, to reveal a large hoop, pierced earring. Hollie felt as though she were an animal being led to the slaughter, terrified and helpless, unable to resist. 

"That's interesting. I bet if I looked at the back of this collar I'd find it was sealed, tightly shut," Angela stated.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 08



Surely this young girl didn't know about such things! Her master did, and like her he was only eighteen. Perhaps it was just that she had been naive, with her parents sheltering her too much. 

"Please, let me go," Hollie pleaded. This time she meant it.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see students using the drinks machine. They hardly glanced at the two of them, being in too much of a hurry to care what was going on. Nevertheless it was terrifying to realise any minute a crowd might gather around them, to witness her public humiliation.

"It's a slave collar isn't it, teacher," Angela announced. 

It was amusing watching the agony on the woman's face, as the collar was jigged up and down. She had wondered what the chain was attached to, until moving the collar. The chain was visibly moving through nipple rings. She knew exactly what she was doing, and enjoyed tormenting the teacher, right there in front of everyone. 

"Yes," Hollie hesitantly replied. Her secret was out! Though it would be assumed the boyfriend was someone her own age or older.

It was fun sawing the chain over a teacher's nipples, but she wondered if it went further down. The poor teacher looked pathetic and helpless, as though she were a little rabbit startled in the lights of a car.

"Did he buy you the chain for your nipples?" Angela asked, sounding innocent as though asking about a handbag.

"Yes," Hollie answered, on an exhalation of breath. She had been holding it in, now breathed heavily. The damn girl knew what she was doing to her!

"Does it go down between your legs?" she quietly spoke.

"Yes," Hollie whispered, between deep breaths.

"Who would suspect a teacher was a slave, dressed in slave chains and in school too! You're a slut teacher aren't you?" Angela persisted.

"Yes," Hollie had to agree. She felt dreadful, for she really did feel like a nasty little slut of a girl. This young girl had her cupped in her hand like a delicate butterfly. If the girl closed her fist she would be crushed. Revealing this dire secret would crush her reputation. 

"I can see the chains running over your nipples, but not down there. Tell me what I'm doing to you, slutty teacher," Angela demanded.

"I can't," Hollie demurred, looking down at her blouse. 

"I'll look for myself," Angela crossly said, and pulled at the hem of the skirt.

It was up her thighs before Hollie could react. They were standing close, so no one could see, but eventually a student would notice something was up, and that would attract a crowd. She would be caught with her skirt up, showing off the vulgar piercings in her sex, to a group of students!

"Please, let me tell you, please miss," Hollie beseeched her tormentor. She sighed and furtively glanced around, checking no one had noticed the skirt being pulled up.

"You are running the chain through a piercing ring in my bud," Hollie gave a start, and began panting, as the girl tugged vacuously on the collar.

"Through a loop attached to your bud, and where else," Angela demanded to know.

"My lips miss. The chains are locked to my lips," Hollie finally admitted, to avoid another hurtful tug.

"Is that nice, teacher?" Angela asked, while moving the collar up and down in a long slow motion.

Without thinking she answered. "Yes, miss, thank you miss," Hollie breathed, meaning it was better than having her lips viciously pulled upward.

"You really are a bad little slut, aren't you?" Angela asked.

"Yes, miss, I'm a bad little slut, miss," Hollie couldn't help agreeing. It was so true, it hurt. She was in a school corridor, unable to resist this girl stimulating her naughty bits. She was so aroused she might orgasm before students.

"So tell me," Angela teased.

"You're rubbing my nipples and my bud," she sighed. "You're pulling on my lips. My pussy is so wet, I'm open and ready," Hollie painfully replied.

"Ready for what, slutty slave," Angela persisted. 

It was delightful seeing the hurt look on this teachers face. It would be perfect having a teacher helplessly obedient at her feet. Te teacher was a real slut, being so easily sexed up. She would find all kinds of torments to inflict upon the slutty slave, if she could find a way of getting her home.

"I'm ready for a good hard fucking," Hollie murmured. The words were painful to say, let alone having to say them to this girl. 

"I hope your master looks after you then," Angela commented, with contempt steeling her voice. She let get go of the collar and winked at the red faced teacher. "Our little secret," she said. 

There was a lull in the flow of students, so Angela took the opportunity to humiliate the teacher that bit more. She patted her bottom, and told her, "Off you go slave, run along little slave girl, for a good fucking," Angela giggled.

The uncouth words were like a slap to the face. Hollie obeyed her though, by running off. She felt so small and low it was necessary to quickly escape the torment. The girl was a student, so should be treating her with respect. She had wanted to put the girl down for flirting with her master, yet the girl had taken control of her! 

She scurried off along the corridor to the first aid room, and the safety of her master's arms. 

"Where have you been? Never mind, we don't have much time," Roger scolded her. He removed the butt plug so she could use the restroom. 

Hollie knew what he had been doing to her, but it was a shock to discover how effective the butt plug had been. Touching herself she found her asshole was open. Damn! This young guy has changed her body, made her tight virgin asshole into a gaping hole.

That damn girl had unsettled her. Roger's protection was needed even more after what had just happened. She had to get a grip of herself. Roger was her master, and as his slave girl, she had to obey him. 

When he smiled reassuringly at her, she felt warm and comforted. He fitted the butt plug in, and this time she paid attention, realising it was the same one, as it easily slipped in.

"There's no time for anything else, we need to get back to our classes," he told her.

Hollie looked at him with imploring eyes, letting him know she needed him. 

"What is it slave girl," Roger asked.

"Your slave girl is now master's three holed fuck doll. Will master use a hole, please master," she whined.

"Not now. Later we will have more time to play. Stop that right now, you're being a naughty slut teacher," Roger had to warn her. She was wiggling her bottom at him, trying to seduce him.

"Sorry master," Hollie said, not looking sorry at all. She was so fired up she desperately needed satisfying. 

***

In class she pressed her thighs together, rubbing them, trying to trap the rings in her swollen lips. Occasionally when they were aligned right, she pressed down hard on the seat, massaging the ring in her bud. The pain was delightful. It held her back and at the same time was stimulating. 

A tingle of bad pleasure went through her body. It was different from when her master spanked her. That was a different pain. It brought her under his control, wanting to please him with her obedience. The pain in her bud flattened out her arousal, and was exciting too.

Eventually she calmed down, to a throbbing ache of arousal. Something she had become used to. 

The whispers and giggles indicated they knew something was wrong with her. Perhaps they thought she had a yeast infection. The girls might have guessed and gossiped to the guys. Though she was beginning to believe these youngsters knew more than she did about sex.

She no longer cared what they thought. There were just two days to go before the end of term, when she would be free of school. They were more concerned with organising a party than their teacher having a strange moment. 

***

Every time someone walked past the door she looked over, expecting to see the principal marching in, with an angry expression. She rehearsed an excuse why she wore chains in school. It happened at a hen party. Friends had fitted them while she had too much to drink. She would offer to show him the locks, to explain why they couldn't be removed.

The thought of being innocent and reticent, about showing the principle her locked pussy, was starting her off again. She imagined telling him she was sorry' but had to prove to him the chains were locked on her body. Could he try and remove these tiny locks? She would be so grateful. 

She imagined the principal's hands between her legs, pulling on her lips, while fiddling with the lock. He would pretend to be disinterested, while she became unavoidably hot. She would apologise to him, for becoming so aroused, but explained she couldn't help it. 

"Please, sir, let me cum, please," Hollie whispered.

A couple of students looked at her with an enquiring expression. She shook her head, mouthing the word, 'nothing'. It wasn't 'nothing' though. She was a teacher and a slut, or a slut that happened to be a teacher. She was out of control. She needed her master to control her. He looked after her, leaving her feeling wonderful, satisfied and compliant. 

***

Roger called in at his teacher's apartment, as usual. Since a neighbour asked where she was, meaning to ask who he was, he hadn't been challenged again. He told them he was watering the plants and collecting the mail for Hollie, while she was home visiting family. He indicated she was his girlfriend, though they assumed that from the way he spoke about her.

"Yes! Well done Hollie!" he whooped. The principle had apologised for not speaking to her directly and sending an email. He was offering her a permanent post, with advancement, to assistant head of department. 

"Well, Hollie! You will be an important woman, head of the history department in school, and slave girl in my home. You're my lovely little slave girl," he laughed, while looking around the apartment. 

It was a pity it would have to end after the summer break. It dawned on him he was thinking of keeping her that long. Was there any reason why not? Having a slave girl at his feet all summer, would be a dream come true. 

They had gotten away with it so far, so how much easier would it be once they were out of school. Would she go for it? He would have to work her up into such a state she couldn't refuse. Keeping her that way, submissive and obedient would take some effort, though how much fun would that be?

"Awesome!" Roger punched the air, expressing his enthusiasm for an unexpected summer project. Not a school project, rather it's a teacher project. He would have to keep her hopping from one humiliation to the next, keeping her hot. That way she would be willing to obey him as his slave.

He rushed home, knowing she would be a hot slut from not getting what she needed this afternoon. At lunchtime she had been more aroused than expected, just from wearing those chains in class. 

He walked in knowing she had arrived already and could smell food cooking. She was trying to please him with a meal.

Hollie hadn't told her master, about the girl playing with her nipples and pussy. There hadn't been time. She was going to have to tell him and dreaded it. She was a bad girl, letting someone do such a rude thing to her. Those thoughts about the principal were terrible too. She was out of control and needed him, needed to be controlled by him.

As soon as he walked in, her state of arousal climbed unbearably. She needed him so much. She needed her master to fuck her. It occurred to her he could punish her, by fucking her asshole. She cringed from thinking like that. She had never been so out of control, so heated up that she couldn't hide it.

Hollie sank to her knees before him. "Please master, you're miserable little slave girl, has been naughty," she whined. 

"Have you been playing with yourself in the restroom again?" he asked, with a chuckle toning down his voice. He couldn't be angry with his teacher, when she was so frustrated from thinking about him. 

"A girl was playing with the chains, master. She was stimulating my nipples and pussy. I couldn't stop her, master, sorry master," Hollie blurted out. She wanted to say more. The pose she struck, at his feet, and the overwhelming feeling of being pathetic, dried the words in her mouth.

Roger was stunned. He wanted to ask who it was and what happened, for it sounded dangerous to their game. Instead he needed to calm her, by taking control. He sidestepped the obvious question, playing for time, to get his own thoughts in order.

"Your nipples, your pussy, you are forgetting yourself, slave girl," Roger haughtily stated.

"Oh! Sorry master, your nipples, your, err, cunt master was, err, that girl," she tried again, stammering from anxiety.

"Who was it?" he asked. He sat down in an armchair forcing her to crawl along the floor, to squat at his feet.

"The girl who flirted with master," she said, tightening her mouth, showing disgust that it was her.

It was Angela. He knew she could keep a secret, though she might use it against him. "Did anyone notice this spectacle?" he asked, with heavy tones, indicated displeasure.

"No master your obedient slave doesn't think so," she responded, at last feeling there was a small consolation.

"Well, it could have been worse. Explain to me what she did to my slave girl," he demanded.

Hollie felt so small and insignificant. The way she was posed before him and the way he spoke, she was like a broken winged little bird at his feet. She needed him to put her back together again, to make her feel worthy.

"You've been a bad slut, teacher. You need to be kept under control," he said, and stroked her hair. He cupped her chin in his hand, lifting it to look her into the watery eyes. 

"Well?" he asked.

"Yes, master, your humble slave girl needs her master's control. She needs to obey her master," she replied, with all the heartfelt sincerity that could be brought to the words.

He had her at a vulnerable moment, so decided to strike. Once she capitulated, it would be difficult for her to back out of the agreement. He would keep her panting for sex, by stimulating her in humiliating situations. In between times he would work upon her submissive personality. There would be no chance of escaping, while he kept her as a summertime sex slave.

"Have you thought about your slave collar, and being named?" he asked.

Hollie nodded, unable to answer. Was it such a big step? After all, she was already deeply trapped in the role, so what difference would it make? There were two days of school to get through, so she needed him to protect her reputation. He could talk to that girl, getting her to promise to keep quiet. 

It would only be for a couple of weeks, until his parents returned from their vacation in Europe. What worried her was how it would affect her afterwards. She was too dependent upon him now, so how would she be after a solid two weeks in his apartment? Thinking of recovering, in the peace and quiet of her apartment, she nodded her head again.

"What do you say, tell me," he insisted.

"I want to be you're, err, slave girl. This slave girl wants YOU to be her master," she hesitantly volunteered. 

"You agree to become my slave girl? Not just a game to play here and now. You will be my full time slave girl, to do with as I want. Everything you do will be with my permission," he told her, intoning a graveness of voice, that she might consider the words carefully before answering. 

This time she faltered. She heard what he was saying and the way he was saying it, as though she were expected to make a solemn pledge. Under his stare, and with the influence of a throbbing pussy, she capitulated.

"Yes, master," she whispered. 

"Let me hear you say it," he demanded.

Having obeyed his every command for the past few weeks, what difference could there be? She wanted him, needed him, in so many ways. 

"I want to be your full time slave girl, and will obey you as my master, in all things. Everything your slave does will be with her master's permission," she formally answered.

"I will give you a new name, a slave name. I will own you from then on," he said.

"My master will name me as his slave. I will be owned by you, my master," she replied. Hollie looked up at him with tears sparkling in her eyes. She couldn't explain the happiness that washed over her inner-self. Feeling so much under his control left her feeling warm and content.

"Like any other possession I can use you as I wish. Dispose of you as I wish," he said. She looked curious, with her head to one side, as though this idea hadn't been anticipated. The eyes were still glistening with desire, clearly clouding her judgement. 

"Slave will be an object, owned by her master. Like any of his possessions, Master can dispose of his slave," she said, and looked down at the carpet. What more could she say? It was a hard point to accept, yet she felt it, felt as lowly as a pet bitch, owned by a master. 

The thought of being disposed of, wound around her mind, wrapping her in dread.

Seeing the troubled expression, he decided to distract her from dwelling upon this one unimportant point. It was only meant to rub in her lowly position, and to add to her humiliation. On the spur of the moment he decided to counter the idea that had upset her.

"Slave will be permanently owned by her master, forever she will be his dutiful slave, looked after and cared for," he clearly stated. This cheered her up, as she smiled warmly at him, managing a soppy grin.

Hollie heard him say he wanted her forever. A different form of ceremony flashed through her mind, where she wore a white flowing dress. Her heart fluttered alarmingly. Her master would look after her forever. She needed to hear that, needed him to keep her under control, and most of all she needed his loving care. 

Abandoning her right now would leave her frustrated and lonely. After so much stimulation, after he had opened her eyes to so many exciting thrills, it would be difficult losing him. She needed her master so readily agreed for him to look after her forever.

"This is your name tag, for your slave collar," he announced, with a big smile. 

She looked up at it. This was no simple, cheap dog tag it was a silver pendent, matching the slave collar. Her master's smile was so warm and inviting, the watery eyes threatened to spill over into tears of happiness. Her sight was blurry, so she couldn't read the name. Brushing at her eyes to clear them, she read her new slave name.

"Cindy," her master said, as she too read it out loud.

She took in her name and with it, all that it meant. There was a ditsy Cindy girl in her class. In college she had known a Cindy, and she too was a cute little girly, dressing in young, over feminine dresses. Playing up to the boys in a shamefully flirtatious way, seemed to be a past-time and a habit. 

Was she too expected to act like a dizzy blonde? 

"I'm so proud of my slave girl," Roger smiled. The smile was real. He was happy to have conquered his teacher, having her at his feet, prepared to be his absolute slave. She had agreed to be a mere object owned by him, and to abide by his commands. His teacher was willing to obey whatever he wanted!

She had already proved how low she would sink, abandoning her morals to obey him. Now he would see how far she was willing to go, with the more humble role of owned object.

Her master's genuine warm smile lifted her spirits. He was happy with her and she determined to keep him that way. The idea of being disposed of mustn't even be considered. She would work hard to please him, and obey everything he desired of her.

"When I attach your new name, you will repeat it. You will repeat the solemn promise that you have committed to. Understood, my beautiful slave?" he asked.





Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 08



She felt the catch pushed onto the loop, and heard it snap shut on her collar. It was her slave collar, displaying her new slave name, for all to see.

A drastic change was washing over her, from head to toe. It was as though she were being bathed in warm cleansing water. She felt as though she were being reborn. She now had a master, a man who owned her, to look after her, to control her. She no longer had to think about life and its troubles; she had a wonderful master to decide everything, to make all decisions for her.

"Master! Your slave loves her new name, Cindy!" she excitedly announced. A big smile erupted, lighting her whole face with delight. The happiness spilled over her whole body, lifting her shoulders and straightening her back. It was as though a huge burden had lifted from her shoulders.

"Master, Cindy is your obedient slave girl, ready to abide by your every word. Cindy is nothing but an object owned by master. If she does not please master, she can be disposed of, like any one of the objects he owns," she breathlessly announced.

"Cindy promises to keep her master happy in all things, so he will keep her forever. This Cindy promises with all her heart, master," Hollie said, and looked up at him with a warm, endearing smile. 

Roger swallowed, unable to take his eyes off the attractive woman at his feet. She expected him to say something, but he was unprepared, and too emotional to speak. Eventually he calmed down enough to think.

"Your master is very pleased with his slave," he whispered. "Prepare your reward, my wonderful slave girl," he said, while patting his lap. The anxiety over whether she would accept such a humiliating declaration left him feeling weak. Pushing his teacher this far could have broken the spell he held over her. Losing such a compliant slave girl would have been devastating.

He certainly wasn't prepared to fuck his teacher. Watching her eagerly suck on his cock soon had him ready. He corrected himself, this possession sucking on his cock, was no longer a teacher. This attractive, sensual woman was his live-in slave girl. 

As he grew in her mouth she looked up at him, through hooded eyes, with a contended smile of satisfaction. She was so very happy knowing she was going to get what she wanted. Her master was going to fuck his cunt hard.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 09



(I've taken a readers comment as a bit of a challenge -- about keeping it real in class, and not dressing her in slutty clothes. Hope this works!) 

Last day of school

The class was a little more boisterous than usual, which was understandable as this was the last day of school before the summer break. Hollie hardly had to do much for they busied themselves, over what to wear at the party, thankfully quietly. 

The fear of being exposed by Angela had subsided to a tolerable level. Her master said he would deal with Angela, and so her dark secret was covered up. Angela had discovered Hollie wore a slave collar and chains. The student had pulled upon them, stimulating her nipples and pussy. Just thinking about that young girl toying with her body, in the corridor before students, had her feeling disgraced and aroused. 

The anguish didn't stop with her pulling the chains, over her tender nipples and bud. The young tormentor forced her to admit to being a slave. She was a teacher caught wearing a slave collar and chains in school, so what could she do? She might have been exposed to students in that corridor, and that would have been fatal; for her career at least. 

It was only a couple of days ago, with the episode still vivid in her mind. The fear and humiliation led to a deep arousal, which still affected her. She had admitted to being a slut and worst of all, had admitted to being aroused. She had told the girl she was badly in need of a good fucking. Right there in a school corridor, with students milling around at lunch time.

It was lucky no-one realised what was going on. She was a teacher, and supposed to be a figure of authority, yet this student had put her down then sent her off, patting her bottom as though she were a little girl. The parting words were something about running along to her master, for a good fucking. It was all so demeaning, she felt small and fragile, in need of her master's protection.

At least the class were too busy with their own plans for summer, to take much notice of their teacher having another funny turn. 

She was grateful to have a caring master, someone to look after her. She needed to be controlled by him. That episode proved it more than ever. She had been so aroused by the humiliating situation, she acted like a slut. She was a slut, and needed her master's control, to keep her in check.

If he hadn't been waiting for her, ready to calm her down, what would have happened? She wouldn't have been able to go back to class. Not while so obviously aroused, and in such a vulnerable state. When she considered how passive she had been, a shiver ran through her body. What if that young girl had decided to really take charge of her, instead of just playing with her?

Hollie suddenly stood up from the desk. "I'm, err, I'll be back in a minute," she murmured to the class. 

Hurrying down the corridor, on the way to a restroom, she collided with a group of guys. They were casually chatting, not bothering to rush to the next class, as this was the last day. With her head down, not looking where she was going, she stumbled into them. 

Catching a bag she spun round, and tumbled to the floor, landing on her bottom. It flashed through her mind, that this is how she met her master. Sprawled over a school bag, she quickly pulled her legs together. The expression on their faces revealed what they had seen. 

Everything! She desperately hoped they didn't understand what it was. The thong she wore was clear enough. She could feel it pulling between her cheeks, and between her lips. That would have been enough to have her angry from embarrassment a few weeks ago. Right then she wasn't bothered about her sex being on show to a bunch of adolescent guys. Not much anyway.

Partly from all that she had been through recently, she had been desensitised over showing off her body, but it was something else that worried her. She was wearing a thigh restraint. Perhaps they didn't know what it was. They might think it was a medical brace or something. 

Holding onto the hem for dear life, she rolled over onto hands and knees. They just watched, without offering a hand. After what happened last time, she would have refused it anyway.

On hands and knees she was looking at someone's crotch, only this time in school. Her face was bright red and she was panting. On her way to relieve the intense arousal, this embarrassing situation stoked her up.

The brace made it difficult to get up off the floor. It seemed as though she were fated to remain on her knees before young men. She watched tents forming in their jeans. She tried to speak, and succeeded on a second attempt.

"Can you help me up," she pleaded. It had been meant to be a more authoritative request. The panting only added to the look of distress. They moved as one, pulling the teacher to her feet. They dusted her down, more vigorously than she would like. One of them was audacious enough to stroke her bottom, pretending to brush her down. 

She dare not say anything, not trusting her voice, knowing it would sound weak. Despite being a sensible dress, her nipples were stiff enough to show, emphasising the piercings. Had they seen the ones between her legs? Before they could 'help' further, she scuttled off to the restroom. In a cubicle she brought her breathing under control. She felt sure they hadn't seen her slave name tag. Even if it had fallen out of the blouse, they were too busy eyeing up her nipples to notice a woman's jewellery. It was a good job she hadn't been wearing slave chains, as that would have given them something to grab hold of.

Angela came to mind again for this collision occurred just feet away, from the very spot the girl had humiliated her.

***

Angela had dominated so effectively, Hollie was obeying the girl, as she would her master. The girl could have done anything with her. What disturbed Hollie, was the thought of that nasty girl taking her away from school, to her home. With the slave chains tightened around her body, she would have been left helpless. A leash attached to her slave collar would have kept her secured, in the girl's bedroom. A gag would keep her quiet.

Or maybe the girl had a pet cage to keep her in. An image of her looking out through a wire door, in a pet cage, looking sorry and pitiable, came to mind. She imagined waiting there, all afternoon, for her mistress to return after school. 

She would be thinking of her master, hoping for rescue, sadly aware that he didn't have the slightest idea where she was. Unable to move while tightly bound in chains, would emphasis her helplessness. Being gagged meant she couldn't cry for help.

She would no longer be a willing slave girl, she would be reluctant, forced to submit to a harsh mistress.

Her master had released her submissive personality, and taught her to obey commands. Now this girl was going to reap the benefits of those weeks of preparation. She was a submissive slave girl ready to obey, however reluctant, she would nevertheless have to dutifully serve her mistress. 

Hollie knew from teaching that an adolescent girl could be especially cruel. Hollie would be unable to resist her every whim, however pitiless and vindictive she was. It would be especially painful, as a responsible adult, and a teacher, being reduced to that young girls little pet-girl.

On hands and knees she would be licking the girl's pussy, and submitting to the crudest of demands. How could a young girl resist having a teacher as her slave? She would be spanked for every wrong doing, and treated like a pathetic pet-girl. She would certainly learn what being an owned object really meant. 

Hollie suppressed a moan as she cum fitfully. It wasn't enough, after the deep orgasms Roger gave her. It would have to do till he took care of her. As quickly as she could the teacher made her way to the classroom.

***

Hollie shook the fantasy from her thoughts. She had to stop this! It was happening more and more, where she fantasised about being a slave. Roger had released something terrible and dark from her unconscious. She would need the whole of the summer break to get back to normal.

The feeling of arousal was still there, deep and powerful, generated from the fantasy. Right now she needed her master! He would protect her and guide her. She was just a helpless, hot slut without him. She needed to be mastered and controlled by him. Damn! She was starting to fantasise all over again.

"Cindy?" Roger called. 

She looked up from her desk, looking totally absorbed in the papers scattered there. She blinked as though wondering where her class had gone. At first the name meant nothing to her then she blushed with embarrassment. Her master had used her slave name! She gave him a big smile, and leapt up from the desk, eager to follow her wonderful master.

In turn he smiled at his slave, and blew her a kiss. Dutifully she followed him, a few paces behind, along the corridor. Hollie was all smiles with the pleasure of following his cute ass, Even if she couldn't openly acknowledge their relationship upon him, she felt happy just knowing he was close. 

It was difficult to keep up, as she was forced to take small steps. He bottom wiggled seductively as she tried to keep a few paces behind him. She felt like a naughty little girl trying to keep up with a parent. This time she was careful where not to bump into anyone.

She wore a silk summer dress, with a new set of underwear. As usual her master had chosen everything she wore. That too went toward stripping her of authority, leaving her feeling small and inadequate, like his little girl. 

The chains had been removed from her slave collar, so she was more comfortable in class, and more importantly, in less danger. The slave name tag hung safely below the high neckline. The last thing she wanted was for students to call her Cindy, for it sounded so childish. Yet on his lips her new name was golden. It was probably why her master chose it, to keep her in her place, reminding her she was his little slave girl.

What kept her steps short was the thigh brace. Leather straps gripped her thighs tight. Between them was a short, thin chain, restricting her gait. There was no way she could run away, for she was effectively hobbled. Not that she had any intention of running away from anyone, except that malicious girl, Angela. 

What she hated, more than anything about Angela, was that she had been flirting with her master. He had reassured her that the horrid thing meant nothing to him, but she was so desperate for his protection, she couldn't help being jealous. 

With quick small steps she got to the first-aid room, where her master had already entered. 

"Master!" she whispered. "Your slave is here to serve you," she dutifully announced, with a big beaming smile. 

She had been allowed to go to school without the butt plug today, so there was no need for that routine. Instead they had more time alone, for something else. Hollie lifted the dress up around her waist, wagging her hips from side to side. She looked up at her master through half closed eyes, willing him to take her.

"You are such a naughty little slut, teacher," he told her.

"Yes, master, your slave teacher is hot for you master," Hollie replied, in a purring husky voice. The smell of her sex was strong in the small room. The waywardness of everyone in school, and her lascivious fantasies in class, had her as horny as hell. 

"You're such a slut, slave," Roger smiled.

"My master made me so. You made me into a hot slut, master," Hollie complained, with a pained look creasing her face. It turned to an expression designed for sympathy, for she needed him to take her. Hidden away somewhere was the knowledge that this young man, had indeed turned her into a craven slut, habituated on humiliation and most of all, HIM.

Feeling sympathetic he took his teacher in his arms to caress her face and neck with soft kisses. He hadn't meant this to happen, didn't realise it was possible. It started as an accidental meeting, not knowing she was a teacher. He thought she was a hot looking new student, and was surprised she fell for him in his van. Everything since had been a surprise, though a marvellously wonderful, surprising journey.

He leant back to look at her, with both hands cupping her bottom. There was no need to press her against his body, for she was already crushing her pelvis against his.

"What am I to do with you, Cindy?" he stated.

"Fuck your slave girl, master, please!" Hollie urgently whispered. 

There was no one outside in the corridor, but they would have to be quiet. The nurse, who's room this was had probably left already. The teaching staff and students were preparing to leave early. The students were in boisterous moods, making enough noise to cover any indiscreet love noises. 

It was hard to imagine this dirty slut was a strict teacher in class. The beautiful woman was panting and squirming for him, needing to be fucked, needing him. She needed him to master her. From the first clues he got, he researched on the internet, discovering a little more about her inner secrets. Every day he pushed her deeper into the slave role, using her inner needs to corrupt his teacher.

Each time he pushed her and she reacted as expected, went to improving his techniques. He found she needed to be controlled, which reinforced his role as her master. Having a master decide her fate, released her moral reticence. This in turn proved how much she needed controlling, and so deeper into the pit of degradation she tumbled.

"Lets get that brace off you, I want to split you in two, Cindy," he told her. 

The leather straps were undone, and he dropped them into a bag. He massaged her thighs, attempting to rub away the marks of the tightly fitted straps.

"There, my slave girl can open her legs wide for her master," he laughed.

Roger lifted her up in his strong arms, to perch her on the edge of a table. She reached down with one hand to pull the panty crotch to one side. With the other she kept a firm grip on his shoulder. Manoeuvring carefully, she found what she wanted, and clamped both ankles behind him. 

"Oh! Yes! Thank you master," Hollie whispered, as a breathy sigh. She might have added, 'at last', for she had been hot all morning. Feeling his cock sliding into her body was like receiving a long cold drink, after crossing a burning desert. The burning was between her legs, and wouldn't be extinguished until he hosed her with cum. 

Hollie dug her heels into his hard bum. He was holding her in place, with strong arms and a firm grip on her bottom. He was dictating the pace, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. She began to kick her heels hard into his bottom, spurring him on. 

"Fuck me harder, faster master. I'm your slave slut, fuck your cunt, master," she whispered in his ear. "Fuck your teacher's hot cunt, master," she began to cry out, muffling the plea in his shoulder, just in time. 

He jerked once, then halted, stock still. 

"No! Please master, please, more!" Hollie pleaded. 

Roger had fooled her, but needed to prevent her from yelling out. The last thing he wanted was to be discovered now. "Quiet! Slave! Behave yourself or you get no more," he severely warned her.

Shifting the weight he hefted her up, causing her to gasp on the fall, as her bottom again settled on the table. His cock had touched her deeply, pushing at the far reaches of her vagina. It felt as though he were a bull ramming into her, stretching her, stimulating every nerve ending inside. 

The gasp was cut off short, not because she was conscious of keeping quiet, it was the electric shock that hit her brain. The feeling overpowered the pleasure centres, feeding back to her sex, demanding more. 

"Please, master, your lowly little slave girl needs to be fucked. Please master, fuck your naughty teacher. Punish her with your hard cock," Hollie pleaded, willing to say anything, do anything, for what she so desperately needed.

A few long hard strokes, with his hips, while gripping her bottom with both hands, had her panting rhythmically. He vigorously pumped away at his teacher's sex, as instructed. From the sound of her ragged, hissing breathing, he thought she might have a heart attack. 

Was this a way of keeping her heart pumping? If it was, it would be a good excuse, if the nurse arrived. Hollie arrived sooner than the nurse. His legs were ready to give in. Feeling her inner muscles tighten upon his cock, he began to orgasm too. 

Hollie was in a world of her own. Her master was filling her up with wonderful cum. His youthful fertile sperm was jetting into her, in powerful spurts. So sensitive was her vagina she felt the first splash. It was quenching the fiery passion, leaving a deeply satisfying afterglow. 

Roger leaned her back on the desk, where she flopped like a rag doll. She reached out to him with both arms, the fingers wriggling, indicating she needed to be held. He gave her a smile, tinged with exhaustion, on a sweaty face. Unable to resist his demanding slave he grabbed her. If they had been naked, they would have stuck together. The heat of their bodies bounced back at them off the walls of the small room.

"A shower and change of clothes," Roger announced, while holding up a backpack. His arm trembled slightly. 

They slid into the small emergency shower together. There had been no accident in the laboratory, rather a collision in the first aid room. A heaving collision of two bodies, though no damage. Their coming together was an accident at first, but it was by design now. Who was designing the outcome? Neither was sure enough to claim responsibility. It all seemed to just happen. So far it was a delirious experience.

"Thank you, master. My master is a wonderfully powerful lover. My master filled his cunt with so much of his lovely cum," Hollie purred. 

It occurred to her she was being outrageously rude, but revelled in the liberating feeling. She could do or say anything she liked, for her master would chastise her if she stepped out of line, and bring her to heel. She looked down at the clothes he had brought her. They were expensive as usual.

"No! Get dressed beautiful slave," Roger warned her, when she meant to entwine their naked bodies. She no longer worried about the nurse catching them naked for this was her master's responsibility. Everything was his to decide, for she was a mere possession, waiting to obey, waiting to be used.

She slyly glanced at him, while pulling up the nylons. He was measuring her long legs with his clear hazel eyes. Lifting the dress around her thighs, to fasten the stocking tops to straps was a delight. Not the awkward task, but his reaction. He was fascinated. Her bare thighs, with a glimpse of the ridge of white panties at her crotch, had his full attention. 

"It's easy for you . . . master," she complained, only just remembering to add the magic word, 'master'. She felt liberated and free, no longer needing a master, though wanting him more than ever. It was the last day of term and the madness was nearly over. 

She had a feeling the hold he had over her might evaporate, once school was over. What would she do then? It would leave a great hole in her life, something so very difficult to fill.

"Help me with my hair, please, master," she smiled.

With her hair up, wearing the designer dress, she looked so very beautiful. Her body filled out the figure hugging dress in a delightful suggestion of demure sexuality. In that moment she was transformed from small town teacher, to sophisticated model. 

"The dress is lovely," Hollie said, while smoothing it down her slim hips. She reached up on tiptoe to kiss her lover. It was a vote of appreciation, rather than a continuation of their mad affair. She felt refined and strong, ignoring the fact that this young student had dressed her, according to his wishes.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 09



"I'll leave first," he said. "See you in class," he smiled back at her.

Hollie felt like a salmon swimming up stream, against the flow. Students were streaming down the corridor leaving early. Inevitably some bumped into her and their eyes grew wide with awe. 

They looked at her as though she were something different, no longer just a teacher. She was a beautiful woman, dressed to thrill. It might have been the secret of wearing black stockings with suspenders, the push up bra, and little pair of matching panties. The special feeling of being full of potent cum gave her a deep satisfaction, and a renewal of confidence. A certain power had been recovered, something she hadn't felt in along time. 

Walking into class Hollie felt tall and elegant. The high heels gave her several inches and the silk underwear powered a feminine strength. The students fell silent, adding to the feeling of authority. It was expected everyone would have gone by now, leaving her alone with Roger. 

It would have been difficult to resist him, but she was determined to try. The prospect of being enslaved for the next two weeks was worrying. Kept in such a state all day long would leave her too vulnerable to irresponsible adolescent whims. She was an adult and must take back responsibility for her actions.

"You can come to the party with me, Hollie," Jack laughed. The others chuckled with him. The guys were eyeing her up, with obvious expressions on their faces, which boosted her confidence.

She looked at Jack with a frown on her face, ready to rebuke him for being so familiar. 

"It's OK, Hollie it's a tradition of the history class. On the last afternoon of school, we swap roles. Like Saturnalia in ancient Rome," Roger explained. He was lying easily. Everyone there was a part of the game. 

Hollie gave him a guarded look, uncertain of his intentions. Saturnalia was the key word, reminding her of the studied in college. They had laughed over the Roman slave relationship, and he was using it against her.

She quickly looked around the room. There were plenty of empty seats where most had bunked off early. Those left were looking at her, with a smile on their faces. Not always so prettily. Some were smirks, from the prospect of making their teacher squirm.  

One or two of them had felt the lash of her tongue when first making her mark on the class, as a new teacher having to exercise her authority. 

Having Roger challenge her, the young guy that changed her whole life, brought back a tangle of feelings. She tingled all over. She knew what he meant when mentioning Saturnalia. Slave became master and the master served. Was she now, by history class tradition, to be a slave in her own classroom? 

Hollie looked back at Roger, seeking an instruction with her eyes. Unsure of what to do, how to react, she needed him now. She needed a master to control her and direct her. She sighed deeply, on realising how illusory her freedom had been. She really had felt free of him, believing she could start the summer break without him, but it was not to be.

"I'm a history teacher, so I respect tradition," Hollie spoke up, trying to regain some control, to regain that feeling of authority. "I guess we can, err, carry on, if you don't get out of hand. So, if I'm Hollie, then you must be, err, sir," she hesitantly stated.

"That's right, and I'm Miss Roberta," one of the girls, butted in, with a look of glee.

Hollie felt the room closing in on her. Her master had set her up for this, that's why he left the first aid room before her. This small group had stayed behind, just for this, so it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing. She wondered what humiliating situation he had planned, and felt the familiar rush of excitement.

"Unless you would rather we followed Saturnalia. That would mean you call me master," Roger suggested.

Hollie gulped. This was a nightmare coming true. Their secret relationship was being displayed in public, in school. Admittedly in an underhanded way, but he knew what it would do to her. She stood quietly, her legs feeling weak. Worst of all, she was unable to speak, unable to counter his devious plans.

"That's for us to decide," Billy pointed out. 

"Right! I like the idea of teacher, err, Hollie calling me Master," Jack added.

"Not sure I wanna be called Mistress," Brenda piped up. She was overruled as everyone agreed they were celebrating Saturnalia, whether they knew its meaning or not. Calling their Teacher slave was good enough. 

"Slave!" Roger spoke up, silencing the others. "Explain the festival of Saturnalia to your betters," Roger imperiously demanded.

"During the Roman festival, my duty is to serve my masters, and mistresses, with wine and delicacies, as a dutiful, err, slave," Hollie demurely spoke. Slipping into her usual role, Hollie looked down at the floor, looking humble despite the elegant clothes.

"Bring it on!" Jack beamed. 

"We don't have anything for our slave to serve," Brenda pointed out.

"Go through your bags everyone, see what you have," Roger told them. 

"Collect the delicacies and wine slave," Roger ordered.

Each of them had something to contribute, and Hollie scurried from one to another, picking up chocolate bars and cans of drink. Roger of course had come prepared, stacking several candy bars, and a bottle of coke, in her arms. He surreptitiously pinched her nipples, while helping to balance them. 

"Thank you master," Hollie automatically replied, while blushing profusely. 

At her desk she cut up the bars, placing the pieces on paper plates, to share them out. He defiantly planned this well. It meant she was in for a rough ride. The thought of a 'rough ride', was heating her up. 

She scurried over to her master, Roger, with a plate and a cup, he stopped her. "You've spilt something on your dress, slave," he pointed out.

"Is it expensive?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"It is, master," she replied, while trying to mop it up with a tissue, only making it worse.

"Roberta, do you have something for Miss, I mean, slave to wear? Slave, get changed and we'll see to your dress, before it stains," Roger ordered.

Hollie looked at him, then at the clothes offered, and back to her master. He made it all sound so reasonable. The others wanted to believe they had the new teacher fooled, so she would go along with the game. It was a dangerous line he was pushing her toward, she wondered if she dare play along. She relented, for it was so difficult to resist him. 

Again she wondered if it was him, or the feelings within that spurred her on.

"Come on slave, we'll help you," Brenda and Roberta offered. "No peeking guys," Brenda warned. At the back of the classroom they lifted her arms and slipped the dress over her head. 

"It would be a pity to spoil such an expensive dress," Roberta said. "I wish I could get into something so slinky," she mused. 

"Wow, great underwear! Must be expensive too," Roberta commented.

"I couldn't be doing with all those straps and catches," Brenda added.

"What's this? Teacher. I mean slave, has pierced nipples!" Brenda giggled, through a hand to her mouth. 

Roberta couldn't help pulling on one of the loops, and Hollie gasped. 

"Why you wearing a 'Cindy' tag?" Brenda asked. 

"It's, err, my sisters necklace," Hollie lied. She pressed her thighs together as Roberta looked her over, wondering if there were any more surprises. The girls had whispered, thankfully keeping female secrets between them. 

They were shielding her from the guys, but she felt so vulnerable in underwear, in class. She hurriedly pulled on the skirt and top from an urgent need to cover her body, not caring what it was. A black pleated skirt matched the black stockings, though no longer in a sophisticated fashion. 

The white blouse was tight, though fortunately her breasts were small. Finding the top buttons missing added to her misery, as the push up bra revealed too much. The swell of her beasts on show, was just another indignity. It confirmed he had arranged all this. 

How in hell had her master got her into such a dangerous position, and why?

While she straightened the borrowed clothes, the girls led her back to the abandoned pile of goodies. With every step she became more aware of how little she wore, leaving her feeling exposed. The embarrassment worked on her, heating her up, and bringing her to heel. Hollie was once again a deeply submissive slave girl.

"Get on with it, Slave," Roger admonished her.

Hollie was becoming more aroused every time he called her a slave, in her classroom, before her students. She replied with the usual, 'yes master' unable to avoid the automatic response. She desperately wanted them to believe this was just a one-off game, so bowed to each with the same answer.

The guys were keenly watching her every movement, as she scurried between the desks. The little skirt fluttered up to reveal stocking tops, with every movement. They were tantalised by a glimpse of something else, a garter belt. 

She stumbled on the high heels, falling forward onto Billy's desk, almost spilling her breasts in his face. The young guy's eyes opened wide in astonishment, on seeing his teacher's tits, in close up, bulging out of the lace bra. 

"Cindy?" he said, with a quizzical look on his face. 

Damn! This guy had seen her slave name. He was too busy looking at her breasts to think about it too much. The guys behind her would have had a good look up her skirt, so their attention too was taken care of.

Dressed like that, they would consider her a slut and treat her with disdain; after taking a good look, of course. As she was their teacher, the guys looked at her in awe. They said little, intently taking in the sight of their scantily clad teacher.

How did he get her into this horrendous situation? More importantly, how was he going to keep it quiet? It wouldn't have been too bad if she were wearing the dress, as it covered her decently.

Roger had selected these few as he knew them and knew they could keep their mouths shut. For their own reasons they were willing to play along, messing with the new teacher. They wanted something over her for next term, when a final good mark would count the most.

"Now your finished slave, it's time for a quiz," Roger announced, accompanied by a buzz of interest from his audience. "Let's see what our slave knows about history. Wrong answers mean you haven't done your homework, so slave receives a punishment," Roger explained.

Everyone laughed except Hollie. She stood in front of the class in a low top and miniskirt, feeling tense. She felt their stares, knowing the guys wanted to see up the short skirt, keen to see what kept up the stockings. She knew Roberta and Brenda were amused, and Anne had scowl of disapproval on her face.

She tried to stand up straight, managing to keep both arms to the sides, but couldn't hold her head up, for she couldn't face them. She felt like a pathetic little slave girl, and the humiliation was arousing her passion. Hollie hoped to wake up, to find it was a cruel nightmare.

"Slave, what year did slavery become abolished?" Roger asked.

Just the mention of slavery was heating her up. Was that his attention? She was already submitting, while he showed off his power over her. What more did he want?

"Eighteen-sixty-five, master," Hollie confidently announced. She had been horrified to hear her master say she would be punished, before her students. If he attempted to spank her here, she would run. Thankfully, asking simple questions would avoid that horrendous embarrassment.

"Wrong! Slave should have asked which nation her master meant. Does anyone know the correct answer?"

Hollie had a look of shock on her face. She looked to her master with a pathetic expression trying to gain his sympathy. She wouldn't let him spank her in class, she dare not.

"Which country?" Billy asked. He had been quiet until now, but the sight of his teacher's breasts, nearly popping out in his face, fired him up. 

"England," Roger said.

"Seventeen-seventy-two," Billy answered. 

"That is the correct answer, you have won the right to punish the slave," Roger announced. "Go and receive your punishment, slave," Roger added.

Hollie stood still, struck dumb, unable to comprehend her master was being so cruel. This was far too dangerous a game to be playing with her students. A quick glance at the clock showed everyone in school must have left for the summer break. Even if these youngsters could be trusted, a rumour was sure to escape and tarnish her reputation.

Somehow she had obeyed her master, by walking up to Billy. The young guy stood there eyeing her up. She looked across at her Master, wondering what to expect. Surely he wasn't going to let one of her students spank her. That would be way over the top.

Billy leaned forward and kissed her lips. Her mouth was closed, yet the tip of his tongue penetrated her. To the others it looked as though he had got away with a deep kiss. She held him away, not wanting to be hugged by a student.

The others made encouraging sounds, oh's and ah's, as though they were a soap opera audience. The sounds of support, and ribald remarks, were kept low as agreed, to avoid discovery.

Hollie trotted off to the front of the class, looking suitably chastened. She was red from forehead to nipples. Everyone could tell she was highly embarrassed, and wondered if she would carry on. They had their fun with the new teacher, so if it came to a sudden halt they would be satisfied.

The genial mood changed to puzzlement when Roger asked another trick question. This time she had to put her hand up, though not very eager to answer. When she gave the inevitable wrong answer, Jack's hand shot up, very eager to get it right. He didn't bother to conceal he was reading it off the crib sheet, given to him by Roger.

Hollie walked to his desk, trying to put off the awful moment. It seemed to take an age. With every step her heart raced staccato beats, out of tune with her stilettos. The thump drummed in her ears. Surely her master should protect her from this torment! The arousal was hard to contain, she needed to be under his control, but not like this.

This young guy, her student, was giving her sexual favours to his friends. Was this a punishment for something, she had done or not done. Hollie wanted to race over to him and beg at his feet for forgiveness, to stop this horrendous humiliation.

No sooner had she arrived before him, Jack pounced. His arms wound around her waist and his mouth engulfed hers. His wet kisses weren't in the slightest agreeable. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, feeling slimy. This ill-use was not sexy it was just humiliating. She tried to push him away, shoving harder when she felt his hand pressing upon the back of the tiny skirt.

Jack let her go. Her knees buckled, looking as though she were curtsying. 

"Is this the tradition? Should your slave be doing this?" Hollie quietly asked Roger. Her voice carried across the classroom, sounding angry. 

Every one looked at him, wondering how he would react to their teachers protest. They knew they had gone too far, and worried what might happen. Jack's smirk vanished. He shrank back behind his desk.

"Thank your master, for your punishment, Slave," Roger said, with the heavy tones of command.

"Thank you master, for punishing me," Hollie quietly said, to Jack. Pointedly not answering Roger she hoped he got the message, and wouldn't carry on with the objectionable game. She wanted the horrid game to stop, but couldn't bring herself under control, so it was all up to her master.

When their teacher walked back to the front of the class, a collective sigh of relief was released. She knew she was helpless, and looked cowed once more. They didn't want to understand why she played along, for they were just pleased to win something over a teacher.

It was be easier for Andrew to take advantage of his teacher, for she was so heated up. She opened her mouth, letting him enter her. Their mouths pressed tight, as though trying to swallow each other. He was a good kisser, Hollie had to admit, but she would rather he didn't. His kisses weren't heating her up, it was the humiliation of it.

They made out before everyone, like adolescent lovers in the back of a car. His hands cupped her bottom, pulling her against him. Hollie was so hot she only just refrained from pushing back against him, from a need to squirm against the hardness in his jeans. 

She could feel the animal lust beginning to engulf her. Knowing what that meant, the sane part of her mind cried out in fear. Andrew felt rather than heard her muffled plea. He leant back, still holding on to her ass, with a big grin on his face. He felt victorious. He had tongued his teacher! He still had her ass in his hands!

Their faces were inches apart when she spoke, unprompted. "Thank you master, for punishing me," his teacher whispered. Every word was separated by panted breaths. She not only looked sexy, she sounded sexed up. Even the guys could see she was being carried along on a wave of arousal.

Not wanting to cum in his jeans, he suddenly let go. Her legs wobbled as she made her way back to the front of the class. It looked as though she was provocatively wiggling her bottom. The hem of the little skirt swished from side to side, giving them a teasing sight of stocking tops.

It was Gavin's turn, and he was the last guy. He was so pleased the others had softened her up. He planned on accidently pushing his hand up her skirt. There wasn't much of it anyway, so it would be easy to miss handle. Roger had been exactly right. 

She was new in town, and didn't have a boyfriend, so se was ready for it. Roger said she was a meek person behind the teacher facade and could be tricked into obeying them, if they played it right. He wouldn't tell them how he knew all this, but the proposal looked too good not to try. Gavin was sceptical at first, but after watching the others, he was ready to hit on their teacher.

There was a rumble of encouraging noises, with everyone intensely watching her walk up to Gavin. He wasted no time, immediately winding his arms around her waist and grabbed her ass, pulling his teacher against his hard dick. He deeply kissed her, until she responded, by entwining her tongue around his. 

His hand went up to her chin to push her mouth from his, making it look as though she were hungry for him. Hollie was passed caring what anyone thought. He leaned in for another round. This time he didn't pull her tight up against him. His arm was between them, with his hand pressing low on her belly. 

She didn't stop him, didn't even notice, as his hand slipped further down, between her legs. He felt the soft flesh of her thighs, and caught a finger in a strap. Once free his hand pushed upward. Finding her wet crotch, he pushed it aside and entered. 

He was fingering his teacher! He was tonguing his teacher and fingering her wet pussy! He kept snagging a suspender strap with his thumb, and wondered why.

Hollie trembled all over. This student had entered her body easily, just helping him-self to her mouth and vagina. There had been no attempt at foreplay, or even a hello. He just took her body. She was completely helpless, so very vulnerable. Had her master set this up to prove what a wet slut she was? It proved how dependent she was and how much she needed him to master her.

She felt the lad exploring her crotch with his fingers. The whole ordeal was degrading, now he was pulling on her lips. Here in her class it was all the more humiliating. 

"She's got pierced loops in her lips! There's another one between them, in her hole!" Gavin announced to the class. He had eventually worked it out. "She's a right slut," Gavin laughed, still playing with her lips, dipping in and out of her vagina with two fingers. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 09



He was enjoying himself, having never been this far before. He had played with a girl a little, but his teacher just stood there, letting him do whatever he liked.

It surprised everyone when Anne shouted. They didn't hear what she said. She was suddenly there, blocking the view. She grabbed hold of their teacher's hair, pulling her backward, with Hollie staggering on the high heels. They came off, clattering under the desks. 

There was a gleam in every guy's eyes, except Roger. They were wondering if this was going to be a girl on girl exhibition, a cat fight.

Even Roger was taken aback. He was intrigued to see what she intended. The girls worked it out, and were worried what she might do. If someone went too far, the teacher would snap out the dream like state. They didn't think that a teacher would be more afraid for her job, than they were of an angry teacher.

More than one of them wondered if Roger had hypnotised her, why else would she have submitted to such a trick. They could see she was worked up, but surely she wasn't so much out of control that she couldn't resist. Was that how a mature woman behaved, after being used to having sex often?

What did it matter? They were having fun and the summer break would mean all this was forgotten. 

All eyes were on Anne.

Hollie knew she was so worked up, she might not be able to refuse this girls kiss. It reminded her of the game she played, before a group of arrogant young guys in college. Her roommate had kissed her, only pretending to share tongues. She always wondered if it had meant more than just a show to shock the guys.

Her mouth was loose, ready for yet another uninvited invasion. She knew she would respond, she was that keenly aroused. Would she wrap her arms around this girl and snog her back? Surely not in her classroom, in front of everyone! She tried to say 'no', only a pathetic squeak managed to flutter from her mouth.

Anne pulled on her hair and bent her over the desk. A chair crashed to the floor as Andrew craned forward for a better view. The girls went in the opposite direction, trying to distance themselves, pulling back. They knew Anne had a thing for Gavin, and was jealous. Now they knew what she was about to do abut it.

A slap sounded like a crack of thunder in the silent room. Everyone was still, as though caught in a black and white photo. There were stark expressions on their faces, of shock or intense pleasure. Depending whether they were male or female. 

The guys could at last see their teacher's round, panty class ass. It was framed by a garter belt and stockings, rounding its shape off. 

Anne had stung her hand, but didn't care, as one after another sharp, stinging slaps, thundered over their teacher's up turned bottom. If they had been at all aware of anything other than their own thoughts of glee, they would have wondered why Hollie wasn't complaining. 

She was yelping, a very satisfying sound for Anne. "You won't kiss Gavin again, he's mine. You are a slut, you know that, teacher?" Anne stated, rather than asking a question. She scrunched the white panties, pulling them between the teacher's cheeks.

"Yes, mistress, your slave is a wanton slut, mistress," Hollie blurted out, with tears rolling down her other cheeks. Another hard slap sounded louder.

"Your slave needs controlling, mistress," Hollie whimpered. Her master had never beaten her so hard. Perhaps that is what she needed, to bring her bad ways under control. "Ouch! Thank you mistress for punishing me," Hollie added, after another whack.

The panties were pulled tight over her puffy lips, and were soaking wet. The aroma of her sex wafted up after every slap. 

Standing before her mistress, Hollie spoke up as she had learnt to do, reacting on automatic, as she had been throughout the ordeal. "Thank you, mistress, for spanking your slave girl. Your slave girl deserved a thorough spanking, for being such a bad little slave girl, mistress," Hollie humbly intoned.

He voice reflected how pathetic and humiliated she was.

The group of students was stunned. They forgot about the red, bared bottom. 

"That's enough, its over," Roger announced. "Everyone better go," he added. He sounded rattled, obviously not intending for the game to go this far. Everyone got the message. They looked worried over the consequences of spanking their teacher.

Roberta and Brenda slipped out of the classroom, murmuring to each other. The guys didn't say anything, they were still thinking about their teacher's spanked ass. Even outside the classroom they kept quiet, wondering if this might blow up in their faces. 

Anne was the last of the students to leave, besides Roger. 

"Where are you going?" Roger asked, in surprise. Anne had a hold of Hollies' arm, leading her toward the door.

"Home!" Anne retorted. 

"You can't take the teacher home!" Roger protested.

"The slut you mean. She admitted it. Look at the way she behaved. The slut is out of control, she said so herself. I'll soon sort her out," Anne growled at him.

"What are you going to do with her?" Roger asked, playing for time, while trying to beat her to the door.

"You know I have to look after everyone, with mom gone. I could do with a slave, to help out with the chores. As for her being so damn horny, well, I have three brothers who can take care of her. She can share a room with them. It'll show this 'designer dressed' slut how real people live," Anne angrily said.

"You'll get into trouble. You don't want social workers coming round, poking their noses into your home," Roger lamely pointed out. He was standing between her and the door. He knew Anne and how stubborn she could be. If she decided to carry out the threat nothing would stop her.

"Last time one 'visited', she had her hand in my knickers. She won't be coming round again, I can tell you for nothing. Now get out of my way, Roger. You're a nice guy, but my brothers aren't," Anne warned him.

Hollie heard what the girl was saying, as though it were at a distance. She was so ashamed of being spanked before her students, she withdrew into a shell. This girl was going to give her to her brothers! 

They were a poor family, living on the wrong side of the tracks. The mother had given up on them, and run off, escaping the constant drudgery of bringing up four children. Hollie imagined being treated like a slave in their house, having to do the domestic chores, being spanked if she messed up. 

The humiliation of having three randy guys pawing her all the time, would keep her in a constant state of arousal. This girl's brothers could take her whenever they felt like it. Her bottom was still open, so they could use her like a three-hole sex doll. She would be dragged away from the chores by one after another of them, constantly being fucked during the summer break.

Hollie would be a real slave. She would be a poor, down trodden slave girl, being fucked by her masters. They couldn't afford to buy anything for her to wear, so she would have to wear this skimpy outfit. Washing it every night would leave her naked in the brother's bedroom. 

They would find it so convenient having a sex slave they would keep her, not letting her go after the summer break.

Her breathing became rapid, she was near an orgasm. "Master, please, take me home," Hollie pleaded.

Anne looked at the two of them and recognised a bond, maybe something stronger than love. "So that's how it is! We must have been stupid to think a teacher would behave like that," Anne said. 

"Wishful thinking, we believe what we want to believe," Roger smiled. He pulled Hollie to him as Anne let go of her arm.

"You're a fool Roger. Whatever it is you have over her, you've become responsible for her. You must look after her. You owe her that much, slave or not," Anne told him, and left.

"Well slave girl, that didn't go as expected, interesting though. Home it is, Cindy," Roger told his slave.

"Thank you master, your slave needs a good fucking, master," Hollie informed him, while heavily leaning on his arm. He wrapped his arm around her and led her away to the car park. She didn't think about anyone seeing her like this. Anyway, they would probably think she was a student.

Hollie was still imagining Anne's three brothers, and the terrible ordeal she would have been put through. Her hand drifted between her legs, pressing hard on her button, while Roger drove her home. She no longer thought of home as being her apartment, as her view of the world revolved around her master.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 10



"Stop playing with yourself, Cindy. You're such a slut, you can't leave it alone," Roger complained.

"Sorry master," Hollie sheepishly replied. 

She looked around realising they hadn't arrived at his apartment, it was a gas station. The naughty fantasy had been so intense she hadn't noticed where they were going. She had better get a hold of herself, yet it was difficult after being so deeply aroused in class. She was still buzzing, desperately needing his cock to pacify the constant ache.

"OK! Fill her up. I guess you want filling up too, but it's the van's turn," he laughed.

Hollie pouted her lips at him, showing a lack of amusement. "Oh! Master, I'm not dressed," she began, then realised it wouldn't make any difference. There was nothing else to wear, except a pair of flat shoes. He intended her to be embarrassed, and after the dire humiliation in class this was nothing.

She was used to him dressing her like a slut. This time he used her students to dress her, which had been terribly humiliating. Hollie knew she had lost her authority and dignity as an adult, as he now controlled everything in her life. It seemed perfectly natural when this young man told her not to play with herself, despite being a mature woman and his teacher. 

Thinking of needing his cock would have been outrageous a few weeks ago. Yet she needed it more and more, as she sank further into a condition of disgrace. 

She slowly clambered out of the van. Through the thin flats, she felt the rough tarmac underfoot. She was grateful to wear them as the high heels had fallen off somewhere in her classroom. What she didn't like was the feeling of being so small, though worst of all was the skimpy top and short skirt.

Walking in to pay was an ordeal, as she had to pass a group of young Hispanic lads. They made comments about her being a slut and a whore, under their breaths, which she pretended not to hear. In the past they wouldn't have dared, though the way she was dressed would of course invite lewd remarks.

She couldn't even hold her head up as she was thinking of herself as a bad slave girl. On the walk to the counter, the guy was eyeing her up and down with a knowing look. She lifted her head and straightened her back. She was determined to walk out of there with some dignity. 

"I'm a proud, attractive slave-girl, looked after by a wonderful master," she whispered to herself. The sensible teachers clothing had been stripped away, together with all her respect and authority. She could at least take some pride in being a dutiful and accomplished slave.

"Hi Cindy, how much?" the guy asked. He leaned his elbows on the counter taking a close look at her cleavage. 

Hollie wondered if this was another humiliating test organised by her master, then realised he was looking at the tag on her slave collar, as well as starring down her cleavage. She hated that name, or at least its connotations, especially when dressed like a stupid slut. 

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" he asked. 

"No!" she responded, feeling cross at the obvious line. She was twenty-six and usually dressed her age, or tried to look older in school. This young guy wouldn't have dared to look and speak to her like that, if she had been dressed sensibly as a teacher. He was probably a dropout, doomed to a life of dead-end jobs. 

She looked him full in the face, daring him to look down her cleavage, while holding his stare so he couldn't. Being short with a baby-smooth complexion, everyone assumed she was around eighteen. Dressed like a little slut, empowered men with an inflated sense of power over her, as though they had a right to hit on her. Even this big stupid guy thought he had a chance.

"Ten!" she said, with an imperious tone of voice. It was the voice her students dreaded, when they had been making too much noise. She thrust a twenty in his face, with a grimace, almost growling with anger.

"What? Oh, yea," he said, looking flustered. He hadn't been prepared for the almost physical assault. The light tinkle of sound from setting the pump and tilling the cash sounded like a sixties tune. 

He turned to her, having had time to recover during the often repeated routine. "Was ten the answer to my question?" he asked, giving her a knowing look.

It was her turn to be confused. She looked at him, easier to read his expression now his face was shaded from the sun. The original cheeky grin creased his face, tinged with a look of smarmy interest. It was the way he held his chin up, that made it a question.

"What?" she asked impatiently, giving him a well practised teacher's glare. 

"How much . . . do you charge, Cindy?" he asked. The grin turned to a lusty expression, though underlying it was a boyish hesitancy. He wasn't the man of the world he thought he was.

His words faded into the background noise, melding with the gable of young guys hanging around outside. She recognised him. He was one of her students. Oh shit! Her face dropped the superior seriousness, showing shame and alarm. He hadn't recognised her dressed like a slut, and the name tag put him off too. 

"It's OK Cindy! No need to be frightened, I won't tell anyone. I could tell as soon as you walked in," he smirked, looking well satisfied with his street cred. 

She willed her body to turn and run. "I, err, just give me ten," Hollie stammered. She held out a shaking hand for the change. She needed to flee, only to be stuck with the automatic routine of waiting for change. She had to get out of there as quickly as possible, before he recognised her. 

He walked round the counter with a ten in his hand. There was no cash-cage to unlock, to keep him safely away from her. She just stood there with her hand out for the note. If she ran he would think it unusual, drawing attention to herself, and he might try harder to think where he had seen her.

She was drawing enough attention to herself dressed like a slut. Hollie nearly laughed out loud, stifling the hysterical sound with a fist stuffed in her mouth. What did he say? His words tumbled through her head not making sense. She latched upon a phrase, 'as soon as you walked in'. 

He had recognised her! He said he would keep her secret! But at what cost, men always wanted something, and she looked so damnably available. From her hoop earrings down to her stocking toes, she was dressed as an available slut.

He teased her with the note, pulling it back when she reached for it.

"What do I get for this?" he smiled, only it was an unpleasant mixture of lust and meanness. He was too inexperienced to be cool about it. Maybe street walkers worked this area and called in. Damn! He must think she had a part time job as a hooker! She was in enough trouble as it was, without this.

"You've got fresh smooth skin, not like the others. Not on drugs then?" he asked.

Hollie shook her head. Her worst fears had been confirmed. It was a terrible thing having to explain to someone, and far worse having to explain to one of her students, that she wasn't a prostitute. The words wouldn't form in her mouth, as they died in her throat, blocking it with their jagged harsh edges. Instead, she denied she was on drugs, and through silence confirmed she was a hooker. 

"I want your ass for a ten," he demanded, gaining courage when she was too frightened to answer. "I've seen you somewhere before, though you must be a new girl working around here," he thought out loud. 

He didn't recognise her! He hadn't looked at her properly, not expecting to see his teacher walking in dressed like a prostitute. They obviously shopped in here, perhaps for condoms. 

She turned away from him, to hide her face, and to indicate the conversation was over. It was time to leave, with the change or not, it didn't matter. If the damn guy recognised her, still assuming she was a prostitute, she would die of shame. 

She was hemmed in by racks of candy and stands of chips, all seeming to conspire to prevent her escape. She felt trapped and lightheaded. She put a hand out to steady her-self on a stack of cardboard boxes. They were only half emptied by the lazy guy. They gave way a little, and she slowly went with them, as though they were deflating. 

She was bent over, with the short skirt up, showing off her new silk underwear. It was all on show, stocking tops, suspender straps, and the white panties, rolled between her cheeks. In the van she had wallowed in humiliation, of feeling the sting of her spanked bottom on the seat. She still hadn't pulled the crotch out from between her cheeks.

If he pulled the crotch aside he would find her gaping asshole. It would irrevocably confirm her status as a whore. He lent over her, pushing the crisp green paper into her cleavage. It slid into her breasts, feeling as though he were stabbing her. 

If he took her now, her dignity would crumble to dust. She would be nothing but a dirty whore. Willing to let a young guy fuck her ass for next to nothing, she would lose every shred of self-worth.

She tried to push up off the crumbling boxes, desperate to escape. Hollie pushed with arms and legs and the legs won, as her hands sank into the collapsing box. 

She felt her bottom rise to meet his jeans. He would surely take that as an offer! She was signalling to him to take her whores asshole. She tried to turn over only his legs were between hers. She was panicking. She was his teacher damn it! He couldn't just help himself to her virgin ass!

It belonged to her master. He had prepared it, so deserved to cum up her bottom. It was her masters, asshole. 

He grabbed the back of the blouses collar, pulling her up, almost off the floor. 

"Not here, you dirty slut!" he sneered. The Hispanic guys are hanging around by the door. If they see me fucking you, they'll want a piece of your ass too. Could you take them all on?" he asked.

"No! Please, let me go," Hollie whimpered. She felt as squalid as it was possible to get, leaving her feeling small and helpless.

He had a firm hold of her arm, so she could feel his sweat as well as smell it. She looked down, not wanting to show her face. There was nothing she could do, no fight left in her. He could pull her away to a back room, to take her by her back door. This nasty young man had paid for her ass, so thought it was his right to take it. This student was going fuck his teacher's virgin ass!

Looking down she noticed something. The lump in his trousers had gone. He must have cum in his pants!

"No need to turn your nose up at me, Cindy whore. Fuck off with your change, teasing bitch," he told her. 

Hollie staggered off up the isle. She made it to the door in a daze, unaware the blouse had pulled open, when he dragged her off the boxes. It was open down to her waist, showing off the bra, with a note stuck in her cleavage. 

The guys hanging around the doorway explicitly let her know she was displaying her goods. 

"Nice slutty earrings, Cindy," one of them teased.

"Nice tits, white whore," one of them laughed, breathing cigarette smoke in her face.

"Is that all he paid for your ass?" one of them asked. 

Hollie elbowed her way through, bringing complaints, though no hands touched her. Perhaps they thought she was protected by a pimp. 

She strode to the pump, and took the ten dollars worth. She didn't care about bending over and showing them all she had. She was too angry with them and herself. She was tempted to drag her panties off, and throw them at the nasty bunch whistling at her. Not as an offer, it would be an outrageous show of madness.

She slumped in the seat and meanly crossed her arms, scowling straight ahead. 

Roger said nothing, he just pulled away heading home. A couple of times he meant to ask if she met Mick in the store. He had the sense to keep quiet.

***

As soon as they arrived she stripped off and threw the clothes in the trash can. Her young lover might dress her in worse than that, he had done, but they felt too dirty even to wash. He could buy the girl a new outfit, though she suspected he had bought them as part of the game.

Serving him naked as usual, her mood steadied. The routine helped settle her nerves. She had very nearly had her ass raped. Though she could never have complained about it, even if she wasn't a teacher; circumstances were against her. She looked like a whore and acted like one. As far as that young guy was concerned, she had given him a price for her ass. It would have made her a very cheap whore.

She had been stoked up all afternoon, and then almost set alight in that grimy store. 

She was calm now, under her master's control, ready to serve him. Offloading all her worries and responsibilities onto him, she was happy at his feet. She thought of asking him if he would keep her locked up here, safely out of trouble, for the next two weeks. 

"You OK?" he asked, while stroking her long hair.

"Yes, master, thank you master," she smiled back. A look of bliss reflected how she felt. Her master appreciated her beauty and her obedience, and in return gave her everything she needed.

"Over my lap, Cindy," he told her. "It looks sore from that spanking," he said.

The soothing cold ointment helped, but it was how he was doing it that had the most effect. Every crease and crevice was explored. Light touches caressed her bottom, thighs, and between the legs. 

Both hands concentrated on her most sensitive places, while she fantasised over what could have been this afternoon. That afternoons nasty, humiliating experiences, came flooding through her mind, with what might have happened. One after another strangers were taking her. The three brothers had her all at once, taking a hole each, using her like nothing more than a sex-doll.

All afternoon she had been worked up and let down. She couldn't hold back any longer. She lifted her head and wailed like a wild animal. She let go completely. The orgasm hit her hard, reverberating through her body and mind. 

At last she came back to the present. Her master was still playing with his toy, her body. Her breasts felt sore, so he must have been squeezing them tight, during her orgasm. His fingers must have been penetrating her deeply, though now it was a gentle massage.

If only she could spend the rest of the evening like this. Being played with by her master was so delightful it made up for all the bad experiences of the day. All could be forgiven, as the world became a wonderful place again.

***

Using the word 'master' had started out as a joke, became a throw away line, then it became an established habit. Now it defined their relationship. Roger was talking as though he expected her to stay for the entire summer break, though she couldn't see how it could continue, when his parents returned in two weeks. 

Their return would give her the rest of the summer to recover from this madness. Her mind drifted on a wave of pleasure, washing away all worldly cares and practical issues. 

"Wake up Cindy," Roger nudged her.

"Your slave wasn't asleep master, just day dreaming. Your hands are doing such wonderful things to your slave, master," Hollie sighed.

"I have another toy for you," he said.

"Isn't your slave a good enough toy, that she needs attachments, master," she teased.

"I'm proud of my beautiful slave, never doubt that. Even if she is a dreadful slut at times," he cajoled her.

Hollie stiffened at the rebuke, feeling hurt at the reminder of how she had behaved in class. If he knew her thoughts over Anne's brothers, he would be shocked. Dare she tell him what nearly happened in the gas station? 

"Your slave is a dreadful slut, master, she needs to be controlled, master," Hollie murmured, trying to placate him. She reasoned he had turned her into this wanton sex fiend, but it didn't help her feel any better. She felt it was sordid and all so badly true. She let out a long deep sigh.

She felt his fingers pushing into her open asshole, lubricating it with grease. She knew what this meant, and was both thrilled and appalled. It didn't hurt, so she assumed he was no longer using larger butt-plugs. She was ashamed to find her bottom was now stretched large enough for his cock. 

The indignity of having her asshole stretched on a student's whim would have to be gotten over. So far he hadn't used her body so crudely, so her bottom was still virginal. She hoped it would return to normal once she was free. 

She slid off his knees onto the floor. For a moment she wondered what he had put between her legs, but pushed it out of her mind. She needed to concentrate on pleasuring her master. Hollie had thought this to be a loathsome task, before meeting Roger. She soon began to relish it, until it became a delight.

On hands and knees before him, she prepared for a slaves duty, pleasuring her master. It had become more pleasurable for both of them, each time she took him into her mouth. This was no longer a bad thing to do, as she became an expert at giving her master pleasure.

Too soon he was looking down to see his sperm filling her tongue. She sat back on her haunches, with thighs spread, head back, and mouth open. She held the position so well, she resembled a sculpture. The sex slave, or the harem girl, might be the title, if she had been squatting on a plinth in an art gallery. 

He wondered if she realised how deeply she had taken on the role of slave.

"You can swallow, Cindy," he told her. "Be careful how you stand," he reminded her. 

A tingle ran across the back of her thighs, stimulating the soft flesh that was still sensitive, from his teasing fingers. Looking over a shoulder she saw something there, not understanding what it was. 

"Look in the mirror," he told her. 

Examining her back she saw a ponytail rise between her cheeks, to fall loose down to the back of her thighs. Moving her bottom from side to side swished the tail, tickling her bare legs.

"Walk around to get used to it," Roger suggested.

When she walked it swished from side to side, moving the butt plug, rubbing the walls of her anus. The devilish thing was humiliating and stimulating. It was so provocative and demeaning she wanted to shout out load in protest. 

"Master, does your slave really have to wear such an undignified thing? I'm already your obedient slave, master," she pointed out. 

It didn't occur to her she was thinking about being freed, and how deeply she accepted being his obedient slave. The fall from grace had been paid for with intense sex games, and her moral rectitude had been washed away in a deluge of deep arousal.

Before she could walk back to him he ordered her. "On your hands and knees Cindy. Tonight you're my lovely little pet. Crawl over here, pet-girl," Roger ordered.

She looked rebellious for a moment, then capitulated. This was yet again pushing her beyond her limits, even though they had fallen so damnably low. 

With her bottom in the air the tail swished back and forth, with delicious sweeps across her bottom and thighs. It rhythmically moved the butt plug, implanted deep inside. Little sounds of anguish were prised between her clenched teeth, as she wiggled across the floor. 

She made it despite the soreness, to kneel at his feet, swishing the tail as ordered. Hollie began to feel vibrations inside both bottom and vagina. They were becoming pleasant. Damn! Her master had done it again to her. He was humiliating her, and stimulating her body, all at the same time. 

She prepared the master's supper with great difficulty, while the decadent thing kept her on a high. So now even when he wasn't touching her, she was being stimulated. Continuously, without respite, her body was being teased. It was still early in the evening when she fell at his feet to beg him. 

"Please master. Either remove this thing or take me. I need to feel you inside me. I need to cum, feeling you deep inside your cunt. Please, master," Hollie begged.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 10



Looking at the quivering helpless mess that had been his teacher, he wondered if it had gone too far, too quickly. With little experience he had relied on what could be discovered on the Internet, not dreaming of results as devastating as this. 

The hesitation lasted a second, although it seemed an age for both of them, for different reasons. He decided to take things a little further. While like this she might agree to anything.

"School is over, so we could have ten weeks together, of uninterrupted play. We can play naughty delicious games, my pet Cindy. Do you agree to stay here with me, for ten weeks? Do you agree?" he asked.

"Yes, of course I will, master," she agreed. A shiver ran up her spine. There was no way she could teach a class in the state she was in, that had been proven earlier. What would she be like in ten weeks of constant slavery? The thought of him controlling her, playing with her, stoked an already burning furnace.

Watching the vigorously nodding pet, swishing its tail, told him she was completely under his control. He slid off the easy chair onto the floor in front of her. She whined like a puppy in anticipation. He roughly pulled her legs apart and pushed his face into her closely shaved pussy. 

He decided to take his time, however much she begged to be allowed to cum. He wanted to enter her tight pussy, feeling it clench upon his demanding cock. He wanted to fuck his sexy teacher hard.

"Yes, master, fuck your whore slave! Punish your bad teacher with your big cock. Hurt your slave, fuck me hard and fast," Hollie muttered deliriously. 

"You'll stay with your master, for the summer, Cindy," he stated, while hesitating on a plunge into her.

"Yes, master, what ever you say master," Hollie shouted. "Fuck your slut-slave master, fuck your cunt hard," Hollie implored him.

Roger drilled into her, burying his hard cock deep. He speeded up ending the teacher's pathetic whispering. His teacher whimpered uncontrollably then gasped. It was his signal to cum.

***

Next day Hollie squatted on the floor of her apartment. She hadn't been back here for weeks. She glanced around noting her master had looked after the place, as well as collecting the mail. He had even watered the plants, though she had to admit, he had kept her wet too.

She held her head up, with shoulders squared, thrusting out her breasts. Her knees were pushed apart, almost sideways, showing off her smoothly shaved pussy. The position was well practised, for her master, though he was more interested in the computer at the moment.

She sighed heavily. Her hands were perched palm upward on her knees. They twitched, from wanting to play with her master's cunt. She thought of her body as belonging to him, as he had conquered it all, taken it all. Not completely though for she was still an anal virgin. She was twitching from thinking about him taking her in such a depraved way. She sighed again.

"Your not playing with yourself, are you, Cindy?" Roger asked, with a glance over his shoulder. 

"No master," Hollie answered. She felt and sounded guilty, for she wanted to fiddle with her naughty bits. 

This morning she felt happy about being a naughty slut. Last night they had made their way to the bedroom, and yet again had become uncontrollably aroused. He chased her around the apartment, while all the time she wanted to be caught. A delightful slow love making was enjoyed, taking an age to ripen.

"Master, master, I'm still here," she whined, for she needed his attention. 

It was amazing how different she felt from the last time here, in her apartment. She had been the authority figure, a teacher, and a confident adult in charge of her life. This young man had been her student, unsure of himself when confronted with the fact that she was a teacher.

Over the last few weeks she had been the student, learning to let go of her inhibitions. Sometimes she was frightened he had made her into an uncontrollable slut. Most of the time, she revelled in the liberating feeling of being aroused out of control. He was now her master, controlling her life.

Hollie giggled, on realising the slave pose she automatically made, was a reflection of her new status. Her open mouth, breasts, and sex were thrust out, made available to him.

Under the deep influence of arousal she agreed to stay with him for the entire summer break. As much as it appealed, that was impossible, for she would be irreparably corrupted by then. Of course, she might not have a job to go back to, if just some of what had happened in class leaked out.

She thought of how much had leaked out of her pussy this morning, and giggled. She remembered waking up in the night, with his arms wrapped around her. She couldn't help herself; she had squirmed down the bed to wrap her lips around his cock. This morning she woke up with it growing in her mouth. 

"Are you sure you're not playing with yourself, Cindy," Roger asked again. He turned back to the computer, satisfied that his slave was behaving herself. 

She sighed heavily, exaggerating it to gain his attention. Was she already too far gone to recover enough for school? It was liberating being so out of control, yet sitting in class all day, fantasising about sex, wouldn't help the students much. They had enjoyed a quiet life the last week of school, but the new term would demand hard work. 

Perhaps when his parents returned, she could book herself into a sex clinic. In the meantime she would just let herself go, after all what choice was there, she was nothing more than a humble, obedient slave. 

Her master looked after everything. The sense of freedom from not having to think about problems, school politics, paying the rent on time, and even mundane tasks like what to cook for the evening meal, all was decided for her. Even what she was to wear had been decided by her master. 

Roger answered the emails, having studied her style from those already sent. There were no bothersome relatives to think about, just an ageing aunt in her home town, too old to have an email account. 

What pleased him so much was the one from the school board. They were unhappy about his teacher leaving, but appreciated the desire to return to her home town. They even wished her success for the future. The principle said the same thing, more or less. 

Roger smiled at his teacher, or was she just a slave now? 

She wasn't expected back at school, or anywhere else, and she had agreed to stay with him for the whole summer. He wondered if he could get away with keeping her longer than that. There were arrangements to be made, though the biggest problem would be his parents.

"Don't fidget slave girl. You're such sexy slut, Cindy. I can't leave you alone for a minute," he sternly said, with a smile that revealed how he really felt. 

"Sorry master," Hollie dutifully replied. 

Her face beamed up at him, with a look of devotion. This decided the issue.

He sent an email cancelling the apartment lease, and another arranging for the contents to be put into storage. Everything else could be dealt with later. His parents had been pleased with the way he kept his apartment, and more so with his grades. In return they granted him a generous allowance. Conveniently it had been increased to look after the house, while they were away.

The only expense he had was buying his slave clothes and toys. It was still cheaper than most other forms of entertainment, and much more fun. Perhaps he might suggest it to the students. Taking home a teacher as a slave for the summer might catch on. The teachers could have a rest and be looked after, while learning to respect their students. There were one or two lookers, though the rest could rest easy. He laughed at the idea.

"Come on Cindy, time to go shopping," he announced. He helped her up off the floor as she had become stiff, having to pose for so long. He gave her a big hug and kissed her long and deeply. 

"Thank you, master! What did your slave do to deserve such a caring hug?" Hollie asked, pretending to be surprised.

"Just for being you," he stated. It was true, but there again it was from a warm feeling, after making plans for her. He wondered how and when he would tell her she was to become a permanent slave. The very idea of it thrilled him. He still wasn't sure if he could get away with it, though he would give it a try.

"You're forgetting yourself, slave Cindy," he scolded her, with a wiry grin on his face.

Hollie looked down to realise she had walked out with the dress still tucked around her waist. Without panties it would was so very rude, even in this new state of debauchery she had acquired.

They laughed together and climbed into his van.

***

He bought her a beautiful dress, in a style which was a little young for her, yet she easily got away with it. Besides, next to him, arm in arm, it was assumed she was his age. It gave her a buzz to be eighteen again, feeling young and carefree; it was fun and exciting.

She no longer had parents to keep her in control, but had a young attentive lover to keep her out of control. The best thing about being under a master's care, being told what to wear, was that he took an interest in her appearance.

"Master, I can't get away with that!" she complained. 

"You have so far. Let's see how much people will judge you by the clothes you wear," he smiled. 

Hollie already knew that if you dressed like a slut in the wrong place, they thought you were whore. In the right place, they just thought you were a young rebellious teenager. When she wore a business suit to school, they thought she was older and more fitting for responsibility. There had even been a rumour about her being offered a new position, as head of the history department.

Right now she had to try and dissuade him from dressing her like a young airhead.

Her authority as a teacher had already evaporated, and anything left of her dignity as an adult, was fast dissolving. She dare not look in the mirror outside the changing room. The 'A' line dress flowed out to just below her hips, showing off a decorative pair of frilly panties. The look was ridiculous, and any self respecting teen would throw-up over the whole outfit. 

"Come on, we'll find some shoes for you," Roger laughed. 

It was bad enough knowing she could get into teen sizes. Actually trying them on was a nightmare. Her master was putting her in her place big time. After this she wouldn't complain about anything he dressed her in, however lewd it was.

"You shouldn't be trying on panties, sir," a woman assistant helpfully informed Roger.

"I'm not trying them on, though I understand, sorry. Sis, you had better get them off, no complaints, just do as you are told," he heavily told her.

With a look of disbelief she looked around. They were a long way from the changing room. The panties were decorative and meant to be worn over a sensible pair, but she hadn't been allowed to wear any this morning. Shit! The damn dress floated around too high, it would reveal her naked bottom half.

She took a step toward the changing rooms, only to be grabbed.

"No running off, Cindy. Sorry about this, she runs off when she doesn't get her own way. I think it would be easier to keep her on a leash," he told the woman.

So this was to be her humiliation of the day. She reluctantly pulled the big frilly knickers down, while looking around to make sure no one witnessed her disgrace. 

"Dear me, your little sister isn't wearing anything," Delores said. 

"Whoops! She must have juiced them then thrown them away. She is such a little slut she gets wet and soaks her panties. That's why she has to be watched. We'll buy those fancy ones, but she'll need some proper ones too," Roger told the assistant. 

Delores was used to all sorts over a long career in the same store. If the brother was prepared to parade his sister around, half undressed then who was she to complain. The floor manager often quoted the old phrase, 'the customer is always right'. He didn't have to cope with some of the weirdo's that walked in off the street.

"If you open them you have to pay for them, company rules," Delores stated. 

"Are you going to cum in these too, Cindy?" Roger asked. 

Hollie just shook her head. Her master was purposely embarrassing her, knowing how to put her in her place so well. How should she respond to his game, in front of this woman? She wanted to explain she was a teacher and a mature woman, though how could she. She cringed from the agony of being put down in front of a stranger.

There were few people around and none in this girly section of the department. Any moment people could flood in, catching her with her pants down. So thoroughly shaved was she, it was almost possible to believe she was a young teen. 

"Could you take her to the ladies restroom, just in case," Roger asked. 

The woman looked around at the empty department and shrugged her shoulders. A feeling came over her, of being set up for a practical joke. She wondered what mischievous game they were playing, but didn't care, so along as they paid and she earned a commission. Well so be it, she could use the restroom herself. 

"Sure. You had better buy this stuff," Delores commented.

Hollie tried to keep the hem down, but it was supposed to be a cute party dress, showing off a pair of frilly panties. The mother from hell might dress up their daughter like this, together with ribbons in her hair. The mother should have been strangled at birth. Or better still, should be humiliated by being made to wear an adult size. 

The woman had a hold of her hand making sure she didn't run off, so she couldn't hold down the back of the horrendous garment. She could feel her ass was on show as they left the girls teen section. The restroom was shared by the boy's section. 

A bunch of young guys were trying on leather jackets, when they spotted her, and predictably their mouths fell open.

When they walked out of the restroom the young guys were ready. The woman didn't notice them and they hardly noticed her. They were taking a great interest in Hollies' bare ass, as the hem bounced up showing off everything below the hips. Holly tried to ignore them, but even with her back turned she could feel their attentive stares. It felt as though their hands were stroking her bottom, and the feeling was stoking her up.

They followed closely, until the two women were safely into the female section. A rack of bra's stood as a warning talisman, like a danger notice keeping them out. She heard them snickering horribly, walking off together, discussing her bare ass.

Once back at her master's side she was thankfully allowed to change. It was surprising how young she looked in the outfit she was allowed to wear. 

"I'm your girlfriend now," Hollie beamed at Roger.

"No, Cindy, your much more than that, you're my slave-girl," he smiled back. "If we meet anyone I know, then you can be Cindy, my girlfriend," he told her.

Delores rolled her eyes and shook her head, as she watched them happily walk away. It seemed young people wanted to play games all the time. They just had too much money and time on their hands. Still, the commission would add to her vacation fund.

Hollie held onto his arm as they walked out of the store, feeling wonderful.

"Hi, Mrs. Gordon, how are you?" Roger asked.

"Hello Roger, I'm always just fine," Bridget smiled, and nodded to Hollie.

"This is Cindy, my, err, girlfriend," he said, almost giving the game away.

"Nice to meet you Cindy, you've been shopping early. Nice to see a young girl enjoying herself," Bridget said, with a strained smile. "I'm off on the trail of an outfit for a party. Must dash!" she added.

"Good hunting then," Roger said, as she turned to go.

He couldn't help looking at the departing woman's ass. It was she who left the set of butt plugs behind, in one of the guest bedrooms. He wondered what she would say, if he told her he had used them on his teacher. Perhaps she bought another set and was wearing one now?

"She's a beautiful woman, elegant too," Hollie commented.

"A friend of the family, a diplomat's wife," Roger explained.

"How friendly is she?" Hollie asked, surprised at the sharp tone of voice.

"Well, she lent me the butt plugs I used on you," he heavily said, meaning for her to be shocked. 

"You're familiar with that woman's bottom?" Hollie asked, before she could stop herself. She quickly looked around in case someone had heard her outburst

The look of disappointment on her face was too much to bear, so he needed to explain. "It was my job to clear up the guestroom they used, and I found them. The packet was unopened. I've no idea if she was intending to use them," Roger said, trying to console her.

"Oh!" Hollie quietly uttered. She was silent, wondering if what he said was a good thing, or a bad thing. 

They hadn't gone far when someone interrupted their contemplations. 

"Ho Roger," Big Eddy, exclaimed. He couldn't speak normally he had to make everything sound exceptional.

"This is Cindy, my girlfriend," Roger said, introducing her.

"Wow! Nice girl! Luscious and fruity! Tasty and tangy!" he announced. "Looks like a fun girl, Roger," he said, nudging his friend, exaggerating a wink.

Too much of that and Hollie would have to give him detention. It wasn't the disrespect, for he thought she was a girlfriend, it was the over the top body language and speech. It wore you down.

"Got to go, we're looking for a party outfit," Roger eventually said.

Hollie breathed a sigh of relief, when the guy finished his parting routine. He was white, but dressed like a Rasta man. He bounced along as though on springs, rather than walk steadily. They looked at each other and laughed. 

"Say nothing!" Roger warned. "We grew up together then he went his own individual way last year. Who knows what he's on," Roger said, and shrugged.

They drove to another mall, which Hollie recognised. She hoped he didn't have the intention of piercing her again. It was impossible to cover the big loops in her nipples as it was. When sitting down the fat loops in her lips were always felt. If she sat awkwardly they clashed with the loop in her clit. She imagined them locking together, which would cause some pain when trying to stand up.

The big slut earrings were embarrassing too. Though most of the time she hid them under her long hair.

A sigh of relief left her pouting lips, when they moved off in the other direction. Instead they walked into a sex store. Hollie guessed he was going to look for an outfit for the end of term party. It was organised by the older students, not by the school.

Hollie had refused to go as it would certainly sink her chances of continuing the contract. He had told her an outfit with a mask would be chosen, to protect her identity. She hoped it would protect the rest of her body.

Looking through the store was fascinating. She had never even thought of entering one, let alone shopping for a fancy dress costume. There were all sorts of devices and clothing, all aimed at some sort of perverse sexual gratification. She recognised a set of butt plugs for what they were and sharply turned her head, feeling embarrassed. She had thought a bar of chocolate was a sexual alternative, until meeting Roger.

There were plenty of things she didn't recognise, and dare not ask. If she did, would her master try them out on her? She of course noticed the shoes. There were some ridiculous high heels, though some did look nice, and even possible to wear. 

"Take this into the changing cubicle," Roger said. 

The all in one body suit looked too small. Nevertheless she pulled it on, managing to squeeze into it. For a moment she had to stoop over after pulling it over her shoulders. After a moment or two it stretched a little, allowing her to stand up straight.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 10



Before she got much of a chance to examine it he pulled her out of the cubicle. "Come along, slave Cindy. Your master wants to look at you," Roger commanded.

In a mirror she caught sight of herself. Perhaps this was why there was no mirror in the changing room; she had thought it strange. If she had seen herself she would have put up a fight before being dragged out.

The thing was skin tight, pulling between her legs, threatening to slice her in two. It was too thin not to wear anything underneath. A body stocking at least was needed, though even that wouldn't hide her piercings. 

It was some kind of clinging nylon, plastered against her body, from head to foot. The scooped neck showed her slave collar and name. If it had been skin coloured she would have looked naked from a only a short distance. Instead it was white, which showed up every fold between her legs. 

"That's no good, we'll look for something else," Roger informed her.

Getting used to being dressed by a young guy was one thing, but being paraded around like this was impossible. 

"Come along, I need you," he said.

"Master, I've nothing on under this!" Hollie quietly hissed. The look of astonishment on her face was meant to show unwillingness. 

"I know, your master can see plainly enough. Now come along, slave," he ordered. When he grabbed her hand, she had no choice except to follow him back through the store.

Men were looking at her. There was a group of Goths looking at the inevitable black clothing, but they were into their own thing. The men were ogling her body, as everything was prominently on show. This time a light behind her wasn't needed, as everything was lewdly on display.

It covered her from shoulders down to her toes, but displayed everything as though she were naked. Every time they passed a mirror she caught a glimpse of the piercings between her legs. All three were pushing unmistakably at the fabric, as were her swollen lips.

She tumbled along behind him, hoping to quickly find something more suitable. The men were peering over the racks at her, making her self-conscious over the awful exposure.

"What do you think guys?" Roger asked. 

Three turned away like naughty boys caught spying. Two of them were old enough not to care. "Nice. She's got a perfect body for that outfit," Joe smiled.

"Yea! Gotta say, if you got it, flaunt it," Eddie leered. A big smile lit his face when she turned around. 

Hollie was highly embarrassed. Two older men were examining her body, with eyes all over her. Her body was being exhibited, which could have been exciting, though their comments hammered home embarrassment, like sharp pins stinging her awareness. 

"Here, we'll try this," Roger smiled. 

The look told her all she needed to know. Her master was playing with his slave, showing her off to everyone. It didn't matter what he had chosen, she would be glad to get back to the cubicle.

The tight black leather was shiny and so very tight. It had taken an age to get into, with powder liberally sprinkled over her naked body. The built in corset pushed her little breasts up and out. Somehow it made them look large, and she felt a surge of satisfaction.

Over her nipples it was red and thinner, not hiding the nipple rings at all. Between her legs it was thin too. Over her lips and asshole was red leather, emphasising her sex, in a vulgar display.

This outfit was tight but it wasn't see-through like the last one. Having to parade around like this before strangers would have been impossible, only the last one had de-sensitised her, and she had to obey her master. She left he cubicle feeling a little more confident.

After the two men had commented on her appearance, and weren't discouraged by Roger, the other three joined in, to admire the next parade. 

"Walk up and down, Cindy," Roger firmly commanded. He watched her whole body wiggle on the high heels, as she sashayed before the group of admirers. 

Hollie didn't want them to think she was playing up to these rude men, but couldn't help swaying her hips with each step in the high heels. She could feel her bottom scrunching to one side then the other. Even her swollen pussy lips were acting up, by wriggling around in the red leather.

"Is the leather riding up?" Roger asked one of the guys. They were all staring at her crotch, as she stood before them, with legs apart. Both lips were separated and cupped in thin red leather. Roger ran a fingernail from her crotch up to her tummy, leaving an indentation in the leather, and a scorching hot trail inside. 

The guys almost applauded her reaction. Her whole body gave a distinctive little shiver, and she swayed forward on his finger. Despite her reservations, Hollie was very nearly at the point of losing the will to fight it. Her body would soon be reacting of its own free will, leaving her completely reliant on her master to control her. All self-control was evaporating in the red hot heat of desire.

"What do you think, is this better than the last outfit?" Roger asked. Roger pushed her forward, toward the gathering crowd. One step unbalanced her on the heels, so another was needed. The stumble was steadied by a hand. Belatedly others joined in, stretching the excuse of steadying her fall.

"Have you thought of having Cindy's tongue pierced? You can attach a chain from it to her pussy, she won't be able to move her head without pulling on her lips," one of the guys suggested.

She felt him tug on the piercing ring in her nipple and gasped.

Hollie felt the hands as though they were directly on her bare flesh. Stranger's hands were feeling and squeezing, touching her intimately. Unable to catch her breath she breathed deeply, when she should have warned them off. Panting short breaths encouraged them, as they recognised the signs of arousal. Besides, her body clearly broadcast all the signs of a near orgasm.

Roger eventually peeled her away from the groping. Sweating inside the leather had it plastered tighter around her body, so she could hardly move. She had been helpless in their hands. Instead of castigating Roger for pushing her into such a formidably embarrassing position, she was thankful to be under his control.

Once more safely in the cubicle, Roger helped unpeel the tight outfit, until she was naked. There seemed little point to covering her nakedness from the gaps around the short curtain after all had been revealed, in a far more lewd exhibition. It had felt as though her bottom and sex was being pulled open by the leather, as an offering to those grubby wandering hands. 

Roger dressed her, while she lifted a foot, stretching, turning and bending as required. The light taffeta fluffed out around her body, in a vivid contrast to the tight black leather. As she walked through the store in white flat shoes, she felt like a little delicate fairy. The naughty imps were waiting to tease and spy upon her.

Through the veils of material a glimpse of nipple, a cheek, or flash of crotch was spied. The men appreciated this outfit too. Hollie lifted her hand to her collar to adjust it. The innocent movement took a hold of their attention, as the hem caught in a bracelet. The hem lifted up the side of her body, over a hip. Her sex and one cheek were revealed. 

She knew something was up, on hearing a collective intake of breath, from the attentive men. She caught the bracelet in the collar and struggled a moment, until realising it hadn't just caught. The delicate bracelet wasn't just decorative, it was a cuff, designed to shackle her wrists. Together with the other cuff and ankle cuffs, she could be shackled tightly into position.

A clip on the cuff had locked itself to her slave collar. This one was serving a different purpose, as it gave the strangers an impromptu viewing of her naked body. With her free hand she tried to at least loosen the hem, only she was now lifting both sides of the dress. The more she struggled the more entangled the hem became. It was now around her hips, displaying her nakedness.

Roger looked at the mess she had made. "You silly little girl, Cindy. Stop struggling or you'll tear the dress," he scolded her. 

The belittling words had her cringing with shame. Her free hand was clipped to the collar, by her master. She had to stand before strangers while they gawped at her naked body. 

Something she had forgotten from years back flushed her face with embarrassment. An aunt had told her off when she slipped and fell in a restaurant. 

"You naughty girl, where are your knickers," Aunt Mabel hissed. The people surrounding them ignored her inelegant lapse, showing off her sex. She had seen the sly looks men gave her, before they looked away, feigning disgust. 

As an impressionable teenager she had been mortified. It had been unfair for she had told her aunt she had no clean ones, before they went out. Instead of lending a pair of her cousins, the irritable old woman had pulled her out the door.

A flash of insight had her thinking. At the time there had been another feeling, as well as the embarrassment. She had felt some sort of power, from having those men's guilty looks concentrated upon her body.

Roger led her away, with her feeling like a naughty little girl, after being scolded for letting her dress ride up. Showing off a pair of panties would be bad enough, yet she had shown off her shaved pussy, and her bare bottom. No-one there looked away to save her blushes, they took a long hard look. The stranger's stares seemed to penetrate her.

At last they were at the counter paying for the party outfit. The ones tried on had to be purchased too, but it was galling to find her master had already selected the party outfit. She hadn't even tried it on. The humiliating exhibition was for his amusement.

"I see you have these slave collars, do you have a spare key?" Roger asked, while holding on to his slave's collar.

"No spares. One collar one key, that's how it works," Bill explained. 

"So, if I need a key I'd have to buy a collar too," Roger said.

"No, that's no good as each key is designed to fit the collar. You need to keep the key that came with that one real safe," Bill said, while totalling the bill.

"But I didn't get one!" Roger complained.

"Then it just doesn't come off. It's titanium, no way to burn it off without killing her. I guess the manufacturer could make another one. You could email them to find out," Bill suggested, trying to be helpful. 

Hollie listened to their conversation with keen interest. Hearing about the collar and a lack of a key was bad news. Would she have to wear a slave collar for the rest of her life?

In his van Roger sat looking at his slave, wondering if he should tattoo her now or later. The store was a little further along, so it would be convenient to call in and brand her as his slave. He decided to wait until after he had told her she was staying with him for good.

"I thought that went well. I can see you enjoyed it too, slave Cindy," Roger said.

Hollie snatched her hand away from her crotch. The idle stroke of her bare pussy had been automatic, while day dreaming about what had happened, and might have happened in the store. All those men ogling her body, was both shameful and exciting. 

She sat back in the seat, with the dress up around her waist, with legs parted. She had to sit like this so he could play with her if he chose to. It meant truck drivers sitting above them could see her shaved pussy, but that didn't happen often. 

She tried to think of something other than sex, something that wouldn't heat her up. The name she hated was used so often, she had begun to respond to it more than her own. Everyone she met read it off the name tag, and of course her master used it to remind her of her lowly position.

She obediently sat there, waiting to please her master. She wondered if he might want her to suck his cock while he drove, or just play with it. She would have to be careful for he nearly ran off the road last time, for she had worked so hard. She had promised to be careful, and not make him cum until arriving home. 

She sat there with a pleased look upon her face, knowing she had become a dutiful and obedient slave-girl. A shadow of doubt crossed her face. It had happened too soon! She was already too deeply into the role! Two whole weeks she had to get through before being set free. 

'Hold on to your sanity, girl,' she silently said. She would have to be more careful, or lose her identity. Perhaps she should go back to her apartment for few days, to escape his influence. She couldn't think of an excuse, but then she was a mature adult, did she really need an excuse? She would just tell him, she needed to go to her apartment.

"Slave, Cindy, you know what to do," Roger said, pointing to his crotch.

"Yes, master," Hollie answered, and unzipped him, without a thought to where they were. As she settled into a steady routine, bobbing her head up and down, she had time to think. After the party tonight, I'll ask my master for permission to return to my apartment.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 11



Chapter 11

The Student Party

At home Hollie stood waiting like a good and faithful slave girl. She was trying hard to behave herself. 

"Stand still, your fidgeting, Cindy," Roger told her. 

The chains hadn't been worn for awhile and were cold. She felt them pulling through the nipple rings, and running over her nipples. She couldn't help shivering from the tingling sensations, which ran right through her body.

The two chains attached to the collar, ran through the nipple piercings and were being threaded through the clit piercing ring. He seemed to be taking his time with this one. Every link tinkled through the loop of metal, tickling her swelling bud with irrepressible tingly sensations. 

Eventually the chains were dangling between her thighs, ready to be attached to her pierced lips. Again he took his time, pushing and prodding her lips. She felt his breath upon her sex and she sighed. Her breathing had become ragged. Her lips were swelling and opening up to him. She wondered if her sex would ever return to normal, as it was constantly swollen and ready, while she was in an almost constant state of arousal.

He pulled the chain which lowered the collar, and clipped it to the loops in her lips. The clack of metal on metal was loud, as the catch was snapped in place. If she raised her head the chains ran over her nipples and bud, pulling upon her lips.

Hollie looked over at the unopened packaging suspecting she was to wear a see-through outfit. Here in the privacy of their fantasy world it would be fun. At a party, in front of students, it would be a disaster.

"Please master, you will let Cindy wear panties and a bra, please, master," Hollie begged. Again Hollie realised how low she had sunk. He had made her into his obedient slave girl, begging to be allowed to wear panties. It was dangerous to be so much in the grip of obedience, and to have given in so deeply to her submissive side. 

"What if your master doesn't allow his slave to wear panties? I might want to show off my teacher's plump cunt. All the piercings need to be shown off, even the hoop earrings, so everyone will know what a slut you are," Roger teased.

"No! Sorry master! Please, your slave can't go out like this, its impossible!" Hollie screeched. 

Calling her a teacher was a harsh reminder of the responsibility she had abandoned. Using that bad word for her sex pushed her over the edge. She just couldn't face being exposed to students as a slut, even if they played at it while alone. 

"Come here, come here, slave Cindy!" Roger harshly demanded. 

He roughly pulled her over his knee, exposing her bare bottom. The chains hung down, rattling as she struggled. He held her with one hand pressing the small of her back, while tightening the chains. When she was fastened tight, he took a deep breath.

Her arms were held back and her legs bent back, almost in a hogtie position.

"Now, slave girl Cindy, you will be reminded of your place. You are to obey your master, understood?" he quietly asked, now sounding calm and reasonable.

"Master," she said, with a sob. Hollie wanted to say she was his teacher, and he couldn't spank her like a little girl. She also wanted to let go and sob like one. She wondered if feeling that way was because she was over his knee, or that she fell into it after becoming so dependent upon him, like a child. 

"Oww!" she yelped. She heard the slap first then felt it sting.

"Sorry master," she whimpered.

"What are you?" Roger asked, and slapped a cheek hard.

"Owwwww! I'm your little slave girl, Cindy, master," Hollie sobbed. 

"What do you do?" he said, sounding casually curious, and slapped the other cheek.

"Owwww! Your slave girl, Cindy, must obey her master," Hollie said, between sobs.

"When?" he impatiently asked. 

"Owwww! Your slave girl, Cindy, must obey her master at all the times, master," she cried.

"What must she obey?" he asked.

"Owwww! Your slave girl, Cindy must obey her master at all times, every command, master," Hollie said, between dry sobs.

"When not commanded, what then?" he asked. 

"Owwwww! Please, master," she screeched from a hard slap, and a twist of a nipple ring.

"Your slave girl, Cindy, must obey at all times, every command, and anticipate her master's needs. Sorry master, thank you for punishing your slave girl, Cindy," she whimpered, sounding chastened.

Roger rubbed her wet lips roughly. At the same time he twisted the other nipple, to even things up. Hearing the whimpering sound turn to a deeper tone and seeing how sexed up she was, he suddenly stopped. 

"Stand up slave, Cindy," he commanded. Roger handed her a tissue and a flesh coloured bikini, still in its wrapping. 

"Oh! Thank you master! Your slave, Cindy is so grateful master," Hollie cooed, while wiping her eyes dry. She felt so happy that her master had thought of her, she completely pushed aside the danger from having capitulated. 

"Cindy will be a good obedient slave girl, master, Cindy promises," she gushed. A tinge of regret over the way she had behaved almost started her crying again. She just couldn't help debasing herself before her wonderful, thoughtful master.

Clips at the sides of the bikini bottoms, and at the front of the bikini top, were fiddly. She snapped them together once figuring them out. Hollie knew her master had picked a harem-girl outfit, but didn't know what it was like yet. Figuring it would be transparent she felt much better wearing a bikini. 

"There you are, slave Cindy," Roger said, holding out the packaging.

She felt like a little girl, excited over opening a birthday present. It wasn't a tacky nylon Halloween costume it was made of luxurious soft, smooth silk. Though she had been right, the material was see-through. 

He held her as she stepped into the baggy pantaloons. They had slits up the sides from ankle to waist. She pulled over her head the baggy top. A little brimless hat was fixed in her hair, which was pinned up. A waft of blue silk flowed from the hat. She didn't like the ridiculous thing one bit, but couldn't complain after a spanking. 

With her hair up she could feel the big dangly hoop earrings swaying against her neck. A tinge of shame reddened her cheeks, matching her bottom. Slut earrings pointed out to everyone what she had become. She was a red hot slut, and she knew it was true. It came with the release of her inhibitions, a powerful sexual urge, with her sex throbbing constantly.

Roger pulled the small chains of a blue veil around her neck and hair, to lock them in place. He tested it to make sure it couldn't be removed. She felt relatively safe behind the effective mask. She peered out at the world feeling protected and apart from it.

Hollie stood in front of her master, feeling aroused and proud. She looked like a harem slave-girl, and deeply felt the part. She loved the idea of being her masters obedient slave girl, and was ready to please him in everyway.

Her eyes glowed with joyful tears from behind the mask, with the idea of being owned by such a thoughtful master. He looked her over, examining her carefully. The big smile on his face confirmed she was perfect. 

"Well, my wonderful slave girl, Cindy, you look magical, gorgeous," Roger said. His broad smile showed how happy he was. 

It wasn't just the thought of taking this attractive woman to a student party. Neither was it that she was dressed as his harem slave-girl, in chains, wearing a daringly see-through outfit. It was thrilling to know this woman was plainly his to command. He had corrupted an attractive woman into becoming his obedient sex slave!

The curve of her thighs, the swelling of her breasts, the heart shaped bottom, and the rise of her hips below a slim waist, all conspired to declare she was a sexy woman! The hidden, full luscious lips were so enticingly kissable. The dark eyes peering at him from behind the veil were so seductive, he wanted her right now. He wanted to throw her to the floor, force her legs apart, and take her. 

Hollie could see how hard her master was. His cock was visibly throbbing in his jeans. He wanted her and she was as usual ready for him, as it was a slave's duty. Right then it went beyond duty, as she revered their relationship, feeling it was sacred and right. She wanted nothing more than to be his slave.

"I err need to get changed," Roger quietly stated. It was difficult to tear his eyes away from her. When he walked back into the room she stood languidly waiting for him. Knowing her so well he could see she expected him to take her; she needed it. If they did, they would never make it to the party. All evening they would make love, playing and caressing until ready again.

He took a deep breath. "Come on slave girl. We have to go to the party, your master commands it," Roger firmly said. He needed to convince himself as well as motivate her.

The venue was an out of town hotel, with conference rooms. All the eighteen year olds in school contributed. Some of the unscrupulous guys had bullied younger students into contributing, though they of course wouldn't be allowed to attend.

A dance floor with a small stage, a room set up for drinks, and another for lounging around, made up the party venue. The sofas and easy chairs were borrowed from home, and elsewhere, with no questions asked. 

Parents and teachers hadn't been informed, and so far adults were in the dark. Mack was looking after the hotel for his uncle and the staff had been paid to keep quiet. They had also been bribed with the promise of being allowed to join in later.

Everyone was in fancy dress. Roger was dressed as an Arab sheik, with his slave on the end of a leash. Hollie was nervous as they walked in. The low lighting helped her calm down a little. 

On seeing some of the outrageous outfits she relaxed. A giggle sounded from behind the veil, when she saw a guy opening his cloak to reveal a giant penis. If it hadn't been for its exaggerated size, the realness off it would have been rude.

There were a couple of spicy dance girls, and the inevitable cheerleaders, probably because they had little imagination. A cat woman was dressed in head to toe leather, reminding her of the dressing up ordeal in the sex store. The poor girl would be sweating soon, though she looked hot now. 

Seeing a well built girl in a very brief bikini reassured Hollie. Not only was she wearing a decent bikini, she also had some coverage from the harem-girl outfit. Though, her most treasured possession was the veil. Being used to wearing slave chains and collar, these weren't given a second thought. 

Being discovered at a student's party was more of a concern than anything she wore. That the veil was locked to her collar was comforting enough for her to relax. The dance floor was full of gyrating bodies which they tried to emulate but gave up. They pulled away from the heaving mass, into the lounge, managing to secure an easy chair.

Hollie sat on his lap feeling shy and looking demure. The pose sat well with her outfit. She felt completely in tune with being a harem slave-girl, and with being owned by a master. He pulled her close, and whispered something in her ear. She didn't hear over the sound of music, but felt the tickle of his breath.

He kissed her ear through the large hoop earring, and worked his way down her neck. She looked around the shadowy room, flicking her eyes around discreetly from behind the veil. Others were petting, enjoying a moment of intimacy in the dark. Her master's hands explored her body.

The slits up the sides of the pantaloons gave his hands access to her thighs. The bikini between her legs was pushed aside. For a moment she needed desperately to pull her legs together. She was a responsible teacher, among students, so couldn't let one of them finger her. 

The moment of hesitation was lost. Behind the veil she watched the students kissing and flirting in each others arms, while her master finger fucked her. She was after all just a harem slave-girl, under a master's control. 

A girl pushed a guy way, with a warning hand at his face, ready to slap him. He had gone too far, whatever that was for the young girl. Hollie was a slave, with all moral decisions left in her master's hands. At the moment a breast and her pussy was in his hands. 

They had a quick session on arriving home from the shopping trip, but since dressing up she had needed far more. Now he was looking after her, with delicate touches to his cunt. Her master knew her body so well, he soon had her panting.

"I'm not like that slut over there, so watch where you put your hands," Millie told the guy. 

Hollie gasped! It was partly from his touch to her clit, while also pulling on the chain, running over it. At the same moment she recognised the girl calling her a slut. Millie was in her class! The girl had guessed what they were doing, though she didn't know it was their teacher being fingered in front of everyone. 

Roger heard the girl too and must have recognised her voice. He straightened up before anyone else discovered them. He needn't have bothered for the groups of lovers were engrossed in their own worlds. Millie didn't have an audience, so figured she was the one out of tune. She turned to her boyfriend and deeply kissed him. He resumed the exploration of her body, with a little more care this time.

They stood up and Roger led her over to a couple of friends. After all that was the point of the party, to show off girlfriends or meet one. To this end other girls had been invited, as well as those from school. Hollie hoped they thought she was one of the girls invited from town.

"Have you seen Gavin and Anne?" Andrew asked. "They're here together," he said, with a big smile on his face. 

At the mention of her student Gavin, Hollie cringed. In class he had fingered her, and announced to everyone she had piercings in her sex. The humiliating experience needed to be suppressed before she became overwhelmed by it. She had been feeling good up until then. 

Andrew too had deeply kissed her, and held on to her bottom. Here such behaviour wouldn't be out of place. Groping the teacher in class was way out of order. She just had to rely on Roger to keep them quiet. If anything leaked out about the unsavoury episode, her career would be ancient dust.

"Yesterday brought them together, at last," Jack said.

"We don't mention the last day of school, remember!" Roger heavily stated.

"What did I say? Nothing! All a blur, forgotten," Jack countered. 

"Who's the girlfriend?" Andrew asked.

"Your sister," Roger joked. 

"Just send her home sweet, the sour puss is a right pain," Andrew said, with a pained expression.

They laughed while Hollie looked suitably humble, not saying a word. The last thing she needed was to be recognised. 

"Give me some of that, Jack," Roger asked. 

"No! Get your own. Send your slave Cindy for drinks," he laughed. 

"You guys are a pain. Must run in the family Andy, sure your not related, Jack?" Roger mocked them.

"Slave girl, fetch three drinks," Roger imperiously ordered. There was no need to be specific, as only soft drinks were served. 

She looked at the cans, deciding to get a repeat. She wasn't happy about leaving his side, though she obeyed like a dutiful slave girl. It was preferable to standing close to her students when dressed in slave chains. 

Her pierced nipples were attracting their attention, making her uncomfortable, as they stared at the bikini top, while talking among themselves. Her hair was up showing off the hoop earrings, though they hardly noticed them. 

Sidling into the throng of dancers she tried to keep to the wall, working her way around to the bar in the next room. 

"Oh!" she exhaled. Stepping on someone's foot surprised her. When a pair of hands grabbed her out of the shadows, she yelped. The loud noise, which they called music, deafened everyone to her complaints. The guy took a firmer hold of her. 

"Clever outfit!" he shouted in her ear. "I was going to steal a kiss, for treading on me," he shouted. 

The veil was in the way, which she was thankful for. He still had his arm around her, holding on tight. Unless she stretched up to shout in his ear he wouldn't hear a word of protest. Pressing her near naked body against him was not an option, so how could she tell him off? She struggled from his grip and he let her go.

His friend was next, as they made it a game of guiding her in the dark. She didn't need their groping hands, yet she daren't make a fuss. The three of them passed her on like a parcel, fortunately not un-wrapping her as they went. 

The fourth caught his hand in a chain. He took a closer look at her, only seeing her top half, as she was so close. He put his hand to her breast feeling the big fat piercing ring. Realising what he had done he snatched his hand away, and let her go.

Hollie heard their laughter, and cringed with embarrassment. She would have to find another way back, or they would assume she had come back for more. The last one must have told his friends about the pierced nipple. If they decided to explore her body for more, she wondered if it would be possible to stop them. 

Returning with arms full of cans, she had to decide how to get back. The stage was on one side, the uncouth guys were on the other, so that left the option of pushing through the crowd. It proved to be a good choice, as the couples were too interested in their partners to bother her. 

Halfway across the dance floor she discovered a disadvantage, floor lights. They shone up through the outfit, lighting it up like a lamp shade. Her body was clearly displayed as though naked. She dare not look, and carried on with head down, hugging the cans.

"Wow! Great outfit!" a guy shouted in her ear. 

She tried to move around him, but he wound his arms around her for a slow dance. At last they were playing something recognisable, though why now? 

"I've got to go," she said, indicating the cans.

"OK Cindy. Just one dance won't hurt," he smiled. 

She gave in to the inevitable, hoping he would keep his word. Fingers stroked up her backbone, over bare flesh. At least it wasn't in the direction of her bottom. The material was too thin and smooth to protect her from pleasurable sensations. A hand glided into a side slit in the pantaloons, to stroke her inner thigh. 

"Hey, that's enough!" she warned.

The hand reluctantly pulled away, dragging fingers across her thigh. It moved up to her neck and stroked with a light touch. She wondered if this was any better. Up her neck it ravelled and pulled on the collar, then the chain. 

"Don't do that!" she complained. At least the music wasn't so loud, she could make herself heard.

She felt it slide over her nipples, which were already engorged from her masters playing, and the humiliation from being called a slut. Feeling the links rubbing her clit and pulling her lips apart was terrible. It reminded her of that awful moment in school, with Angela. The dishonour of having a stranger playing with her sex inevitably heated her up. 

"Stop that, right now," she insisted. Clutching the drinks meant she couldn't push him away, though she did nudge him, to little effect. Relying on her voice was no good, as it was fading with every pull of the damn chain.

"It's not funny, it hurts," she lied. 

He just smiled, not realising what he was doing to her. He knew he was on to something from the way she reacted.

"Where does it hurt, I could kiss it better," he quipped. He obviously didn't believe it was painful. He had figured out it was connected to the large rings in her nipples, but nothing more than that.

It wasn't stimulating it was annoying, unlike when her master stimulated her body. He pulled it in a certain way and felt her clit throb. She couldn't help reacting with a deep sigh, almost dropping the cans.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 11



"Please, sir, you don't know what you're doing. Stop it, please," she whimpered. 

"You're a harem slave-girl, so behave your self, or I'll whip you," he whispered in her ear. 

Hollie couldn't help whimpering from arousal. Her whole body trembled from the audacity of such an idea. An image of her on hands and knees, being thrashed before everyone was overpowering. She imagined students chanting her name, while she was forced to count the strokes, as this young guy thrashed her.

The feeling of being discovered, that she was a teacher being molested among all these students, was sexing her up. She was reacting like a dirty slut! She pinned his leg between her thighs. He kissed her neck, while pulling the chain, and she rubbed herself against his leg. 

After a day of being teased and let down so often, she was terribly vulnerable. She shrank into the role of innocent slave girl, dependent upon her betters to decide her fate. If this young guy was going to master her, then she must submit to him, as she was just a slave-girl. Or was it the slutty state of lust that was overpowering her?

"I've got my car outside, Cindy," he breathed into her ear. 

She knew what he meant and what would happen to her if she gave in. Her body was on fire, stoked from being pushed to the edge so many times; so ready to explode. For him it would be a one night stand with a slut from town. For her it would be a quick release from the burning desire. 

Would she offer herself as a slave, to someone who didn't know what to do with her? After he took her she would have no option. The thought that he might send her packing after he had fucked her, was an intriguing idea. The normally despicable thought gave her hope of escape from bondage.

She took a deep breath, shocked at the idea she was willing to fuck a stranger to gain her freedom.

The music stopped and everyone parted to applaud. In that instant she darted between the dancers, running like a naughty little school girl, heading back to her master. She was breathing heavily from a close encounter, wondering if she would have submitted to a stranger. It had nearly happened before, with that girl, though maybe it was all in her imagination.

"No need to run around for your master, slave girl," Roger smiled. 

They broke off the conversation as she handed over the drinks. They stared at her heaving chest assuming it was from running. It was from the excitement of escaping from the clutches of a stranger, as well as from arousal. 

They studied the wet blouse, and the engorged dark red nipples, showing through the bikini top. They were intrigued by the large rings piercing the plump, sore looking nipples. They assumed it was from the cold cans. They followed the chains up to the collar, figuring out how they worked, not realising they were connected lower down.

Their brains became connected again, to realise they were staring at a friend's girlfriend's tits. They looked away and made excuses, leaving Roger to his quiet girlfriend. They went roving, eyeing up the girls.

Hollie hardly noticed their stares, after having nearly been kidnapped by a stranger. She was too acutely aware of how vulnerable she was, to be bothered by his two friends. She dare not draw attention to herself ever again, and drew closer to her master. 

"Swivel, both of you," Angela said, when Andrew and Jack asked her for a dance. 

They laughed and moved on, expecting nothing else from the beautiful, stuck up bitch. 

Angela discreetly watched, from just outside the doorway. The interaction between the harem girl and Roger, who was holding the woman's leash, was enough to confirm her suspicions. Shared looks and gentle touches revealed what they meant to each other. Angela was furious!

***

On the dance floor the harem girl had been revealingly lit up. Angela recognised the slave chains and collar, not believing it at first. The name tag was new, but the more she studied the so-called harem girl, the more she was convinced it was Hollie, a teacher from school. Angela watched over her dance partner's shoulder, as a guy grabbed the woman for a dance.

She wondered what a teacher was playing at, dressed in such a vulgar get-up, and dancing with a student. What the hell was she doing here in the first place? He didn't look the type to keep a submissive on a leash. When the woman started playing up to him, her jaw fell open. 

Damn! If only she had brought a camera! The dance finished and Angela was going to confront her. Before she could, the woman fled from the dance floor, pushing passed in a panic. Curious as to what was going on, she decided to follow.

***

"Fucking bitch!" Angela spat. She glared across the room, plotting the woman's downfall. A damn teacher was making up to the guy she had in mind as a boyfriend. At school Roger spoke to her and even flirted a little, though it became obvious he wasn't interested. Angela had tried harder, wondering why he was so immune to her advances. No wonder. He had a damn teacher as his slave!

As soon as she saw the collar round the woman's neck, last week in school, she knew what it meant. The teacher was a submissive, and had a master! She couldn't resist playing with the woman, and found her easily turned on and malleable. At the time Hollie had admitted to having the collar and chains bought by a boyfriend, which meant her master. Roger was rich enough to afford such an expensive collar, and so now Angela knew everything. It seemed impossible, but the evidence was right before her.

If the woman was unmasked, their stupid little game would be ruined. At the very least, she would have to move to another school. His parents would certainly put a stop to such an unseemly relationship. Right now, this evening, she had to fix her. Angela needed to do something quickly to satisfy her temper. 

Hollie looked toward the door, feeling someone's stare. There was no-one there, though a few guys in the room quickly turned away. She giggled. Of course someone was staring at her, for she was a stunning looking, scantily clad slave girl. Her master had told her so.

With his arm tight around her she felt safe, and comforted by his presence. Friends came up to talk to him, and ogled her body. Some of them were in her class, which gave her a thrill, as they never guessed who she was. A girlfriend on one guys arm kept tugging at him. She was obviously jealous and gave Hollie a sour look. The veil was better than dark sun glasses, for she could observe without being observed. 

Her confidence returned as the evening wore on. She was among students, showing off her body in a lewd outfit, and loved it. She could never have done this at their age, and some of the girls let her know she shouldn't be either. The thinly veiled, snide remarks were gauche and amusing. 

As a mature woman her body had filled out in a desirable way that the young guys found intriguing. She was attractive anyway, but the outfit was seductive, or just damn sexy. They thought she was eighteen, and the way she flaunted her body, they thought she was available. The only thing stopping them trying it on was Roger's presence. 

"Master, your harem slave girl, needs to visit the restroom," Hollie quietly said. Asking permission wasn't humbling it was an automatic request. 

"Go my lovely, slave girl Cindy, and hurry back to you master," he said, with a broad smile. 

It gave her a warm feeling having her master pleased with her. Thankfully the restrooms were in the opposite direction to the entertainment rooms. She walked along a corridor to find the inevitable queue. She wondered why they weren't using both doors, unless it was a single queue for both.

"Wow! That costume is a winner! What a sexy costume," a girl loudly announced, with bubbly enthusiasm. "Here take my place, you look as though you need to go," she said, and pushed Hollie through the other door.

Two Hispanic girls were leaning over the sinks, touching up their makeup. For neither of them would it do much good. Hollie thought they could do with a mask like hers. The helpful girl stood with her back to the door, with arms folded. 

The big girl looked at her in the mirror. "Go ahead, don't stand there and pee yourself," she said.

The other two laughed, as though she had cracked a joke. Hollie looked at her, unable to keep a look of disdain from her face. In the stall the feeble lock was broken. Evidently so, when the big girl pushed the door wide open. 

"Hey! Do you mind! Shut the door, please," Hollie said, with a mean look on her face.

"Just wondering how you're going to pee in that costume. Looks expensive don't get it wet," she jeered.

"I would like some privacy, if you don't mind," Hollie piously said.

"Sounds a right stuck up bitch, Maria," the other girl said.

Hollie couldn't hold on any longer and let go. It was partly a sign of defiance, and partly from need. 

"Well done! Did you see that, Pia? The rich bitch pee's the same as us," Maria stated, with mock sincerity. 

Before Hollie could pull the pantaloons up they grabbed an arm each, and pulled her out of the small cubicle.

"Hey! Let me go. I'll scream!" Hollie shouted. 

"Everyone knows I've booked this as my office. So don't bother, screams are expected," Maria explained.

"What, what do you want? I've no money," Hollie quietly said.

"We can see that," Maria pointed out, and the two friends laughed.

Hollie looked toward the door, only then noticing the girl leaning on it. She tried to shake the two off, but they were too strong. Once more she regretted her small size, as a feeling of helplessness overcame her. It was a different sort of vulnerability this time, not sexual at all. Being pressed up against a cold sink, was a reminder her bottom was still exposed. Then it occurred to her, they might want to molest her.

"Let me go, I'm a t, I'm, I'm not a student, you will be in trouble," she stammered, and lamely protested, trying hard to shake them off. The grip tightened around her arms.

"Let's take a look at who you are then, besides being just some dirty slut from town," Maria scorned.

"No! Please," Hollie complained, and resumed squirming violently. Being exposed would be horrendous. She would do anything to prevent it. 

She recognised the girl! She was a well known bully. Hell! If she and her gang found out she was a teacher, they would use that knowledge to the full. She would be under this girls thumb, or some place worse. Shit! They would make use of her like a real slave, not like playing around with Roger. 

"Look at the state of those panties," Maria said to her friend. They were hanging loose around her knees, showing off the wet crotch. "You really are a wet slut! Hold her still Pia, the damn mask is stuck," Maria said. "How do you unlock this thing?" she asked.

"I don't know, my, err, someone else locked it," Hollie was relieved to say. She remembered her master locking it and pocketing the key.

"Take the bikini off, Pia," Maria ordered. 

Hollie felt the bikini bottoms pulled from the slit running up the side of the pantaloons. It was small comfort to feel the girl pull up the thin baggy pants, to cover her ass. Why was it everyone wanted to dress her? Did she look like a little cute dress-up doll? Her name Cindy was appropriate enough. 

Pia deftly unclipped the front of the bikini top and pulled that off too. Hollie felt it slide across the piercing rings, rubbing the sensitive orbs of hard nipples. Again the girl pulled her top into place, though it was a waste of time, for the damn thing was transparent.

"Wow! You are into this chain thing!" Maria exclaimed. "Look at this Pia," Maria directed, while pulling on the rings in her victims lips. 

"Well, enough fun. We trade you, bikini for the mask," Maria stated.

Hollie was about to correct her, by telling her it was a veil. The subtlety would be lost on the big lump of a girl. She wanted to shout at her that she was a teacher and they would be in big trouble for this. Of course, it was she who would be in trouble if anyone found out. 

"I can't get it off, please, let me have my bikini back," Hollie pathetically whined. The strident tones of authority had been flushed away. She had lost her clothing and dignity. 

"Are you prepared to go out there without this?" Maria asked, while dangling the bikini in her face. The garment seemed flimsy and pathetic, when screwed up in the big fleshy fist.

"I really can't get the veil off! Please give me back the bikini," Hollie pleaded, while staring at her only protection from nakedness.

"You've got some balls girl. I'll give you that," Maria unpleasantly smiled. 

Like most people Maria expected a person to cover their body from strangers, if caught naked. The logical thing to do would be to cover their face, as that's what we are recognised by. Logic often fails when a person is scared, as nature knows how inadequate it is in real life.

In horror Hollie watched the bikini being flushed down the toilet. She sobbed. She was only able to stand because Pia supported her. What the hell were these nasty girls going to do to her next?

"Admire your courage girl! Well, off you go then. Unless you would rather stay and lick three pussies?" Maria laughed.

She shook her head from side to side unable to accept what had happened. The three girls pushed her from the restroom and marched her down the corridor. Everyone in the queue looked away, minding their own business, not daring to interfere with the school bully.

Pushed through a door onto the dance floor, Hollie stumbled and fell. 

Maria walked off with her minions. 

"We were supposed to remove the mask," Pia pointed out. 

"Too bad it didn't work out that way. Life is full of unexpected shit. Angela already paid me, and there are no refunds," Maria explained. "Let's go buy some dope and have some fun," Maria laughed.

The dance floor lights flooded the translucent outfit, clearly lighting everything up. Every piercing ring could be clearly seen, with the chain connecting them. All could now see her naked body, from the big hoop earrings, down to her pierced lips. Being shaved left her feeling not just exposed, but blatantly flashing her sex.

Pulling her legs together, she scrambled up off the floor. She might as well have lain back with legs spread, as a clearer invitation. 

"Are you catching flies?" Michael asked, in his usual pompous way.

She clamped her mouth shut then opened it to utter one word. "Fuck!" Angela bitterly said, with great feeling. 

"You'll have to join a long queue, she's a real beauty," Michael stated, while taking a good look at the naked harem girl, as everyone else was.

Angela couldn't believe it. The woman was practically naked, being ridiculed by everyone, which could have been perfect. With the veil removed as arranged, they would have all seen she was a teacher. That stupid lump of a girl had ruined her plan. Humiliating the damn teacher didn't matter, Angela wanted her identified, to ruin her reputation and split them apart.

"If you want a job done properly, you've got to do it yourself," Angela intoned. 

Hollie was mortified. Everyone was silent at first. As she scrabbled to stand up, and made her way through the crowd, they began to recover. They called her all sorts of vile names. They offered to buy her for a quick one. Though, the girls were the worst, calling her a slut and a whore. Some were sympathetic, a mere handful. 

In shocked bewilderment Hollie made it back to her master. He took one look and wrapped his jacket around her perfect naked body. It wasn't so obvious once off the dance floor. Word spread quickly, with whispers growing louder. Roger cared nothing for anyone except his slave.

He whisked her away, driving home, back to the safety of their private world. He made her a strong coffee and stroked her hair. She was curled up on his lap, no longer crying. 

"You alight now?" Roger asked. "They don't know who you are. They think you're a hooker from town," he added.

Hollie wanted to laugh. How terrible was it when she preferred to be mistaken for a hooker, rather than a respectable teacher. 

"Don't make me go out master, please. Keep me here, keep me safe. I need to be controlled and mastered, please," Hollie implored him. There were no second thoughts. She was desperate for his protection.

"I'll keep you here as my slave girl for ever," he sincerely stated. 

"Do you promise, master," she asked, with big doleful eyes. 

"I promise to keep you as my slave for ever," he said, and tenderly kissed her lips. He cupped her face in both hands as though shielding her from the world. There was just her sad disembodied face in the dark. 

She looked up at him, seeing just her master's face close to hers, with nothing else in her blinkered vision.

"Your contract is ended at school, so you don't have to go back there to face them. The apartment lease has been terminated and your things are in storage. There is nowhere to go, so you can stay here with your master. I'll look after you Cindy," he softly spoke.

It took awhile for it to sink in. He had changed her life, the one here that they secretly shared. He had gradually taken control of her here, and in school. Now everything else in her life had been organised by him, so there was nowhere to escape to. He had her firmly trapped as a slave girl. A warning phrase her mother had used came to mind -- be careful what you wish for. 

Where would she go when his parents returned, if he really had got rid of her apartment? Why was her contract terminated?

"What happens when your parents return, next week?" she cautiously asked. 

"They won't be returning. Didn't I tell you? My father has taken the position, running a bank in London. They spend their free time exploring Europe. They won't be back this year, maybe not next year either," he told her.

She had pleaded with him to keep her safe, now he was going to just keep her. She was now just a pretty object he owned, something for the boy to play with. She had been worried about her state of mind after two full weeks with him. What in hell would she be like in a year's time?

All the fight in her had been knocked out earlier this evening. She couldn't think straight. She nestled into his arms, feeling warm and snug in his embrace. It would all work out in the end.

"Don't fall sleep here. I'll carry you to bed," her master said.

She smiled pleasantly, thinking there were distinct advantages to being a slave girl.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 12



After the party

Hollie got up early with time alone to think. Last night Roger made tender love to her, leaving her feeling like a princess rather than a slave. Perhaps not a princess, as she was wearing chains. The love making had been deeply satisfying, and dirty. She remembered screaming obscenities at one point, which were certainly not lady like.

She needed to stop playing at being a slave! She felt trapped in a vicious circle, which was tightening around her more effectively than the chains. The longer she remained this boys slave, the more she left moral decisions to him. Abandoning her morals meant she was free to behave like a slut. As a slut she needed to be his sex slave, and so it went on in ever decreasing circles.

With so many close calls, there had been enough warnings to stop this madness. Promising Roger to be his slave for life was going too far. It must end today!

"You're dressed, Cindy," Roger said in surprise. The modest dress didn't hide the slave collar, though her name tag was tucked in out of sight.

"Yes master," Hollie demurely answered. She dare not upset him for she needed the chains to be removed and a lift to the apartment. Being dependent upon him didn't help.

"Why?" he asked.

"I need a lift to my apartment," she quietly said.

"You said you needed to stay with me. You even promised to be my faithful slave," he calmly stated.

"I can't," she said; trembling like a leaf. She stood away from him, not daring to get close.

"What's the matter, Cindy?" he soothingly spoke.

"I keep getting into dangerous situations," she started to explain. 

It wasn't right to say he got her into them. He was only eighteen, and she was twenty-six. She was a responsible teacher and an experienced woman. It wasn't his fault she was getting carried away on an appalling need to be humiliated. 

"It's not your fault," she started again, and faltered. 

It sounded like a familiar line, when breaking up with a boyfriend. This had been more intense and exciting than that kind of relationship. She had felt more alive than at any time in her whole life. It was too powerful to handle, otherwise she might have said it was enjoyable. It was sometimes, lots of the time.

"I'm afraid. Afraid of what's happening to me," she said, knowing the truth had been reached at last.

"I've been called Cindy so often I'm beginning to forget my name," she blustered, groping for an explanation.

"I'll look after you, Cindy. I can and I will. You will be my slave, with nothing to worry about, nothing at all," Roger said, while moving slowly toward her.

"Please don't touch me, I'll be lost if you do," she groaned. 

He stopped right in front of her, allowing her to continue. "Tell me, tell me everything," he encouraged.

For a moment she hesitated. As though a gag had been removed the words came tumbling out. Not always in the right order, and even when they were, they didn't always make sense, though everything had an intense meaning. 

As though completing a marathon she began running out of puff. She took a deep breath looking at Roger with a seriously worried look. She had told him everything, all her worries and fears. She felt pathetic, for it was her own fault for getting into this strange predicament.

"I've become an uncontrollable slut. I'm so easily aroused to the point of, well, you know what happens. I feel as though my whole life is out of control," she sighed, signalling an end of the outpouring. It was only then she realised they were sitting on the sofa together.

"I'll control you, and I'll master you, Cindy. You asked me to remember?" Roger reminded her.

"It's not right. Yes, I enjoyed some, a lot of what happened. It has been the most stimulating time of my life," she admitted, and took a deep breath. "You did the most wonderful things to me, I can't bring myself to describe," she solemnly stated. "I've got to go, or I'll never recover. Please, let me go, and wish me well. I don't want to sneak away while you're out," she moaned.

"I can't let you go! Anyway, there's no where for you to go now," he said, shrugging his shoulders. Roger closely looked at her face, seeing a growing determination. Without saying a word, he made up his mind. She must have seen it in his eyes, for she made to get up, and to at least put some space between them.

He grabbed the chains and collar. Pulled her over his knee and tightened the chains. She was wearing a full Sirik, something new. It took awhile, as she was struggling, and not playfully like last night. 

"Please, let me go! I can't stay like this, please master. I'll visit you, honest, just let me have some time alone. I'm falling into being a real slave, I can't think straight with all these things you do to me," Hollie shouted.

"Keep still!" Roger said, and slapped her bottom.

"Let me go!" she yelled, while kicking at him. Her hands were tight together behind her back, so all she could do was ineffectively wave her legs around.

Eventually he had the chains tight about her body, pulling her limbs into a hog-tie position. They had played at it before, now it was for real. She was his prisoner.

"Please Roger, let me go!" Hollie complained. She couldn't get angry with him, nor could she be fearful, knowing him so well. This had been fun before, but now she needed to escape, before it was too late.

"Please master, if you love me you'll let me go. Just for a few days. I promise to come back to you. I'm afraid of what's happening to me. I've changed. I used to be a nice girl, now I'm a slut. I can't help it. I'm juicing all the time. Oh! Hell! I am now," she whined.

Roger put his hand between her legs and wiped her smooth engorged sex. He put his hand under nose, cupping her chin, preventing her from turning away. 

"Smell your arousal, Cindy. Lick it from my hand," he ordered.

"Yes, master, sorry master," Hollie stammered.

"You are a sexy slut, always ready for sex. You need your master to control you and look after you," he soothed.

Hollie felt the chains tight about her body, feeling physically controlled as well as mentally.

"Please, master. Will you let me go, for a rest? If I stay in my apartment and lock the door, I won't speak to anyone, I promise," Hollie urgently pleaded.

"I wasn't joking when I told you. I've cancelled the lease on your apartment and all your belongings are in storage," he told her.

Hollie jerked her whole body around, trying to roll off his lap. 

"No! How could you? Please tell me it's not true. How do you expect me to return to school like this in the fall? I need somewhere to be alone and recuperate. I'm your teacher, I have responsibilities, I can't live here," Hollie squeaked, as her voice nearly gave up. 

She was trying to ignore the chains and that she was laying naked over a students lap. She couldn't give up now. She would have to stand up to him, though that could only be achieved with words. The chains wouldn't budge, but she was determined to move him into set her free.

"An email has been sent with your resignation to the school, and they have accepted it," he stated.

"No! No! No! You can't do this to me! You've taken away my job, my apartment, everything has gone. My life is fading away to nothing. What have you done to me?" Hollie wailed in anguish. The thrashing of her body slowed as her breathing laboured heavily. 

It was difficult to keep his teacher in place over his lap, but at least she was tiring. He decided to hit her with the rest.

"You know what I've done to you, Cindy. I've made you my slave. This morning I'm going to close your bank accounts and tidy up loose ends," Roger explained. He felt her stiffen, and the sound of a pitiful cry was loud compared to his soft voice. 

"Master, please, no! Give me back my life. You've had your fun, we both have. It was just a game, and it's got to end now. Please let me go. I was your teacher, and you've taken everything away. You've gone too far, this has got to stop. You won't get away with it," Hollie pleaded with all the feeling she had left. 

Her mind was becoming numb with shock. At every step along the route to this she had meant to end the game. She thought he was just a young guy playing around with an older woman, but this was going too far. She was afraid he might get away with it. She lay exhausted over his knee, feeling humiliated from being helpless, in chains, reduced to being this young guys slave.

"Your neighbours think you're going travelling, not that they cared much. The school thinks you're going back to your home town. You were only here one term, so they will forget you soon enough," Roger sternly informed her.

He was a clever student and so it shouldn't have been a surprise that he had planned it all so well. Her young lover had trapped her with wonderful sex, and now he had captured her as a slave.

Hollie was breathing heavily, and was rubbing her thighs together. She rubbed her breasts on his knee, pinching her nipples on the piercing rings. Roger idly turned the large hoop earrings, while calmly explaining the position.

She was held by the Sirik gripping her body in a tight embrace. Her movements were limited, and frantic. He knew the signs so well, she was desperate to orgasm.

"The slave collar is permanent, and so are you. Renew your promise, to your master, Cindy," Roger demanded.

"Please let me cum," Hollie protested. "I need to cum, please Roger," Hollie screeched. 

It was a surprise to hear his name spoken after such a long time being called master. He slapped her bare bottom, and felt her whole body quiver. 

"You forget yourself, slave," he warned her.

"Sorry master. Your slave needs to cum master, please!" Hollie plaintively screeched. 

"What are you, Cindy?" he asked.

"Cindy is just a slave, and needs her master. Cindy belongs to master. Cindy is a permanent slave girl, forever," Hollie promised. "Please, master, let Cindy cum!" she wailed.

He pulled on the piercing rings in her sex, twisting them, eliciting delightful twinges of pain. Feeling his fingers play her tune brought her closer to the edge of a massive orgasm. She yelped with delight knowing her master was playing her like a musical instrument. She was a highly strung violin, vibrating with passion.

A finger was circling her asshole, tuning it up, as though it were a glass. Her wailing voice sounded brittle, ready to crack. Fingers were pressing and stroking her clit, drumming vibrations into her belly. A hand cupped her breast, pinching the nipple and piercing rings.

He kissed and licked her back, biting upon her cheeks. Her whole body was in a crescendo, so very near exploding. Her mouth was wide open panting a moaning song of need. Her body was an orchestra of sensation and he was the conductor, in complete control of her performance.

She desperately needed the finale, though wanted the intense feelings to last forever. As though her whole being overlooked a precipice she hovered at a peak in the performance. Panting guttural sounds she tried to shout, I'm there, I'm going to cum,' only the song was just a wail. It was a Pink Floyd track, with vibrato.

It was no electrical storm, with flashing lights and distant booms. She fell. Into the chasm her body crashed. It closed in on her pulling the universe in with her, so nothing existed except the orgasm. It sucked the life from her body, in a mini-death. Blackness.

A re-birth, alive and breathing, she sucked in air. The touches to her body seemed far away, and were pleasant, less intense. Nice feelings, nice sensations, as the world around her became focused.

As she sobbed he held her tight, kissing her tears and stroking her hair. She had wished for him to keep her safe, now he got to keep her. 

She felt her resistance floating away, leaving a familiar warm glow of freedom. It was true. She need not worry about anything at all, while being Cindy the slave girl. She was re-born, as Cindy, into a new exciting world. Still bound tight by the Sirik, she was helpless as a new born baby.

"You must have enjoyed that, you squirted over my trousers," Roger laughed.

Hollie lay across his lap, slowly recovering. He moved her along the sofa, so her head was in his lap. "Lick them clean, squirt girl," he smiled, and kissed the nape of her neck.

He undid his fly and pulled his hard cock out. He lifted her head, letting it slide down its length, into his groin. She could hardly move her head so he began to move his hips up and down, fucking her face, as though she were a sex doll.

Hollie knew when she was beaten, so gave in. There would be another opportunity, and would have to plan her escape more thoroughly next time.



Hollie and Roger settled down together as master and slave. As young irresponsible lovers they played games and chased around like happy carefree youths. Hollie was always the one to be chased and caught. Being caught, while pretending to be a runaway slave, was delicious. She never knew if the punishment was to be a long slow sexual adventure, or a spanking and a hard fucking. Either way she revelled in the freedom from worrying if it was right or wrong, for her master decided everything.

Like ordinary people they shopped for groceries. Under the casual dress she wore chains as a reminder of what she was. The Sirik was kept for home attire. The naughty secret, while pushing a trolley like everyone else, was a thrill. 

When the excitement got too much for her, she would bend over in a store to flash her bare ass. Sometimes she would lift up the dress to show off the chains and her closely shaved pussy. Everyday tasks were fun and exciting. Even cleaning house was made into a game, while naked and being teased by him. He would run his hands over her body, sensitising it then leave her to get on with the chores. Keeping her in a state of arousal was cruel and exciting. Eventually she would beg her master to fuck his cunt.

Hollie ran to the door to answer it, keen for him to see how she had re-arranged the furniture. He had been up at the main house checking everything was being taken care of by the cleaner, and to read through the mail. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She quickly stooped over trying to hide her naked body as best she could. The gardener stood before her staring. 

"Is Roger there, Cindy, I need to speak to him," Benny asked. He didn't turn away. Instead he just smiled at the naked young girl, who looked surprised and embarrassed. "We knew he had a girlfriend, but not such a beauty," the guy teased.

Hollie turned, flashing her bare ass at him, before remembering her master was up at the main house. "My, err, he's at the house," Hollie stammered.

"Stand up straight girl, you'll get a stoop bent over like that," he sternly said. He was smiling revealing it was just a joke.

"Sorry sir," Hollie replied, and stood up with arms at her sides. She immediately reacted to his tone of voice without thinking. Her face flushed red, and she could feel the warmth spread down her neck to her breasts. Her feet crossed themselves as she pulled her thighs together.

She looked down in a demure pose, if that was possible while being naked before a stranger. She looked and felt like a naughty girl, having lost the teacher's authoritative persona completely.

Benny's smile rapidly faded. He looked around as though he might be in trouble. He had only been joking, not expecting the young girl to do it. Rather, he thought she would bolt inside, to run away from him. He just wanted a better look at her beautiful heart shaped ass. 

"Turn around, lets take a look at you," he firmly said.

Hollie was in turmoil. She knew this was wrong, but couldn't help obeying a firm voice, as though it were a command. For the last week they had thoroughly lived the relationship of master and slave, leaving her defenceless. Besides, she was evidently a naked slave girl, so had to obey. 

She turned around slowly while he ogled her perfect smooth skin. Everything was agonisingly on show to him. He was around the same age, yet she felt like a young teen, meaning the older man had authority over her. Obeying an adult was automatic, so she had to give in to him. 

Benny thought he might have a heart attack, with his pulse racing so fast, and the thumping in his chest. He had never seen anything so beautiful, almost beyond sexual. If she had been dressed he might have lusted over her, knowing she was beyond him; way out of his class. 

She was naked and vulnerable, looking like an innocent angel. It gave him a nervous twitch as well as a hard on. Despite the hardness in his dirty jeans he had to leave, before he broke the spell she seemed to be in. She might scream and get him in trouble.

"I'll go to the house then," he mumbled. Looking back over his shoulder he intently watched her. She backed away inside, head still down, and closed the door. The image of a golden angel was burnt into his retina and mind. His feet took him back to the garden shed, where he had to relieve the aching lump in his jeans.

Safely inside their private world Hollie giggled. She felt naughty and mischievous. She also felt sorry for the poor guy.

They were sitting outside a restaurant and bar, enjoying the sun, with a glass of juice. They were quietly watching ordinary, boring people walk by. They made up stories about the couples. 

"Look at the way she's talking to him, she's obviously his slave," Roger smiled.

"Those two have been at it all day by the way her hair looks," Hollie laughed.

"Hi Cindy, would you like a top up?" the young waitress asked.

The waitress was younger, though Hollie deferred to her, acting out the age she felt.

Seeing a couple drinking wine, reminded Hollie she could go to the bar. Her master couldn't, so they were restricted to soft drinks. Not that it mattered. She didn't have Id on her, so wouldn't get very far, especially as she was dressed like a teen. 

"You two look happy," the woman said. She was standing over them waiting for her husband. "Make the most of it while you can, these are the best years of your life," she mused. "A sweet name, Candy," she laughed. 

"My name's Cindy," Hollie corrected her. 

"Well, you look after your Cindy doll, young man. She looks a cute little thing," the woman said. 

Her foot caught on a table leg, and she swayed slowly forward. Neither she nor Roger could react fast enough, though it looked to be happening in slow motion. A large pair of soft breasts land in Rogers face. It felt as though he was in a pillow fight. 

His nose was in her deep cleavage, almost smothering him. He put his hands on her hips and eased her back. He wanted to smile at her but kept his face straight.

"Sorry, I guess I'm a bit top heavy," she chuckled. "Stay off the wine until after dinner," she advised. 

Hollie wanted to push the stupid woman off the high heels onto her ass. As though the weather god read her mind, a gusting breeze lifted the colourful dress up around her hips. The woman swayed but didn't fall. For a moment the hem was held there, showing off a pair of long shapely legs. The white triangle of panties was framed, by a corset with black straps pulling taught on stocking tops.

Seeing Roger's smile of appreciation, Hollie looked at the hour glass figure with envy. She was top heavy but carried it well. If she had been blonde the woman could have been a Munroe pin up. 

"Don't envy these, little girl. They are a nuisance. You have your youth and your beautiful skin, and a full life ahead of you," she smiled at Hollie. She patted Hollie on the head, not meaning to be patronising. 

Hollie was trying to think of something witty to say, to assert herself. It was so difficult having become used to obeying orders. The woman's husband led her away before Hollie could be more deeply embarrassed. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 12



Hollie had already lost the influence of adulthood, and the respect it brought. She felt as though she were small and powerless. She was becoming just a kid, dependant on parents for everything, except it was her master who controlled her. 

He bought her clothes, decided what she was to wear, and if she could wear anything at all. She was sitting in a public place without panties, wearing chains because her master had ordained it. Her master decided every detail of her life, when she went to bed, what she ate, how to fix her hair and make-up.

For a moment she couldn't remember her name. She wondered where her Id was, as well as all the other important papers usually carted around. She didn't have a credit card or even a bank account any more. A sense of being nobody, just a slave, took a hold of her. She shook her head and smiled at her master. A sense of freedom washed away the vague anxiety.

That night they had a long, exhausting sexual session, and fell into a deep sleep. Hollie murmured, with eyelids flickering. Her legs kicked out, and caught in the sheets.

***

Applying for a replacement driving licence was necessary for Id. She looked under twenty-one, despite being five years older. The man at the counter asked her name.

"Cindy, Slave," she answered. Before she could stop herself she had blurted it out. She tried to make it into a joke, but what had her name been? It just wouldn't come to mind. She stood there looking sheepish.

The officious man was standing before her looking fierce. 

"Are you a runaway slave?" he asked. 

Everyone was looking at her. She felt embarrassed, and most of all she felt guilty. Had she tried to get a driving licence to regain her old life? Was she intending to run away from her wonderful master?

"As a runaway slave you will be publicly thrashed, and returned to your master," he intoned. 

The well built man had a look of expectation on his face, delighted at the prospect of thrashing her. Why hadn't she stayed by her master's side where she belonged, safe and comfortable? She only wanted some Id so she could buy a drink, and feel like an adult again. 

Suddenly she was in the back office naked, turning around, being examined by the strong powerful man and his colleagues. Her arms were tied behind her back, forcing her breasts out.

"Look at those slutty hoop earrings, and all those piercings. What's this? A gaping asshole! You must be a slut slave," he knowingly intoned, bringing forth a round of laughter from the others.

"Yes sir, I'm a dirty slut, sir," Hollie demurely answered. 

"Look at how aroused you are slave. Go on, look at your nipples, slut slave," he told her. 

Hollie was shocked as they had grown enormous, so the big piercing rings looked small. As she looked down at them they continued to grow like accusing fingers.

"You are a dirty slut. Just look how wet she is," he said, to the crowd of men around her.

In front of everyone he scooped up a dollop of her juices. He held out a wet glistening hand, to show everyone what a bad slut she was. Being naked and humiliated in front of them all, had her juiced up beyond control. It proved she needed her master, and that she needed to be thrashed.

"Lick my fingers clean, you dirty slut slave," the man heavily scorned her. 

With whimpers of shame Hollie licked and sucked on his fingers, tasting her bitter sex juices. 

"Sorry sir! This slave used to be a teacher, so knows how to behave properly, honest sir. If you would let slave go back to my master, slave will be a good little girl from now on," Hollie pleaded. She felt herself shrinking before them, yet her breasts and the piercing rings remained the same size, seeming to be so big. She had a deep cleavage, with big pillows for breasts, which threatened to topple her over.

"You're trying to wriggle out of your punishment, you naughty little slut slave. It won't work, because you can't pretend to be an innocent little girl. You were a teacher and should know better than to behave like a slut. You are to be punished for trying to run away from your master," the big man told her. 

He bent her over a desk and she recognised it as the school principal's desk, complete with name block in gold letters. She looked over her shoulder to see him frowning at her. All the teachers were there looking angry, or was it aroused? Hollie prepared herself for a thorough thrashing.

"I promise not to run away again, sir. Please don't thrash me! I'll try real hard to be a good little slave girl. I'll obey my master, and be his faithful, little slave girl, honest sir," Hollie pathetically promised.

She felt a leather belt strike he bare cheeks. She could feel a broad stripe of pain searing her bottom.

"Please sir, I'll do anything, please don't thrash me," Hollie wailed. 

"Perhaps a thrashing could be avoided," he suggested. "I bet you could take us all up that gaping asshole of yours. You need it too, don't you dirty slut?" he laughed.

"Yes, sir," Hollie whimpered.

"Tell us then," he demanded.

"Please sir, slut slave needs all your big cocks up her asshole, to teach slut slave a lesson not to stray from her master. Please fuck this dirty little slave's asshole sir," Hollie whimpered.

She knew it was wrong. Her virgin asshole belonged to her master, but couldn't help giving in to this strong man. She was helpless to avoid anything they decided to do to her. She was ready to submit to them all. Over her shoulder she watched them unzip, and gasped. They had huge cocks, like the guy in fancy dress, at the student party. 

She couldn't let them ruin her asshole for her master. She tried to pull away from the desk, but with her little body she couldn't lift the weight of the gigantic breasts. She was stuck bent over, with legs apart, ready for them. She couldn't let them spurt gallons of cum up her bottom. She felt an oversize cock nudge the cleft of her bottom, and screamed. No sound was heard, for she was suddenly wearing a gag. 

***

Hollie was thrashing around, and woke up in a sweat. A little bleating noise of fear escaped her throat. She pulled the pillow from her head, and the sheet that had twisted between her legs. 

She needed the comfort of her master, yet couldn't bring herself to wake him. Instead she slid down under the covers to his cock. She sucked him into her mouth for comfort. 

"Slave will never leave master's side. I'm your slut slave master. Slave promises faithfully to be yours, forever," she murmured from around his comforter, and fell asleep.

A few days went by, making it two weeks since the party. The time spent enabled them to settle into a comfortable routine. It was a honeymoon period, where everything would suddenly come to a halt, for a session of passionate love making, wherever they happened to be. 

Hollie was vacuuming the bedroom, as she hadn't entirely become adolescent and irresponsible. 

Roger answered the door. "Hello, Sir," Roger said, as the imposing man walked in. 

"Your parents wanted me to check up on you. Hope you appreciate my candour, especially as I can see how well you are doing," Nathanial said. He was looking at the history text books open on the table. 

"Your results were good, and you haven't been in trouble, or at least you haven't been caught," he smiled.

"Thanks, I appreciate you telling me," Roger said. 

"They told me you keep putting off visiting them. I can't understand a young man's reluctance to visit London. You'll find it a lot more liberal than here. You can drink at eighteen, and the young people really know how to have a good time," Nathanial said, with a wistful look in his eyes.

Roger heard the vacuum dying and wondered if he should warn Hollie. It was difficult to move under the man's appraisal. Roger was being judged, and a good report to his parents would solve a big problem, or certainly put it off for awhile.

Hollie walked into the kitchen untying an apron, and draped it over the back of a chair. She poured a cup of coffee, and placed it on a tray to serve her master. 

Roger was about to offer him a coffee, so that he could escape to warn Hollie. He hoped she heard they had a visitor, and was lying low.

Hollie walked in, and both men's heads turned in unison. Roger blinked rapidly, wondering how to explain her presence.

Hollie stood still, though the momentum of her entrance took her into the middle of the room. She stood naked, halfway to her master's side. 'Oh! Shit!' she thought.

Nathanial looked at the naked girl, noting she vibrated with hesitation; trying to decide whether to run or brazen it out. He was a diplomat, used to dealing with sudden, unexpected situations, so easily sat without revealing his thoughts. He noted she wore a collar with a name tag. 

"Nice collar," Nathanial pointedly commented.

Roger was about to say something, even if it was just an introduction. He could hardly introduce her as his history teacher. The books were open before him, so maybe he should explain he was receiving extra tuition. By the way, had you noticed she's a naturist, so doesn't wear clothes? She's also a member of a strict society, believing men should be deferred to, that's why she brought me a coffee.

"Would you like a coffee, sir," Roger weakly asked. His head inclined toward their visitor, while Hollie stared at him, waiting for instructions. 

Hollie could hardly move. Her foot rose off the carpet as though sealed to it with molasses. Concentrating exaggerated effort on the tray, trying not to spill anything, she moved one foot in front of the other. It was difficult, but she blanked her mind, trying to act as though nothing was out of place.

It seemed an age and a half, though she eventually stood before the man, slightly bent with the tray held level, offering him a coffee. Her breasts were caught on its edge, with swollen ripe nipples, looking like a midmorning treat. The stranger didn't comment or leer, he contrived not to notice.

He took the coffee, leaving the special treats untouched on the tray. He watched her straighten and glide to Roger's side, admiring her pert bottom. She stood elegantly poised, with shoulders back, holding her breasts up and out. With legs slightly apart, she stared ahead, waiting for a command.

Her mind was in a whirl with fear. The confusion was best dealt with on automatic, behaving as she had been taught over the last few weeks. She was a slave named Cindy, and retreated into the role. The convenience of being a slave meant leaving her master with the responsibility of explaining everything.

"I must compliment you Roger. Such a well trained slave is a precious object, as I am sure you appreciate," Nathanial said. "You must look after your slave. That is the first rule and most important one. Your father isn't a member of our exclusive club, so where did you learn to be a master?" Nathanial asked.

Hollie sighed quietly upon realising this wasn't his father.

"I picked up a lot of information from the internet, sir. As you can see it has worked well," Roger explained. A certain pride sounded in his voice, and he looked up at Hollie, with a discreet smile.

"I see. You will have to be careful, young man. It is a big responsibility. I have a lot of experience in these matters, so please feel free to call if you need advice. I can introduce you to a private club. It is sometimes good to share experiences with others," Nathanial told him.

"Thank you sir," Roger said. 

"I shan't mention this to your parents. I'll leave that to you. Don't worry about your father, as he has dabbled in such arrangements in the past. You will have to ask him about that, as it isn't for me to elaborate. So don't ask. I just want you to feel able to tell him, rather than go behind his back," Nathanial explained.

"Your father and I had a lot of fun together on leaving university. I see you have started early," he smiled. "When you have had your fun, perhaps you would consider getting to know my daughter, not in the same way of course," he quickly added.

Roger looked embarrassed, from knowing what the man meant. "Thank you sir," Roger quietly said. This was all news to him. He was surprised about Nathanial, and the revelation about his father shook him.

"I'll leave you to it, lots of things to do," Nathanial said. 

In a daze Roger saw the family friend to the door. A chauffeur was waiting and quickly jumped to open a passenger door. 

"Don't put off visiting your parents. They are already wondering what's keeping you here," Nathanial warned him. "By the way, my daughter sends her regards," he said and got in the car.

Roger was rather pleased with himself. It seemed he had joined an exclusive club, among the rich and influential people of the world. 

"Well! That went better than expected," Roger announced. 

Hollie was still standing where he had left her. Absorbing the information left her feeling afraid. The man was obviously powerful and influential, as well as being a family friend. He had referred to her as an object, not once speaking to her, or even acknowledging her. If this man and her master's father accepted the relationship, she was doomed.

Her master had been right, there wasn't anyone out there waiting for her. No employer expected her to turn up after the school vacation. Neither colleagues, friends or family were waiting for news of her so called travels. She couldn't even rely on his parents to make him see sense. As far as that man was concerned, she was a slave. He even expected her master's father to accept the relationship. It left her with little hope of escaping.

"Everything is working out well, Cindy," Roger laughed.

"Yes master," she automatically replied. 

Hollie was quiet for the rest of the day. Roger was looking at a magazine, wondering if they should see a movie, or just go out somewhere. He enjoyed just sitting in a public place, as it felt as though he were showing off his slave to the world. It was mischievous dressing her in discreet chains, yet showing off the slave collar. 

He always made sure the slave name tag was on public display. It reinforced her position when strangers called her by her slave name, Cindy. He looked at the attractive woman, thinking it was hard to believe she had been his teacher. She was his obedient slave girl now. 

She even looked like a young girl, rather than a mature woman. The way she stood and held her head, marked her as his young girlfriend when they were out. People didn't suspect she had been a responsible woman, teaching history at the local high school. Even if they had known her they wouldn't recognise her. As a teenager she received just a cursory glance.

Roger was excited, yet concerned with how he should approach his father. This preoccupation meant he hadn't noticed his slave's quiet mood. They went to a movie, choosing a romantic comedy on the spur of the moment.

His slave was in a compliant mood, so he decided to confirm their relationship. Pulling into the familiar mall, he noticed she began to get fidgety. She said nothing when they walked into the tattoo parlour. She was probably expecting the unpleasant prospect of another piercing. 

He thought about someone's suggestion of having her tongue pierced, though there was something more urgent than that. Sitting in the chair she looked wary, almost rebellious. 

"I was thinking of having my slaves tongue pierced," he said. 

"Up to you, Roger," Joe commented, looking over what he thought was a young girlfriend. 

Hollie was used to being eyed up, while being dressed like a teenager. Most people ignored her, dismissing her as a youngster. Young guys eyed her up, sometimes trying to gain her attention, even though she was with her master. She didn't like this guy, or what he did to her either.

"Please master," she said, looking at him with pleading eyes. 

Unlike the big loop earrings, which could be removed, a pierced tongue would be hard to hide. She sighed heavily. All the piercings would heal eventually, if she could somehow remove them. The damn machine sealed the steel loops together, when it pierced her body. 

Surely he would eventually grow tired of dragging a slave around all the time. She remembered that his father had, and evidently got married. Once free she could look into having them removed. It gave her some hope to think about it. 

"Please, master, not your slaves tongue, please," she whined, hoping to dissuade him.

"You've tamed Cindy a lot since first here," Joe commented.

Hollie knew that was true. She remembered their first time here, when it was all just a game. Before that, being a slave hadn't been contemplated. It had just been a sexy fling, something to wither, leaving pleasant memories.

"Your master wants his slave to be happy. A discreet tattoo then," Roger teased. 

This was worse! What was next, breast implants? 

"Master, please," she tried to say no, but couldn't use the word to her master.

"A number, that's all. I registered you on-line as my slave, and received your number," he smiled. He stroked her hair, an ear and neck. She nuzzled his hand, trying to win his favour.

She wanted to ask where, but was too frightened to ask. Ever since that powerful man visited she had felt all hope drain away. She felt like a permanent slave, a condition to be endured forever. Could it ever be fun again?

As ordered she lifted the dress up around her hips. The awful guy leered at her naked body, as usual. She hated the sweaty guy looking at her, let alone touching her intimately. 

"She's closely shaved, so it'll be easy," Joe conceded. 

It tickled at first then became painful. It didn't seem to be just a number, as it went on for too long. She kept her eyes shut the whole time, gripping tightly onto the arms of the chair. 

The old leather dentist chair reminded her of innocent times. It was a way of distancing herself from what was going on. She had a crush on the young dentist who fitted her braces. She daringly let her skirt ride up, showing off her slander thighs. She couldn't tell if he noticed, as she also had her eyes tightly closed back then. 

With his fingers in her mouth it unaccountably heated her up. It was something to do with a man entering her body. Something naughty was going on in her imagination, though she hadn't known what it was at the time. Her legs fell open and she became sopping wet. Afterwards she hoped he hadn't noticed her bad behaviour, or that musky odour. 

She couldn't look at him without brightly blushing.

"It's over, Cindy," Roger announced. 

"She's soaking wet as usual," Joe laughed. "Does everything turn the slut on?" Joe asked, not expecting an answer. He assumed she was just another pain slut.



That was her ordeal for the day over and done with. At home she undressed, yet was too nervous to look in a mirror. She squatted at her master's feet, in the usual position. Head up, with a straight back thrusting out her breasts, looking proud to be his slave. 

He lent down to peer between her splayed thighs. He was taking a close look at her mons. Across the soft flesh the tattoo still stung and tingled, not letting her forget she had been branded as a slave.

"It's clearer now, he did a good neat job. 'Slave girl # 47249'," he said, reading her sex.

Hollie sighed heavily. It was yet another turn in the ever tightening circle, twisting firmly about her mind. She was deeply ensnared, as a slave chained to her master, in mind and body.

She was an object now. How much was she worth? In Marxist terms it amounted to the labour of those who made her. The Keynesian value was what a balanced market could stand. Otherwise it was what someone was prepared to pay for her in an auction. Would her master put her into a slave auction to find this objects true value?

The helplessness of her position heated her up. The humiliation of being branded a slave aroused her. The branding and the collar were for ever! She wanted to lie prostrate at his feet begging to be taken. She needn't worry; he had a satisfactory looking erection in his jeans. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 12



When he slid off the sofa, naked, she knew he was going to make love to her. It wasn't just sex, something needed to satisfy their lust. It was going to be a bringing close of two bodies, trying to meld into one. A soft keening noise vibrated from deep in her throat. Her whole body craved to be in his arms.

He held onto her, kissing her face, not letting her touch him. He worked his way down her chest to her nipples and pulled on them with his lips. The piecing rings and as much of her breast as possible was sucked into his mouth. She pushed her head back and groaned a low, long sound of anticipation.

Her master moved her limbs out so she was laying flat on the floor. He manoeuvred around her, kissing and licking her body. He stopped to kiss the palm of her hand, setting her free. At first she stroked her master's body. 

Feeling his kisses reach her protruding lips she had to mirror his actions. She took a hold of his magnificent cock in both hands, and kissed it gently on the head. As he sucked she sucked. As he bit she bit. His hands stroked her thighs, while he sucked her whole sex into his mouth.

Hollie cupped his balls, and stroked his cock. She sucked it into her mouth to lovingly lick and suck on it. She could feel him ready to cum. She would have preferred to have him shoot into her vagina, but wherever and however her master wanted her she was prepared to accept. It would be her duty and her desire.

He pulled away from her to lie back on the carpet, panting heavily. He manoeuvred around her to kiss her face. He bit upon her lips and at the same time murmured sweet words to her. All she could say was the one word, over and over, 'master'.

He slowly entered a more than ready body. For her it was agonising, for she needed him to plunge in, desperate to feel full of her master's cock. For him it was necessary to take it easy, or he might orgasm too soon. Slowly he penetrated her, inch by inch. 

When she felt him all the way in, his pelvis pressing hers, she let out a wail. As though in pain, she shrieked an animal sound of pleasure. It couldn't be held back any longer, she climaxed.

Feeling him more vigorously fuck her master's cunt, kept her going. She was soon riding a greater high, not expecting it to be possible. He spurted deeply into her with a groan of satisfaction. She lay back accepting all he had to give.

Hollie felt herself soaring, flying free. How much was the price of youth? Her master was keeping her young, and freed her from every worry in the world.



Four weeks of pleasure passed since the student party. Their relationship became firmly established, but like all good things it had to have an interruption. Again Nathanial called.

"It can't be avoided, Roger. Your parents have demanded your presence, and can't be held off any longer. Yes, I've informed them you are managing your affairs admirably. They sent the tickets as a fait accompli. They want you on that plane. The only problem I see is what to do with the slave," he stated.

"I'm not sure. I can't leave her here, alone," he said looking worried.

"I could look after her. Keep her safe for your return. As I said, I have a great deal of experience. She would be well looked after by my wife and daughter. You know them both and can be rest assured the slave will be in safe hands. We have a large home, and will ensure she comes to no harm. It is the best option, Roger, perhaps the only one," he said.

Roger nodded his head, while trying to think of an alternative. He looked at the ticket to Europe in his hands, knowing there was no alternative.

"Look at it as neutral ground, therefore better suited to approach your father. London is a more liberal place than here, so he has probably regained some of his youthful exuberance," Nathanial explained.

"He will probably be more susceptible to your new arrangements, more agreeable," Nathanial suggested.

"Yes, I suppose so," Roger agreed. 

He asked questions and clarified the rules for her care. The trusted family friend reassured him that his slave would be under his care. She would become a domestic slave, only, nothing more. He promised yet again to look after her.

Roger called his slave into the room. She knew something was going on. Her demeanour was anxious, almost ringing her hands with worry. 

"Please, master! Take me with you! Please don't leave me!" Hollie cried. 

Roger explained again how important it was to visit his parents. 

Hollie became angry with him, and remained defiantly quiet. If this was the way she was to be treated, abandoned like an old sock, he didn't deserve to be her master. Her thoughts crashed to a halt. It was exactly right! Wasn't this a way of escaping the madness she had fallen into?

"Yes, master, it is an opportunity. Sorry master, for making a fuss. Slave looks forward to her master's return," she quietly spoke, effectively biting back how she felt.

Nathanial was embarrassed over the emotional outburst. He was now satisfied with how well she had recovered.

"Very good," he said. "Messy farewells are best avoided I think. So, I wish you a bon voyage, and err, we must go," Nathanial announced.

Hollie was dressed modestly, yet felt small and fragile without her master in the imposing limousine. The important man was an experienced master so she felt anxious as to what would be expected of her. She had been informed he and his wife would look after her. 

He wouldn't have the same hold over her, so there was hope of escape.

They arrived at an imposing house, larger even than Roger's parent's home. Standing in the entrance hall she felt like a waif and stray, brought in as a lowly serving girl.

"In there!" he told her. "Don't worry, you'll soon settle in, then it will be time to return to your master," he wanly smiled.

Hollie stood with head down in his study. She had determined to behave like an obedient slave girl. When they least expected it she would make a break for freedom. Roger kept money n their home, which would be just enough until she got a job. Anything would do, until she could rebuild her life again.

At least she was free of Roger's influence. After a few days she might even get back to some sort of normality.

"Where's your mother?" Nathanial asked.

At first Hollie thought he was asking her a question. A sudden gasp from the doorway kept her quiet. It was either a servant's daughter or his. 

"I need your mother to take care of this slave," he sighed. "She needs to be fitted into our routine," he said.

Hollie dare not look up, playing at being a humble slave girl was so important. She knew by now how first impressions counted so much. He thought she was Roger's age, so everyone was sure to follow his lead. They would think it less likely that an adolescent was capable of escaping. 

She smiled to herself, knowing this was her greatest chance to free herself from Roger. A pang of regret was strong, but she would fight it. Tonight she would miss him, and cry herself to sleep. She was prepared for that, knowing it would become easier over the next few days.

"You had better take charge of the slave. Show it around the house and make it comfortable," Nathanial said. "Run along, both of you," he added.

With head down, Hollie walked to the door, where the young woman stood. It sounded as though he didn't want to bother with someone else's slave. If left with her and the mother, she would have a greater chance of escaping.

Following the young woman, she wondered if there might be the opportunity of stealing some money here as well taking what she was due from Rogers home. All sorts of ideas raced through her head.

At the top of the stairs, along a corridor, they entered a room. 

"At last!" the young woman gleefully yelped. 

Hollie looked up from her daydream, and rapidly blinked her eyes.

"Well teacher, what a nice surprise!" the young woman announced, with a big grin plastered across her face.

"Angela," Hollie softly stated.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 13



Angela

"Angela? What are you doing here?" Hollie asked. The initial shock from being suddenly confronted by the girl was wearing off. This student recognised her slave collar in school, and took advantage in an embarrassing way. Her father was in the master and slave scene, which explained why the young girl recognised the slave collar.

"He's your father downstairs isn't he," Hollie stated. She was still disconcerted to find the girl here. Hollie just hoped the father hadn't said too much, as it would be embarrassing for a student to know what she had been up to.

"Good, you're starting to get it," Angela smiled. The woman obviously didn't know how hard she had worked for this. Father wanted her to connect with Roger, and she wanted to please him. Besides that, it would look good in university being on the arm of a handsome hunk.

"You must be going out with a friend of my fathers," Angela deviously said.

"It's something like that. I need to get back to the apartment, for some things. Can you give me a ride?" Hollie asked.

Her heart was pounding from being so close to escape so quickly. With this girls help she could get back to Rogers place, and steal the money he kept. No, it wasn't stealing it was her money, from when he closed her bank accounts. Taking some extra, until she could pay him back could be justified.

Angela new the address Hollie wanted a lift to, as she had visited the house with her parents. She wondered why the woman wanted to go there and not her own apartment; she would have to store that question away for awhile. 

"What about those chains, wouldn't it be better to remove them first?" Angela sweetly asked.

"Yes, if they can be, that would be great," Hollie smiled back. Her head soared with a sense of release. She wanted to hug the girl, from being so overflowing with relief.

"Do you have a key?" Angela asked.

"I think your father has it. He has a package of things from, err, the friend. Can you get it?" Hollie told her, not daring to mention Roger's name. The girl probably didn't know about the two of them, and it was best to keep it that way. 

"Sorry, he would have put things like that in the safe. These chains are a full Sirik. They can be undone without a key, if I remember correctly," Angela thought out loud. "Not sure about the other set of chains. Aren't they uncomfortable?" Angela asked, sounding concerned.

Roger had put both sets of chains on her, emphasising the lowly status of slave. 

"I guess I'm used to them. They can be hidden under a dress, unlike the Sirik. If you can get the Sirik off, that would be great!" Hollie enthused, and blushed brightly. It was uncomfortable discussing with a young girl the chains connected to her nipples and sex.

The Sirik was attached to her slave collar, with two chains running down to wrist cuffs, and on down to ankle cuffs. It meant she couldn't run very fast, or pick things up very easily.

To save her blushes she concentrated on escaping. She couldn't wait to get out of the house to somewhere safe. She would have to break a window to get back into Rogers place, but she knew where the money was hidden. The plan was simply to get as far away as possible.

"You will need to remove the dress for me to get a good look at the chains. Sorry," Angela demurely suggested.

Hollie hesitated undressing in front of a student. She remembered being practically naked before the whole student year at the party. It seemed such a long time ago, though it still heated her up, just thinking about it.

"I guess its necessary, so as to get these dreadful chains off," Hollie smiled weakly, and shrugged.

Hollie lifted the dress over her head, and folded it neatly before laying it on a chair. She carefully covered her breasts, and stood awkwardly with one leg in front of the other, to cover her crotch. The chains disappeared into the top of her panties, obviously connecting to the large piercing rings showing through. 

The full force of how low she had sunk was bearing down upon her. She could only bear it because the girl was used to seeing slave chains. It took the sting out of the embarrassment of revealing her debauchery with Roger. 

Angela was looking away, trying to give her some privacy. 

"May I take a closer look at the chains?" Angela discreetly asked, while faking her embarrassment.

"OK. If you can get them off I'd be very grateful," Hollie softly replied. 

Angela wanted to ask how grateful. Would she be an orgasm inducing, pussy licking grateful, or just a heavy petting session grateful? She instead took a hold of the Sirik chain at the collar, running her fingers over it.

"In case the key is lost, this Sirik can be removed. The links at wrists and ankles need manipulating, that's all," Angela lightly announced. "Oops. Sorry!" Angela added. She realised she had pulled the other chains too hard, on seeing it pulling her teachers lips apart. 

Hollie cringed at the feel of the chain running over her bud, and pulling on her lips. It brought back the time in school when the girl played with her. It had been mortifying to become worked up by this young girl. She had been so powerless in her hands then, it should have been a warning to her now.

"This chain can be removed with the collar," Angela informed her.

"The collar as well? That's great. Can you do it for me?" Hollie asked.

"Yes, I think so. Shall we give it a try?" Angela brightly asked.

Hollie wanted to shout at the stupid girl to get on with it. Being so close to freedom was frustrating, as she had to suppress any show of excitement. She didn't want Angela to become suspicious and consult the father, as he would prevent her escaping.

"It's no good. It's designed to only be undone when the Sirik is fastened tight. I guess it's that way so the slave can't get it off by themselves. It's a clever design," Angela was saying.

Hollie shut her up, not wanting to hear a long explanation. 

"OK! Just tell me what I have to do!" Hollie impatiently stated. She was now determined to get the damn restricting chains of slavery removed, whatever it took. It would make it possible to get to Rogers apartment, especially if she had to hitch a ride.

"If you get on the floor it will be easier," Angela told her.

Hollie was used to being on the floor, and didn't give it much thought. She only just refrained from making her slave pose, which would have been highly embarrassing. She sat on the carpet while Angela fiddled with the Sirik chains. There wasn't a need to hurry, but the thought of being so close to freedom was electric, making her impatient.

"What are you doing?" Hollie asked. 

"You weren't listening were you?" Angela sighed heavily. "To undo the link catches I need to tighten the chains," Angela casually stated. She continued to pull at the chains, tightening the Sirik about the teacher's body.

"Don't worry, I'll soon have this exactly right," Angel smiled. 

The wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs were brought together, by tightening the chains. Hollie looked at her feet and hands trapped together, wondering if she should have allowed this. Before she could say anything, Angela lifted her feet off the floor. She was on her back looking up at her arms and legs, fastened together, where the chains had been pulled tight.

"Do you have to pull them so tight?" Hollie complained. She was beginning to have doubts about what Angela was up to. Had she been a fool yet again? The girl was pulling her ankles and wrists together, above her head. It was an uncomfortable position, and embarrassing. The panties were stretched over her sex with a slight wet patch showing.

"There, all done. All I have to do is push these links and the Sirik can be removed," Angela pleasantly said.

"Thank you Angela, I appreciate your help," Hollie said, wishing the damn girl would get on with it.

"By the way, you needn't worry. I won't tell my father you're a teacher. No need to make him angry. He can be so mean, and you don't want to be punished in the dungeon," Angela smiled. 

They were face to face, with Angela leaning over her. The pleasant smile changed to a devious grin. Hollie became worried.

"Can you just get the chains off, please," Hollie asked, trying to keep the anger from sounding in her voice.

"I was just wondering, why a teacher would be wearing so many chains. After all you're usually the one in charge, and here you are helpless, without any authority at all," Angela pondered. She gave Hollie a big smile. "Well?" she asked.

"The chains are hurting me. We could talk about it more comfortably when the chains are off," Hollie insisted. 

It was infuriating being so dependent on this stupid girl. It was also discomforting, feeling the panties becoming wet with her juices. She couldn't help the automatic reaction of arousal, from embarrassment, and being tightly bound. The damn girl only had to glance down to see the wet crotch, stretched over her pussy.

"Why did you put them on in the first place?" Angela asked, with an exaggerated frown of consternation.

"My, err, boyfriend put them on me. It was just a game, that's all. He didn't have time to take them off, as he was late for a flight. Can you remove them for me, please," Hollie said through gritted teeth. 

Being so helpless meant it was important not to upset the dim girl. Asking stupid questions at a time like this, when so close to becoming free, was annoying. It would be horrendous to be left like this, if the silly girl stomped off in a hissy fit.

"You mean Roger," Angela stated, no longer bothering to hide behind the girly facade. 

Hollie heard the name, which blocked out everything else. The change in Angela's attitude went unnoticed.

"So you know," Hollie flatly said. "Have you told anyone else?" she couldn't help asking.

"No. My father thinks you're a cute little girlfriend, just playing around," Angela took delight in saying. It was amusing see her cringe, when calling this self-important woman a cute little girl.

"Naughty teacher, letting her student chain her up. What other naughty games have you been playing?" Angela asked.

"Well?" Angela asked, with a harder tone this time.

She walked back across the room and settled on the floor, looking closely at the helpless teacher. Even if Roger hadn't been the prize, it was delightful having a teacher so pathetically at her mercy. Awkwardly she pushed the woman's legs further over her head. With the other hand she slapped her bottom with a paddle. 

"Ouch! You can't do this to me!" Hollie complained. 

"Answer my question . . . What's this then?" Angela gleefully asked. She was concentrating on the woman's face, watching her squirm. She hadn't noticed the state of her panties. She came back with a pair of scissors and sniped at them.

"Please leave me alone, let me go! You can't do this to a teacher, you'll be in trouble when you return to school," Hollie bitterly complained. The girl had to stop to grab hold of her ankles, as she thrashed around. She had nearly successfully brained the torturer with her legs.

Angela stood up, still holding on to the woman. In her box of tricks she found a rope, and tied one end to the ankle chains. She dragged her captive over to a closet, and tied the other end to a clothes rail. The teacher's arms and legs were stretched up, with her ass balanced backward on the floor. 

She stroked the woman's ass with the paddle. "Be good and do as you are told, or you'll get a thrashing. Do you hear me?" Angela demanded.

"Yes, I hear you," Hollie fiercely answered. "You lied to me, you didn't have any intention of helping me," she spat.

"So let's see what your 'boyfriend' did to you," Angela said. She got on the floor again with her head level with her captives. The scissors finished the job, and she pulled away the wet cotton. 

"That's just incredible!" Angela laughed. She was intent on seeing the piercings in the teacher's pussy, but found something more intriguing. She rubbed it with a finger, to make sure the tattoo was real and permanent. 

"So Roger did this?" she asked. 

Hollie clamped her mouth shut and tried to look away, though it was difficult with her limbs framing her face, effectively trapping it. Her captor looked closely at her, glaring at her.

"I told you what would happen," Angela said, and hit her ass with the small wooden paddle.

"Ouch! Alright, he did it," Hollie snorted, with disgust.

"Do you know what it means?" Angela asked, with a look of incredulity. 

"I've been branded a slave," Hollie stated, trying to sound calm. 

"The collar is permanent, and so is this slave number," Angela quietly spoke, while staring at the woman. 

Hollie was trying to look away from her, as well as avoid looking down at her sex. Angela concluded the stupid woman didn't have a clue as to its full meaning. She had submitted to being branded with a slave number, making her a permanent slave. It meant she had given herself to a master, for him to do as he wished with her. 

This teacher was now just an object to be owned. Angela's head buzzed with the possibility of owning a teacher as her slave. She imagined sitting in class, watching the teacher rule the students, knowing the teacher was her slave at home. Could she get her father to buy the slave from Roger? Reconsidering it, she thought of a better solution. If she became Roger's girlfriend, they could share the slave.

Of course a slave could run off, and start a new life somewhere. It was why the poor thing was so excited, and keen to get away from here. Why hadn't she escaped Roger, while they were still at school? It was another question to save till later.

"How did he get you to submit to a branding?" Angela asked, from curiosity, as well as it being useful information.

"He just did it to me," Hollie meekly stated.

"Wrong!" is all she said, and wacked the slave with the paddle.

"Ouch! Please stop! Please Angela," Hollie cried out.

"He didn't just do it to you, you're his teacher," Angela angrily stated.

"I'm not anymore, he resigned me from school," Hollie croaked, with a dry sob.

Angela took a hold of her chin, looking closely into her eyes. Hollie regretted the outburst, though at least it had stopped the pain.

"Tell me all about it, slave," Angela ordered, while stroking the woman's ass with the paddle.

Hollie couldn't hold back. The sordid tale was of her downfall, from responsible teacher to available slut, until becoming a young guy's slave. It all started innocently enough with a simple mistake. Of course, back then there was no clue to what she was getting into, what inner darkness Roger inadvertently released in her. 

Sharing all that had happened over the last few weeks with someone didn't help. It may have been because it was Angela, forcing the secrets from her. An occasional stroke of the paddle encouraged her, and a slap to her face made her explain details. Instead of feeling a slight relief at sharing it all, she felt pathetic. 

It was brought home to her how far she had fallen. She had stopped sobbing and was trying to bring herself back together. She needed to get Angela on her side, to help free her. If not she would have to find a weakness, either in Angela or the household routine.

"Do you realise what you have done to yourself?" Angela asked. The woman's blank look, and sniffles, exasperated her. "You are wearing a slave collar which can't be removed without a special key. That tattoo is a registration mark. It means to those who know, that you are a voluntary slave. Roger could sell you on, like an object he owns," Angela crossly told her.

This woman was a responsible teacher, or had been until recently, yet she had submitted herself to this pitiful state of slavery. Angela couldn't understand how a teacher could let herself get into such a pathetic state. She eyed her with a look of disdain.

Her father was a master, having been in the scene for many years, and so she knew exactly what it all meant. He was teaching her the rules. He often bought slaves, sometimes household slaves, and others for more specific purposes.

They might be weekend slaves, just playing at it. Sometimes they were like Hollie, declaring their permanent servitude. Her father bought these expensive objects and used them for awhile. When bored with them, he would sell them on. They seemed to enjoy the life, or at least they didn't complain.

"You're no longer a teacher, or a free woman. You've had all your authority of age and status stripped from you, so you are just a lowly slave. From now on I am called mistress. You're not going to be a problem, you're going to be an obedient slave, Cindy," Angela stated, while idly tapping her bottom with the paddle.

"Yes mistress," Hollie automatically answered 

"You're a well trained slave girl. Obey me and there will be no problem at all," Angela said.

"Yes mistress," Hollie sighed. It was too easy to sink into the slave role. She didn't want this young girl to spank her, and she was helpless to resist the girl, so what could be done other than give in.

"Such a cute name for a little slave girl. So, what do you say, Cindy?" Angela giggled. 

It was just perfect, having a teacher at her mercy. All those years of having to listen to boring teachers, and having to do as she was told in class, could be paid back. This woman hadn't been one of her teachers. This teacher's crime had been to get between Roger and her ambitions. This one she had all to herself, willing to obey her, ready for punishment.

"Yes, Mistress," Hollie replied, not really listening. 

"Why didn't I notice this?" Angela said, sounding mischievous. She poked the teacher with a finger. "Your cunt is wet and open! Do you get off on humiliation?" Angela asked. The reluctance to answer couldn't be ignored, she had to train her to pay attention, and respond quickly.

"Ouch! Sorry mistress," Hollie squealed. 

"Answer me immediately when I ask you a question, Cindy slave," Angela menacingly hissed.

"Yes, mistress," Hollie quavered. "Cindy slave gets wet when constrained, or humiliated . . . or . . . punished," she reluctantly admitted. The damn girl was beating out all her dire secrets. The knowledge that they would be used against her was horrible.

"You're a bad little slut, Cindy," Angela laughed. 

"Yes, mistress," Hollie stammered, feeling belittled and scared. 

This young girl had her where she wanted, feeling enslaved and hopeless. With Roger she had felt safe and comforted. The rewards were so wonderful she had opened up to him. He demolished her moral boundaries, and she gave in to her submissive side. Now this girl was taking advantage of all that Roger had made her. 

She was a well trained slave, unable to wrestle free from the habit of obedience. 'No! I can't be this cruel girls slave!' Hollie silently cried inside. 'She's only eighteen and I'm twenty-six, yet I'm supposed to serve her every whim, as an obedient slave,' Hollie whimpered. Her head rang with a clamour of regret, feeling sorry for herself.

Angela ran her fingers over the wet swollen lips, exploring the woman's sex, finding it fascinating. Having a teacher whimper from the fingertip touches was delightful. Having a teacher trust up, with her sex on fire, was too tempting to resist. She just had to play with this new toy. Not just a sex hole, its whole body and mind was a plaything.

Angela got up and rummaged through a box. She came back a laid down before the helpless slave. Slave was as hot as hell, breathing heavily, with her sex gaping. Angela explored the inner folds with a finger nail. The gasps of pain were from pleasure, for she wasn't hurting the slave at the moment.

Angela rubbed the dildo over what looked like a little gasping mouth. She rubbed the hard nub, pleased to hear squeals of pleasure. There was a reluctant and guilty sound to the voice, which appealed to Angela knowing the slave was suffering. Her eyes were tightly closed as though she wanted to shut out who was giving her pleasure. Or, maybe she was concentrating on the intimate touching.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 13



The head of the dildo eased in. Angela felt it tightly gripped by the woman's vagina. She hesitated then pushed hard. Watching it disappear into the woman's body was fascinating. She wondered if she too had a screwed up sex face like this slaves. The slave was obviously close to an orgasm, so she would have to stop it.

She took her hand away leaving the dildo in place. It was a surprise to hear the slave speak.

"Please, mistress, let Cindy cum," the desperate voice whispered.

"What do you want your mistress do to you, slave," Angela asked. She tried to keep a controlled voice, as her father would, though a touch of pleasure shone through.

"Please mistress, fuck your slave. Let your slave cum, mistress," Hollie pleaded. The big object was deep inside nudging her cervix, and it felt as though it was stretching her. She wanted it working her vagina hard. All she could do was flex the inner muscles around the stationery monster.

Angela decided not to give in to the slave. It needed teaching that it wouldn't get its own way, as it had with Roger. A young guy with a teacher, how could he have resisted the beautiful woman? They would have been fucking at every opportunity.

"Did your master fuck you in school?" Angela asked.

"Yes mistress," Hollie wailed. The memory of her master taking her pushed her closer to the edge.

"Where in school did he fuck Cindy slave?" Angela persisted.

"Master fucked Cindy In the first aid room," Hollie panted.

"Fuck!" Angela laughed. "You are a dirty fucking little slut, you know that?" Angela laughed.

"Yes mistress! Cindy is a dirty fuck slut, mistress. Please mistress, let Cindy slave cum, please," Hollie whined.

Angela bent the long flexible dildo almost in two, causing her slave to whimper. The other end she pushed at her asshole. At first Hollie tried to clamp it shut, but Angela noticed it still gaped open. Hollie struggled in her chains, rattling them, unable to move. The rope attached to the cuffs held, however hard she pulled on it.

"Shit! You're a three holed fuck doll!" Angela exclaimed. How had this responsible woman degraded herself so badly? Roger didn't have the experience to subjugate her so completely. The damn woman was a natural submissive, and a very dirty one. 

Angela firmly pushed it in, overcoming the initial resistance. The pain held the slave back from an orgasm, though the woman was obviously becoming stoked up on pain. 

'No! Not that, not my virgin bottom!' Hollie wailed, though the words were incoherent. 

She tried desperately to cum, by thinking of her master taking her for the first time. An image bent over the sofa in their cottage flashed in her mind. It was their private little safe world, where anything was possible. No one would scorn them or judge them there. The scornful face of that girl swam into vision, despite her eyes being clamped shut. It killed the orgasm, bringing her back into that yearning state she was so familiar with. 

The large dildo moved and she yelped in surprise. 

"You're a three holed fuck doll, Cindy slave. What are you?" Angela sweetly asked.

"I'm a three holed fuck doll, mistress," Hollie gasped, unable to even control her breathing. She was lost to the need of sex.

"You're a nasty slut Cindy sex doll," Angela sneered.

"I'm a nasty slut Cindy sex doll," Hollie repeated. 

All her senses were highly tuned to this young girl controlling her body. She was dependent upon every movement of the dildo. Every utterance was vital, for she was reduced to caring about only one thing, an orgasm.

Hollie felt it pulled from deep within her body. She was panting with shallow gasps. Both her vagina and bottom were being stimulated by the large object pulling back. It travelled a long way, slowly rippling inner muscles. She braced herself for the inward thrust into both her holes. 

"No! Please mistress," Hollie screamed. The sucking sound of it leaving her wet hole was rude and evil sounding. She felt the dildo leave her body. She felt empty and cheated. More than ever she needed that special feeling of being full of cock. 

"I need to cum, mistress, please! Let your slave cum!" Hollie wailed, with a quavering voice. Hollie was shaking with emotion, fearing she would be left in a needful agony, by this vindictive creature.

A loud thwack to her ass brought her round, but didn't quell the need.

"Not lecturing in a classroom now, are you slave girl! You're my slave girl now! Got it, Cindy?" Angela demanded an answer.

"Yes mistress! Cindy is your slave girl," Hollie whimpered.

Angela pinched her nipples, trying to get her attention. She stood up to untie the rope, and let her legs down to rest on the carpet. She slapped the woman's face making the slave open its eyes, to wake it up from whatever fantasy it was in. She wanted the woman to face where she was, and what was happening. She massaged the slave's legs, wanting it to stand for she had plans. 

"Up you get. Here let me guide you. You're a little wobbly sex doll," Angela chortled.

"I'm going to get something for you to wear. Sit on the edge of the bed before you fall. Good slave girl, Cindy," Angela firmly stated.

"Thank you mistress," Hollie automatically responded. 

She was still breathing heavily from the ordeal. It was difficult to know if it would have been better to be humiliated with a climax in front of this girl, or feel relief from the need. The incessant throb in her sex was still there, demanding satisfaction. She pressed her thighs together, feeling the piercing loops rub her clit.

"Will you cum like that?" Angela asked.

"Cindy slave won't cum mistress," Hollie quickly said. She had carefully avoided saying 'no' to her mistress. 

"Then you can continue, just so long as you don't cum," Angela said, and continued to forage in the walk-in closet.

Hollie suppressed a cry of pain. Being ordered not to cum by a young girl was degrading. It was humiliating to be given permission to rub her thighs together, to stimulate her sex. Damn! She was thinking of her as a mistress. She was a grown woman, a teacher, yet this girl had taken her over.

"Put this on, now, jump to it Cindy!" Angela demanded.

Hollie still wore the chains, which wouldn't be covered up, but at least her body would be. The short plaid skirt and white blouse was part of a school uniform. 

Angela stood back to admire her slave girl. She liked the idea of turning a teacher into a schoolgirl. It was a means of taking away her power, leaving her weak and vulnerable. In that condition she was dependent on her mistress, which was exactly what Angela wanted.

"That used to be my uniform, when I started high school. I've grown out of it, as you can see, but it fits you well, little slave girl," Angela smiled. "The chains spoil the little innocent girl effect. Get it off, quickly!" Angela admonished her.

"Try this. It's not a slave costume but it will do. I won't forget you running like a frightened deer, naked among your students. That was so funny watching all those guys offering to buy you're cunt. They didn't offer much. They thought you were a cheap whore from town. How much did they offer you, Cindy slave?" Angela asked.

Hollie just looked down at her feet, unable to answer the cruel question.

"What's the matter, Cindy doll? Do you need your string pulled before you can speak," Angela sniggered. 

"If only they had known. I'm sure they would have offered a lot more to fuck a teacher," Angela chuckled, rubbing her slave's nose in the mire.

"Just think, Cindy slave, all those young cocks taking turns to use your body. All those cocks filling you're cunt up with hot spunk. Calm down Cindy, your mistress told you not to cum, naughty slut," Angela crossly said, and slapped her bare ass.. 

Angela noticed Hollie flinch each time she used the word cunt. "Don't you like that naughty word, cunt? It's what a slave's hole is called, so get used to it," Angela harshly told her slave,

Another blouse and skirt was found to be satisfactory to her mistress. Hollie felt a little better being covered up, even though she hadn't been given any underwear.

"Thank you mistress," Hollie demurely said. She didn't give it a thought that her clothes had been chosen for her. After being so long with Roger she was used to it. 

"Some jewellery will brighten you up," Angela said, while fiddling with the large hoop earrings. "There you are, take a look at those," she smiled.

Hollie looked in a mirror and noisily sucked in her breath. The skirt was too short, and the blouse too low cut, as usual. The style was too young for her, leaving her looking like an adolescent slut, from the wrong side of town. What was so nasty was the cheap jewellery. The horrible things spelled out the word 'slut', and glittered brightly as they dangled under the slutty hoop earrings.

It confirmed for Hollie that this girl could humiliate her far more than Roger. She imagined being taken around a all dressed like this and bumping onto someone from school, such as a fellow teacher, or even the principal. They wouldn't recognise her dressed and made up so badly. 

Her mistress would be sure to introduce her, just for the fun of it. What would she say to them? Going to a fancy dress party wouldn't work. Perhaps she might explain that she had been bought in a charity auction, so had to serve Angela as her slave. It didn't sound plausible or make her feel any better.

"Come on lets get something to eat, your mistress is starving. I need to keep my energy levels up, as I've got plans for my Cindy slave," Angela said, while cajoling her down the stairs to the kitchen.

Hollie was busy making a sandwich for her mistress. It at least kept her out of harms way, for a moment or two. The mundane task gave her a chance to think for a few minutes. The only thing she could think of was the girl had to sleep, which would give an opportunity to escape. 

She was determined to try tonight, as a week here would be hell. 

A clip clop of high heels echoed on the marble floored hallway, announcing a feminine someone's entrance. A tall elegant woman walked in. wearing an elegant silk designer dress. It was black, and figure hugging down to the hips, where if flared out. Not so practical on a windy day.

She emanated wealth and prestige, from her poise, together with the expensive designer clothes she wore. They didn't just hang on her fame. The dress was tailored for a perfect fit. She had an attractive hour glass figure, with an older woman's sophistication. Hollie admired her long shapely legs, wishing she were taller. 

Hollie was impressed. She stopped with the tray of sandwiches, cookies, and milk, in mid-step. A flash of hope lit her mind, wondering if this powerful woman would help her escape. She was obviously Nathanial's wife, and held sway here in their home. As a diplomats wife she knew how to manipulate powerful people, and probably her husband as well, so Angela would stand little chance against her.

"It's late, where have you been, mother?" Angela asked. "Father was looking for you earlier," her voice changed from a fierce demanding sound, to a warm, almost girly tone. 

"Oh dear! Is it that late? I hoped to get back before this. The evening meal will be late. Your father will be upset with me, especially as I promised to be back on time," Bridget huffed, hardly sounding bothered. 

"Have you been playing with your little friend?" Bridget asked. 

Hollie looked down at the floor, with a face colouring from embarrassment. The woman's daughter had certainly been playing with her. She would be ashamed to admit to the obscene act, as much as admitting to being a teacher. She was used to being dressed and behaving like an adolescent, so being mistaken for one was nothing new. It was easy to slip into the role.

"Would your little friend help out, do you think dear? We wouldn't need to tell him if everything is as it should be when he arrives," Bridget said, sounding exasperated.

"You should tell him anyway, even if we do get dinner ready on time. You mustn't get away with breaking a promise, mother," Angela scolded her. 

Hollie was willing to give a hand, as it would keep her out of Angela's way. Helping to cover up for the mother would put her in the woman's good books. The woman was sure to help her out in return. 

"Well dear, you could put things right, then your father wouldn't need to be upset when he gets home," Bridget suggested. "If you took responsibility, like he taught you, it would be helping us both out," she added.

"I don't know, keeping secrets from father isn't right," Angela stated.

Bridget looked at her daughter with a knowing look. 

Hollie could see something was going on between them. Angela must be angling for an advantage. She wanted to volunteer to help, but dare not say a word. She needed Angela out of the way so she could talk to the mother. Looking up from the shy girl pose, she looked at the woman and recognised her. 

This was the woman she met with Roger in the mall. She wanted to giggle from embarrassment. The butt plugs Roger used to stretch her asshole had been this woman's. It might be a useful piece of information when asking for help.

"Oh! Please dear, help out your mother, just this once," she sweetly said. She put on a saccharine expression, too comical to be sincere.

"Pretty please," she said, making a silly childish pose for her daughter, to match the expression.

"OK! No more silliness, please, I give in," Angela stated, with hands on her hips, looking annoyed. "You can fetch it and I'll help you out, so father doesn't have to be told. Besides, I've got a special request to make, and need him in a good mood" Angela said.

"Alright dear, here we are. I appreciate you taking the responsibility. Just keep my lateness from your father, you know how funny he is about punctuality," Bridget said. 

The woman had brought something from a cupboard, which puzzled Hollie, wondering what the thing was. It looked like a big wooden spoon. It would need a large cooking pot to stir anything, and she wondered what was being prepared for dinner. 

Bridget pulled up her dress and bent over the table, with legs spread as though being searched. Hollie looked on in amazement. The offhand way she had bent over took Hollie by surprise. She wasn't wearing panties, and hadn't left the room to take them off, so she must have been out shopping without them. Everything else was there, stockings, suspender belt, and high heels, but no panties.

The underwear set was black silk, matching the dress. It too was expensive, finished with delicate lace. The stockings clung to her legs, pulled tight by the four discreet straps. The stockings, straps, and garter belt framed her soft cheeks in a half circle. It looked as though her underwear was designed specifically for this pose.

Hollie watched Angela lift her arm back, seeing the inevitability of the action. The whack was swift and effective. The sound loudly cracked in the silent room. The mother's cheek reddened immediately. So it wasn't a cooking instrument, it was a paddle.

"One, thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget announced, in a flat tone.

Hollie stood watching with her mouth hanging open, with a look of disbelief. The usualness of the family scene had been shattered. Another whack struck harder, on the other cheek. The woman had a firm fleshy bottom, and the hard wooden paddle wobbled it this time. It must have hurt, but she didn't yelp, so must be used to a thrashing.

Hollie looked at her more closely. She was wearing a slave collar! Hollie fingered her collar, knowing they were the same. Damn! What the hell was going on in this house?

"Six, thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget recited, in a monotone, indicating it was a usual response. 

"What is this?" Angela demanded, in an imperious tone of voice.

The spoon or paddle, scooped between the woman's lips. They were glistening and now the paddle was damp. Angela pushed it under her mother's nose. "What is this?" she demanded.

"Oh! Bother! Sorry Angela, I've been denied this past week, couldn't help it," her mother casually stated, expecting her daughter to understand.

"I don't expect my mother to get excited while I'm paddling her, its indecent," Angela ranted. "What were you thinking about?" she asked, trying to calm down.

"The waiter at lunch, he was rather dishy," Bridget admitted.

Whack! This time her mother squealed in pain. "Darling, please, not my pussy! Owww!" she again cried out.

"Wrong! You deserve to be severely punished, and anyway, it's not your pussy. What is it?" Angela demanded to know. She kept a hand on the woman's back holding her down. 

"My masters cunt, mistress," Bridget said, with another yelp.

Hollie suspected she could escape but there were probably rules covering this situation. The woman was obviously a wife, and a slave. Her daughter was certainly no slave girl, so that made her a mistress. Oh! Shit! No wonder Angela had taken control of her so effectively. 

"Owww! Please stop it hurts! Yes, mistress, slave girl deserves to be punished. Please mistress, your my daughter, you shouldn't be paddling your fathers cunt," Bridget whimpered, trying for sympathy.

"You're not counting!" Angela warned her mother.

"Owww! Nine. Thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget squealed. 

Hollie was embarrassed for the woman. Revealing that her husband was her master should have been embarrassing for her. It should have been immensely humiliating, having to submit to her daughter, while being thrashed like a naughty little girl. Yet the woman had submitted without a qualm.

If that wasn't bad enough, Hollie had to witness the woman's degradation. She was certainly regretting letting her daughter punish her, for she was whimpering from pain. It seemed shocking and incongruous for the mother to be punished by her daughter. To think the woman had instigated it, to save her husband administering the punishment, left Hollie bemused.

"Owww! Ten, thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget said, and heaved a sigh of relief that it was all over. She lay there a moment not daring to move. When she stood the dress slipped over her bare bottom, and even the soft silk made her wince.

When she took a step the woman tightly closed her eyes. 

"Lift your dress," Angela said, sounding exasperated. She looked at her mother's pussy, and clicked her tongue dismissively. 

"On you knees, Cindy. Settle back on the table, mother. You know what to do, slave. Then maybe we can get some work done around here," Angela complained. 

Angela whacked Hollie on the ass, as she slowly crawled to the girl's mother. "Hurry up! Get her licked out. I want her to cum, and quickly," Angela shouted.

Hollie almost automatically thanked her mistress, but the prospect of sucking on a stranger's pussy was dreadful. In close up she could see how swollen the woman's lips were. They looked sore, as well as being puffy from arousal. The woman grabbed the back of Hollies head and pulled it into her crotch. The beginning of a complaint was muffled by the woman's large outer slippery lips, as though she had been gagged. 

A familiar phrase rumbled through her head, 'sooner started, sooner completed, Or, something like that. Knowing her mistress was standing close, ready to punish her, she dived in. The woman reeked of excitement. Her fantasy must have been good, or the waiter must have been exceptional.

Hollie coughed, covering up a nervous giggle. She realised she had coughed up the woman's pussy, as her mouth was glued to her hole. She wondered about that, and blew into it, between sucking and licking. As much as she hated admitting it, Angela was right. She was becoming an expert pussy sucker. 

Hollie was experimenting too. The woman didn't seem to notice what she was doing to her. If she got away with this she would try it on Angela. It would be just a small retribution, but she needed something, to keep a hold of her sanity.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 13



The woman's legs trembled, with both knees threatening to give way. She moaned a little and sighed. Not much of an orgasm, but maybe that was usual. 

"Thank you dear, that was nice," Bridget thanked her daughter, and air-kissed her across the kitchen. She completely ignored Hollie, who was wiping her face with a dishcloth.

"Come on both of you, back to work, dinner must be ready for father," Angela fiercely ordered, and left them to it.

Once her dress was dropped back into place, and she started to prepare dinner, the relationship seemed to have returned to its natural state. For a moment Hollie wondered if she imagined the whole thing. 

"What happened, I'm sorry," Hollie stammered. She didn't know what to say. Perhaps she should have left the room, or intervened. 

"Think nothing of it, sweetie. We had better get on with the dinner, or we'll be in trouble," Bridget calmly stated. The woman farted and looked embarrassed. "That was a pussy fart, so you must have filled me with air. I didn't think you had much experience," Bridget laughed.

They chatted about mundane things which relaxed Hollie. The woman was a fun sort of person, and so she wondered why Bridget put up with a daughter that spanked her.

"So Cindy, how long are you going to be our guest?" Bridget asked. 

"Seven days. While my master is away," Hollie sighed. 

"Well I guess you'll learn to kiss pussy like an expert in that time," she laughed.

Hollie laughed with her, an unfamiliar emotional release and a pleasant one. She plucked up courage to ask a question. "Why did you let your daughter spank you?" Hollie quietly asked.

"It was better than letting my husband punish me. You don't realise what's going on do you? I'm a submissive, as you've guessed, and as you know my husband is a dominant. My daughter happens to take after her father, so she too is a dominant person. Her father is teaching her what it means to be a mistress. That makes me the slave girl in this house, and my daughter the mistress," Bridget explained. 

"We're all finished, have a cup of coffee," Bridget said.

"I have no power at all, no say in anything. I have to ask my master, or if he isn't here, I have to ask Angela for permission to do anything. So be warned, I can't help you if you get into trouble. The best way for a peaceful life, is to simply obey them," Bridget smiled.

"What was all that about a waiter?" Hollie asked.

"Well, I didn't say you couldn't have some fun! Your job is to manipulate the situation to your advantage. Be careful of Angela though, she can be mean if she gets it into her head your not behaving yourself," Bridget warned.

After dinner Angela wandered into the kitchen, where the two slave friends were tidying up.

"I was going to ask father for a favour," Angela said.

"Well you know he'll do anything for you," Bridget said, with a shrug.

"I was thinking of sending Cindy for Pony-girl training," Angela said.

Hollie didn't know whether to be happy or afraid. She didn't know what was involved, but surely it would be better than being subject to Angela's strict mastery.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 14



Chapter 14

Private Party

"A pony-girl, that's a bit drastic dear. The training is very demanding and severe. It changes the slave so much. They are taught to jump to obey, quite literally," Bridget chuckled. She could see the serious look on her daughters face, knowing how determined she became when settling on a scheme. 

"The trainer whips all resistance from them, until they become docile creatures. Where would the fun be in that darling? Are you sure Roger would approve? After all she's his slave," Bridget reminded her daughter.

Hollie heard every word of the conversation, leaving her feeling sick at the thought of it. At first she had welcomed the idea of escaping Angela. Angela's mother was sending a clear warning as to what it would be like, as well as trying to stop her daughter. Hollie was thankful for that, only she knew how little the woman's opinion meant, in this strange household. 

If Angela got her father's agreement they would send her away for pony-girl training. That would be so terrible she could hardly bare to think about it. She had no idea it was possible, or even that there was such a thing, and it sounded horrendous. The more she heard the more it sounded nasty, as her whole personality would be changed. 

She would be turned into be a prancing pony-girl, or used to pull a carriage. The change to her limbs, with her arms constantly tied behind her back, and wearing hoof boots, sounded horrendous. 

"Father confirmed I'm in charge of the slave, so what I say goes," Angela firmly stated. "He said I'm doing a good job, and will make a fine mistress," she bragged.

Bridget caught on to what her daughter was up to. She wanted Roger's slave out of the way. Having been around masters all her life, she was nimble enough in her thinking to quickly change tack. 

"When Roger comes back he'll know you were in charge, and he'll blame you. He'll be angry dear, so it would spoil your chances with him. If he involves his father, Nathanial would be very put out. You had better think about that before you do anything," Bridget suggested.

Angela flashed her mother an angry look, knowing she might be right, and not liking it one bit. 

"You're finished here, slave. Come with me," Angela crossly told Hollie.

Hollie nodded and smiled her thanks to Bridget in passing, though all she could manage was a grimace. Bridget winked back at her, trying to reassure her. Trotting along behind her mistress, Hollie knew she would have to behave herself. Avoiding her anger became a priority, with dire consequences if she failed. 

Only a few weeks ago she had been a teacher in this girl's school, now she was her slave. All her authority and respectability as a teacher had vanished. She was a mature woman, yet in this household they thought she was just a stupid young girl. Even her age counted for nothing, when dealing with this tyrant. 

The incentive to be an obedient and obliging slave girl was stronger than ever, when she thought of being sent for pony-girl training. It was vital to be a good little girl and not step out of line.

By the time they got back to Angela's room Hollie realised she had little alternative except to obey her mistress. Acting as a slave was affecting her deeply, as the horrid girl expected so much more than Roger had. The demand for absolute obedience by this young girl was shaping the way she thought. Gritting her teeth, Hollie determined to sneak away in the night, while the harridan slept.

"Clean this place up, slave," Angela demanded. 

Hollie could feel the girl's eyes on her, waiting for a mistake to be made, as an excuse to punish her. As a teacher she had been strict yet fair, and never ever vindictive with students. Yet here she was apprehensively moving around, fearful of being punished by this young girl.

Angela contemplated her next move. She sat with arms crossed realising her mother was right, and resenting it. She wouldn't forget that in a hurry. She would have to keep the slave safely for Roger until he got back. The look of defiance on the slaves face made her think. 

The woman wasn't properly trained, for Roger didn't have the experience. They had just played at being master and slave, making it just a naughty sexy game for them. Angela looked at her slave wondering what to do with her.

"It's about time you showed me your skills as a slave," Angela stated. "Cindy! Pay attention when your mistress commands you!" she said, and slapped Hollie across the face. "Assume your slave position," she demanded.

Automatically Hollie squatted at the girl's feet. She was reminded of the times with Roger, when she had gladly assumed the humble position. A sense of loss and longing threatened to engulf her.

"That's no good. Get undressed, Cindy slave," Angela calmly said. She felt strong, watching the once proud teacher hurry to strip naked before her. The sense of power over this woman was something new and exciting. She studied the lithe body and shaved pussy, seeing why Roger had been so enthralled with her. 

"I don't like to look up at a slave, assume the position," Angela said. Her voice was casual as though it were perfectly normal for a student to order a naked teacher around. 

At her feet the woman squatted, revealing her sex with wide spread thighs. The hands rested palm upward on her knees. She held her shoulders back, thrusting out a pair of small breasts. They were nicely shaped, not yet needing support, which meant she could be dressed without underwear. Respectfully her head drooped down, so as not to look her mistress in the face. 

Angela wondered what little slave thoughts might be revealed on that hidden face. Escape of course. Earlier she had been in a hurry to get back to Rogers house. It was late now, and so ideal for a slave to slink away in the night. 

Angela leaned forward and pinched a nipple. The looked for squeal didn't materialise, which was disappointing. She gripped both nipples and twisted them. 

"Ah yes, Cindy slave likes pain and punishment, they turn you on!" Angela chuckled. "Let's see how much more sexed up you become when humiliated," she laughed.

Hollie regretted revealing all her sordid secrets to this torturer, knowing a young girl could be so mean. Her mother had warned her, and it didn't take long before she was to find out how bad her mistress could be. Hollie groaned from realising she was already thinking of the little shit as her mistress. Or, was it forced upon her by the pain?

Hollie felt the girl's foot rub her sex. Damn! She wasn't even bothering to finger her, as though she wasn't good enough. She felt a toe enter her sex, knowing the damn girl was right, with the humiliation arousing her as predicted. Her mistress had her so stoked up, there was nothing she could do, except hope this time she would be allowed to orgasm. 

"You are such a slut, slave Cindy," Angela smugly smiled.

"Please mistress," Hollie whimpered. It was so humiliating being manipulated like a wind up doll, ready to perform. Hollie didn't want to, but she just had to beg for relief.

"What does my slave girl need?" Angela taunted her.

"Please, mistress, let your slave cum," Hollie begged. Her whole body shuddered from the red painted toenail scratching her clitoris. Still loosely holding her slave position she couldn't move. It was terribly demeaning, but she still tried to push her sex against the girl's foot. She began to thrust her clit against the manicured toe, fucking herself at her mistress's feet.

"Not yet slave Cindy. I might let you orgasm when I'm ready, if I'm pleased with you," Angela imperiously announced.

"Thank you, mistress," Hollie weakly answered, between gasps for breath.

"What are you Cindy?" Angela asked.

Hollie heard the taunting tones in the girl's voice, but couldn't hold back. She had lost her respectability and moral fibre with a deep arousal swamping both. 

"I'm Cindy, your sexed up little slave girl, mistress," Hollie purred, sounding humble and willing to serve. It was so pathetic she hated the sound of her own voice. She tried to bring herself together, and fight the feeling of sinking into a deep pit. Her whole body seemed to conspire against her, craving for satisfaction it gave in to the ogre. 

"Please mistress, let your little slave girl cum, please mistress," Hollie implored. The senatorial tones used before a class had given way to a pitiable whine.

"Not feeling so big and important now are we teacher? What happened to your dignity teacher?" Angela sneered. She ran a red painted toe-nail over her slave's sex, and pressed a big toe against her swollen clit.

Hollie squealed in delight, though she needed more, much more. It felt as though she were being punished, being held back from nirvana. 

"Sorry Miss Angela, Cindy doesn't mean to be a bad girl, honest. Cindy isn't a teacher any more. Cindy is just a pathetic little sex slave, not important at all," Hollie promised. 

It was all true she had lost her teaching job, and probably ruined her career. Hollie felt the ideas settle on her, like a dark shadow engulfing her. She was trying to pull it on like a coat, not for the cold, it was so she could fit what her mistress wanted her to be. Unlike a coat the behaviour and feelings wouldn't be so easily shrugged off. She might be left wearing the persona for a long time to come, if she wasn't careful.

Angela roughly pulled her by the nipples into her lap. "Let's see how good you are at pleasuring your mistress," Angela giggled. 

Watching a teacher enthusiastically lap at her pussy was fascinating. This woman had licked her mother earlier, bringing her to an orgasm. She had never experienced this before, but had to admit it was good. It was partly the thought of so badly mistreating a teacher. The slave was so very good at it. A woman knew how to stimulate her sex so much better than a fumbling inexperienced boy. 

She was using her fingers too! 

"Fuck teacher, you are such a fucking suck slut," Angela moaned. She had to lean back and shut her eyes, revelling in the sensations pulsing between her thighs. When she climaxed her legs shook. A fire seemed to spread from her belly, out to the furthest reaches of her limbs. Her fingers and toes tingled.

"Cindy that was so good! Your mistress is pleased with her little slave girl," Angela said, with feeling. It was pleasant calling a teacher her little slave girl. It made her feel she had reached the status of mistress, and that her father would be pleased with her.

She wanted to show off this new power to someone. She would find a way. The idea could be slept on, as it was late. She hadn't forgotten her promise to slave girl, or that a slave dreams of freedom.

"Come on Cindy, time for bed," Angela yawned.

Hollie was still worked up from receiving so much stimulation during the day and this evening. Despite this she was willing to forget about an orgasm, more interested in see her tormentor go to sleep. A pillow held tight over her head would be satisfying though running away as far as possible was a priority.

The bedroom was a connecting room to the lounge, as the girl had a suite of rooms all her own. She crawled beside her mistress, noting how quiet she could be on the soft carpet. The door was left ajar, though it wouldn't be a problem, as it didn't squeak. 

"In there, back into it, go on!" Angela scolded her slave.

Damn! The girl was putting her into a pet cage. It was only just large enough to squeeze into. She would have to screw up in a foetal position to lie down. The locking bar would keep a pet in, but she could push her fingers between the bars to unlock the door. 

She tried to relax. The indignity of being kept in a pet box was dreadful, but she would survive.

"Your mistress hasn't forgotten her promise to little Cindy pet. I've decided Cindy too can have some pleasure," Angela chuckled. 

Hollie knew why the girl liked using that slave name. She loved rubbing it in, reminding her she had lost everything, even her name. She felt something hard pushing at her sex. Her lips were swollen with lust and had been all day. Her sex ached to be filled. Despite that she didn't want a vibrator, she needed her master. 

"Oh! Mistress!" Hollie squealed. Feeling a large object enter her she couldn't help but yelp. Another was pressed between her cheeks. "No! Please! Mistress," Hollie squealed again. Her voice had taken on a pathetic little squeaky sound, and under the circumstances it was impossible to shake off. 

It was no good, however pathetically she pleaded the tormentor pushed something into her asshole. The feeling of it moving and expanding her sphincter was nasty. She would have bucked and kicked out if she hadn't been incarcerated in such a small cage. It slowly progressed further and further into her bottom. She pushed at the door with her head, but it wouldn't budge, so there was no escaping the inevitable. She felt the base of the thing pressed firmly against her cheeks, and knew it was fully imbedded up her ass.

Hollie felt the other hard object twist and move further into her pussy. It didn't hurt like the anal phallus. It was bigger and fitted her tightly. She tried to loosen up inside, to take it in her vagina. 

"Oh! Mistress, it's too big!" Hollie complained. It felt huge, as though it were stretching her inside. She tried to pull away in the tight confines of the cage. Both of the nasty things were attached to the bars of the cage behind her. There wasn't enough room to pull away from them, so all she succeeded in doing was to move them both a little way out, and back in again.

"I'll teach you to complain, Cindy bitch!" Angela laughed. "Open wide, Cindy pet," Angela ordered.

Angela pushed a rubber gag into her mouth. It fitted well, suppressing all complaints. Slave was obviously still complaining, though the sound quietly muffled. This too clipped to the cage bars. Her slave watched with wide staring eyes, as Angela slipped a padlock into place, locking the cage door for the night. The fixed white eyes flashed an anxious message of defeat.

"Ah! Poor slave pet, you look so feeble in there, peering out so pathetically," she laughed. "This is your pet cage, so you don't run off in the night, like a sexed up pet bitch!" Angela smiled at her. 

At last Hollie could say anything she liked. She cursed her tormentor from behind the gag, though the girl knew what the garbled murmuring meant. She just smiled and continued the taunting tale.

"I can't have my Cindy pet running off naked, into the night. Cindy is so sexed up she'll be offering her body to the street gangs for quick fuck. Imagine that, Cindy, having your cunt banged by a rough Hispanic gang. Every one of them lining up like dogs, to bang the white bitch," Angela teased.

"They wouldn't let you go afterwards. They would keep Cindy the white bitch, as their gang whore. Would you like that Cindy pet whore?" Angela asked.

"How would it feel Cindy pet, being reduced from teacher to gang whore? You're squirming at the thought of it, aren't you bitch! Go on push back on those vibrators, you little bitch. You're not a pony-girl at all. I'll send you away to be trained as a pet-girl instead. What do you think, little pet-girl?" Angela asked, as though she were poking the woman with a stick.

Hollie ranted back at her tormentor, knowing the sound was muffled to nothing, just meaningless sounds. It was her only escape, her only way of keeping sane. The image of a bunch of Hispanic kids taking her, was worming its way into her mind.

It was disconcerting to realise she had been pressing back on the vibrators. As she fucked herself on the two vibrators penetrating her body, the image of those young guys fucking her became more real. She was lost in a nightmare, where she was a bitch on heat, being taunted and sexed up, until she was prepared to perform the anything for them. The young guys had her panting and crying for sexual release. Instead they cruelly made her perform despicable sexual acts.

"The vibrators in your pussy and anus are set for a constant cycle. They will keep you happy all night. You have your mistress's permission to cum, Cindy bitch. No complaints? Good little slave girl, Cindy," Angela smiled at her victim. 

Hollie came to from the vivid nightmare, wondered what she meant. The vibrators started up. Gentle vibrations turned to little wriggles then increased in tempo. There was a soft rubber finger rubbing her clit, in a circular motion. She tried to pull away, but the damn things were stuck firmly inside her vagina, and bottom. In the small cage there was no room to squeeze forward. She was held in a tight embrace, caged like an animal.

Soon she was on the edge of an orgasm, desperate to cum. They stopped. 'No! Not now, let me cum!' Hollie whimpered an incoherent sound. Panting around the gag, like a bitch after a run, she began to calm down. No sooner had she reached normality than it started up again. 

'No! Please, not again!' There was no-one to hear her garbled pleas for mercy. The torture instruments were going to tease her all night! She wondered if she could eventually cum, or would she go insane from the relentless stimulation.

In her mind the nightmare began again. The guys had her performing despicable sexual acts, laughing at her antics. She was trying hard to cum, however dirty the game was, only to be let in a sate of high arousal. She was left panting for more every time, so the came up with nastier games for her to play.

Their guard dogs were brought in from outside and Hollie turned her ass toward them, presenting herself.

Hollie screamed into the gag. Knowing it was her dark imagination fuelling the nightmare, was a cruel twist. Angela had set the theme, yet she was making into an evil epic.

Hollie was between vibrations, wondering why she was being tortured like this. It was unbearable being subjected to the whims of a young girl, when so recently she had been a responsible adult, and a teacher. It was frightening knowing the girl understood so well a woman's sex, and knew how to inflict pain, as well as how to stimulate a submissive woman. The young girl didn't have the sensibilities and compassion of an adult, which left her so very vulnerable to abuse.

As the torturer had promised, the vibrators were taking her to bursting point and just leaving her there. The worked her up, over and over again. Would Angela deny her an orgasm for the entire week, working her up then bringing her back down? It would be a roller coaster ride, of arousal and pain, until she begged for an orgasm. If her mistress had been awake she would humbly beg right now. 

"Anything mistress, please let your little slave girl cum, I'll do anything, honestly! Please, mistress!" Hollie squealed into the gag, as though in pain. She was yet again on the edge of an orgasm, knowing the damn vibrators would stop too soon. She was being driven mad with desire.

As though her mistress heard her muffled pleas, she was surprised to orgasm. A short juddering of her body and it was over. 

"Oh! Thank you, mistress!" Hollie whimpered into the gag. Even though the shit of a girl wasn't there, she was pledging allegiance, prepared to do anything for her mistress's pleasure.

Again she climaxed. It wasn't so near to the end of the cycle this time. Again she had a small cum, happening more quickly. The devilish devices were making her more sensitive, so she was ready as soon as they started up. Hollie quickly reached a peak and it spilled over into an orgasm. 

In the early hours of the morning she passed out. The timer quit too.

"Your face looks a picture of abject misery," Angela laughed. "Did you enjoy your treat, Cindy slave?"

Angela unlocked the cage and pulled her slave from the cage. Hollie felt the vibrators being pulled from her body. Her muscles gripped them tight, until a hideous sucking sound announced they were free.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 14



Hollie couldn't speak even when the gag was removed. She was exhausted, unable to think about freedom, or anything else.

Her face revealed her plight. Her mistress gave her a look of recognition, knowing she was now completely helpless. 

This girl had been flirting with her master, seeing Hollie as a rival for his affections. Now Angela had the rival out of the way, she could move in on him. What then? Would her master forget about her, not caring what happened to her? Would she be abandoned to a life of a sex slave, forever?

Her master brought out her submissive nature, and taught her to obey. So now she was an obedient slave girl, ready to be dominated. No longer a playful willing slave, she had been captured, and made into an unwilling slave, forced to obey. She was now a real slave girl! 

Partly from Angela's domination, and partly from her submissive personality, she was giving in. She knew it, and knew it would be impossible to resist obeying Angela's every whim. 

An adolescent girl can be cruel, so she expected to be ill used. How could the girl resist forcing a teacher to be her obedient slave? How could she resist making an adult pay for all the real and imagined slights an adolescent suffers. 

Hollie would learn what it was like to be nothing, just an object to be used. She would be an owned slave girl, bullied and humiliated into acting like a sex pet. She felt so low the idea of freedom slipped away. It was buried, ready to be resurrected when the opportunity arose.

Hollie washed her mistress down like an Egyptian handmaiden of ancient times. She could see her mistress enjoyed the attention, as much as the demise of a teacher. As soon as she recovered her energy she would have to escape before she became too embedded in the lowly role.

"In you get, Cindy slave," Angela ordered. She watched her slave get into the bath, with a look of anticipation. "You need to keep the chains clean, Cindy slave. They are filthy with you juices," she admonished the woman. 

Hollie split her legs for her mistress to turn the spray over her naked body. The pressure spray followed the chains down from her neck, over her nipples. The spray hit between the legs, and Hollie involuntarily raised her hips. The hard spray of hot water was played over her sex, bringing an instant arousal. 

It was a complete surprise to find she was experiencing an orgasm! Now she knew why her mistress was washing her. "Damn!" She cried out in anguish. 

She soon realised what was happening. Her sex had been sensitised to respond to the slightest stimulation. She couldn't hold back, as she pushed her sex up at the spray, revelling in the feeling of hot water playing upon her engorged bud and lips.

"Did your mistress allow you a nice orgasm, Cindy slave?" Angela sweetly asked.

"Yes mistress, thank you mistress," Hollie panted. Being called Cindy was nothing compared to what the girl had done to her. She was effectively becoming her little slave pet, so there was no need to send her away for the threatened training. 

"Come on Cindy slave, time to serve your mistress breakfast," Angela commanded.

The prospect ahead of her was dreadful. Spending her whole life in servitude, as nothing more than a sex slave, became a terrifying and humiliating reality. Despite herself she couldn't help becoming aroused. Her pussy was oozing, while contemplating the humiliation of serving a master or mistress as a humble sex slave.

Hollie served breakfast to her mistress, and the master of the house. She was in too much of state to hear what they were saying. She was busy trying to bring herself under control, as well as serve them both. The master took little notice of her, despite being naked. 

She still wore the chains, and wondered if she could find the keys in the master's study. If they were locked in a safe there would be little chance to be rid of them. She had become used to them. She hardly heard the soft jingle on links, though on occasions he felt them pull on her lips, if she wasn't careful when bending and stretching.

Back in the kitchen Angela's mother was complaining about not having a kitchen slave, as Hollie hadn't been trusted to cook anything. They still thought she was just a young submissive friend of Rogers. It was obvious she wasn't an experienced or trained slave.

"Don't worry mother. Father is going away on business for a few days and will bring one back. You won't have to do anything then," Angela informed her. 

"He didn't tell me he was going away!" Bridget complained. 

"He did yesterday. You weren't listening as usual. You have become an unruly slave recently and need to re-learn your place," Angela smiled. 

"Did your father say that?" Bridget asked, looking surprised.

"No, he didn't. If he knew what you had been up to with a waiter yesterday, he would have, and more," Angela sweetly smiled. Bridget's face fell and she quickly turned away.

Trying to change the subject she quickly asked. "So who is this slave he's bringing back."

"The woman is about thirty, and has been into the scene for some while. Apparently she's a socialite, but enjoys the role of household slave. She's well trained, and will be very willing. He's taking her on as a favour to a friend. That's all I know," Angela informed her mother. 

It reassured Bridget, for the last thing she wanted was for a rival to enter her home. That it was a favour to someone sounded right, as the state of their finances meant they couldn't afford to purchase an expensive slave. 

"Considering a new slave will be joining the household, father decided I should practice the duties as mistress of the house, while he's away," Angela added.

"You have this slave to look after, isn't that enough?" Bridget asked, sounding irritated.

"Cindy is my personal slave, and I'm ready for a more demanding role," Angela quietly said.

Hollie winced at the mention of her slave name. She knew Angela was using it to put her in her place. It was having an effect on her, and not a good one. The persona of Cindy the little slave girl, was becoming harder to shake off. She dare not reveal to these people she was a teacher, or even that she was an adult woman, so they too treated her like a foolish young girl.

"If your father makes that an order, it will have to be carried out," Bridget angrily retorted. She strode out of the kitchen.

"She's off to see father," Angela said, with a sound of amusement lighting her voice. 

Hollie knew something important was going on between the two of them. Something was rattling Bridget's usual calm manner. She had little time to think about it much, as she spent the morning on domestic chores. She passed the master bedroom at one point, taking the opportunity to explore the house, looking for escape routes. 

A glimpse of Bridget packing was enough to show the woman was angry. The master of the house was in his study while Bridget was up here cursing under her breath. Hollie tiptoed passed, careful not to disturb the woman. She considered this would be a good opportunity. Allying herself with Bridget against her daughter, might help her escape, or at the very least save her from further ill treatment.

The master of the house had left and Hollie was sent to find Bridget. "Hi, are you alright?" Hollie asked.

"No! I am not alright," Bridget answered tersely. "Well?" she asked.

"Your daughter, err, Angela, I mean my mistress," Hollie hesitated, finding it difficult to cope with the situation. 

"Sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you. I've been into this scene for long enough to know how it works. It's just a bit testing while my daughter learns the ropes. You adolescents are such sensitive creatures while you learn how to become adults. Well? What does she want now?" Bridget prompted.

Hollie felt like telling her she understood, as she had been through all that turmoil, though not experiencing it as a parent, on the sharp end. It seemed such a long time ago since she had gone through adolescents. 

"She wants us in the kitchen," Hollie politely answered.

"There's no need to be so formal and polite to me, young lady. I'm just a humble slave in this house. Just wait till her father gets back, and I'll give them both a hard time. Alright, I'll come with you, don't want her taking it out on you," Bridget weakly smiled.

Hollie followed the woman trying to keep up with her long strides. The woman attended diplomatic functions, representing their country, yet at home she played at being a slave. From what she had gathered the woman had been a slave even before she married. She shook her head wondering about this new world opening up to her.

Angela was waiting for them, with a pleased look on her face. 

"Father has left, so now I'm the mistress in charge of you two slaves," Angela stated. 

Hollie had worked this much out. She was wondering if the mother had made some arrangements with her husband. She hoped it wouldn't upset Angela, or the fury would be unleashed upon her.

Bridget stated to say something, but Angela cut in. "You have your secrets you want kept from your master, so I suggest you behave yourself, slave," Angela said, emphasising the word, 'slave'. 

Hollie heard a harrumph of disapproval, though the mother kept quiet. 

"What do you say, slaves?" Angela lightly asked.

"Yes, mistress," both women chorused. 

Hollie kept her head bowed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bridget bow her head too. She didn't look cowed, instead the woman looked angry, and resigned. Hollie was reassured, as this looked like an opportunity to gain an ally against a common enemy.

"I've decided to hold a dinner party for a few friends," Angela announced. 

"How many?" Bridget asked, sounding agitated. "I need to know, so as to prepare," she added, trying to sound less antagonistic. 

"Nothing sophisticated, just a few snacks in my rooms for five," Angela imperiously informed her.

"Very well, mistress," Bridget conceded. 

She hoped her daughter would grow tired of lording it over her. It was demeaning, and she hated the situation. Having her husband as lord and master was one thing, but her daughter didn't have the experience, or the right attitude. The young girl, Cindy got a kick out of being humiliated, but she hated it. She enjoyed having a strong thoughtful master, who would indulge her, yet demand obedience. 

"I'll need both slaves to serve my guests, so you had better start preparations," Angela announced.

"What! You can't reveal your mother, as a slave!" Bridget exclaimed in surprise. 

"You are right of course. All that is in hand, I have an outfit with a mask for you," Angela said. It revealed she had planned this humiliation. It was a part of the promise to put her mother in her place. 

Bridget looked as though she was going to fight, though the moment passed. 

"Thanks, Mistress," she grudgingly replied, attempting an offhand attitude. Despite the attempt it was obvious how angry she was. Anger was eating at her, from being treated so disrespectfully in her own home, by her daughter. Her husband's position demanded they keep family secrets, especially this one.

Everything was prepared and laid out in Angela's suite of rooms. Both slaves were standing by to serve the guests. Angela was inspecting her slaves. "Hold your hands out," Angela demanded, while inspecting their nails.

"Your nails are filthy, slave Hooters," Angela said, looking closely at her mother.

Bridget bridled at the temporary slave name she had been given. She did have large breasts but sophisticated older woman being referred to by them was demeaning. She took a deep breath. It was a good thing wearing a mask, so obscenities could be muttered, without upsetting her so called mistress.

Hollie wore a little skirt and a blouse tied under her breasts. Without underwear it made the outfit look even sluttier. Her hair was done in bunches in an attempt to make her look young and cute, except the chains were on display. She hung her head in shame, as well as in deference to her mistress.

Angela's mother was wearing an all in one leather cat-suit, with a hood. Her eyes shone darkly from the eye slits. Her full luscious lips, painted a glossy red, were protruding from another slit. She was adept at striking a submissive pose, which was evident, despite the smouldering anger. 

The skin-tight leather exaggerated a curvaceous body. It pulled in and clung to a slim waist. The breasts were held high and pushed out provocatively, with peep holes for both nipples. It dug deeply between the cheeks and lips, with inserts of red leather emphasising her sex. Everywhere else it clung to her like a second skin. She looked devastatingly sexy.

Hollie stole a glance, realising she too had been dressed like this, in a sex shop, by her master. The memory stirred feelings for him, knowing he hadn't expected her to be so cruelly used. He thought she was safely being looked after, while he was away.

The young boisterous guests walked in, suddenly quiet on seeing the two women.

"How do you like my servants? They are Cindy and Hooters. They owe money to a casino. The casino owner owes my father a favour, so he sent them over. He thinks my father asked for them, so don't tell anyone. If he finds out I'll be grounded for months," Angela lied.

Hollie could feel Bridget relax a little. She too was relieved to hear an excuse for their presence being made up. It sounded thin, but the youngsters hardly bothered to listen. They were too busy studying the way the two women were dressed.

"Cool!" John said, while ogling both women at once. His eyes swivelled from Hollie to Bridget, trying to decide which he liked the look of the most. Hooters was aptly named he thought.

"They're sluts," Sylvia disdainfully stated.

"Yes, maybe, but they belong to me for the day. I get to order them around, it's great," Angela laughed. 

"So what do they do?" Mark asked.

Hollie cringed on hearing his voice. She didn't need to look up, to know it was one of her students. The damn girl had invited him just to humiliate her. He wouldn't recognise her like this, away from the classroom. 

"They don't need to do anything at all," Vernon said, with a big smile on his face.

"That's not much use then," Libby added to the conversation.

"They are here to serve us. So make the most of them, they have to go back tomorrow morning," Angela grinned. 

Hollie noticed Bridget stiffen. Her daughter couldn't go too far, as she was Nathanial's slave, not hers. What was she thinking? The little shit was her daughter.

Angela was supposed to be looking after both of them, and this certainly wasn't what was expected of a mistress. Angela was getting back at her mother for something, and keeping her quiet with a threat. Hollie had caught something about a waiter, but nothing more.

"Sit down everyone. Take the order for drinks, slave Hooters and Cindy," Angela commanded. She was enjoying showing off her new authority. She particularly liked the way her mother stiffened when using the new slave name. In that outfit Hooters was especially apt.

"Where is your father," John asked, looking nervous and guilty. 

"He's away for a few days. Don't worry no one will get into trouble. These slaves won't let on about anything, as they don't want it known they owe money in a casino. Everyone got a drink? To us and college!" Angela said, raising her glass, and her voice. 

"To us and college," everyone chanted.

Hollie and Bridget served more drinks then offered snacks on a tray. The guys got a good look at Hollies cleavage and a close up of Bridget's nipples. They made lewd remarks over how tight the leather was around Bridget's crotch. Hollie took note, and was very careful how she bent over.

Bridget felt like swiping the two guys behaving like naughty schoolboys. Their parents were known to her, though none were into this scene. That's probably why her daughter invited them. It was all the more infuriating to serve youngsters she knew, like a lowly maid. 

Only last week they had all been at Vernon's parents home, served at a sophisticated party by flunkies. She had been dressed in a ball gown then, not a tight leather cat-suit, lewdly showing of her body.

The two girls were miffed, and disdainful of the two slave girls. After a couple of cocktails they disappeared to a restroom. They bitched over the two sluts, which Angela called her slaves. They were obviously hired whores from town, brought in to impress the guys. The guys obvious leering and physical interest pissed them off.

When they returned Angela judged the moment right to gain some attention. She let a drink spill as Hollie served her; careful not to let it mark her expensive dress. 

"Clumsy girl, look what you've done. Get a cloth. Quickly!" Angela sharply scolded Cindy. She would have preferred it to be her mother but Hollie had been there at the right time.

"Sorry mistress," Hollie automatically responded. She scurried back to wipe up the damp patch on the chair. On hands and knees she was embarrassed to hear the awful remarks the guys were making.

"She's got a cute ass, I can't even see the thong she's wearing," John sniggered.

"The slut isn't wearing one," Libby scathingly pointed out.

"You deserve a punishment, Cindy slave," Angela briskly stated. She wanted to laugh from having so much fun, but kept a stern face, trying to fit the contrived scene.

"Please, mistress," Hollie implored her torturer.

"Over my knee, now, Cindy," Angela demanded. 

"Ouch!" Hollie yelped, from a stinging slap. She realised Angela wanted to make a show of it, and played along, so as not to be hurt if she riled her mistress. It was humiliating being spanked before one of her students, but at least he hadn't recognised her.

After six stinging whacks her cheeks were red. When she stood up they could all see how red her face was too. Looking down she saw her blouse had come undone so quickly reached to pull it together. 

"Leave it, Cindy slave," Angela harshly warned. 

Hollie stood before the adolescents, looking down at her swollen nipples. They had seen her bare bottom being spanked, and felt this added disgrace all the more painfully.

"She has nice tits," Mark commented, trying to sound casual. 

Hollie felt horrible hearing one of her students make such a rude comment about her body.

"Remove the top and show them off, Cindy," Angela ordered.

"Yes, mistress," Hollie responded.

"So where do the chains from her nipples go?" Mark asked.

"Show him Cindy," Angela said.

Hollie looked at her mistress, trying for sympathy, but the aggressive look had her quickly obeying. She dropped the skirt to the floor. Her lips were swollen and dewy with moisture, showing off the piercings and chain connecting them. She stood among the young students, with her eyes closed tight, as though in pain. 

"The slut is soaking wet," Libby scornfully pointed out the obvious. 

"Cindy enjoys pain and humiliation," Angela revealed. 

Hollie desperately needed to run and hide, though the discipline training from Roger, kept her standing naked before them. She swayed as though in a gentle breeze, looking as though she might faint. 

"She's a hot slut," John said, with a broad grin on his face. He preferred the bigger tits on Bridget.

Bridget was relieved they were all slobbering over Cindy, and left her alone. As she was tall her daughter thought it better to wear flat shoes, which was the only sensible part of her outfit. They were necessary, as it was difficult to walk with ankle cuffs hobbling her.

She sharply looked across at her daughter on feeling fingers walking up her inner thigh. A mistress should have made the rules of engagement clear to her guests. Angela should have told them not to touch, and watched out for her. She wanted to shout at her daughter that Francis son was touching her up.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 14



Francis was an old family friend, making it all the more outrageous for this eighteen year old boy to be pushing his fingers between her legs. She clamped her thighs together, trying to give him a clear message. Unfortunately she was too late, as his hand slid up the soft black leather hitting her between the lips. 

Her gasp of pain went unnoticed, as everyone's attention was on Hollie. His fingers were wriggling between her lips, protruding in what looked like leather flaps. Certainly it must have been overwhelmingly tempting for a young guy, but she was a married woman and her daughter was sitting in the same room.

He was inexpertly pushing at her lips. When he ran a fingernail over her distended clitoris, she knew it was time to put a stop to his naughty antics. She opened her thighs and looked down at him. 

"Do you want a snack," she quietly asked. 

Making the word 'snack', sound like a slap. She remembered his father drunkenly trying to take advantage, some time ago. She had been able to steer him to a quiet corner, where he thought he could continue to fondle her bottom, and take on more. She slapped him hard across the face, sobering him in an instant. Nothing was said and never would be, of course, as they were urbane and discreet people. 

From his seat, Mark looked at the Cindy, with his eyes level with her crotch where nothing was hidden. Her swollen lips with the piercing rings held his attention. Taking in the rest of the beautiful body, he thought her smooth perfect skin was marred by the chains. He wanted to say how gorgeous she was, but held back from gushing in front of his friends. 

"The chains aren't necessary are they?" Mark asked.

"Take a look at the collar, and you'll see how they work," Angela smiled. 

He stood up to stand close to the slave, breathing in a heady perfume of shower freshness, and an unfamiliar musky odour. As instructed he lifted the collar to see the chains run over her nipples. He didn't need encouragement to examine them further down. He intently watched the chains gathered together between her legs, through a small ring in her pussy. The links vibrated over her fleshy parts, to pull on her lips. 

It was fascinating watching her sex opening up from pulling on her collar. He imagined having control of her while in class, or out somewhere. Whenever he felt like it he could pull on her pussy lips, to work her up. She was certainly breathing heavily now. 

Hollie looked around at them, to see they were staring at her sex, not looking at her face. There was little chance of them recognising her. She glanced across at Bridget, who gave her a brief flicker of a smile as encouragement. 

The humiliation was enough to get her going, with the added stimulation of the chain links rubbing her clit. It was so damnably humiliating, being so helpless, while one of her students was stoking her up.

"See what happens when you touch her there," Angela encouraged.

Mark gently touched her glistening lips. It was the first time he had seen a woman's sex, and only vaguely knew how it worked. He was hard put to name all the bits, missing her swollen clitoris completely. His finger touched the hole, which seemed the centre of attention among the chains.

Hollie deeply sucked in a gasp of air. A trembling, lilting sound vibrated from her throat, on the outward puff of air. 

"Did I hurt you?" Mark asked, showing great concern. It all looked so inflamed and sore down there. His finger remained on the edge of her gaping vagina. 

"Push it in, she needs it. She's gasping for it," Angela chuckled.

Everyone was hushed, as though spellbound, by what he was doing to the girl, and the reaction he was receiving. 

Unsure what he should do, he found his finger taking Angela's advice. A little frightened of entering her, he nevertheless found the finger easily sliding in the slick hole. The sharp cry, as though she were in pain, made him look at her for reassurance that he hadn't hurt her. 

For the first time, he looked at her face, and immediately matched it with a name. 

The croak from a dry mouth was his teacher's name, 'Hollie', fortunately too soft a sound to be heard by the others. She opened her eyes wide, looking at him with an expression rippling over her features from surprise, fear, and passion. He grasped onto the look of passion, while also griping tight the chains. 

He felt his teacher's pussy grip his finger. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," he blurted out.

"The slut isn't hurt, she just cum," Sylvia laughed. 

"She's very sensitive," Angela laughed along with her.

"Come here, Cindy, on your knees," Angela ordered.

Hollie was still trembling from the orgasm. It seemed Angela was right. She was so very damnably sensitive the slightest touch set her off, without any foreplay at all. She suspected it had something to do with those horrible vibrators working her hard last night. She hoped the sensitivity would wear off soon, as it left her so very prone to abuse.

Hollie was horrified to find she had to put her head up the girl's dress. Angela had both hands on the back of her head, rubbing her face over her pussy. "Get on with it Cindy," Angela commanded, and closed her eyes.

Mark couldn't avoid the cute bottom bent over before him. His teacher's lips were pushing between her thighs, glistening wet, as though winking and beckoning to him. 

Hollie felt a strong pair of hands grab her hips, digging hard fingers into her soft flesh. She knew it had to be her student, Mark. She felt his hard cock slide up, across her lips, missing her sex. She moaned a protest into her mistress's pussy, when feeling him push at her asshole. 

It was still gaping open from her masters butt plugs, but she didn't want one of her students to take her there. Shit! How many times would her downfall be rubbed in by a student like this? This time the hardness moved and pushed at her wet hole. Without much effort the engorged head invaded her body. She felt her students cock slide all the way inside, deeper and deeper, filling her up. 

She had an orgasm on the first thrust. Groans of passion were muffled by her mistress's pussy lips. On the second thrust she began to build up again, until the fourth deep penetration, when an orgasm had her gripping his cock tight with orgasmic spasms. He was nervous and tense, so not likely to orgasm quickly. It meant she would be climaxing almost continuously until he was ready to dump his load into her.

Hollie was almost hysterical, induced from being in the grip of a continuous set of orgasms. The inexperienced oaf was giving her one climax after another, until they merged into one mighty cum. She shook her head, rubbing her face over Angela's pussy, poked her with her cute button nose, and poked in her tongue as deep as possible.

She was frantic from a deep passion shocking her body and psyche. A small part of her brain sat back, wondering why it had to be this young inexperienced guy, who had her in such a high state of euphoria.

Angela had only meant to shock her friends then offer the slave to Sylvia, who was bi, if not fully lesbian like Libby. Instead she was being carted away on a wild enthusiastic ride of passion that her slave was generating. She hadn't realised how passionate her slave could be. The slave girl was rubbing, sucking, kissing and working on her in frenzy.

"Can we have the slave," Vernon asked. 

"Yes, go ahead, make use of her," Angela said, through gritted teeth. She was so close to an orgasm it hurt.

Mark and Angela were taking the slave girl, putting on a powerful show. Sylvia was captivated by the head working away under Angela's dress. Angela's salubrious exhibition also excited and influenced her friend. When it rode up revealing the slave working hard between Angela's thighs, Libby couldn't hold on any longer. 

Taking advantage, she snuggled Sylvia into her fleshy breasts, feeding her an engorged nipple. Sylvia didn't reject her instead she pleasantly sucked and bit her nipples. She guided Sylvia down between her legs, once her friend was excited enough to comply. 

Vernon had been quiet throughout, taking it all in yet holding back. After asking Angela for the slave, he turned around to see John, pull the slave's head down into his lap. Vernon couldn't wait for his friend to finish with Hooters. 

John was working her head up and down his cock. He didn't care about her protests, he took what he needed. He buried his cock down her throat, oblivious to her protests. "Take it whore, all of it," he said. With his cock buried deep, he leaned forward pressing her face into his groin, and slapped her ass. 

It must of her hurt through the thin leather stretched tight over her bottom, for it hurt his hand. He leaned back in the chair, letting her do all the work. She had learnt her lesson to obey him, so all he had to do was watch, and feel his cock being swallowed. He marvelled at the way her throat swelled with his cock. The feeling of her tongue playing with the underside of his cock was good. She even began to fondle his balls. Watching her head bob up and down his shaft was very satisfying.

Vernon pulled apart the seam of suits crotch, and thrust into her sex. The slave bucked with her legs, trying to push him off, but he wound an arm around her waist and held on tight. He got into a steady rhythm, rocking her back and forth, pushing her up and down John's cock.

Angela opened her eyes. They were glassy from the passion surging through her entire body. She had never considered being gay, but this experience was too much for her to shake off. It wasn't just a pleasant experience it was tumultuous. 

Her eyes focused on the black shape bent almost double, with two sweaty guys working hard. Shit! They were fucking her mother! 

"No!" she yelled, but they didn't hear, or thought it was passion that ripped the desperate rasping sound from her throat. 

Mark began to orgasm. He sounded off with a string of gasped, blissful, 'yes', words. His legs violently shuddered, transferring the vibration to Hollie, and on to Angela. Angela looked at him, feeling the sensations on her pussy in time with his movements. She felt as though he were shooting into her. The deep orgasm she was experiencing climbed a notch. 

It was a long slow set of sensations, from her limbs, colliding within her belly. Out again went the nerve numbing shocks. She was looking at Mark shooting his load into her slave, feeling as though they were spilling from slave's mouth into her. Too weak to move her head flopped to one side, making her watch the slave in black. 

She watched her mother being drilled by her two friends, knowing there wasn't even a last gasp with which she could shout for them to stop. Not that anything would stop them fucking her now. Her mother had given up struggling, giving in to the inevitable. 

Angela watched silently, as they forcefully drove into her mother, with strong youthful vigour. She whimpered, with a sound seeming come from a winding down of an orgasm. It was from a dire need to shout at them. How could she tell her friends not to cum in her mother? 

They rocked her back and forth between them for a few strokes more, then suddenly quit. They arched their backs, thrusting their cocks deep into her mother's throat and vagina.

"No! Please don't cum in my mom," Angela yelped, only no one was listening. 

Angela was almost down from her own orgasm, yet she couldn't sop licking and sucking. Hollie felt Mark pumping his cum deeply into her. His cock was so long it seemed to reach her belly, as he fired into her. Feeling his cock pressing at the neck of her womb, she imagined it spurt right up into her womb.

Libby twisted Sylvia's nipples hard, leaned her head back, and groaned. "Sorry, Sylvia, I didn't mean to hurt you," she whispered. Sylvia looked up at her with glistening eyes and a big smile on her face. It was also covered with her friend's sex juices. Libby pulled Sylvia close, lapping at her friends face, and nipped her lips with gentle bites. She kissed her eyes while hugging her tight. She slipped her fingers into Sylvia's panties to finish her new intimate friend off.

Angela watched the two guys gripping her mom's body. Bridget's mouth was held down over John's cock, while he pumped sperm into it. Vernon's legs quivered, as he too held his cock tight in her body. 

Bridget had given up trying to break free soon after feeling a cock thrust into her vagina. The shock of it froze her for a moment. When she pushed with her legs, whoever it was taking her, gripped her tight, so both head and body were trapped. 

The two young lads worked her hard, but it was an unwelcome intrusion. They weren't strangers raping her they were friend's sons using her body. Invited into her home by her daughter, and dressed the way she was, they couldn't be blamed. Especially as they had been told she was a bought woman.

She felt the young mans sperm spurting into her mouth first. It tasted nasty yet she had to swallow, for his cock was tightly pressed into her mouth. As an experienced slave she knew what to do. Bridget sucked hard and quickly, to avoid it settling on her tongue where it tasted bitter.

It was annoying having a young guy fuck her pussy. She was a mature and sophisticated wife of a career diplomat. Yet she was being used by a young fool with little experience. He had been staring at her crotch all evening, so must have figured out how it came apart when she was unaware it was even possible. 

Without a word he had thrust into her, almost lifting her off her feet with the sheer force of entry. He had on her toes with the first lusty heave. As he manoeuvred for comfort, his not hers, she slithered down his cock. She couldn't hold herself up any longer, her toes and feet gave way. She felt herself gripping his cock tight, bearing down upon it, to give the lad a thrilling free ride. 

The feeling of impaling herself upon his virile hard cock was infuriating. It was all wrong. He should be grateful, and be working hard for her pleasure. He soon took over and rammed her hard with his strong leg muscles. He pounded away at her enthusiastically. Leaving her feeling used. 

All she could think about was meeting their parents at a dinner party, or official function. It would make interesting conversation, discussing their sons fucking techniques. 

She could tell John's mother he had a nice tasting cock, but he was far too rough. The boy had just shoved it down her throat, without the slightest thought to her needs. He had messed up her hair too, by wrapping his fists in it. 'By the way, if you send him round to gain experience, tell him not to slap my ass again,' she imagined.

Vernon's mother could be told her son hadn't bothered with foreplay, or even asked permission, he just thrust all the way in. It had hurt, not because he was too big, it was because it was so unexpected. What points he gained for youthful vigour, he lost on technique. He just thrust at her as though trying to dig a tunnel.

When Vernon climaxed deep inside her vagina, it moved her physically. Her legs gave way, so she was held between them by their cocks. They receded rapidly, allowing her to slump to the floor. On hands and knees she crawled away to her bedroom.

The guys shuffled away murmuring their thanks to Angela. Mark dare not look at his teacher. He had cum so much into her it was running from her pussy. He wasn't too sure if that was supposed to happen or not. He had a fumbling experience with a girlfriend, but nothing like that. 

The two girls hugged Angela and excitedly. "You certainly know how to throw a party, Angela. It was brilliant. The two whores were an inspiration," Sylvia said, and shared a smile with her new lover. 

Angela only just managed to grimace smiles and not shout at anyone. They left of their own accord, some looking guilty and happy. Mark looked both, all rolled into one. She remembered he had fucked his teacher, so no wonder he was looking that way. She figured he would have some happy memories. 

It was no consolation to her though. She had let her mother down, so very badly. She had failed with the most fundamental rule; that a mistress must look after her slave. She was in trouble, deep shit trouble. She was bound to lose her slave Cindy, when father returned. 

She would have to think of something. She needed a cunning plan to cover her mistakes, and set things up ready for Roger's return. She looked around the empty room. Where were the slaves?



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 15



Angela shuffled back to her room after muted goodbyes to her friends. Each of them was happy and embarrassed for different reasons. All she could think about was those two young guys taking her mother. While in a state of rapturous pleasure, she hadn't been able to prevent it, though she would still be in real trouble for letting it happen, when her father returned home.

By the time she noticed the two of them using her helpless mother, it was too late. They hadn't realised who it was they were using like a common whore. What could she have done? Shouted at her friends to stop fucking her mother? Should she have pleaded with them to pull their cocks from her mother's mouth and pussy? 

Damn it! Her father had left her in charge, as mistress of the home and the slaves. It should have been another stage in her training experience, yet it ended in a disaster. She had let everyone down. 

The damn teacher had been fucked by one of her students, which wasn't too bad, except for her. The guy loved fucking his teacher, though he pretended not to recognise her. 

Angela collapsed on the bed sobbing a flood of tears.

Hollie stared at her mistress, unable to feel sorry for the harridan. 

***

Angela was supposed to be her mistress, and taking care of her for Roger. Yet the nasty girl had spanked her, and stripped her naked before the young eighteen year old guests. They had laughed at the large hoop earrings, taking a great delight in reading the words slut, dangling from them. They recognised her as a slut, not as a professional teacher.

They had thoroughly humiliated her by playing with the piercings in her nipples and pussy lips. One of her students, Mark had been playing with her slave collar, working the chains pulling on her sex. 

The look of recognition in Mark's eyes, while she stood naked before him, still whirled through her head. She had been stoked up by the humiliation of being a sexual plaything for these adolescents to taunt. Breathing heavily, almost ready to orgasm, he looked at her closely, and recognised her as his teacher. The awful look of shock on his face left her feeling small and insignificant. All she could do was obediently let him play with her body, while the cruel adolescents goaded him on.

Angela demonstrated her dominance by ordering Hollie to lick her mistress's pussy, in front of everyone. When Hollie felt a cock enter her, she just knew it was Mark. Burying her face in Angela's sopping pussy was the only escape. When Angela roughly pushed her away, she crawled off to the bedroom, like a naughty pet bitch, with a tail between her legs.

***

Deciding this might be an opportunity to escape, Hollie took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She crawled from the closet where she had been hiding.

"Mistress, are you alright?" she asked, putting on a sound of concern.

"No!" Angela angrily retorted. 

Hollie stroked her hair and nestled her like a child, feeling a hypocrite from the distaste she felt for the girl. 

"Get some sleep, you'll feel a lot better in the morning," she soothingly spoke. Not understanding the girl's mumbled complaints, she was nevertheless pleased to hear her quieten down. Eventually her breathing subsided until she began to snore. 

Hollie quietly slipped away, relieved not to be blamed for whatever Angela was angry about. On the deep pile carpet she silently made her way along the corridor, passing the mother's bedroom. Peering in she saw the woman spread out on a king sized bed, still wearing the tight leather bodysuit, with the crotch pulled open. A glance was enough to see she was deeply involved in a sexual fantasy. 

***

Bridget was furious over her daughter's misuse of her. She understood why her husband had left their daughter in charge of the home and her, but it was still demeaning to be her daughter's slave. She shouldn't have been serving at the party, even though her face had been covered, so she wasn't recognised.

Her daughter should have remained aloof from it all, so as to look after her two slaves. Instead she became involved and lost control, letting two of her friend's sons take advantage. They had given her no choice. The two adolescents had roughly taken her with the vigour of youth, driving their cocks hard into her body.

She lay back with eyes closed, slowly rubbing the boys leaking cum over her engorged pussy lips. She pouted her lips to suck a sperm wet finger, remembering the other boy roughly fucking her mouth. She tasted their bitter sex juice, revelling in the appalling use of her body by two, young virile men. This time it was a slow stimulation of her senses, for a prolonged build to a powerful orgasm. 

***

Hollie quietly left her to it, making her way downstairs. With both women out of the way she could explore the master's library. She hesitated on the threshold of the powerful male dominion. It smelt of polished leather, with a background layer of cigar smoke, laced with single malt whisky. 

Hollie jumped back a step when a clock chimed. It was getting late, with little time to be worried about an empty room. Overcoming the fright spurred her on. Heading straight to the large old fashioned desk, she defiantly pulled the chair from the desk's well, obviously positioned by the master of the house. Sliding each draw in turn she found nothing of importance. Her heart began to flutter at the prospect of the vital items being locked in a safe.

At the back of the bottom left draw, was a package. Carefully slitting open a brown envelope, with an ornate paperknife, she tipped the contents onto the green leather desktop. Three keys sparkled among the papers. The sudden metallic noise sounded loud in the quiet muffled room, startling her. Taking a deep breath she reached for the documents, and stuffed them back into the envelope. 

She sat on the edge of the chair, with legs spread, hoping these were the ones she needed. With both hands to steady the shakes, she matched a key to a lock. It didn't fit. She took the other key and tried it on one of the wrist cuffs. "Damn!" she quietly exclaimed.

Realising her mistake she guided the key to a tiny lock at her crotch. The hand shook too much to enter the hole. One hand shook the lock, and the key trembled in the other. "Get a grip! You stupid little slave girl," Hollie fiercely told herself.

The key at last slid into the bottom of the lock. She had to suppress a cry of joy when it turned. A knuckle caught her lips, and without thinking she touched her sex. Before she could think to stop, her finger was worming its way inside, with a thumb pressing upon her swollen bud.

She lifted her legs upon the desk, spreading them wide, while frigging her pussy hard. A few strokes and she silently climaxed. Breathing heavily she was at least relieved to find her hands no longer shook. Finding she was still so very sensitive proved to be an added problem. 

Carefully she pulled the chains from between her legs, running them between two fingers, to prevent contact with her sex. Though her nipples were sensitive, pulling them through the piercing rings wasn't so fraught with danger. Now the ends were loose she could at last pull them through the slave collar loop.

Almost free!

The first key she pushed into a cuff lock, and turned it. She rubbed her free wrist vigorously, delighting at the wonderful feeling. The other wrist was unlocked then quickly the ankle locks were opened, freeing her of the Sirik chains. They dangled heavily from the slave collar as a potent symbol of her status. Threading the chains carefully through the collar, the balance suddenly shifted. The links rattled through the loop to pool in a heap at her feet. 

Hollie slumped back onto the chair, feeling weak and so very happy. A big smile lit her face for the first time in days. It felt like weeks. She was free of her slave chains, though the feeling of being enslaved would take far longer to shake off.

Leaning back in the chair she began to realise there was no going back now. She would have to make her escape. Where was Roger? She tapped a keyboard to find the computer was alive, and still signed on with Angela's profile. A list of emails appeared, though nothing from Roger was listed. 

Her slave name Cindy was in the title of the latest email. Hesitating from the need to run and escape, she nevertheless clicked on it to see the content. She gasped, and read the damning document again. Angela had arranged for her to be collected tomorrow morning, by a Pony Training master!

Hollie sat back in the chair, playing back in her mind all that had been said about such a strict training regime. "The fucking bitch!" Hollie exclaimed. The uncharacteristic curse awoke a deep latent anger. All that the girl had done to her came flooding into her mind, demanding retribution. 

Hollie walked into Angela's bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. The girl was on her back with mouth wide, snoring with the sound of a jet engine. She pinched a nipple to rouse her. Angela was bigger, and stronger, so she had to be careful.

"Here, drink this, you must be dry," Hollie quietly encouraged. 

Without a thank you, or the slightest acknowledgement, Angela knocked back the fruit juice. She turned over and fell back to sleep.

Hollie was pleased with the adolescent tendency to need plenty of sleep, as it made the task so much easier. Watching the nasty girl for a moment from the doorway, she turned away at last feeling safe, and made her way to the mother's room.

She too was asleep, with a hand clamped between her thighs. The leather crotch had been pulled apart revealing her sex. The leather and her pussy were covered in strong, acrid smelling juices. The drying mess encrusted the leather and the woman's hand. 

"Here, drink this and have a good sleep," Hollie told Bridget. She hoped using a firm tone of voice would get the woman to respond without question. In a state of drowsiness Bridget responded, by sipping the juice then quenched her thirst with a lusty swallow. 

She murmured something about her damned daughter, without opening her eyes, and fell back into a deep sleep.

Hollie took the glass out with her, knowing she wouldn't be disturbed for the rest of the night. The sleeping draft was powerful enough to keep an elephant dozy. 

Returning to her arch rival she set to work, looking through the girl's toy box and closet. With a pile of objects on the floor, she was ready. Gently turning her over, Hollie carefully undressed her. 

Standing back she admired the new image. This young girl had kept her as a sex slave, punishing her until she was willing to obey every demeaning demand. Angela knew full well Hollie was a teacher and an adult, choosing to treat her like a stupid little pet, instead of looking after her for Roger. It wasn't his fault she had fallen into this girl's devious trap.

Now it was Angela who was dressed in chains, as a slave rather than a mistress, just as she deserved. This wasn't enough of a retribution for all that had been suffered. The girl was laying on her side, with both arms and legs drawn up her back by the Sirik. She eased the ball gag harness over the new slave's head. Pinching her nose, Hollie placed the ball in the open mouth, and tightened the harness, locking it snugly in her mouth.

Angela loudly snorted and started to wake. Her eyes flickered then closed, as she began noisily sucking air through her nose, with saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth. 

Hollie reached down to the floor for a toy. Easing the girl's legs apart she stroked then probed her sex. Rubbing in lubrication as she went, her fingers opened up the girl's pussy, enough to smoothly insert a rubber dildo. She did the same for her asshole. This time with less trouble spent on opening it up. The muffled grunting revealed she was in pain, but she didn't fully wake.

Hollie again wondered if her own pussy would recover from that night of torment, with two vibrators inside her body. They had worked away at her all night, leaving her pussy so sensitive, the slightest touch brought her to a state of deep arousal. This girl deserved what was planned. Rather than just leave her trusted up like this, Hollie decided to thoroughly teach her a lesson.

Back in the mother's bedroom, she had to make sure the woman didn't interfere with her plans. She eased the woman's legs together, and tightened the ankle cuffs. Turning her over, Hollie fastened the wrist cuffs behind her back. A bright red ball gag matched the red flashes of leather emphasising her sex. 

The woman's vagina was still wet and leaking, so she fetched a dildo and shoved it in. The woman grunted from this rude intrusion to her body, but didn't stir much. Hollie pulled the red leather over her sex sealing in the dildo. In her sleep she flexed her thighs, gripping the dildo, probably in some favourite fantasy.

Hollie set to work in the woman's closet, rejecting most of the clothes as the woman was taller, and bigger busted than she was. It was no good there was nothing to fit her there.

Returning to Angela's room she was relieved to find the sleeping draft working, for the girl slept heavily. This time she found exactly what she was looking for in Angela's closet. 

Hollie sat at the old fashioned desk in the master's study, examining papers from an envelope found earlier. Roger had provided the keys to her slave chains, though not the collar. A note stated he intended to contact the manufacturer for a copy. Damn! She was stuck with the slave collar for life, if she didn't get a key! He mentioned a serial number, but it wasn't written down on the note. 

She fingered her slave collar, musing over how happy she had been to be collared, and named Cindy, to become his permanent slave. Whenever he called her his little slave girl, it left her feeling young and contented. 

Reading through another document, this time typed and looking official, she noticed her name with a personal description. She started to read it again. It was a slave ownership document. It was all there, her previous name, date of birth, place of birth, a lewd description of her body, domestic ability, slave training, and characteristics as a slave, were all detailed. 

Shit! There was a mention of her breeding capabilities. She was described as an object, like a prized animal, even with a value!

Some of the information must have come from her computer at home, when she had a home. All her possessions were in storage somewhere. Roger was so familiar with her naked body he had no problem describing it. 

Her skills as a sex object were shockingly detailed too. The capacity of her asshole to take an object, had a measurement included!

The last page could be filled in by the next owner, with price paid, new skills acquired, and body modifications. She didn't like the list of body modifications. It listed tattoos, piercings, and cosmetic surgery. Damn! The document was thorough! It also meant she could be sold on, with new masters adding modifications to her body, and training her to be whatever they wanted from a slave.

Hollie fingered a nipple ring and the piercings in her sex. She had already been modified to suit a master, and been branded with a slave number tattoo. When thought about, in terms of this document, it felt overwhelming. To be declared a slave so blatantly was the ultimate humiliation. 

Her pussy began to flow with juices, glistening on thighs and the leather chair. She was despoiling a master's chair, and felt like naughty little slave girl for doing it. How could she expect to escape the feeling of being a helpless slave, dependent upon a master; even if she ran far away?

Hollie scrunched up in the chair as she climaxed, bringing her knees up to her nerve tingling tummy, feeling the orgasm radiate throughout her body. 

She slumped in the chair, knowing she had to leave, after what she had done to Angela and her mother. She needed to get away as far as possible, and to cover her tracks. She needed time. The men would come tomorrow for her and all they would find was Angela and her mother. 

Hollie stared at the keyboard for a moment and dared to touch it. With trembling fingers she slowly began a return email, to the Pony-girl trainer. It was sent. In the morning all her strength of will would be needed to face them. 

***

Hollie straightened the sensible looking tweed skirt and jacket. The skirt was below the knee and the tailored jacket was buttoned up, as was the blouse, to cover her throat and the slave collar. She was delaying the moment of opening the door. 

While examining herself in a mirror she noticed the large, slutty hoop earrings. So used to wearing them, she had forgotten to remove the nasty things. Quickly pulling them off, they were thrown on a hall stand. Opening the door she briskly ushered the two men in. 

Straightening her back, and pulling her shoulders up, for extra height, she still had to look up at them, yet attained a look of authority. 

"Did you receive my late email, young man," Hollie officiously asked. Dressed like a fussy school mistress, helped her act the part. She had in mind an old teacher, from high school, to base the act upon. 

"Yes, ma'am," the young man politely answered. 

"Are there just the two of you? Do you think you can handle the extra slave?" Hollie asked, while looking them over.

"Yes ma'am, we have plenty of experience in handling slaves, don't you worry none. We'll be gone in a twinkling, with no fuss, just as soon as you provide the paperwork, if you please, ma'am," the young man said.

Taken aback at the unexpected request, Hollie played for time. "I'm glad to hear you have good manners, young man. I assume you had a good upright mother to guide you," she stated. 

"Why thank you ma'am, I did. She was a rock of righteousness and a good Christian woman," he smiled broadly. 

"Well, I trust you both to find your way upstairs to their rooms. I'll fetch the paperwork," Hollie told them, and turned back to the study.

Quickly scanning the emails sent by Angela, she found what it was he had been asking for. It was the women's slave papers. Damn! Angela didn't have any, and she had no idea where the mother's slave papers were.

She picked up her own papers, wondering if they would do. She would have to bluff it. Remembering it from yesterdays search, she opened a draw where a number was tapped. It was faded from being well thumbed. Urgently scanning the room she noticed a dirty scuff mark, alongside one of the paintings. When looking for a sign, it was a give away. Yes! The safe was there, and it opened at the first attempt; turning the tumbler left then right, for each number. 

While rummaging through stacks of papers she heard muffled yells from Angela, as they passed the study, toward the front door. The girl didn't sound fully awake yet, though enough to give them a struggle. She heard a sharp slap, followed by louder protests. The gag would at least keep the deception up for awhile. 

There were official looking documents haphazardly thrown in to the small space, which she discarded on the floor at her feet. The man might be a diplomat, but he was a terrible organiser. Thankfully she knew what to look for. There it was, right at the bottom of the safe. Opening it revealed the name and details, in a format much the same as hers.

It was the woman's life history as a slave. She glanced through the list of owners, reading there had only been two, before her husband. Noting the woman's date of birth, and the transfer dates, she calculated the woman had been enslaved at an early age. The first owner was probably her father. 

Hollie felt sorry for the woman. She had never been a free woman, being enslaved as a girl. Reading the notes she found the first sale had her down as a virgin. A high price had been obtained for that attribute.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 15



Hearing the woman being led away, she quickly shoved the papers back into the wall safe. Bundling both lots of slave papers into the same large brown envelope, she went to find the men. Standing at the door, she watched the mother being guided into the back of an ordinary looking white van. 

She must have noticed her daughter in there, as her whole body stiffened, and she pushed back with her feet. The two men guiding her, shoved the woman inside. They climbed in after her, and bent over the woman, now lying flat out on the van's floor.

Hollie guessed they were tightly manacling her, as Angela had been. One, then the other climbed out, and started walking toward her. For a moment Hollie felt weak and frail, unable to move. If they decided she was a slave, or closely examined the papers to discover her true status, she would be in trouble. 

They were experienced at this sort of thing, and would quickly subdue her. Her heart began racing, wondering if they had seen through her act. She wasn't really a mistress, and certainly not in this important man's home. Did they know him? Was he a well known master, recognised throughout the mysterious world of slavery?

Her hands shook, the movement exaggerated by the envelope she held. If they whisked all three of them away, who would know? She had wiped the list of emails from the computer, detailing the arrangement for them to be trained. How would anyone trace them? 

They would be thoroughly trained, broken in as obedient pony-girls, hardly able to remember a previous existence. Each would be sold on to a master, and lost into that particular exclusive world of equine fancy. She would become a pony-girl, living the rest of her life as a thoughtless animal. 

Hollie felt faint as they approached, ready to collapse at their feet.

"Are you alright ma'am, you look pale," the young man asked, looking concerned.

"I'll be alright, thank you. It has been a trying few days, with the slaves being so rebellious. They didn't want Cindy to leave. That's why I decided to send both of them, as they were getting so out of hand. I was up late last night securing them, so they didn't make a fuss. They need a firm training regime," she added.

"Don't you fret ma'am, they'll receive the best slave training in the country. We have a second to none reputation for breaking in fillies. They won't be uppity ever again, mark my words, ma'am," he reassuringly smiled.

"I'm forgetting my hospitality, gentlemen. Would you like some refreshments before you leave?" she asked, while fanning her face with the envelope.

"Thank you ma'am, but we have a long trip ahead of us, so the sooner we leave the sooner we'll be home," he said, looking pointedly at the envelope.

"Just one thing, I didn't have a chance to make the planned modifications to slave Cindy. They're in the documentation, but not carried out. If convenient, perhaps you could see to them?" she sweetly asked.

Hollie couldn't help smiling over the thought of Angela being pierced, and branded with a slave number.

"Of course ma'am, it will be a pleasure, all part of the service," he smiled. With the slave documents in his hand, he gallantly saluted, and smartly turned to stride back to the van. His companion climbed in, and she thankfully watched them drive away.

Hollie should have been elated, having exacted her revenge on the torturer. With them both out of the way, it gave her a better chance of escaping. However, she felt guilty over what she had committed them to. 

She shuddered at the thought of a harsh pony training regime, where they would be turned into obedient ponies. It wouldn't be so bad, as the master of the house would be back in a couple of days, so they wouldn't suffer for long.

Hollie grabbed the chains with keys, as well as Roger's house key. The taxi pulled up on time and she climbed in, not even glancing back at the dreadful house. The driver treated her like an ordinary person, yet she felt every bit a slave, on a desperate bid for freedom. Little did he know there was such a world, where rich men kept submissive women as their sex pets.

Arriving at Roger's home she undressed, and hung up the clothes in a small hall closet. She chuckled to herself, upon realising how automatically she stripped naked. It hadn't occurred to her to wear underwear, so ingrained was the slave training. The habit would have to be broken, like so many others. 

How would it look when taking home a boyfriend for the first time, if in a nervous state she automatically stripped off? She would have to get used to wearing underwear again, before starting a new job. There would be time to recover once away from this world of debauchery, and back in the real world. 

She walked through the lounge, on her way to the bedroom to recover her cash. The place was full of erotic memories, bringing with them a nagging feeling of need. 

Hollie froze in fear. Someone was in the kitchen, and she was standing there naked, feeling vulnerable and afraid. A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, which she caught out of the corner of her eye. So afraid, she was unable to move her head around, to see who it was. A sinking feeling gripped her, that this was the end of her bid for freedom. 

***

Nathanial usually arranged for a driver, though under the circumstances he thought it best to rent a car. Late at night he sat waiting in a dark corner of a parking lot, becoming impatient. A favour for a friend seemed like a good idea at the time. After a full day of meetings he was too tired to play games, especially a waiting game. If they didn't turn up in the next ten minutes he would leave.

A limousine pulled up beside him, and a familiar face smiled back. They got out and shook hands, while the man looked around nervously. 

"Thanks for this, it's much appreciated. I promised to take her on for a couple of weeks, and now I've been called away," he said, giving Nathanial a meaningful look. 

Nathanial knew the kind of business the man was in, and how suddenly a deal could develop. There was a time when he looked down on arms manufacturers, and their shady dealings. At the moment he could use some lucrative business to ease his financial difficulties. A reputation for honesty, with high ideals, was a definite disadvantage these days.

"She won't be any trouble. She's been into the scene for some years, so she knows the routine. There's a list of her particular needs in the document. Some expenses too, just in case you need to purchase something special," he said, handing over a well padded envelope. 

It was Nathanial's turn to nervously look around. He was aware of colleagues selling confidential information, and had been tempted. This was different, as it was just a favour, for a friend. So why did he feel guilty? Nothing illegal was going on, for he was just looking after someone. The clandestine meeting at a late hour was getting to him. His friend was too used to a discreet rendezvous, so here they were.

When the woman was pulled from the back seat, he saw why it had to be so discreet. He recognised her immediately as a congressman's wife. He had no idea she was into this sort of thing. She wore a gag, and her arms were tightly secured behind her back. 

For a moment he wondered if this might be a set up, to blackmail him for information. After all, he was an advisor to an influential committee, and a special envoy. He examined her carefully, as the man roughly shoved her into the back of the rented car. She submitted to his forceful man-handling, indicating the promised experience was true. 

Without complaint and without being told, she laid on the back seat. The man covered her with a blanket, and Nathanial was grateful, as he hadn't thought about hiding her. For some reason he thought she would just travel as a passenger, until they got home. If this was an example of how she wanted to be treated, he wondered what was on the list. He just hoped she was a good cook, and would fit into his household without much bother.

While driving he mused over what his wife would say, when bringing home a beautiful blonde. Bridget was his slave, as well as a wife and a mother. She juggled the roles splendidly, especially at important official functions. Everyone thought she was a respectful and devoted wife, not suspecting their relationship at home. 

She could be dutiful, and a handful, even when in the role of obedient slave. She was obedient and submissive, up to a point, just so long as she got her way. Having so much experience as a slave, she knew how to manipulate a situation to her advantage.

In any case, it was always difficult introducing a new slave into the household. At one point he had four slaves, including Bridget, and it seemed easier to handle them all. They competed with each other to please him, with good behaviour and obedience. 

Having to sell them due to the financial situation had hurt his pride. He found them good homes, with the right masters for their individual needs, despite needing the best price for them. That thought reminded him that a word concerning their spending habits was over due. It would be a painful moment, for they were already disgruntled over their reduced allowances.

Arriving home he helped the woman out of the car, and guided her through the back entrance. With relief he noticed all the lights were off, indicating they were asleep. She tamely followed him to his study. Standing behind her he looked the attractive woman over. 

She was a gorgeous sexy woman, and all his to command for the next two weeks. He unfastened the cuffs, noting how tightly they had been locked. Her arms fell to her sides, where she wriggled the fingers to regain some circulation. A discreet movement, revealing how used to being tightly bound she was.

"Get undressed, slave," he fiercely announced. Once naked she stood to attention, still gagged. He undid the straps securing it around her head, and let it fall to her feet. She worked her jaw silently. Satisfied with what he saw, he took a seat at his desk. He noted his daughter had used it, and not put the chair back properly. 

He unsealed the envelope to examine the slave documents. He wasn't surprised to see her slave name was as demeaning as her list of accomplishments. 

"Well slave, what do you have to say for yourself?" he asked.

"Your slave, Fanny, is here to serve you, Master," Rachael solemnly stated.

She glanced up at him and gasped. "Oh! Nathanial!" she exclaimed. 

It was hard to keep a straight face. He wanted to burst out laughing at her reaction. For her sake, as well as his, he would continue with the slave, master relationship. There was no backing out now, and she would realise it in a moment.

She hugged her naked body trying to hide it from him. A completely useless gesture, as he had studied her for the last ten minutes, while reading her ownership papers.

"There must be some kind of mistake," she squeaked. 

He watched the lines of panic cross her face, while obviously attempting to think of some excuse, as to why she was standing before him naked.

How in hell did this happen? She had always played her naughty games with strangers, yet here she was with a man she knew. Arrangements had always been made through reliable contacts, who were into the bondage scene. As much as she wanted to hide her sordid secret from this friend of her husband's, there was nothing she could do, except escape into the familiar role of slave.

"Is this the shoddy way you have been trained. It is certainly not the standard of behaviour your master expects from a slave in this home. Assume your position, NOW!" he fiercely demanded. 

He watched her face turn a deeper shade of crimson, as she hesitated for a split second. She turned around to bend over from the waist, to present her bottom to him. She reached around to pull her peachy cheeks apart, showing off a gaping asshole. The lips of her pussy protruded between her slim thighs. He watched them become engorged, opening up with a slick film of sex juices.

Without thinking she bent over, assuming her slave position automatically, propelled into it by the commanding tone of voice. It was bad enough displaying her submission in such a demeaning pose to a stranger, but with someone that she would have to entertain at official functions, it was intolerable.

Despite the vileness of the situation she felt her body becoming aroused. It was terribly obvious too. He was an experienced master, so he would know exactly how to keep her in her place. Damn! Up till now the longest she had played around was for a weekend. Why did it have to be him, having control of her for two whole weeks?

He had her slave ownership documents on his desk, and had read through them carefully, as though they were important government papers. They revealed all her wicked secrets. Everything was in there, every little foible, and every nasty depraved need was listed. Shit!

She always provided a list of rules for a naughty weekend, with strict restrictions on her use. If they stepped out of line she would leave. This was different, so bloody awkward, it was an impossible situation to be in. It was vital he kept her secret life away from the public arena, or her husband's career would be ruined. More than ever before, she would be a complete slave, compelled to obey.

The dreadful prospect aroused a deep passion within the dark side of her mind. This man had her at his mercy, and she was painfully aware he would show her none. 

Nathanial grabbed a fistful of long blonde hair to drag her to his desk. He pinned the slave over it, with a heavy hand on her back. His penis was already out and upright. From an open jar he fingered grease between her cheeks, roughly pushing a finger into her asshole. Finding it easily enter, he thrust in two fingers, massaging her hole with copious amounts of grease.

Rachael shivered from the abuse, in fright as well as from an intense arousal. Her mind sank into the role of slave, deeper and deeper. Never before had she been so badly used. Feeling his fingers grease her sphincter, confirming what was to come, she whimpered. 

When his cock pushed at her greased up bottom, she groaned. "Bugger your slave, master," a thin squeal of submission vibrated from her throat. Hardly recognising her own voice, she continued to whimper from being so debased,

A small part of her mind stood aloof, not experiencing the horrendous ordeal as a slave. She was a congressman's wife, being buggered by her husband's colleague. His cock eased into her asshole, pushing hard up her back passage. It relentlessly filled her body. The deeper it wormed up inside her, the more it enforced her belief that he owned her body. She was just a slave being used by a powerful and forceful master. 

***

Her master! Without hesitation Hollie assumed a slave position, hurting her knees as she fell to the floor, prostrate before him. She lifted her head off the floor, and moved into a kneeling position, with legs spread, and head bowed, in abeyance to her master. Without recourse to thought she was ready for him, ready and willing to obey her rightful master.

She was painfully aware of the thoughtless abject fealty. Her eyes became watery from knowing how low she had sunk, ready to satisfy a base need for humiliation through submission. It felt so right before him, so natural to be his willing slave. 

She was aware of her body reacting to his presence. Both nipples became engorged around the piercing rings. The sheen of wetness over her smoothly shaven, pierced pussy, revealed a demand for attention, yet she dare not move.

It never ceased to amaze him, how an otherwise perfectly respectable teacher, raised by conservative parents, would voluntarily humble herself so badly. She continued to surprise him with an ever growing need to be dominated and humiliated. 

Locked around her neck was the slave collar he had enslaved her with, some weeks ago. Like the shiny steel, unbreakable locked collar, her enslavement to him was just as permanent. He had warned the decision was hers, and was not to be made lightly. She had sworn her devotion to him, and in return he named her Cindy, while locking the collar around her neck. 

She knelt before him, with a stream of tears cascading down her cheeks, as she looked up at her master, knowing she was his. Staring into each others eyes confirmed she was his slave, and he was her master.

Roger reached to her, cupping her chin, not wanting her to look down in acquiescence. He wanted to prolong the moment of her complete submission, which was plainly registered on her face. She managed to smile in response to his grin of pleasure. 

He had his teacher wholly submissive to him, without reservation, with nothing held back. The very idea of owning this woman, as a willing devoted slave, filled him with pride and pleasure. 

"Why the tears, my wonderful slave girl?" he asked. 

"Your slave is so glad to have her master back home. Your slave has missed her master so much," she cried. 

"I missed you too. That's why I came back early," he smiled, as he wiped away the tears.

He frowned in consternation. Only just realising she had walked in unsupervised. "Where is Nathanial? Hasn't he been looking after you?" he asked.

"He left me with Angela, as my mistress. It was terrible, master," Hollie sobbed.

She told him as best she could, all that happened during the few days he had been away. She hesitated over revealing the two women had been collected by a pony-girl trainer. 

Every sordid detail had to be dragged out of her, even her part in arranging for them to be collected. 

"You didn't keep a note of their contact details?" Roger exclaimed.

"We will be in trouble over that! Nathanial won't like the idea of his wife and daughter being trained as pony-girls. Even less so that we don't know where they are. If we could find out where they were, we could get them back before he arrives home. Don't worry, your master will think of something," Roger re-assured her.

He wasn't so certain the mess could be sorted out so easily. Two attractive women, highly trained as obedient pony-girls, would fetch a high price in a specialised market. If Nathanial didn't reclaim them both, they might end up anywhere in the world. 

Roger imagined the influential man visiting a fellow master, perhaps on an official diplomatic mission overseas, only to find his wife and daughter happily pulling a cart. Dressed in tight leather, with their sex and breasts on show, even he would find it hard to hide his anger and humiliation. He would have to keep calm, for it would be unthinkable to reveal they were his wife and daughter.

The two women might be oblivious of their previous relationship with him, after such extensive training. If so they would be blithely showing off their bodies to the visitors, ready to perform for him, or whoever their master gave them to..

How terrible would it be for all three of them, if the women remembered him as a father and wife? Their new owner might offer the two pony-girls to another important guest for the night. Nathanial would have to watch his wife and daughter trot away with a colleague, or a rival foreign diplomat. 

Nathanial would be aware of their strict training, knowing it would be impossible for them to refuse the man anything, however repulsive his needs. What could he do, except keep silent, and accept they belonged to a stranger. 

Roger didn't think the pompous man would find it as amusing as he did. The two women deserved punishing, and Nathanial had let him and Hollie down. Sending them away for pony training was going too far. He would have to recover them, and somehow placate Nathanial.

In the meantime, there was something nagging at him, something that needed his attention. His slave urgently wanted him. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 15



Hollie forgot all about running away. She was now happy at her master's feet, with a familiar growing need. The heat was becoming more intense, while recounting the humiliating period, subject to Angela's vile treatment. 

She had been forced to submit, as a young girl's slave, which was undignified and infuriating. Becoming her willing plaything was degrading, especially so, when paraded naked before the girl's school friends. She had been a teacher at the school, so having to serve those adolescents as a humble menial was terrible. It was worse still when one of the students recognised her, and audaciously fucked her. 

Recounting the humiliation had Hollie bouncing with sexual energy. 

"Come on Cindy slave. Your master is more than ready to fuck his Cindy, sex doll," Roger laughed.

They didn't make it to the bedroom. They tore his clothes off while in the lounge doorway. 

Hollie was tightly trapped in a passionate embrace. Deeply kissing and teasing, and being teased by her master. He dominate her with his physical male presence, arousing her passions to an uncontrollable fury. 

So aroused and desperate for him, she manoeuvred her body under his, seeking the hardness she craved. She had become Cindy the hot slut, actively seeking that glorious feeling of being full of cock. She was ready for anything her master wanted, unable to resist his every need. 

In the hallway leading to the bedroom they cavorted on the floor. The sexual lust had them rutting like wild animals. Roger pounded away at her, with wild abandon. Hollie responded with synchronised thrusts of her hips, until she could no longer keep up, letting him piston away into her body. 

Once sated they crawled into bed, immediately falling into a deep sleep with bodies entwined.

***

Hollie was up early, preparing breakfast. She wore an apron to protect her naked body, for she wouldn't dream of dressing without permission. A feeling of doubt, over giving in so deeply to him evaporated. Her wonderful Master got up and gave her all his attention, bringing a sense of well being to her life. Hollie felt happy once back into the usual routine, serving her master his breakfast. She felt wonderful to be back where she belonged, at her masters feet. 

In the clothes he selected she waited by the door, ready for inspection.

The familiar routine confirmed her lowly position. She was no longer a respectable person, or a free woman, she was a cute little slave girl. She was his plaything, a mere toy to be enjoyed by him. It seemed such a long time ago that she held authority over him as his teacher, so much so, she was beginning to forget that life. 

She stood with legs apart, holding up the short skirt. The feel of his hands caressing her pussy, to make sure it had been shaved smoothly enough, sent shivers of joy through her body. It was his cunt, as much as her whole being was now his. 

He dressed her in a short flared skirt, with a boob tube top. She no longer thought to ask for underwear, and accepted the slutty look, taking it on as a reflection of what he had moulded her into. She was his slut, ready for whatever humiliation he cared to inflict upon her. 

In the mall Hollie trotted alongside him, proud of the looks she gained. The flat shoes and flouncy skirt took years off her age, so that she looked and felt like his young girlfriend. 

He was dressed in an expensive designer suit, adding to his eighteen years, making him look more like a young executive than a schoolboy. Next to him she felt like an irresponsible teen, rather than a responsible adult of twenty-six. The feeling was liberating, so that even in public it was natural to be subordinate to him.

With head down in a dream, she almost ran in to a man.

"Sorry, sir," Hollie murmured. 

"Hello, Mister Jones," Roger said, and shook the man's hand.

She listened to the voice, recognising it as the school principal, so dare not look up. She no longer worked for him, but it would be terrible to be recognised. 

"You are coming to the charity event this evening, Roger," Mister Jones stated, rather than asking.

"Yes of course, sir. I was thinking of entering Cindy into the auction," he said.

"Is she a student? I seem to recognise her, though can't place her," he said, with a thoughtful stare. 

"No, she's not from our school. Would it still be possible?" he asked.

Surely not! Hollie cringed at the thought of being on stage, before parents and past colleagues. What if someone recognised her? Being auctioned off, with a bunch of students would be humiliating. Her master knew how to heat her up, even with just the possibility of such a disgraceful exhibition.

"We could make an exception, as its for charity," he said.

"What's your name young lady?" he asked. He hadn't been listening when Roger mentioned her name.

"Cindy, sir," Hollie murmured.

"A well behaved little thing. I'm sure she will fetch a good price," he chuckled.

Hollie felt him eyeing her up. Thankfully her near naked body distracted him from recognising her. So that was her masters plan, to dress her up, and auction her off as a student slave! She pressed her thighs together, on feeling the heat between her legs. She knew he intended to embarrass her while shopping, but this was far more than expected.

She walked beside him, deep in thought, worrying over being recognised this evening. 

The first store they visited was the usual sex shop. Predictably her master picked out a sexy French maid outfit. It was the most expensive garment there, not the usual cheap party costume. In the changing room Hollie stripped off the skirt and top, leaving her naked. She struggled with the corset, not used to the stiff garment. 

"Here let me help," Roger offered.

"Thank you master," Hollie warmly smiled, from the prospect of him touching her.

She held the corset under her breasts, while he fastened the stays. She swayed with each tug of the ribbons, as he tightened them. Each of the twelve loops were pulled tight, leaving her breathless. She felt him starting over again from the top down, tightening the corset around her waist, and pushing her breasts up and out.

She felt as if it might squeeze the life out of her. She couldn't bend over to pull the stockings on, so Roger helped out again. She enjoyed the feel of his hands stroking the sheer black nylons up her legs. 

She began to breath heavily when he 'accidently' nudging her sex, while fastening the stocking tops to the belts. The red garter belts pulled tight over her thighs, from the corset.

"You had better walk around to get used to it," Roger told her. 

Having already paraded around the store once before, she didn't mind so much. This time she just wore the corset and stockings, with a thong. Her breasts were balanced on top of the bright red corset, and her bottom was on show. As expected. men young and old were ogling her. With Master there to protect her she felt perfectly safe.

Hollie felt every stare and heard every comment. All were flattering, which left her feeling proud for her master. When she bent over, to get used to the corset, she had to splay her legs to even bend a little. She could feel her pussy lips filling the little cup of silk that held them. 

"That's it Cindy, try to touch your toes," Roger told her. 

With an attentive audience behind her, she pushed lower. Her breasts bounced on top of the corset, then hung down when she reached the limit. The string between her cheeks pulled tighter, with each stretch toward the floor. Hearing the men sigh, and whisper to each other, her lips began to overflow. She shuffled her feet apart, in an effort to reach the floor with outstretched arms. 

She was almost bent double, with the corset holding her in place. She couldn't stretch any further, but neither could she stand. Fully aware of the picture she presented, bent over with legs parted, her sex opened up. They could all see how ready she was to be mounted. 

Roger stood behind her, pressing himself against her bare bottom. He put his arms under hers to lift her up. Once everyone had a good look at her, and voiced their appreciation, Roger led her back to the changing cubicle. She tried on the rest of the outfit.

The short black dress was held up with stiff white, petticoats. Matching white cap, apron, and cuffs, were included. There was no need for a bra, as the corset held her breasts up, and the dress pushed them into a deep cleavage.

The silk dress was too short and light not to wear panties. Especially on stage in school; it would be outrageous. She was relieved to see him select a sensible pair of black lace panties, to go over the tiny piece of lace she was wearing. At least she wouldn't be exposing her ass to everyone in school.

"Shoes! You need a pair of high heel shoes. They don't have anything suitable here, so one more stop, then we can go for a coffee," Roger smiled with satisfaction. "You'll look gorgeous this evening, the most attractive girl in the whole school," he smiled, and wrapped an arm around her.

She was somewhat mollified to know he was pleased with her, and smiled back at him for the compliment. Still apprehensive, she nevertheless knew it would have to be accepted, for her master had said so. She tried to calm herself, thinking he was likely to arrange it all without her being discovered. At least Angela wouldn't be there.

She changed back into her skimpy skirt and top. When she handed him back the thong a strong smell of sex marked them as hers.

A nearby shoe store was empty when they entered. The guy serving was only a little older than her, yet she felt small and young from the way she was dressed. 

"My little sister will be in the school charity auction this evening, and we need a pair of high heels for her. Don't ask me, I've no idea. Can I leave her with you? I need to look at some business software. You don't mind do you? Thanks, I'll be back in half an hour. Be a good girl for the man, you know father will spank you if you misbehave!" Roger warned.

Hollie looked fearful, as though reflecting upon a spanking. The prospect of being left with a stranger, after putting him in charge of her, as though she were a naughty school girl, was worrying. What other humiliating situations were planned today, she dare not think about.

Hollie couldn't take her eyes of the retreating figure of her master, craning her neck, watching him walk away, leaving her in the clutches of this nerdy guy. 

"Well then, what am I to show you? Any idea?" Clive asked, sounding bored.

"Err, black high heels, to go with a black dress," she nervously muttered.

"Sounds like a marvellous outfit," he sarcastically yawned, as he sidled away. 

"Here try this on," he casually told her, pushing a shoe in her face.

"Yes sir," Hollie responded, with as much enthusiasm as he showed.

When she fumbled with the clasp he impatiently sighed and perched on a stool in front of her. 

"Let's get this over with, then you can sit there quietly, until your brother returns," he spoke irritably. He chose an inexpensive pair, mistaking her for a cheap slut from the way she was dressed.

Lifting a foot he concentrated on the side buckle, not finding it as easy as he thought. "Keep still," he warned her, and looked up with a scowl. 

Realising why she was pulling at the shoe, he quickly looked down, with embarrassment reddening his cheeks. He had indelicately pulled her legs apart, which was very unprofessional of him. What had thrown him, was her lack of underwear. 

"You are such a naughty girl, it's no wonder your father has to spank you!" Clive scolded her.

Having this man, of her own age, speak to her in such a condescending tone, had her squirming with shame. He had clearly seen between her thighs, with one leg up displaying her pussy. He looked sternly in her face, assessing her. Under his stare she felt like a bad little girl, deserving a severe punishment. The fierce aunt of long ago, would have put her over her knees and spanked her, right here in the store.

She gulped at the thought of it, and broke the eye contact.

"How old are you?" he asked.

How could she possibly admit to being his age, while running around dressed like a bad-mannered teen. Worse still would be to reveal she was showing off her masters cunt, on his whim for a naughty game. She was no longer a teacher, or even a free woman, so what was she? Not only in his eyes was she a young slut, showing off her pussy, it was how she thought of herself. Her master had set her up as a young sister, and she hoped he would still believe it. 

"Eighteen, sir," she demurely answered.

"You're not a naughty girl then, you're a dirty little slut," he told her.

"What's your name?" he asked, still holding onto her foot, not letting her pull her legs together.

"Cindy, sir," she murmured.

"Figures! Is the dress as short as this?" he asked, not bothering to hide his interest in what was revealed up the short skirt.

"Sorry, sir?" Hollie asked.

"Cindy by name, Cindy by nature then. You are a stupid little slut, Cindy. What are you?" he smugly asked.

"I'm a stupid little slut, sir," Hollie murmured. She hated the name, especially the way he used it. 

She squirmed on the seat, feeling it slick under her bare bottom. Hell! The humiliation had her so juiced up, she was flowing. This irksome man was turning her into a sexed up little slut. What he was putting her through, combined with the dreadful experience in Angela's cage, where her sex had been sensitized, made her ready for him. Her pussy lips had always been large and succulent when aroused, and he was watching them unfold!

"I meant the black dress you are buying the shoes for," he slowly spoke, as though she were a brainless bimbo.

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir," she stammered. 

A musky waft of arousal assailed her senses, leaving her feeling like a dim slut. All she could think of was the vulnerable state she was in. She was a sexed up, stupid slut, ready for it. That's how he saw her, and how she felt. It was demeaning to be treated this way, and in turn the humiliation aroused her all the more.

It all went to prove how vulnerable she was without her master. She was just a hot little slut, desperate for his protection from predatory males. 

"The outfit is a French Maids uniform, sir," she helpfully added. 

"From the sex store over there?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, with a bubbly giggle.

"You had better try on some stockings for the full effect," Clive told her.

"Whatever you think, Sir," she complied.

Hollie felt herself drowning in the familiar subservient role. He was no longer an irksome clerk, he was a dominant male, taking control of her.

"Here, try these on," he told her. 

Watching the slut pull the stockings on, smoothing them up her legs, was fascinating. There wasn't the slightest coyness, when pulling them up under the skirt. She revealed her thighs and more, while adjusting the stocking tops. 

"Here let me help," he said, trying to sound casual.

He lifted the hem of the skirt out of the way, while she pulled the stocking tops into place, straightening the seams. He was displaying her bare bottom and shaved pussy in the store! The lighting was bright, and the display window wouldn't block the salacious view if anyone glanced in.

He tucked the hem into the top of the skirt. Standing back, he admired her legs and the high heeled shoes. "Walk around, see if they are comfortable," he told her.

Hollie had lost all control. She couldn't even pull the skirt down into place without his permission. She strolled around the store, letting him ogle her naked bottom half. She kept glancing out the window, checking to see if anyone was watching, as well as hoping her master was ready to rescue her.

"You have a peachy ass," he commented. "I'll have to inform your brother you've been very naughty by not wearing panties," he said. The sly grin on his face revealed his intentions, though it was easy to guess.

"Oh! Please sir, don't tell him. He'll tell daddy, and that means a thrashing," she complained. Hollie was adept at playing games, after being so long with Roger. It was obvious what he wanted, with the bulge in his trousers twitching in anticipation.

"Well, maybe I don't have to tell him," he smiled.

"Oh, sir, thank you. I'll do anything for you, just don't tell anyone," she pleaded.

"You must be punished for your naughty behaviour, so that puts me in a difficult position," he tried to say seriously. His face was a picture of pleasure. He couldn't take his eyes off her bare bottom.

"Perhaps, like, maybe, if you spanked me? Would that be alright, sir?" she suggested.

"That would solve the problem," he gleefully replied, no longer able to hide behind a stern pretence. He sat down, and patted his lap. 

Hollie played the game, by reluctantly dragging her feet to him. She carefully draped her body over his lap, facing away from the large picture window. Anyone looking in, would see her bare ass, with a pair of lips rudely protruding between her thighs. 

"You won't spank me hard sir. Will you? Please don't hurt me, sir," she pleaded with feeling.

"Keep quiet and it will soon be over," Clive admonished her. 

He pulled the skirt up around her hips. The stockings gripped her thighs, revealing enough to be exciting, even if she had worn panties. Her bare bottom seemed to quiver. He stroked it. A first soft strike, with his hand pausing to press the soft flesh, brought a whimper from her open mouth.

A harder slap made her gasp.

"Please sir, isn't that enough?" she asked, putting on her best little girly voice.

"No!" he sternly informed her. After time wasting adolescents had him running around the store, without a sale, this was a just revenge. Her cheeks were so soft and round, they cried out to be spanked. 

He struck her soft flesh again, stopping to watch her pussy leaking juices. Her engorged lips were glistening with wetness. The damn slut was enjoying it! He slapped her harder, satisfied with the sound of her anguish. 

He knew she was used to being spanked, though not the circumstances. Roger and Angela had spanked her. Even one of her students had spanked her, in her own classroom where she was supposed to wield authority. That had been the most humiliating episode of all.

"Please, sir, it hurts," she blurted out. 

A couple of quick slaps was all he could manage, without creaming in his pants. His cock twitched under her belly. He rubbed his cock through his trousers, against her bare midriff. If he didn't stop now he would cum.

She slid off his lap to squat at his feet. He looked around looking slightly bewildered, as though checking for customers. She rubbed her bottom with both hands, looking down at his crotch. The little slut could see his erection, knowing full well what she was doing to him.

"Thank you sir, for spanking me. I deserved to be punished, for being such a naughty girl," she hesitantly spoke.

"You had better finish what you started," he harshly said. She was staring at the obvious hard-on. He hoped she would, though didn't expect her to do more than tease him. He was so excited he would easily yank himself off, once she left.

Hollie reached forward to his zip. His cock sprang out to attention. It looked large in her small hands, though with her recent experience she knew it was unimpressive. She shuffled forward on her knees and engulfed it between her pouting lips. He was staring at her, wide eyed. She knew what he was thinking, her lips formed a perfect shape around his cock. Her master had told her often.

Clive wasn't thinking at all. He was so enthralled to have a young attractive woman on the end of his cock, his brain stopped functioning. Hollie concentrated with determination, trying to hold him back with a firm grip around the base of his cock. She had learnt over the last few weeks to be a perfect cock sucker.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 15



Neither of them noticed two girls walk in. They were what Hollie was pretending to be, though her actions proved she was a young slut, whereas they just looked it. They were both eighteen and inexperienced. They stared at the woman bobbing her head up and down in the guys lap. They sidled behind a rack of shoes, mesmerised by the audacity of what was happening. They gripped each other's arms, with grins plastered on their faces.

Hollie meant to catch his cum in her mouth, save making a mess. Instead he leaned back in the chair groaning. His sperm splashed in her face and hair. As usual she wiped and licked it from her hand. She sucked his deflating cock, cleaning him up, and shoved it back into his pants. 

He helped her off the floor, and she followed him to the cash desk. He handed over her old flats in a bag, without a word said. In a daze she moved to the door, still not seeing the two giggling girls. 

She had to pass close to the two girls by the door, only then seeing them, or at least their shoes, for she was looking down in shame. She had blown the guy for a pair of shoes and stockings, which she still wore.

The braver of the two stepped in Hollies' way. "You've got his cum in your hair," she giggled. Seeing how quiet and submissive Hollie was, her supercilious attitude hardened to outright scorn.

The girl pulled a strand of cum from Hollies' hair, and held it up to her friend to see. Fresh giggles to break out. She gripped Hollies' chin, and pushed the finger of cum to her lips. 

"Here slut, you missed a bit," she scornfully said. "Lick it up like a good little slut," she laughed.

Hollie licked the cum from her lips and the girls finger. At that moment she recognised the girls from high school; though thankfully not one of her students . So far she hadn't been recognised, so needed to get quickly away from them. The girl gripped her chin, holding her close.

"A blow job for a pair of shoes is a bad deal. This slut gives all adolescents a bad name," she told her friend. "What would you want in return Julie?" she asked her friend.

"I wouldn't, oh. Two pair?" Julie added, on seeing they were playing a game with the slut.

"Three pair at least," she said, with mock astonishment. 

"Please, let me go, I need to meet someone," Hollie begged.

"In a hurry to blow for panties? You need some. What's your name slut?" she asked.

"Cindy," Hollie grudgingly replied.

"Being paid for sex makes you a what, Cindy?" she asked, squeezing hard Hollies' chin.

"A whore. I'm a whore, OK?" Hollie blurted out.

"A nasty little Cindy whore, with cum in her hair. That's what you are," the girl gleefully said to her friend. "Well?" the girl pointedly looked at Hollie.

"I'm a nasty little Cindy whore, with cum in my hair," Hollie whimpered. Her knees threatened to give way, she was so overcome with emotion. Her eyes filled with tears, from having her wicked behaviour blatantly rubbed in.

Her prestige had fallen so far in the last few weeks, there was no option, but accept this well founded abuse. Their attitude toward her would have been so different a few weeks ago. They recognised her for what she had become, and she had to accept it.

The girl let go of her chin, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. "Hey! Aren't you going to thank me? For helping you with the cum in your hair," she asked. The girl grabbed the back of the skirt, by the waist band, stopping Hollie from running off.

"Thanks!" Hollie said, without turning her head.

"Not good enough, Cindy slut. Call your betters, ma'am," she demanded. Still holding the back of the skirt, she lightly lifted the hem, and tucked it into the waistband.

"Thank you for helping me with the cum in my hair, ma'am," Hollie whimpered.

"That's better. You need to learn some manners, you dirty little whore. You can run along now, to whoever you're going to blow next, Cindy whore," the girl laughed, with her friend joining in. They watched Hollie totter away, balancing on the high heels, wiggling her exposed ass.

Hollie knew where Roger would be waiting for her. It was a coffee shop the far side of the mall. In the high heels it would take her awhile to make it. They clip clopped on the hard marble floor, echoing loudly. Glancing in a store window she could see there were still white flecks of cum in her hair. 

She also noticed someone following, staring at her. A group of four young guys pointed and laughed at her, and began to follow along. Surely they hadn't seen the cum in her hair from over there.

"Nice ass, girl," one of them shouted, and they all boisterously laughed at her. 

Hollie wanted to quicken her pace, but was afraid of falling, which would attract even more attention. The morning was wearing on, so when she crossed the junction of the two halls there were far more people around. Looking down didn't help, as it just showed off her hair, with streaks of cum stuck in it. 

By zigzagging through the crowd she hoped to lose the followers. When a security guard stopped the now very loud guys, she was grateful. He hadn't noticed her, so she ploughed on, straight toward the coffee shop. 

He was sitting outside the shop, reading a newspaper. 

"Master!" Hollie sighed. She felt so much better from just standing before him. "Can we go, please!" Hollie implored him. Her tone of voice, stance, and facial expression radiated urgency. 

"Your master hasn't finished his coffee yet. Besides, I want a full report before we leave," Roger demanded. She continued to stand there with an imploring look. "Do you want me to spank your bottom, here in public?" he asked.

"Sorry, Master," Hollie responded. Surely he could see the cum in her hair, so must guess why she needed to escape this busy place.

"Sit down and I'll get you a coffee," he said.

A man around forty, wearing a grey suit, with greying hair, looked up to see a beautiful young woman. She was standing with her back to him. It wasn't her beauty that held his stare, it was her bare bottom. With the back of the skirt hanging above it, and the stocking tops below, the firm peachy delight was a siren, calling to him. 

She bent for a stool, to pull it from under the table. It became locked with another, so she had to use both hands to untangle it. Having been taught to always stand and bend with legs apart, she did just that.

On seeing her smooth pussy, the enticing siren became a warning bell. Prepared to look away from the young thing, he noticed something. Peering through the bifocals, he noticed her swollen lips were glistening. She wasn't a kid, she was a young woman. The young filly was in heat! 

As she struggled with a stool, her bottom waggled from side to side. His snake was following and twitching with every movement of the alluring display. His grey day was sparkling with sex juices. Not only her sex was glistening now. As a gentleman he stood up to help a lady in difficulty. 

Moving behind her he said. "May I help?" 

"Thank you, sir," Hollie murmured. 

Before she could move out of the way, he pressed against her. He guided her hand, to deftly pull the stool out. He put a hand on her shoulder to guide her onto it.

Hollie quietly gasped, and her eyes opened wide. She felt her bare bottom on the stool! When he pressed close she had felt his hardness, thinking the skirt was very thin. No wonder those men and those young guys were following her. She had been walking through the mall with her skirt up! Her face flushed brightly. 

"Thank the gentleman for helping you, Cindy!" Roger admonished her. 

She didn't feel like thanking him, for he had obviously seen her bare ass, and had taken advantage of her. 

"Thank you, sir," Hollie mumbled.

"Properly Cindy, you know better than that, my girl," Roger pushed her.

"Thank you, sir, for helping me," she breathlessly said, looking up at him with a wane smile.

"My pleasure, young lady," he chuckled, and walked away. His gait was not so slow as usual, and he whistled brightly. The grey man had a bit of colour in his cheeks for a change.

A waitress came up to them, and brushed against her. Still feeling shocked, Hollie fell off the stool in surprise. Her legs were spread either side of the stool, with one entangled in the other stool. Everyone was watching her, though no one offered to help. She couldn't hear their words, though it was easy to figure out the meaning of their murmurs. 

On her back with legs akimbo, she was showing off her wet pussy. 

"Honey, come on, don't cry," the waitress said, helping her up off the floor. She had mistaken a grimace of humiliation for the beginning of a sob. She was all hands and helpfulness, not wanting to be blamed for knocking the girl off the chair.

"You're a big girl now, so make sure you wear panties, OK?" she whispered, while patting her hair. "Ooo, what's this in your hair, honey? Bubble gum?" The waitress put her glasses on to look at her fingers. She sniffed the congealing gob of cum, and took a step back. She could now see the young girl was a nasty young woman. 

She grimaced and sneered at Hollie. She wiped the offended hand on her apron, and turned to Roger. Turning her back on Hollie was an unpleasant dismissive gesture. 

Hollie looked at Roger wanting him to hurry up, before she died of shame. Instead he ordered another cup of coffee, for himself. 

"Just stand there and keep out of trouble. You've shamed yourself here, and obviously in the shoe store," Roger told her.

"Yes, Master, sorry Master," Hollie whispered, not wanting other customers to overhear. 

"You can tell me all about it when we get home, little slave girl," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Hollie tried to bury a red face in her long hair, with head down, too ashamed to reveal her face in the crowded cafe.

He firmly gripped her hand, leaving the mall for home. Only a short while ago he was her student, now she trotted along behind him as his girl, or pathetic little sister. After all she had experienced it was easy to sink into the submissive role.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 16



(Please note, the previous chapter needs to be read to make sense of this one.) 

Conclusion

Roger was driving to a family friends home, in his father's car. Hollie sat quietly next to him. She had a lot to think about. Yesterday morning she had been preparing to escape Roger, and nearly succeeded. Unexpectedly she found him at home, where they had played at being master and slave. It had become more than a game over the weeks, until she was deeply immersed in the role.

It had affected her thinking so much, as soon as she saw him, an overwhelming compulsion had her prostrate at his feet. She just couldn't help submitting to him, as his pathetic slave girl. 

Hollie was deep in thought, over the latest shock he had landed her with.

She had been a professional teacher, building a career and a life, yet this young man had stolen everything away. Without asking he had submitted her resignation, terminated the lease on the apartment, and put her belongings in storage. More than that, he had moulded her self-image, making her dependent upon him. This young boy now owned her as a slave. She was his sex pet, to be toyed with, and humiliated in his sordid games.

Knowing how thoroughly ensnared in his games she had become, was frightening. His latest announcement put her mind in a whirl of anguish. He had decided to marry her! At first she thought it to be just a passing whim. He didn't ask her, it was an order; she was to marry him!

Nathanial, the man they were visiting, had married a slave, and that is where Roger got the idea. Rather than a romantic gesture, it showed how determined he was to keep her enslaved. A part of her, the weak person that needed to be humiliated, wanted it. At a wedding she could declare to the world she belonged to him. It was very worrying, realising she was being coerced into submitting so completely.

"Come in," Nathanial gruffly spoke. Settled into the leather chair behind his desk, he scowled at Roger and Hollie. She was squatting at Roger's feet, as a slave should. He dismissed her as being too lowly for consideration, and focused his attention on Roger, waiting for an explanation.

Roger had phoned Nathanial to give an outline of what happened. He wasn't looking forward to the encounter, but it had to be faced. His slave had been abused while staying in this man's home, and she had exacted a terrible vengeance upon his wife and daughter. On top of that, they didn't know where the two women had been sent. There was nothing he could do, except recount everything Hollie had told him. 

"Well!" Nathanial stolidly commented. He pursed his lips, and made a spire of his fingertips. As a diplomat he was used to hiding his emotions, and examining situations dispassionately, though this rocked him to the core.

"I know the two best pony-girl trainers, so it won't take long to establish where my wife and daughter are. After what you have recounted, it seems I can hardly admonish you for having an unruly slave. I seem to have overestimated my daughters ability as a mistress. I shall put that down to an indulgent fathers mistake," Nathanial sighed.

"It's almost a just retribution, almost. Angela will learn some discipline, which has obviously been lacking. I still find it shocking to find my wife and daughter have been sent for pony-girl training. You know how sever such training is? Not much harm could come to them in just a couple of days, though I'm sure they are suffering," he mused.

He was angry at his wife, which was who he meant by, 'a just retribution', rather than his daughter. Angela wasn't to blame for letting two of her young friends take her mother. Rachael was experienced enough to handle the situation, and avoid what happened. It would have been terribly humiliating for her to be fucked by two young boys, in front of her daughter. All the more so, that she knew their mothers so well. 

Nathanial guessed she would have enjoyed every minute of her humiliation, and could imagine how excited she had become. He had been too lax at home, while concentrating on his political work. It would do them both good to receive a few days hard discipline.

Roger was glad Nathanial was taking it so well. His father would have hit the roof, then him. As a diplomat the man was used to hiding his feelings. Did that mean he was seething inside, ready to wreak havoc with Hollie and him?

"There is a problem. These training establishments are expensive. To ask for them back now, would mean incurring a cancellation fee, which I don't have. I certainly don't have the full training cost for two pony-girls," he scowled at Roger.

Was this a ploy to get him to admit what had happened to his father? Roger hated that idea more than being here, before this powerful man. He knew the house well, having visited parties and official functions with his parents. It was decorated in the height of fashion, and the man lived well. Perhaps that was it, he lived too well.

"You can imagine the difficult position this puts me in. The sale of one fully trained pony-girl would more than pay for the training of both. How could I possibly let my daughter be sold in a specialist auction. It doesn't bare thinking about. My wife, as you now know is a slave, and could be legitimately sold in an auction. We have been married for a long time, so that too would be unbearable," he stated. 

Roger could see the facade cracking. Nathanial was talking about his family, trying to remain professional, though feelings were too overpowering to hide. Roger was sensible enough to keep quiet, letting him talk it through, wondering what he had in mind. 

"When fully trained a pony-girl is absolutely obedient to her master. My wife in the hands of a rival political faction, or a foreign diplomat, could be used against me. My ability to negotiate would be compromised," he said.

The voice wavered and he wrung his hands, revealing the simple logic covered deep emotions. Roger felt sorry for him, deepening his guilt, despite not being a part of the plot. 

He imagined the man being entertained by a rich foreigner, where his wife and daughter were trotted out, as part of the entertainment. As obedient pony-girls they would submit to their owners whims, ready to perform the direst perversions. Their owner might offer them to another guest, to use and abuse, just to push Nathanial into line with what he wanted.

"My father could help," Roger blurted out.

Nathanial looked at him, as though surprised at seeing him there. He straightened himself up, pulling himself together. 

Eventually Nathanial agreed. Roger's father was in Europe, in control of the London office of an American bank. He was also an old family friend. Roger promised to soften him up, by admitting it was his slave who got them into this mess. He left Roger in his study, to talk privately with his father.

***

Nathanial took Hollie to the kitchen, and introduced her to Rachael. "This is my temporary kitchen slave. Look after slave Cindy, slave Fanny," he ordered. 

"Yes, Master," Rachael respectfully responded, with a curtsy. 

She wore an apron and nothing else, besides a slave collar. It was bad enough being buggered by a colleague of her husband, now this young slut was a witness to her demeaning position. It had always been a discreet and carefully arranged game, with strict rules. Having others involved was breaking the most important of them, yet there was nothing she could do about it.

For the last six months she had resisted the sordid urge for humiliation. The dreadful need had built up, until she couldn't resist it. So she had arranged for two weeks of game play, with an approved stranger, while her husband was away. instead she had ended up here with someone she knew, which was a dreadful turn of events. It was certainly humiliating, far beyond anything envisioned.

Recognising the derisory look at the way she was dressed, Hollie retaliated, by pointing out the obvious. "At least I'm wearing clothes," Hollie simply stated.

Rachael looked down at herself, having forgotten her nakedness. "Point taken," she smiled, in resignation. She was wondering who this young girl was.

"You're not a permanent slave then," Hollie replied to the woman's look of curiosity. It was a stupid thing to say, that just emerged from her lips. 

"What do you mean?" Rachael queried.

"Your collar, it can be removed," Cindy said, with a shrug, as though it was of little importance.

Rachael looked her over again, finally examining the slave collar. "I see what you mean. It's locked, permanently?" Rachael asked, with a crook of an eyebrow.

"It could be unlocked, but there's no key. No chance of getting one either," Hollie sighed.

"How do you explain it away? I mean, when you go home, and at college," she asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

"I used to work but not anymore. I live with my master, as a permanent slave" Hollie explained. 

"Oh! You're fully committed then. I only play at it," Rachael said, with a nervous chuckle. "What did you do before becoming a slave?" she asked.

Hollie hesitated admitting anything of a previous life. "I was a teacher," Hollie weakly smiled back. It seemed such a long time ago. It felt as though she'd always been subject to master, and the idea of having a previous life seemed like just a slave's dream.

Rachael reappraised the young woman. She was dressed like a young airhead slut, in a ridiculously short skirt, and what she imagined was called a boob tube. She spoke well, not sounding like a stupid girl at all. 

Rachael couldn't resist questioning her. The young woman relaxed as they chatted, especially when they laughed over each other's exploits. She also found out why the young woman knew where everything was in the kitchen. 

"Both of them! His wife and daughter being trained as pony-girls. Oh, hell! I wish I'd been there when Nathanial found out!" she laughed. "My god, the man is a cold fish," she mused. "He buggers me without a thank you. Oh shit! I shouldn't have said that," Rachael exclaimed, with a troubled look.

"Don't worry. I won't say anything. It's been a relief for me to share things. Does it hurt?" Hollie couldn't help asking. "I've been prepared for it, but not done anything," she added, on seeing the hurt look on the woman's face.

"It's not that. It's just that, well, he knows who I am. I attend official functions with my husband, and Nathanial's a colleague. Every time we meet, I'll have to make small talk at parties, knowing how he's used me. It will be dreadfully uncomfortable," she suddenly burst out laughing.

"Not as uncomfortable as being buggered," she gasped, between guffaws.

"It's not something I would recommend, but it works, if you get excited from humiliation," Rachael reassured Hollie. 

From the secrets they shared it was obvious the young woman thrived on humiliation. It was the reason Cindy submitted to becoming a slave, and why Rachael played at it.

"So what's troubling you?" Rachael asked, while they made another coffee. 

"The whole slavery thing really. No. It's. He, my master, wants to marry me," Hollie revealed.

"Isn't that a good thing? Oh! He isn't giving you a choice? Do you think it will work? How old is he? Are you on the pill?" Rachael fired questions at her.

"I see. At eighteen he's a bit young, just an irresponsible youth. You can't trust him to make the right decisions, or look after you properly. From what you told me, he puts you in dangerous situations.," Rachael mused. 

"What if he decides to get you pregnant? I can see why you're worried. You're a mature, professional woman. You can't let a boy take over your life," she firmly stated. 

"I already have," Hollie regretfully replied.

On the drive home Hollie pondered over Rachael's advice, yet it seemed impossible to escape him. He was a young man, not a boy, even if he had been her student. He had certainly mastered her, by using her weaknesses, to overcome a better judgement.

Rachael had said it was never too late. She had to try and escape his influence. After all, she could always play a game with someone for a weekend, if the need overtook her. She furtively pressed the list of contacts Rachael had given her, and hidden in the skimpy top.

***

Angela looked at her mother and shuddered, knowing she too was dressed so lewdly. As pony-girls in training they didn't have the luxury of a mirror, when getting dressed. There was no choice of what to wear either as the stable boys took instructions from the master trainer. So there they were in the stable, ready for another session in the arena.

From head to toe she was constricted in black leather, so tight, if felt as though it had been painted on. It was difficult to move in the stiff new leather. They said she would learn to prance and trot, as an obedient pony-girl must, and they meant it.

The one piece suit covered her entire body, except for the essential, private parts. Her breasts were on show, and there was a split between her legs. As it took so long to get out of the dreadful getup, she had to perch over a drain to pee and defecate. The whole exhibition, before the stable boys, was infuriatingly demeaning. 

They weren't boys either, they were men with whips. If she didn't jump to a command, they would freely use the stinging whips to great effect. As both women had found out, from the moment they arrived. 

Pleading attempts to explain there had been a mistake weren't tolerated. Now they wore metal bits in their mouths, it was difficult to say anything at all. They were allowed to whiny, with different sounds for a given code. When needing to pee, she had to make a long braying noise. When thirsty a short horsey snort was made.

Angela tried to move her hand to wipe the saliva from her mouth. A stab of pain, from cramp, was a reminder that both arms were strapped securely behind her back. It was infuriating not being able to even clean her own mouth. She could feel the spit building up, ready to slobber over her chin. 

It wasn't a consolation that the pain was receding, as they had promised. They had told her she wouldn't need to use them again, until they were eventually permanently fixed in position. It was terrifying to think she would lose the use of her arms, because they were strapped up all the time.

Yesterday, their first day, she had shaken her head, spraying the guy with spittle. He had calmly bent her over, and secured her to a rail in the paddock. He whipped her ass, which she bitterly felt through the leather. As he said, she wouldn't try that again.

The suit was designed with stiff inserts, to pull her cheeks apart, showing off her asshole and lips. She knew this from following her mother out to the arena. The thin leather was stretched over the globes of her bottom, making it vulnerable to the trainers whip.

When she refused to co-operate the lash flashed between her legs, stinging her soft flesh, sensitising it to the slightest touch. After that shock she behaved herself, trying her hardest to perform as demanded. Her mother learnt from Angela's mistakes, readily submitting to the indignity of pony-girl training, to win praises for her achievements. 

Secured to a rail in the stable by a tether, she waited to be led out to the practice ground. A tall woman trotted past with knees strutting high, in a perfect prance, obviously well on the way through the training regime. She wore an identical outfit, only with embellishments. Angela couldn't bear to look at her. It was a dreadful thought, that they too could be in such a pitiful state, if they weren't out of here soon. 

Why in hell hadn't her father sent for them? She consoled herself with the thought that he wasn't due home until today. She pushed out of her mind that he might not know where they had been sent. It was too unbearable to contemplate being here for one more day. 

She looked at the guy fiddling with her mother, wondering what new torture they had dreamed up for them. The guy stood back to check on his handiwork. Angela cringed at the latest indignity. She wanted to shout at the bastard, but had learnt well enough to keep quiet. She snorted like a pony instead, careful not to spray spit over him. 

He stood in front of her, and smiled. The self assuredness of these fiends was so very infuriating. The calmness of their approach told her they were confident the two of them would submit. It was either obey, or be punished, so there was little choice.

He gripped a nipple, and pushed a metal loop over it. He tightened it, making the nipple swell, so it wouldn't fall off. He attached a small bell to the loop. He flicked it to ring it, and chuckled. Angela stamped a foot, the only emotional outburst allowed. When the other bell was attached, the first nipple was already grossly engorged, hurting just a little. 

"It will hurt more when taken off, so be prepared," he advised. 

Angela stamped a foot again. Their damned matter of fact attitude was maddening. Everything they did and said, was shown to be right, and effective. It was wearing her resistance down.

"It will be a long practice session today, so you'll need a good breakfast," the guy informed her. 

From experience she knew this was not a sign of kindness. He led her mother to a stall. Angela watched him tether her by the reigns, dangling from the bit in her mouth. Unable to see into the stall she worried what humiliation had been designed for them. They always applied the torture to her mother first, as a part of the plan, designed to intimidate her.

In the next stall she found a penis shaped dildo protruding from the wall. With her reins secured to a hook, she was unable to pull away. It was an inch from her mouth. The guy loosened the bit, letting it dangle around her neck. He held the whip up to her face, as a warning not to speak.

"You will have to take the phallus fully into your mouth, to feed. Once you press your lips to the ring, food will spray into your mouth," he explained.

She was amazed when he left her to it. Surely there was some trick to this. She kissed the end of it and pulled back, leaving her saliva on it. That was all she was prepared to do. She watched the end of it change colour, where she had touched it. Damn them! They would know how far she had drawn it into her mouth. 

In resignation she pushed forward, sucking as much of it into her mouth as possible. The hunger pains in her tummy growled at her, forcing her onto the damn thing. She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and then it was just some oat meal. 

She growled back at her tummy and the damn dildo. There was no escaping the damn thing, pointing directly at her parted lips. She took a deep breath and plunged forward, sucking it in. She choked when it touched the back of her throat. Examining it she could see the colour change was nearly complete.

"Fuck!" she whispered. She was going to have to swallow the damn thing. A few tries had her choking and retching. She couldn't hear her mother having any difficulty at all. She obviously had experience with the real thing. She pushed forward slowly, inch by inch. With the damn thing in the back of her throat, she tried to relax, with deep drafts of air. Eventually she gained the courage to swallow it. A brief kiss of her lips on to the metal ring it was stuck through was all she could manage. 

It was then she realised what he had meant. A spray of liquid was injected down her throat. The demands of her stomach couldn't be resisted. Again and again she pushed the dildo down her throat to receive a feed. Tears ran down her cheeks, from the knowledge she was teaching herself to deep throat a cock. 

Every time it spurted thick mushy nutrient down her throat, she imagined a cock spurting its cum into her belly. Pulling back for air, she saw the so called food dribble out its eye, and it even looked like sperm. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 16



"Oh please daddy, come and get me. Take me away from this hell!" she whispered.

***

"There you are, all ready for the auction. Don't worry, no-one will recognise you, Cindy" Roger reassured her. He mistook the reticence for a fear of discovery. 

Instead Hollie was worried about another dangerous situation he was pushing her into. Rachael was right, he was too immature to look after her properly. He was just playing with her, like a new toy. They had been exciting new adventures, though now they were getting out of hand. What would happen when he grew tired of her. Would he dispose of her, like a discarded toy, in a real slave auction?

The thought of a life of servitude, being sold from one stranger to the next, was horrendous. What was so bad, was how aroused the idea made her. With Roger's guidance she had become a complete slut.

***

Students were lining up beside the stage and Hollie, a former teacher, joined them. The mask protected her identity, but it didn't stop them commenting on her appearance.

In the tight corset it wasn't possible to bend over much, which was just as well, for under the short dress a thong merely pursed her lips. The corset pushed her breasts into a tight cleavage, making the most of them. Above the low cut dress her breasts were only just hidden with a fine gauze of material. Like a mist, fluttering tantalisingly over them, threatening to reveal them.

The black dress was tight around a pinched waist, and flowed out over multilayered, white taffeta petticoats. With every step they bounced up around her thighs, to reveal the stocking tops, with a flash of bare thigh and suspender straps. 

If it wasn't for the prospect of being an item for auctioned, in school, she would have felt glamorous. Instead she was dreading the scene of standing on stage with the students, being ogled by parents and former colleagues. 

Being a maid for the evening was hardly a demanding role, after the games played out recently for her master. It was the prospect of being back in school, as his girlfriend that was so dreadful. If someone recognised her, the awful truth would be revealed.

They filed out onto the stage. Hollie had become used to walking in high heels, though the girl in front of her wobbled precariously. She too was dressed as a French maid, though the outfit was a cheap party affair. The girl had thought it would be daring, making her the star of the show. She showed her disappointment by calling Hollie a slut. 

The girls dress was short, and so she wore a sensible pair of panties, and probably something under them too. If she and her friends had known how little Hollie wore, the girls would have called her worse names than a slut. Hollie didn't need reminding what she had become.

The guys filed on from the opposite side of the stage. They concentrated on the audience, looking for their friends approval. News travelled along the line by way of nudges. They were all staring at her. The audience of parents, teachers, friends and students had certainly noticed her. The students were whistling and there were some deeper sounding tones of approval from the men. 

Hollie could imagine the women whispering to each other, with words full of spite and venom.

"Thank you everyone," the principal loudly spoke, through the squealing microphone, only just heard above the catcalls. 

"Welcome to the part of the show you have all been waiting for. The slave auction," he managed to say, before the audience erupted in a cacophony of noise. 

He was regretting allowing them to bring wine to this years' show. The idea had been to soften them up, to raise more money for the school fund. He also regretted not vetting the costumes. Some of them were a little too lewd for a school event. So far no one had complained, but they would tomorrow at the committee meeting. Still, there was always someone to blame, which was why he suffered a bickering committee to organise the event.

He hardly dare look at the next girl. It was no wonder she wore a mask. Her identity was the only thing not revealed about her. He loved long legs, but his wife knew him too well, and she was sitting at one of the front tables, watching him closely. The slightest leer would mean trouble. 

One thing was for certain, her presence had raised the bids for the others. He had been tempted to push her down the line, leaving her until last.

Hollie scanned the audience, looking for her master. She hoped he would be bidding for her, though if previous games were anything to go by, she was up for grabs by anyone. The agony of being grabbed and mauled, was what she expected. She just hoped it wasn't a bunch of raucous teenagers that bought her.

In her imagination it became one of the real slave auctions, Rachael had warned her about. The woman had attended one with a friend, only as an observer, just for the thrill of it. Rich men bought a plaything, and that is what she had become. Was this just a dry run for the day when Roger would offer her up to strangers? It wasn't dry for her, as her panties became damp. 

The figures began to increase rapidly. Was it her imagination, or was this taking far longer than for the others? Being in the spot light felt like an age of humiliation. At least she wasn't asked to twirl around, for her previous boss, the principal, was wise enough not to chance it in such a short dress.

She hadn't been asked to come forward to the edge of the stage either. Could those men looking up at her, see the tiny thong? If they could, would it reveal how damp she was? She wasn't just an inanimate object for sale, she was a living sex doll. A slut, ready to perform at the slightest provocation. The nasty truth was that Roger had teased it out of her, not made her like this.

Hollie stood there mesmerised by the audience reaction. The applause was far higher than for anyone else. The principal took her hand, leading her to the steps. A man took a hold to guide her down, and through the closely packed tables. The detritus of food, and half empty wine bottles, littered every table. Some of the men were inhibited by their wives, but not all.

"I'll take her off your hands, if you can't manage!" a wine loosened tongue suggested. 

Hollie dare not look at the people she passed, nor the guy who won her. She had been bought to serve them for the evening, though it felt so much worse than that. The humiliation of being treated like a kid in school, where she had taught, had her fired up. The way she was dressed proclaimed she was a young slut, with the crowds looks and comments confirming it.

Wives were nudging their husbands, telling them not to stare as she passed. The auction had ignited a fire in her belly, pushing her deeply into the slave role. Her new master sat down and looked at her. She glanced at him, immediately recognising the horrid man. It was the athletics coach! 

He had tried it on with her from the moment she joined the faculty, without a shred of subtlety. He had laughed at her rebuttal, replying he would have her sooner or later. 

He gestured to her with a crook of his finger. She bent to hear what he was saying over the hubbub of noise. 

"Well Hollie, your mine now," Bill smirked.

"I, I'm Cindy," Hollie stammered. 

"Do you want me to reveal who you really are?" he leered.

"No! Please don't," she whispered back. 

Why she was dressed up like a stupid slut, he had no idea, and gave it little thought. He suspected who she was, and this confirmed it. Bill took in the sound of desperation in her voice, knowing he had her at his mercy. The stuck up bitch was his now.

Seeing the evil look in his eyes, was enough to make her shudder in fear. The beer had loosened him up, and his bawdy friends. The dancing had started, with the lights turned low. In this dark corner of the auditorium she was somewhat safe from discovery, but that made it all the more dangerous.

"You don't want to get into trouble, do you? Think of your job," she hastily reminded him.

"This is my last duty. I'm off to a more lucrative position with a college, so don't worry about me, worry about your own career," he laughed.

She felt like telling him that was over. She didn't think it would be possible to teach ever again. She was more than just a fun slave, she was in it for life.

"OK Guys. This is Cindy our slave for the evening. Best take advantage while you can. Isn't that right Cindy?" he sternly said, meanly looking at her, daring her to complain.

"Yes, Master," Hollie meekly acknowledged.

"If she displeases you, spank her ass, like a naughty girl. You'd like that wouldn't you Cindy," he added.

"Yes, Master," she stammered. Surely they wouldn't. They couldn't be so outrageous here!

His rough looking friends were celebrating his last day at the high school, and didn't look as though they cared about the school's reputation, or his.

"Are you sure she's over eighteen, Bill," one of the more sober of them asked.

"She is. She's a young slut, and loves it. Don't you Cindy," he stated, looking her in the eye. 

"Yes, master," Hollie murmured, from behind the mask. It covered her face above the mouth, so she could at least complain if they went too far. What was too far though, after all that she had experienced recently.

"Not loud enough, Cindy. They can't hear you over the music. Tell them what you are," he warned her, with a hand up the dress.

"I'm a slut, sirs," Hollie clearly stated. She felt the rough hand rise up a stocking, and pull on a suspender belt. 

"Show them the fancy underwear, Cindy," he growled. The feel of his calloused hand cupping her cheeks, poured cold water down her spine. The previous arousal was drowned out by a wretched feeling. This man was a disgusting braggart, and the sooner she escaped him the better.

With shaking hands she lifted the front of the dress, to show them the stocking tops.

"Higher," he told her. He positioned his hand to press a big fat finger between her bare cheeks, pushing upon her virgin hole through the thong. He was pleased to find her rise up on the heels, trying to escape the indignity of such an intimate touch.

Holding the dress around her waist, they could see the suspender straps attached to the bottom of the corset. The little triangle of a thong tightly cupped her pussy lips. They had been swollen and wet, now they clamped shut, in response to the disgraceful attention. She was trying to clamp her cheeks tight, only he was too strong to resist the finger pushing between them.

In their eyes she had lost the lowly status of slut, to become nothing more than a sexual object. One of them called her a sexy Cindy doll, and worse phrases were used to describe her, and what they wanted to do to her. Was this all she deserved? After all she was just a slave, no longer entitled to the respect a free woman was entitled to.

Bill gained her attention by pressing hard upon her asshole, through the string of the thong. He repeated the instruction, emphasising every word with a finger. 

"Yes, master, sorry master," she gasped. "Thank you sirs. Cindy doll is all that you said," she croaked. Feeling he wanted more, Hollie tried to remember the obscene descriptions they used.

"I'm a sexy Cindy slut doll, ready for anything. I love to ride a hard cock, and suck cock. Your Cindy doll loves the taste of cum, and can't wait to suck you all dry," Hollie stated, hoping to satisfy the bastards warped mind.

"Good girl, Cindy," Bill laughed. "Now we have it clear you're nothing but a nasty little slut, you can serve us," he leered at her.

Hollie wanted to pull off a heel and drive the spike through an eye into his brain. The big strong hand holding onto her cheeks, was warning enough not to misbehave. He and his friends looked as though they could handle themselves in a bar room. Her small frail frame would stand little chance, against any one of them.

Midnight was two hours away, though it would seem forever, being subjected to this horrible torment. 

Each time she stood close to one of them, fumbling to open a bottle, they pushed a hand up the dress to roughly maul her. She was glad the thong was so tight they couldn't break in. They fingered her sex through the thong, and rubbed her bare bottom, bruising the tender flesh. When a bottle spurted over the table, she received a hard slap, stinging her ass.

"Was that you spurting your load, Harry?" Bill suggested, with a leer. They laughed and joshed him, not sparing her either from lewd comments. 

"No need to waste it girl, lick it up," Bill told her. Bent over the table he had a good look at her ass. Gazing around the room she could see couples determinedly ignoring them. The principal had studiously ignored the rowdy group. The tables nearby had been vacated, leaving her at their mercy.

He pulled her down onto his lap by the hips. With both hands squeezing her already sore breasts, he whispered into an ear. 

"Go to the restroom and take off those damn panties," he demanded.

"We'll take her with us fishing. The weekend cabin doesn't have enough bunks, so she'll have to share. I'm first though," he leered. 

The looks of animal lust the others gave her, were enough to confirm they meant it. He pushed her up off his lap, slapped her ass, and told her to hurry. Before she could escape, he grabbed her hand. 

"She's in a hurry, guys. Needs a good fucking this one, isn't that right, Cindy?" he said, with a look of defiance.

"Yes, Master," she nodded. He didn't let go of her hand, which felt tiny and vulnerable in his big paw. To get away from him she would say anything, and he wanted more.

"Your Cindy slut doll, can't wait, to get your big fat cocks in her tight pussy," she moaned, trying to sound desperate for it. Still he held on, wanting to humiliate her all the more. 

"Unless master would rather use one of Cindy's other holes. My asshole is so very tight, master. You could break it in for your friends, master," Hollie wanly smiled at him, and looked around at the gaping mouths. She pulled her mouth into a grimacing, trying for a smile. 

"Cindy doll can't wait to taste your lovely cum, sirs," she added.

As she hurried away from the table, she heard them laughing at her. 

"I just knew the stuck up bitch was a low down slut. I bet she sucks like a whore on a bonus," he derided her. Their nasty laughter rang in her head, as she tottered away on high heels to the restroom.

The thought of being their sex doll for the weekend terrified her. Surely Roger would rescue her before they had a chance to spirit her away. They were so big and strong, she wondered if he would be able to save her. How could she run away without his help. She would have to pass their table to leave the hall. It was hopeless in the heels and corset to attempt an escape. 

In the corridor a young guy stood in her way. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to take notice. As though caught in a nightmare, she looked at him, still not seeing who it was.

"Hollie! I knew it was you. What were you doing with those lowlifes? They're mean beasts, they don't deserve you," Mark intensely growled at her.

"Leave me alone. I have to go," she whimpered.

He took her hand, leading her past the rest rooms, toward a fire exit. Outside she tried to struggle, only he was holding on, his strength intensified with anger. 

"You don't want to go back to those beasts do you?" he demanded to know.

"No! I have no choice, don't get involved, you don't know what you're doing!" she cried.

"What did Angela do to you? What does she have on you, to make you behave like this?" he implored her for an answer.

"Not her, its someone else," she sobbed.

"I'll help you. Whatever it is, I'll fix it," he reassured her. 

The intensity of his voice swayed her. She believed he meant it, but how could she escape what she had become. He wouldn't understand why she had become so depraved. She didn't understand it herself.

The fire door swung open. "Hey! She's mine, leave her alone," someone shouted.

Hollie felt relieved. At last her master had arrived to rescue her.

***

Nathanial listened to Roger's father. It was reassuring to hear the money would be wired to his account on Monday, as soon as the bank opened. Thankfully the friend knew him well enough, not to attempt an emotional commiseration. He stuck to the facts, not mention Nathanial's wife and daughter. 

Nathanial sat at his desk, somewhat relieved. He idly stroked slave Fanny's bottom, while she was sprawled over his desk, ready for his use of her. The two of them had been at the pony farm two days. Another two days over the weekend, followed by a few days to reach his account, meant they would be there a week at most. 

Such a large amount would have to go through security checks, to ensure it was clean money, not laundered. If it took a few days more, they would still be home by the end of next week. The friend had informed him the amount was from a dead account, whatever that was, so he wouldn't have to pay it back for some time to come.

When they arrived home, he would have to keep a tight rein on them. A belly spasm revealed a silent chuckle. In the mean time, he would have to console himself with this slave.

Rachael prepared herself by relaxing her sphincter. She was getting used to him, and beginning to enjoy being dispassionately used. He treated her like a blow up doll, not caring about what she wanted. The humiliation of it kept her burning with desire. 

She had caught herself thinking of becoming a permanent slave, like that poor girl Cindy. The idea had been quashed, as an impossibility. She had a respectable life to go back to, full of responsibility. Meeting and greeting people could be tedious, but it was important to her husband's political career. 

It occurred to her this might be one of the reasons she took such a dangerous risk, playing these sordid games. Was she subconsciously trying to escape the continuous round of boring political parties and events. 

Previously she had played the game for a weekend at most, with approved strangers. She knew this man professionally, and was here until he decided otherwise. His treatment of her, wearing down her resistance, readjusting her self-image, was dangerous. Look at what happened to Cindy.

The thought of becoming this man's permanent slave, no longer seemed so terrible. She was already adjusting to the demeaning position of sex object. Damn! She had almost two more weeks to go. Her head would be a mess by then. He had warned her not to leave, without pointing out the consequences. She knew her life would be ruined if the sordid truth became public knowledge. She was trapped here! That too went toward bending her attitude toward a deep submission. 

She felt his hand massage her bottom, with a finger probing her asshole. If this had been the usual arrangement, she would have demanded attention to her needs, or walked out. Instead she submitted to him, preparing to be used, deteriorating into becoming nothing more than a sex object.

***

At first Hollie thought it was her master, at last rescuing her. The coarse brutish sound of Bill's voice soon penetrated her clouded thoughts. Where was Roger? Why hadn't he taken care of her. 

Mark swung her bodily behind him, ready to face the bully. Mark was of the same height and build as Hollie. He wouldn't be able to stand up to this athletic man. Bill's muscles rippled under the shirt, cut to show off powerful biceps.

Bill stumbled on the way toward them, revealing alcohol had affected his balance. Even so he was more than a match for Mark. 

"Leave me, Mark. I'm not worth it. I'm just a slut," she tried to reason with him.

As the ham hock fist swung, she tugged Mark's belt. The fist sailed past his head, with the lack of a connection swinging Bill off balance. The meaty paw would have smashed his face, if it had struck. At the same time Mark kicked out. His shoe spun off into the darkness, and his foot hit Bill's knee.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 16



Bill crumpled to the ground, cursing. Hollie pulled Mark back, as Bill made a grab for him. Clawing at the air, he fell forward onto his face. On his elbows he shouted at the pair, as they ran off. Mark hobbled a few steps, with Hollie supporting him. She kicked off her heels enabling her to move faster.

"This way," he panted. The adrenaline was running high, helping to hide the pain in his foot. He searched his pockets for the keys; trousers, jacket, trousers again, frantically delving in, and furiously patting his clothes. He found them in the trouser pocket first searched.

"You drive," he said, throwing her the keys.

"Where are we going?" Hollie asked. The excitement had broken her tormented demeanour. She was still a slave, but now she was on the run. A patrol car, with flashing lights, pulled into the parking lot as they left. At last the principal had acted. It had almost been too late, but this young man had saved her.

"Turn left," he breathed heavily, still pumped up from the fight.

At last they arrived at his home. "My parents are away, so you'll be alright," he said, urging her in.

There was nowhere else to go, so she followed him. The lights of his bedroom seemed bright after the dim auditorium, and the darkness outside. She stood in the doorway, feeling nervous, and out of place. It was an ordinary boys room, with a kids past still clinging to the walls, and corners of the room. A model airplane, a telescope, and other boyish things littered his private space.

"What are you going to do with me now?" she timidly asked. It was a strange question, coming from his teacher. It was natural enough for a runaway slave girl.

He patted the bed beside him. A few weeks ago it would have been an outrageous gesture. Now she was a humble slave, used to obeying others bidding, unused to refusing anyone. The small insignificant movement of sitting next to him, on his bed, was full of meaning for her.

He put an arm around her, and she deeply sighed. She had been his teacher, but couldn't expect the slightest respect she once held in the classroom. He had seen her naked, wearing chains, and played with her sex in a dreadful way. He had pulled on the chains, rubbing her nipples, as they tugged on her pussy lips. 

Angela's party had degenerated into an orgy, where this eighteen year old student had taken her. Bent over, with her face in Angela's pussy, he had grabbed her hips and fucked her. How could he resist her wriggling bare ass, and bare pussy? He had known she was his teacher, and gloried in fucking her.

"Tell me all about it. What happened? How did you get into this mess?" he calmly asked. 

The sincerity and purity of his attitude reached inside to tear at her guts. She sobbed inconsolably in his arms. He cuddled her and spoke soothingly in her ear. The same ear she had received nasty instructions from that horrid man.

She wanted to turn her head, for it seemed wrong to hear such sweet consoling words, after hearing such filth from Bill. Not realising she had, her face turned toward him, and they kissed. A light innocent kiss. A tender touch, yet electrifying all the same.

"Sorry," he whispered. 

"It's all right," she murmured. She almost added it was nothing after what they had done before, and all that she had submitted to in recent weeks.

He seemed to read her mind. "That was the first time, for me. At Angela's party," he explained.

She shuddered at the idea of it. "I'm no good. No good for you. I'm just a nasty slut," she said; all out of tears, unable to justify herself, not deserving of his sympathy or help.

"You can have me again if you like. Just use me and send me on my way," she determinedly spoke. 

"No! Tell me what happened to you. You're a lovely person, you weren't like this in class," he earnestly spoke.

Hollie remembered the dire game Roger made her play in class, and cringed. He was right, she had been innocent of these feelings only weeks ago. How easily she had corrupted herself. Humiliation had fuelled her lust, pushing her deeper into accepting the dark side of her personality.

Despite her reticence, she began trying to explain, for his sake. Soon she was spilling her secrets to him, glossing over most of it, unable to relate every sordid detail of her downfall. She took complete responsibility for what happened, not mentioning Roger by name.

"He didn't look after you. You said a master should, but he didn't," Mark commented when she dried up.

She shrugged, unable to say more. How could she tell him it was a classmate, someone his own age and knew, who mastered her. Roger was so young, of course he couldn't be expected to look after her.

"Please, Mark. Just let me go. I need to escape all this, and try to lead a normal life," she begged. 

The plea drove home how vulnerable she was. She had too quickly drifted into the role of slave, to this nice young man. Everyone she came into contact with had become her master or mistress, because the feeling of servitude had taken over so completely.

"Where will you go?" he asked. 

"I don't know! All I know is that I must get away from here, from all that has happened. Thank you, Mark, for helping me. I shall never forget what you have done for me," she sincerely spoke, with heartfelt gratitude. 

"California," he said.

"What?" Hollie asked.

"My parents have an apartment in California. You could hide out there," he said with growing enthusiasm. "It's a bit run down, but it would do. They wanted me to go there, to air the place and make sure it's alright. I could drive you. I'll leave a note, we could go now!" he enthused.

"I've no money, nothing to wear," she sheepishly told him.

"I haven't used any of my summer allowance. Too busy with computer games. I think that's why they made the offer, to get me out of this room. You could get a job, once settled in. It'll be a new start, you'll be free, and will soon recover," he encouraged.

"Come on, you can have some of my sisters clothes. She's got loads of makeup and everything you'll need," he said, pulling her out of his room. 

"I'll leave you to it. Let me know when you're ready. I'll pack some stuff," he laughed, liking the idea of freeing her, and of having something special to do.

"Wait. You'll have to help me out of this corset," she awkwardly said.

Hollie compliantly stood in the middle of his room, letting the young guy undress her. He took his time, careful not to touch her inappropriately. It was difficult not to stare at her body, as he unwrapped it. He had seen her naked before, but here in his bedroom, it was far and away more exciting. 

Eventually she stood before him, looking shy and so very sexy. The black silk corset gripped her waist, and pushed a pair of soft breasts into an enticing cleavage. She turned around for him to unfasten the laces. Her bare bottom was so close to him, he had to take a step backward, away from the temptation. 

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. With hands trembling, he untied the bow, and began unwinding the lace ribbon from the eyes, pulling it through, freeing her body.

He held the corset in his hands, staring in the mirror at the vision of loveliness. His teacher was standing in his bedroom, wearing stockings, and a thong. It was a fantasy come true. His breathing was almost a pant, as though he had sprinted a mile.

The bulge in his suit trousers grazed her bottom. "Sorry," he said, with a whispery hoarse voice.

"It's all right, Mark," she reassured him. Hollie turned to him, not bothering to cover her near naked body. It was partly from the habit of being naked, though why should she cover herself, before the hero who rescued her. He had seen her naked in far more salubrious circumstances. 

She had been thinking about what to do while he undressed her. She was completely dependent upon him, and she believed he would help her to freedom. She owed him so much already, and needed him more. It didn't matter if it was the slut influencing her thinking. This time she wanted to give way to the slut, ready to give herself to him.

"Mark," she whispered. "I want to," she earnestly said. Hollie got down on her knees. 

Mark quickly lifted her up with both hands under her arms. "No! You don't have to any more. You're free, don't you understand?" he exclaimed. He wanted her, but resisted the urge. 

"I want you to make love to me, Mark. I want to reward you, and this is the only way I can repay you. Please! Make me yours. I want you to free me by taking me. I can't explain it, just believe me. It's what I need. Please!" she implored, with deep feeling, reaching out to him. 

He wrapped his arms around her naked body to guided his teacher to his bed. They kicked off the books and guy stuff, making a nest in the covers. 

"Hold me tight, kiss me," she passionately demanded. 

Their lips touched, and she opened her mouth to him, letting him take her, entwining her tongue with his. They lay together smooching, caressing, murmuring to each other. She enjoyed so much his innocent boyish declarations of adoration, she wanted it to last forever.

She tried to pull the thong off but couldn't reach, with his arms gripping her tight. The stockings were around her ankles, now free of the corset straps. She too felt free, to make the decision to give herself to him, rather than just be available.

"Mark, please! Unwrap your present. It's my gift to you. Freely given, please except it," she pleaded.

At first he didn't understand what she meant. With a guiding hand, he moved down the bed, between her legs, and pulled the wrapping from his gift. She watched him slowly lower his lips to hers. He planted a delicate kiss on her pussy. She couldn't help opening her legs, just as her pussy was opening up to him. 

He was unsure what to do with it. It was one thing laughing with friends about sucking a pussy, but this was real. Besides, this was his teachers shaved pussy, not a dirty photo in a magazine. The sight of it so close, so available, prevented him spurting his load.

Hollie saw the look of wonder on his face, and realised this was all new to him. The idea of guiding his innocence gave her a wonderful feeling of liberation. She was the master here. She had learnt a great deal over the last few weeks, and would take great pleasure in teaching him all she knew. 

She took his head in both hands to guide him up to her breasts. "Kiss them gently," she whispered. "Suck my nipples, that's it, that's so nice, you're wonderful," she cooed. 

The arousal was devoid of humiliation, yet she was becoming passionate, beginning to need him in a good way. She pulled him further up, and ardently kissed him. Feeling his hard cock slide up her thigh had her breathing heavily. 

"Make love to me, Mark," she said, with carefree abandon.

He lifted his hips, worrying about position himself properly. His cock slid between her lips, too far up. He felt her hand wrap around him, guiding it. 

"Push, that's it! Slowly. All the way in. Oh! Mark! Yes! Keep going! Faster, deeper, yes! Fuck me, fuck me hard. Oh god, yes! Do it to me, fuck me hard. Fill me up, give me your spunk," Hollie yelled at him. 

A guttural whimpering noise burbled from her throat. "Keep still! Don't move," she unnecessarily told him. Her body and mind revolved around his cock. Spasms rocked her being, from her belly to her finger tips, by way of her nipples. They felt hot, glowing with pleasure.

"Oh Mark!" she croaked from a dry throat.

He couldn't say a thing. He lay with his full weight upon her naked body, crushing her into the bed. He wanted to lift himself up, to let her breath, but his arms were weak, as his whole body was. It felt as though she had drained him. The feeling of her vagina gripping his cock was magnificent.

He had his teacher in his bed, fucking her! He had made her orgasm. He had spurted his cum into her, and she had loved it. The euphoria was tinged with guilt, with the idea that he had once again, taken advantage of her. This time she had wanted him he justified, and pushed the guilt aside.

He slid to her side, and she cradled his head in her breasts. He nuzzled them, and sucked on the sensitive nipples. The fire was still alight, a dyeing flame, yet enjoyable.

"We better get dressed," she encouraged, with a kiss to his forehead, and a squeeze with her arms.

He reluctantly let go of her breasts, to kiss her deeply. He didn't know what to say, though his warm smile was all she needed.

"Full marks young man. You've passed sex education part one. You'll have to study hard for part two," she teased. 

"I'll need lots of practical exercises to pass," he laughed.

"One thing though," she said, in a stern tone of voice. "Next time you bring a teacher home, strip her naked, and screw her. Politely thank her, young man," she playfully admonished him.

"Thank you Miss. Thank you for helping me with my homework," he laughed, and slapped her ass.

"No time for part two, we need to get going," she firmly stated.

"I'm looking forward to the ride, are you?" he grinned.

"Are you telling me I've got to pay you in kind for a ride to California?" she asked.

"Yes!" he teased back. "A ride for a ride," he laughed.

"For the sake of your education, I guess I must," she imperiously answered, and burst out laughing.

Hollie instinctively knew she could remain in control this time.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 17



Chapter 17

California Dreaming

Nathanial was fuming. His wife and daughter were at last expected home this evening from the pony training centre. They would be furious with him for not collecting them sooner. 

He had been away on business for a week before finding out they had been taken away. It was a secret location so it was impossible to just turn up and hand over the cash. The trainer had demanded full payment, despite them only completing part of the training and didn't have the money. He had to borrow it from a friend in London, which added another delay. 

The money transfer had been mislaid in New York for several days. By the time it reached him, and he arranged to make the payment in cash, three weeks had passed. Of course the banks involved had apologised and blamed each other, but that didn't help one bit. 

Adding to his bad temper was a demand to attend a meeting in Washington. He had to brief a diplomat before the man left on his appointment in the middle east. It was important, he knew that, but such bad timing was the last straw. 

It would be better to face the trouble now, rather than have it build while he was away. His wife could be awkward, and his daughter more so. The only consolation was that young Roger had caused the problem, and would be here to face the consequences.

His wayward daughter had arranged for Roger's slave to be sent away for pony-girl training. The slave, Hollie, had contrived to have his daughter and wife sent away instead. By all accounts they had all behaved badly. 

He would use their bad behaviour to chastise them, and put them in their place, hopefully. He had been too lenient with them both for some time. Maybe now was the time to set a stricter regime at home.

Nathanial glared at Roger as he was guided into his study by Rachael. 

"I have a problem you can help me with. I have to leave this afternoon for an important meeting. Angela and her mother are due home this evening, and I won't be here to receive them. Do you think you are capable of signing for them in my absence?" Nathanial asked.

"Yes, sir. What exactly do I need to do?" he asked.

"Just that. Sign for their return, like a couple of parcels," he dismissively stated. 

They looked at each other with a hint of amusement. They both knew how Angela would react over such an indignity. Bridget, his wife, could be a handful too. She knew how to manipulate a man and make him suffer. Roger realised it wasn't going to be as simple as Nathanial made it sound. This looked like being his punishment for letting Hollie trick them into being sent away.

"My advice is to keep your errant slave-girl away from here. What are you going to do with her tonight?" Nathanial asked.

"Err, she's safely tucked up in her cage, sir," Roger lied. He wasn't going to admit that she had run away. He had no idea where she was, or how she managed to escape. 

"Well, good. Perhaps you have learnt to keep a slave in check. I have too," he relented. "Don't forget you are the master of the house while I am away. The two slaves and Angela, are to obey you. Make sure they understand that. Any trouble from them and you are to chastise them. Tell them they will be facing my anger on my return," he firmly stated.

Roger didn't think that would be an easy task, for him or Nathanial. The two women would be furious from the indignity of suffering pony-girl training.

"What should I do with them?" Roger stupidly asked.

"Whatever you damn well please! They are slaves Roger. Use them," Nathanial crossly stated. He meant Roger should make them suffer for all the trouble they had caused.

"Slave! Are my bags packed?" Roger demanded to know. 

"Yes master," Rachael demurely said.

"Roger is your master until I return. Obey him. She has a nice comfortable bottom, Roger," Nathanial said, and slapped Rachael's ass. "Make use of it while you can. I shan't be able to when they return," he wistfully said.

The heavy double front doors slammed shut. A limousine crunched away on the drive.

Roger sat in the study contemplating Angela's return with unease. Nathanial's daughter was a spoilt brat, with an attitude problem. At least his wife was an experienced slave and knew her place. Having so much experience meant she knew how to get her own way, though more subtly than Angela.

Rachael coughed to gain his attention. She was leaning on the desk, looking over her shoulder at the young man. He looked up from his reverie, blinking his eyes. She lifted the back of the short skirt to reveal a bare bottom. 

"Does master wish to make use of his slave?" Rachael flatly stated.

It was humiliating being passed from one master to another. Especially as this one was so young. She thought it better to get it over with, rather than have him messing with her while he got up courage to take her. She tried to entice him by wiggling her bottom at him. The sooner he was satisfied the sooner she could return to her room for some peace.

Roger decided to test himself with this new slave. She seemed easier to deal with then Angela or her mother. 

"Let's see what you have to offer, slave," Roger demanded. At least she knew what was meant, and reacted quickly. She stripped off the blouse and skirt, to stand naked before him. As expected she wore no underwear. Her breasts stood up well considering her age. 

She turned around for him to take in a full, hourglass figure. With a slim waist her breasts were impressive. Her bottom was larger than she would have liked, but she worked on it to keep it firm. With long slim legs she looked good in high heels and stockings, and even now while naked. 

She was proud of her shape, and could see he was interested. Perhaps he wouldn't bugger her as Nathanial had after all. 

She enjoyed playing at being a slave occasionally, and had arranged to spend a week with a master. Something came up, and the man she had references for passed her on to Nathanial. It was embarrassing as Nathanial knew who she was. He would keep her dirty little secret, though In return she had to submit completely to him. Whereas she normally had strict rules over what she would submit to.

When he buggered her she was appalled and humiliated. She still didn't like that kind of sex, but the humiliation was tremendous. It kept her in place as his obedient slave, as well as the threat of exposure if she stepped out of line. 

Her husband had to take on an unexpected overseas appointment, so Nathanial decided to keep her here until he returned. Only having played a weekend of games before a whole week seemed a long time to be a slave. Now the week had been extended, she found herself settling into the role.

Rachael pushed out her chest to display a pair of impressive breasts. Sucking in her stomach she hoped to impress him. It wasn't dignified for a respectable woman to be flaunting her body at a young eighteen year old. That she needed to impress him to avoid rejection, made it all the more humiliating.

He was a handsome young man, and she was his slave. Her pussy began to throb in anticipation.

After examining her body, Roger eventually took a good look at her face. He had been too preoccupied to look at her properly until now. He almost gasped out loud. He was sure the shock showed, though fortunately she was demurely looking down at the floor, as a well trained slave should. 

He recognised her as one of his parents friends! Rachael and her husband weren't close friends like Nathanial. He recognised her as they both regularly attended his parents parties. She obviously hadn't recognised him. Fortunately he kept out of the way of his father's boring functions.

Wow! This beautiful woman was standing naked before him, ready to obey anything he wanted. What would his father say, or her husband, if they found out she had offered her asshole to him? The temptation was too much to resist.

"Crawl over here, you know what to do, slave. Don't make me cum, or I'll punish you," he warned. 

The thought of spanking one of his parents friends was interesting. Watching her mouth slowly close upon his cock was fascinating. If he hadn't had so much experience of this with Hollie, he would have cum over her face. He keenly watched her suck him into her mouth, and swallow. He felt her chin nudge his balls and quivered in delight.

She gripped the base of his cock with long slim fingers to hold off an orgasm. She kept the pace slow, swallowing his cock on every other long stroke. Her own body was responding too. That he didn't want to cum in her mouth meant he intended to fuck her. He had muscular thighs, so hoped he had a decent technique to go with the strength.

"Enough, slave," Roger said. He only just managed to push her away. The idea of spurting his cum into this woman's mouth and down her throat, was almost too much to resist. Hollie had been older than him, but having this important mature woman, was awesome.

"Lie back and play with yourself," he ordered, while he tried to recover.

Rachael was sure now. Unless he intended to cum over her body, he was going to fuck her. Through narrowed eyes she watched him calming down. So he had experience after all. It was promising to be a good night. She wondered what he would be like. Fast and furious, or a comfortable slow screw. Either way, she was desperate enough to enjoy the feel of him entering her.

He watched her slim fingers twirling over a bald pussy. Her lips were already parted, and slick. As her bud appeared he compared her sex with Hollie. This woman had plump lips with a long fat clit.

He got onto the floor between her legs to seesaw his cock over her lips. She hefted her hips up at him, as Hollie would have done, though less wildly. The woman was more in control, and less frantic. 

"Keep still!" he told her.

The moment had to be enjoyed. He was about to shaft one of his parents friends. She was one of the jet set, married to an important political contact of his fathers. Keeping her waiting for his cock was great. She was breathing heavily, and squirming under him. All that he had learnt with Hollie was paying off.

"Please master! Please fuck your slave," she moaned.

With great delicacy he smoothly slid into her body. It was gratifying to hear a whine of appreciation. 

"Keep still, slave. Your master wants to use his cunt," Roger demanded.

"Oh! Yes! Master!" Rachael bleated plaintively. "Use your cunt master. Fuck your slave cunt master," she whined.

She hadn't been so degraded in a long time. That it was a young man fulfilling her fantasy was surprising. Though she was passed thinking, and just reacting to a deep, all consuming need.

"Please master, fuck your slave hard and deep, please!" she screeched.

Roger calmly began to thrust harder. He was enthralled by her reactions. It was possible to keep himself under control from reminding himself who she was. The reward for his patience was soon on its way. 

"Your slave is near, master. Please master, let your slave cum, please!" she implored him.

"Cum for your master, slave," Roger ordered, almost laughing at her pathetic whimpering. He kept perfectly still, with his cock buried deep inside. Her body twitched and her inner muscles contracted around his cock.

He started to slowly ride her again. She lay limp under him, accepting his use of her body. This time she murmured acquiescence rather than pleading for satisfaction. Again he felt her orgasm. Less dramatically, yet more deeply, and for longer.

He rolled off her sated body to lay on the floor. While waiting for her to recover, he silently thanked Hollie for teaching him so much. Hollie had been his teacher in school, and his teacher in the bedroom.

"Pleasure you master," he simply ordered.

Rachael obediently went to work on him. She licked and sucked his nipples, while fondling his balls. She worked her way down his body with lips, teeth, and tongue. She sucked on his balls, and licked his groin, holding back from touching his penis. 

Anticipating the order to taste his cock, she lowered her lips over its head, and gripped it for a moment. With both hands massaging his body, she lowered her head onto his cock to swallow it whole. She began to bob her head up and down, in a steady, strong rhythm.

She wanted him to cum. She wanted to be a dutiful and satisfying slave. 

Roger couldn't hold back any longer. With his cock in her throat he began to orgasm. He felt the sperm streaming from his cock. He was pumping sperm into her belly. He felt her throat gripping him tight until she needed a breath. His cock continued to spurt. She caught the rest it in her mouth.

When he opened his eyes, she sat on her haunches beside him. She opened her mouth to show his cum on her tongue. As a slave she couldn't demand it, she depended on her masters whim, patiently waiting for permission to swallow. He smiled at her.

"You may swallow your masters cum, slave," he informed her.

***

Hollie thought she had progressed well over the last few months. All her belongings had been left behind after escaping with Mark, her young rescuer. He bought her some panties, which took some getting used to as she hadn't worn underwear for awhile. It would take longer getting used to being free, and making decisions for herself once again.

Mark was sweet enough not to actually demand sex, but she felt obliged, for he rescued her from a life of slavery. Living at his parents beach house, while they were back home, also made her feel obligated. 

The sex had been alright, with lots of cuddles, which she needed after such a dramatic experience living as a slave. It just wasn't exciting, compared to when she had to submit to a master. 

They lived on his allowance while she looked for a job. She took a waitress job, and saved up for a deposit on a cheap apartment. The tips were generous from customers because she wore a short skirt and a skimpy top. As much as possible was put aside to buy respectable clothes. 

One of the older waitresses figured Hollie had run away from someone, and assumed it was an abusive husband. They rallied round with a fellow feeling of comradeship to protect her. Especially the older one, who fussed over her like a mother hen. Anyone who became too familiar was given a tongue lashing. 

When mark returned home to his parents and she moved into the apartment, an empty feeling overwhelmed her. 

On a cheap old computer she made contact with others into the dominance and submission scene. Most didn't really understand, though one day a strong male contacted her. He pressed all the right buttons, enough to get her reliving those heady days as a slave.

While a slave she met Rachael, who told her about playing the occasional game as a weekend slave. Hollie wondered if she dare become her cyber masters actual slave for a short time. 

The yearnings for a strong master to take control of her life were still there. It was a warning not to let it happen again. It all started as just a silly game, not anticipating a gradual descent into a state of absolute submission. She dare not offer herself to a man, in case she gave up everything to become a permanent slave-girl. She had been lucky to escape, and next time might not be so fortunate. 

***

Hollie bought decent clothes, and was ready to start a teaching job. The first day was going to test her strength of will. No one knew of her dreadful past, so it was a fresh beginning. 

All went well until a big handsome teenager stood in front of her desk. The feelings of subservience to a master came bubbling to the surface, which she struggled to contain. All she could do was stare at the history book open in front of her.

"Miss. I hear you are new around here. You need someone to show you around," he offered. The guys had dared him to ask her for a date. He was brash and confident enough to carry it out. 

It didn't matter what he said, it was the way he spoke and the confident way he carried his muscular frame.

"That's very kind of you, Jimmy. If you settle down to studying, and get good grades in history, I'll take you up on the offer," Hollie replied. 

She gave him a sad smile. She should have put him down, or rebuked him in some way. Instead she was feeling submissive and weak. Realising how vulnerable she still was, left her feeling pathetic. To her surprise he didn't register it that way at all. He gave her a big warm smile in return. 

"Thanks miss. I will," he said, and returned to his desk. 

Others chipped in by offering to show her the sights, make a list of places to eat, and where to shop. 

"Hang on, this is supposed to be a history lesson. Why don't you start with a list of historic places. We can go visit them if you like. I'm a bit too old for clubs," she laughed.

"No miss, you're not old, your fit," one lad told her. The class quietened down, thinking he had gone too far.

"Thanks, I appreciate that vote of confidence," she smiled at him. Their genuine praise and helpfulness boosted her morale. She noticed the others around him giving the poor guy a clear warning to keep quiet.

"If we make a list of places to visit will you come with us?" one of them suggested.

"Sure, that sounds great," Hollie smiled.

"Is that a date then miss?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes, Jimmy. My first date in California," she laughed. "Now let's settle down to my first history lesson, OK?" Hollie quietly requested.

From then on she needn't worry about discipline in class. Her kind demeanour and genuine caring smile was enough. The word was put around that she was a good teacher, and anyone who misbehaved would be dealt with by her number one fans.

***

It was the last day of term, so she was free for a few weeks. 

She smiled from thinking of the word, 'free'. It held so many meanings now. As a slave she had been free of all responsibilities. Her behaviour was now restricted to what everyone expected of her. She was a wage slave, dependent on a job. 

Hollie wondered if she should take a waitress job again, to kick start the savings plan. Being financially secure was another sort of freedom. The class had left school with excitement over their kind of freedom. 

She pulled herself together, deciding to get home. She stood up and straightened the skirt. The feel of stockings, suspenders, and a thong, wasn't particularly thrilling. It was the fact that her cyber master had ordered it, giving her a naughty thrill. 

It wasn't much compared to what Roger had made her do, but it was something. There were a lot of little habits she still had from being his slave. She still shaved between the legs as Roger had demanded. She missed the feel of his hand checking her sex was smooth enough. 

She sat in the car fingering the slave collar. He had been right, a special key was needed to remove it, and it had been impossible to find one that fit. Stores and the internet had been searched, to no avail. Fortunately it looked like a modern piece of art jewellery. 

It was an expensive gift, but it would have been better to give it back. The slave collar was a constant reminder of her status in life. She had accepted complete subjugation at the feet of a master. It was still difficult to forget she had promised to be his slave forever. 

Hollie pulled out of the school parking lot a little too fast. She needed to contact her master for a fix. The need was building inside her. With a thrill of anticipation she wondered what new adventure he had thought up.

Each morning she made a movie of herself getting dressed, and sent it to her cyber master. It was proof that she wore the clothes he had specified. Being careful not to show her face, or reveal where she lived, was a necessary precaution.

Some time ago he ordered her to walk through a mall wearing a light summer dress, without underwear. A small hand held camera caught her reflection in the store fronts as she passed. There wasn't much left to the imagination. She gratefully accepted his praise after receiving the movie.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 17



Another time she had worn a hookers outfit, to walk among them in the late evening. She of course declined the offers. Someone she vaguely recognised had her pulse racing. The punter didn't recognise her, as he was too busy looking down the deep cleavage. Of course, he didn't expect a respectable teacher to be out on the prowl.

A few sessions at home under his instructions, had her panting for a climax. While tied to the bed blindfolded, a session nearly ended in disaster. She panicked when a key to the cuffs fell on the floor. She writhed and struggled, until she began to moan and groan. The camera was rolling, capturing her writhing naked body.

The feelings of vulnerability from having her limbs tightly bound, brought back old experiences. She was spread out on the bed showing off nipple and pussy lip piercings. The tattoo above her pussy showed her registered slave number. 

She eventually managed to slip a sweaty wrist from a handcuff to reach the key. It was a disappointment not to be found naked and helpless by a stranger. The thought of her nasty secret being discovered had been the inspiration for a fulfilling orgasm.

Her master was very complimentary over capturing the mood of that episode. Though most times it wasn't enough to push her over the edge, when just pretending to have a master. She needed a master to be there, to overwhelm her resistance and take control.

Besides, she had been forced to play far more dangerous games, so these weren't enough. Eventually she had to admit an essential ingredient was missing. She needed to be humiliated.

After signing onto the computer she was pleased to find a new message waiting. Each of her masters instructions had been more daring and imaginative. Would this be the one to set her alight? Would this prove he was a worthy master?

It was a shopping trip for a new outfit. Disappointed that it was so mundane, she nevertheless felt a compunction to obey the instructions. The slave role where she submitted a master was more than a habit. She deeply needed to obey a master. At least having a cyber master was safer than committing for real. 

***

In the store a young guy was heavy going, as he was treating her like a stupid housewife. Before her submissive side had surfaced, she would have put him down with a flippant and cutting remark. 

Instead she was immersing herself in the role of a submissive slave. Hollie was absorbing the humiliation to use later in a bath-time fantasy. As a submissive she had to accept his snide remarks, which grew more obvious with his confidence. He thought she was quiet from being nervous in a sex store, and was taking advantage. 

The more he treated her in a demeaning manner, the more she sank into the familiar way of thinking. She was pushing herself into the slave role, to get the most out of the little adventure.

The cheerleaders outfit could be innocently explained away as being for a costume party. The nipple clamps were another thing entirely. Having to ask him for them was embarrassing. When he told her to try them on, it was humiliating. It was a reminder of the time she had been a real slave, which started to stoke her up.

"I don't want you bringing that cheerleader outfit back saying it doesn't fit, when you find it doesn't work on your husband. You bored housewives are all the same. You waste my time, and I lose my commission when you bring stuff back," he dismissively stated.

Hollie trotted off on high heels to the changing room, as though his suggestion were an order. The short, flared cheerleader skirt, and tiny top, did fit as expected. She looked in the dirty mirror, wishing there was a more up-market store within driving distance, instead of this shabby place.

The curtain was pulled back startling her.

"Are you going to take all day?" he meanly asked. 

"You could at least clean this small mirror," she blurted out.

The banal remark was met by a disdainful look, leaving her feeling awkward. 

"Take a look out here, is this big enough and clean enough for the Lady?" he asked, in a patronising tone.

Being dragged out into the store was unexpected. Letting a young guy manhandle her was wrong, yet she could say nothing. For the past few weeks she had taken to wearing stockings and suspenders, for her cyber master's pleasure. Or should she say her pleasure.

Under a dress the skimpy underwear was decently concealed. In the tiny outfit it was revealed, and on public view! Below the tiny skirt her bare thighs, and stocking tops with suspender straps, were on show for everyone to see.

It was embarrassing looking into the full length mirror, seeing her breasts balancing on top of a push up bra. It looked as though her breasts were about to explode. The thin top hardly hid the nipple piercings, or her engorged nipples. 

If this had been an adventure with a master to protect her, it would have been exciting. With this young callous youth checking her out, it was humiliating and dangerous. The role of slave kicked in, allowing her to suffer the indignity of it. She was just a slave-girl, so it was alright to be ordered around by a dominant male.

When she began to think of him as her master she cut short the idea. It shocked her to realize how out of control she had become. The distasteful image amplified the role, pushing her further into being nothing more than a common slut. She was heating up, becoming even more aroused.

Hollie twirled the skirt, showing off her panties. Breathing deeply, watching her breasts heave into a deep bursting cleavage, every breath was turning into gasps. The state of arousal was happening far too quickly to hold back. She just couldn't turn away from the slutty image, or curtail the slutty reaction.

"It looks as though you need calming down," the guy leered.

Hollie was appalled. She just stood there letting him pull the top away from her breasts, exposing them to everyone in the store. She felt him squeeze the clamps, tightening them upon a nipple, then the other. He pulled the top back in place, which hung just below her breasts. 

The image was all the more lascivious and indecent. The chain connecting the clamps showed clearly through the top. Her nipples were responding by growing long and hard. Her pussy was growing too. It was opening up to be slick and puffy.

"Come along, you're going to need something," the young man told her. 

He grabbed a hand, giving her little choice except to follow him. He took a large dildo off a rack and pushed it into a hand. 

"You'll need this when your husband can't match your expectations," he said, with an exaggerated smirk.

"Thank you, sir," she responded. The words slipped from full pouting lips in a breathy whisper. It was better than calling him master, though still embarrassing to be so deferential to a young stranger.

If he had told her to use it right there and then, she might have. She was so worked up there was little resistance to anything he cared to demand. It was a dreadful thought, being so hot that a stranger could brush aside her sense of decency. 

She was a mature woman trying hard to be a respectable teacher, yet this young guy had her sexed up. She was prepared to drop her knickers for this obnoxious eighteen year old. It was of her own making, and her fault for diving into the slave role so deeply.

Something had to be done about this weakness before something nasty happened. The games played with her cyber master, to brighten up a mundane life had been relatively safe, up until now. She hadn't realized the slave training received from Roger still left her so vulnerable.

It was frightening to find how quickly she lost control. This kid was leading her around the store, as though she were on a leash. If he did fasten a leash to the slave collar, she would be trapped into submitting to him as an obedient slave-girl.

From that moment she repeated to herself that she was a slave-girl, so only her master had a right to make demands upon her. It was a mistake. She felt her subservience transferring from her cyber master, over to him. It was becoming worse the more he ordered her around.

She compliantly sat down on a chair while he pushed a pair of glossy red, high heels on her feet. He pulled her legs apart, brazenly staring between her open legs while tightening the straps around her ankles. 

She felt the panties wetly creasing between her open lips, knowing he could see the awful reaction to his teasing. 

"You'll need some panties to go with that outfit, unless you want to show off all you've got," he disdainfully commented. 

Hollie remembered the little panties were transparent. Perfectly alright under the dress, but this young guy was taking a close look at what was in them. The short skirt would bounce up back and front with every step she took, for a bawdy display of her private places. 

The high heels were tightly gripping her ankles, enough to feel as though they were manacles. They might as well be, as there was no way she could kick the shoes off. She now had to concentrate on staying upright on the high heel spikes as he pulled her along. 

A French maids outfit was an obvious next article to be purchased, along with more obscene garments. He made a show of selecting a stretchy nylon cat suit, with open crotch and cut out breasts. He was enjoying the awkward embarrassment she was suffering. They paused by a stand, to throw garish make-up into a bag, while he bombarded her with sales patter. 

"This lipstick will go well with the outfit and shoes," he explained. 

She let him apply a bright, glossy red lipstick. It was so horrendous, it would have to be cleaned off before leaving the store.

"Thank you sir," she demurely replied.

The kid had the audacity to pat her bottom under the little skirt, yet still she couldn't complain Instead she blushed furiously, for her cheeks to match the garish lipstick. She looked down at the worn old carpet, feeling and looking all the more submissive. 

He picked out some frilly underwear to go with the outfit, and all she could do was nod assent. With a large pile of expensive items on the counter, the ordeal seemed over. Hollie handed over a credit card, wincing at the amount. It would wipe out her meager savings and she didn't have a credit rating yet.

Thankfully he was merely interested in his commission, rather than her body. She was probably too old for the kid. The thought left her feeling lowly and insignificant.

She had been forced to spend a fortune, but was escaping unscathed. Almost without hurt. Shamefully, there was a certain disappointment that he hadn't tried it on with her. Considering the state she was in, it wouldn't have taken much to have her on her knees before him.

"No need to change, just go home and surprise your husband," the young guy mocked her, with a nasty leer.

She tried to protest, but he was guiding her to the door with a strong grip upon her arm. He drowned out her protests with glib chatter. She was loaded down with bags, without a free hand, so he naturally opened the door. Even as he ushered her out the store, she tried to tell him she needed to change from the cheerleader outfit.

"Have a nice day, and hopefully a good night with your husband. It is your husband I hope, and not someone on the side," he said, with a wink. 

Desperate not to leave the store dressed so shabbily, she turned to him. 

"Can't let you leave the store looking dishevelled, as though you've had a good time, can I," he derisorily commented. 

He took a hold of her breasts, trying to shove them further into the top, only making a hash of it, and gave up. He gripped her shoulders and turned her around. He patted her bottom again, this time gripping her crotch. 

"You're so wet! You must have enjoyed yourself more than I thought. You're more than ready for a good fucking. Run along before I change my mind and help myself to your wet cunt," he leered in her ear.

As quickly as she could while loaded down with shopping bags, she trotted away from the store. The demeaning words rang in her ear. He was right. If he decided to, the callous adolescent could have just helped himself to her body. 

In the outrageous outfit she stumbled along through the mall, feeling hurt and belittled. She dare not look around at the other shoppers, feeling they were staring at her. The sound of high heels clacked loudly in her ears, and must be attracting attention.

She could feel the feathery hem bouncing around her thighs, showing off a pair of sheer panties. Slowing down wasn't an option, as she simply had to keep going, needing to reach the safety of her car. Hunching her shoulders, she tried to hide her breasts, which threatened to bounce out of the skimpy top.

Stumbling on the unaccustomed heels, she came close to bumping into someone. The automatic apology froze on her lips. It was a mirror. It was her! The image was unrecognisable, and so very indecent. She was no longer an upright teacher, she looked like a dreadful fantasy whore. 

With greater incentive she increased the clip clop, even risking a fall. At the large double doors of the exit, she tried to manipulate the bags to free up a hand. If she had been thinking straight she would have dumped the lot. Though how could she, as the purchases were more than she could afford. They would have to be returned once she regained her composure.

A group of young guys barged in, with a following breeze catching the skirt. The stares turned to nudges and laughter. They rudely gawped at her. They pressed in close, though not offering to help. The laughter turned to ribald comments. She tried to block them out.

"Great tits, like the chain!" a boy jeered. 

"Can I pull your chain?" another offered.

"Nice ass, girl," one of them said, over her shoulder.

"Nice shaved pussy, girl" a large guy standing in front of her stated.

"It looks so smooth, and wet too," another added.

The one barring her way made a gesture with his hands, as though cradling her breasts. They all laughed, surrounding her with shame. If it had been an adventure with a master it would have been safe and exciting, instead it was deplorable. 

Her breasts were heaving with every gasp, pushing them into a bulging cleavage. The nipples were slipping closer to popping out with every desperate breath. They were protruding through the thin material, with the clamps deplorably on show. The cool breeze from outside plastered the skirt against her bare belly. 

She felt close to collapsing at their feet. She said nothing to defend herself, so they became bolder, with innuendo turning to outright suggestions. Next, it would be actions rather than just dirty talk.

An older man walked in and shouted something at them. She just heard the word security, and was relieved to hear them jog away. The comments they threw back were even worse, calling her too old to be a cheerleader, and that she must be a whore.

The man held the door open, but she couldn't thank him, she was so embarrassed. She scurried out with head bowed, quickly stumbling toward the parking lot. There was a steady breeze around the building, but she didn't have a spare hand to hold the skirt down. 

"Damn! Shit!" she exclaimed. This was the wrong exit. She would have to walk right around the building to another parking lot. There was no way she could risk walking back in there. Whichever way she turned the skirt blew up, showing off her cute ass or denuded pussy. 

Even on the sheltered side of the building it was a walk of shame. Her bare thighs and stocking tops were clearly on show. It looked as though she were going on duty in a sports bar, or worse, as a hooker. If the police stopped would they assume she was a prostitute. Going through the bags would confirm it. Would they have enough evidence to prosecute her? The shame of that would be deadly.

Trotting along she told herself to only obey her master. She was a masters property, and couldn't submit to anyone else. She made it a mantra, that her master had to be obeyed, and only her master.

"This is my masters cunt, and must not be used by a humble slave-girl, or anyone else," she repeated. 

The nipple clamps were tight, and rubbed against the top with every step. They kept pulling on her nipples, keeping them pumped up. It wouldn't have been so bad if she had arranged this herself, as an exciting adventure. It would have been at night when no one could see her.

The young guy in the sex store had forced her into this terrible fix. He had shoved her out the door, laughing at her predicament. Her cyber master had ordered that she buy nipple clamps, assuming she would be fired up when her nipples were tweaked. This terrible situation hadn't been envisioned.

Plenty of people had seen her. She looked so despicably torrid, anyone would look at her and sneer.

Men had openly stared. The suspender straps were on view, and more when a light breeze lifted the hem. Women and young girls had scowled at her. Young guys had made awful rude remarks about her body, and especially about her prominent nipples.

At last a large sign indicated she had made it to the right section. Her car was at the far end. She nervously looked around, worried that horrid group of young guys might find her. 

From being so heated up she was terribly vulnerable to anyone who made demands upon her. She would take their rude comments as a master's order. Their callous remarks couldn't be resisted. They would soon find out how susceptible she was. 

It would be terrible being led away by them, being pulled by the chain connecting the nipple clamps. The pain and humiliation would work her up into a frenzy. Spending the school break being used as a gang slut would be devastating. Serving them all in the crudest way possible would be impossible to resist. Would they ever let a compliant sex slave go?

Hollie shook her head, trying desperately to get rid of the awful images. She had to try and calm down.

Within sight of safety, a patrol car pulled up in her path. The window slid down and the officer told her to get in. He didn't say much. He told her she was under arrest for lewd behavior. Confronted by such a powerful figure of authority had her agreeing with his assessment of her. The shame of it was enough to silence her. 

Everything happened so quickly. Suffering from shock she merely answered questions as best she could. After being processed, and shut into a smelly cell, she cried her eyes out. It reminded her of being caged by Angela. She was appalled to find the humiliation of this dire situation aroused her.

A bang on the door brought her around. Led out to stand before a custody officer, she had a decision to make. Contact someone she knew for bail, or stay there overnight. There was no-one she could call upon for help, and her credit card had been maxed out in that dreadful store. 

A young woman nudged her. "My man can bail you," she offered. 

Before Hollie could think it through, she accepted. What choice was there? Facing the shame of having a colleague from school pay the bail to release her was an horrendous idea.

She walked out in silence with the young woman. They climbed into a bright shiny car. She was desperate enough to leave the bags and jump out at the next light on red. The girls chatter went unheard, as the city blocks sped by. She would have to find the money somehow, to pay back this man. At least she could keep the shameful event secret.

She could explain it all to her cyber master. He might pay the bail and fine, she hoped. He always said he would look after her, if she needed him. Could she ever face him, after all that she had confided to him? She had lied about some important things too. She wasn't the person he thought she was. He had told her it didn't matter, as he cared for the inner person she presented.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 17



"We're, here," the girl repeated, and nudged her. 

Hollie came to from a daydream realizing the car had pulled up. She followed them into an old warehouse, assuming it was where they lived. She had heard about these expensive modern apartments. 

The assumption began to change when they walked in. There was a small reception room leading to a sparsely decorated room. A huge bed was the center of attention. There were ceiling mirrors, and built in wardrobes around the room.

"Let's have a look at these toys you have," Benny said. "Amateurish stuff," he casually commented.

"Strip off, I want to look you over," he demanded.

It looked as though he was going to take her as payment!

The girl pulled at her clothes, and despite a pathetic resistance she soon stood before them in her underwear. It really felt as though she were naked. She was a respectable teacher, or had tried to be, yet felt like a stupid slut. They thought she was a cheap whore, so treated her with disdain.

"I need to go home," Hollie meekly said.

"Don't worry, it won't take long. You're past your best, but you'll do," Mark told her.

"I like this," the girl said, while pulling on the nipple clamps.

To her dismay she was still aroused. Being treated callously, and having her nipples pulled so hard, stoked the enduring arousal. It was humiliating, and dangerous. The girl led her around by the chain, pulling hard on her nipples. 

Opening wardrobes one after another, the girl showed off lewd outfits. It sank in that this wasn't their apartment, it was their place of business. This was a high class whorehouse.

This was how she was going to pay back what she owed!

She would have to entertain his guests. That's how he put it. She was going to become his whore! This was no ordinary whorehouse either. It specialized in the unusual. Demanding clients would pay for a few hours of her time, when she would have to pander to their dark urges. 

By the look of the outfits it included a lot of unusual fetishes. Or, at least to her they were unusual. Hell! This was a nightmare, not a favorite fantasy. Despite the awfulness of the idea, she became ever more aroused.

Hollie couldn't pay the pimp on your credit card, or even pay the rent after those purchases. She was trapped! He wasn't going to let her go without payment, so she was stuck there, expected to entertain a client. 

The guy was used to ordering women around. When he spoke he expecting her to fall in line with his demands. This is not what she expected a masterful man to be, her pimp. The arousal pushed her into subservience, unable to escape his dominance. 

Instead of screaming and shouting, she submissively complied with his orders. She showered and pulled on a light cotton gown. She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how to cope with this terrible situation. 

The door had been tried several times, and there were old warehouse bars on the windows. More and more she sank into the role of submissive slave. Being a slave-girl was one thing, but a whore-slave? How was she going to survive this?

Sandy kept an eye on the new girl, while Benny visited her apartment. He found the keys and address in her purse, and decided to check on her. He recognized the expensive collar, which confirmed his opinion of her behavior. He recognized a trained slave when he saw one. 

He had made scouting trips to clubs, looking for women who wanted a thrill. There were a few who would get off on the idea of being a whore for the night. He made money from their sordid appetite, so everyone was happy. This one was different. She lived in a cheap apartment, so wasn't a rich-bitch playing around.

On the way back to the warehouse he made a few phone calls. Photos were sent to those he thought would be interested.

Hollie had finished a light meal, when Benny opened the door and walked in with a stranger. She almost threw up.

"This is Brad, Hollie. She will look after you," Benny stated. It wasn't the guys real name, but he had real money and that was all that mattered.

Standing naked before the older man, Hollie was frightened. With head bowed she watched out of the corner of her eye, as Benny left the room. She felt abandoned. Surely this stranger would have some sympathy for her. She wanted to drop to her knees to implore him for help.

"I've been told you're a trained slave-girl," the man smiled. 

Hollie nodded.

"You know what to do and say," he sternly warned.

"Yes, master, sorry master," Hollie deferentially replied. 

In a smooth well practiced motion, she glided onto the plush carpet to take her slave position. With thighs spread wide, hands palm upwards on her knees, she draped her head low. The submissive pose had been learnt at the feet of Roger, her trainer and master. 

She tried to control her breathing, to become calm in preparation for this man's pleasure. The realization that she had been recognized as a trained slave was a heavy blow. It meant she wasn't just a whore. She would be used as a sex slave, unable to resist anything a man wanted her to do.

Not only that. As a slave she could be kept in permanent submission by her pimp. He would be her master, loaning her to men who would be her master for a short time. Making money from her use, he wouldn't let her go once the debt had been paid. He would know she could be kept as his whore-slave, forever.

The slave collar weighed heavily around her neck. The burden of a future as nothing more than whore-slave, defeated all resistance. Freedom had been just a short remission. She was once again a compliant slave, waiting upon a masters pleasure.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 18



Roger was pleased with himself. Rachael was a friend of his parents and she hadn't recognised him, which was perfect under the circumstances. The woman was playing at being a slave in Nathanial's home, and Roger had been asked to look after her. Before leaving Nathanial instructed her to obey Roger, and she had certainly played the part well as his slave. Rachael gave him a blowjob, followed by a hot sex session on the lounge carpet. 

Rachael was on hands and knees cleaning up the mess they made on the antique Persian rug. He lounged back in an easy chair watching her bare ass wiggling seductively. She didn't have permission to get dressed yet, so remained naked. The older woman was tall with a trim figure, which was kept in good shape with regular exercise. Although she was Roger's parents age, she was attractive and would soon have him aroused, even after the earlier intense performance. 

The haughty was she behaved with her husband at functions, meant it was impossible to imagine her playing out this sordid, secret game. He sat quietly musing over what might occur when they met at one of his parents dinner parties. He imagined her embarrassment on realizing she had pandered to the whims of a friend's son, while acting out the roll of a sex slave. 

Rachael walked in from the kitchen to stand by him, dutifully awaiting instructions. He looked so young, yet curiously he had experience as a master. Discreetly looking him over she was pleased with what she saw. Acting as a young boys slave was humiliating, and she thrived on those feelings. This hunky young man had aroused and satisfied her, so there was no complaint.

Ending up here had been an accident, yet it had turned out well. A carefully arranged week, serving a stranger as his slave was supposed to be on her terms. Unfortunately the man had to break the arrangement, and passed her on to someone else. Being passed on to a stranger she hadn't investigated beforehand was dangerous. It turned out to be Nathanial who knew her, and more importantly, he knew her husband. 

It was vital the dirty furtive games were kept a secret. Nathanial knew this, so she was trapped there, unable to refuse whatever he demanded. Her usual limits and game rules couldn't be enforced with the threat of her secret being revealed. 

Instead of it being a horrendous experience, she found herself thriving on the humiliation, and became so aroused she enjoyed his every order, however demeaning. 

Being passed on yet again, like a parcel, was demeaning. That it was to a young man half her age was all the more exciting. It was a surprise to find he was an accomplished master, and knew how to satisfy her.

As a mature woman, married to a successful diplomat, this young guy should be treating her with respect, yet she couldn't help herself obediently serving him. The sex session had been overpowering, and she still felt aroused in anticipation of what he might do to her next.

Roger looked at the time, and sighed. Nathanial's wife and daughter would arrive home soon, so it looked as though the fun was over. 

"Get dressed, slave," Roger regretfully ordered. 

At least he had the memory of screwing this attractive woman to look back on. He also looked forward to meeting up with her again. She was dressed as a naughty French maid, with breasts on show. With the dress high around her thighs everything else was exposed. He remembered her dressed in an expensive gown at one of his parents parties, and nearly laughed out loud.

***

Roger answered the phone connected to the estate gates. He watched an anonymous white van pull up the long driveway. The driver asked where the stables were, and Roger directed him to the back of the house. He knew they had been away for pony training, but couldn't imagine they would tolerate being delivered there. Knowing they would be pissed off, he wasn't sure if he could face them both. 

They would be angry from being tricked into being sent away, where they were subjected to a demeaning few weeks of training. It wasn't his fault, yet he shared some of the blame, as it was Hollie, his slave, who set them up. 

Bridget would probably save up the resentment to berate her husband, Nathanial, and give him a hard time when he arrived home. Her daughter, Angela, would probably strike out at whoever was around, and that meant him. 

Emerging from the kitchen he found the guy leading a leather clad woman out of the van. The feather plumed head gear, high heeled boots, and a high stepping gait, made her look elegant. It took concentrated effort to see it was Bridget, Nathanial's wife, under the pony-girl outfit. 

The woman was covered from head to foot in leather. A drool of spittle threatened to drip from the leather bit in her mouth. The hood blinkered her eyes, so she had to concentrate where she stepped, especially with knees lifted thigh high in a majestic pace. The knee length boots shaped her feet into hooves. He wondered how it was possible to stand in them, let alone take such high steps.

The guy tethered her to a ring bolt, which seemed entirely appropriate the way she looked. The tight fitting leather was shaped close to her body, hugging it between the cheeks and everywhere else. On closer examination it didn't cover her body entirely. There was a split at the crotch, leaving her sex accessible. 

Reminding himself this was Angela's mother, he stopped the intimate examination. Her breasts couldn't be ignored. Every time she moved little bells rang. They were attached to the nipples, which protruded through the outfit. 

It was difficult to gauge her mood, as the hood and blinkers covered most of her face. 

Hearing the tinkling of bells warned him of Angela's arrival. She was dressed exactly the same as her mother, except the breasts were fully exposed. They were perched on a leather shelf, scalloped to hold them up and out. Again the nipples were adorned with bells clamped to them. They looked swollen from the grip of the metal ring, and the motion of her walk jiggling her breasts. 

"The bays are clean, but they'll need hay to sleep on," the guy stated.

Roger looked around the barn with a vacant expression. 

"I'm just here tonight while Nathanial's away," Roger lamely explained.

The guy huffed and puffed with annoyance. He strode over to a bale and cut the twine. 

"Grab a pitch fork," he gruffly ordered, indicating another leaning against the wall. 

They broke open the bales, shoving hay into two stalls. They hadn't been used for awhile, since Angela had grown out of ponies to take notice of boys. 

"You'll need to strip them of those outfits and hose them down. Feed and water them, make sure they use the drain over there, and bed them down," the man informed him. 

After instructions on how to remove the leather suit, he added further instructions on how to feed them. Fortunately he left feed with two bottles. He strode away, shaking his head in annoyance, and drove off. He hadn't introduce himself, or talked much at all, except on the care of pony-girls. Roger doubted the feed would be needed, as they would be more than ready for a decent meal.

As for sleeping in the barn, well, that would be out of the question. They wouldn't be happy about him stripping them out of the outfits, but it would have to be done, as it would be impossible for them to peel off the tight fitting garments. Their arms were strapped to their backs, which meant they were helpless and uncomfortable.

One, then the other, snorted like a horse, and stamped a foot for attention. Both sets of bells tinkled loudly. They were shaking their bells at him for attention. He decided to leave the bits in place until after they were freed, wanting to delay the inevitable haranguing he would receive. 

He was nervous about removing the nipple clamps, but that had to be done before anything else. At last he had the outfits heaped on the floor. All they wore were the bits in their mouths with the reigns dangling. It was surprising how docile they were while he manipulated their bodies so intimately while removing the tight leather. 

He left removing the bits to them, yet they made no move to pull them out of their mouths. Their arms dangled listlessly at their sides, so maybe that was why. They just nodded their heads and snorted like ponies would.

It was beginning to look as though the training had been more thorough than expected, as they were compliantly waiting for instructions. What did the guy say? Hose them down? They were sweaty from wearing the leather, so maybe he should. Leading Angela over to the grid covering a drain, she stood as though anticipating his next move. 

While he unraveled a hose, she bent her legs apart and peed into the drain. It was a well practiced move, and she didn't seem embarrassed at all. Expecting her to come to her senses and rebel at any moment, he delayed pulling the trigger. She stood waiting with arms up as high as she could lift them. He sprayed the cold water over her body. Her only reaction was to turn slowly under the spray. She even separated her legs for an intimate dousing.

It was amazing that she submitted to such an indignity, yet she had. He merely glanced at her mother, for them to exchange places. It seemed this was a regular routine. He watched Bridget separate her feet and splay her legs to pee down the drain. When finished she pushed her arms out, ready to be sprayed. It seemed they couldn't lift their arms any higher, meaning they had endured having them fastened up their backs for long periods.

They were both denuded of hair, except on their heads, which had been cut short to fit under the harness and headgear. She too turned carefully to have her entire body cleansed. Her nipples were still engorged from the clamps tight grip, and they looked harder under the jet of cold water.

If they were willing to suffer this indignity then the training must have been thorough. They hadn't tried to say a word up until now, and didn't look as though they intended to. If they were willing to sleep in the stable it would allow him to play with his new slave. 

A smile lit his lips at the thought of having an experienced woman on the end of his cock. She had experience and a good technique. It had been a surprise to him finding Hollie had thrived on being humiliated, and this woman was the same. If that was what she wanted, he was more than willing to satisfy her desire.

The feeding bottles were fixed to the wall in both stalls. The two pony-girls eagerly suckled on them. It was only then he realized how deviously they were designed. He watched Angela swallow the penis shaped tube, pushing her lips against a trigger to receive the liquid feed. 

They were obviously ravenous, and knew what to do, which indicated that is all they had over the last few weeks. Looking them both over he considered they had lost weight. Their bodies were lean and fit from the training and not eating properly. An image came to mind of them prancing around a training yard, high stepping under the encouragement of a trainer's whip. 

They emptied the bottles, nestled down in the straw, and closed their eyes. Roger quietly left them to it. Having completed his duty to them, he locked the barn door to return to another more pleasant duty.

Sitting in the study, he read through the documentation returned with the two pony-girls. His slave stood by with eyes to the floor, awaiting his next command. It was a description of their progress through a thorough training regime. It was no wonder they were so quiet and submissive.

The phone rang, startling him. 

"Hi Nathanial. Yea, they're both back. No, they were no trouble," Roger replied. 

He sounded relieved to hear they had been returned home. A few days ago it looked as though they might be auctioned, in lieu of the training fees. Nathanial had been in a terrible state of anguish over the prospect of his wife and daughter being auctioned off to a stranger. As compliant pony-girls they would be at the buyers mercy, willingly performing for their new master.

"Good. I was expecting them to, well, you know what they are like. Do you think you could look after them for a few days? The meeting went too well. They want me to accompany the diplomat to his new posting, to introduce him around. Are you sure you can handle them? Don't forget, you are the master of the house, and they must obey you," Nathanial firmly stated. 

It would have been better returning home to face the expected tirade from wife and daughter. There was no choice, he had to go. Hopefully their anger would have been soothed by the time he returned. Roger was too young and inexperienced to keep them under control until he returned. If he tried they might take it out on him. It was unfair to saddle him with the problem, even though the young guy deserved some of the blame.

"Thanks, Roger, I appreciate your help. Try to keep a tight rein on them. They can get out of hand if you don't. Tell them you have my full authority. I leave it up to you how you handle them," Nathanial added.

Roger put the phone down. He almost told Nathanial how well trained they were, only he wasn't given the chance. According to the training document, they had been thoroughly prepared to obediently serve a master. Angela had been a pain in the ass at college. Always wanting her own way, and prepared to step on anyone to get it. Right now she was a well trained pony-girl, tamely ready to obey his every command. 

His eyes brightened considerably at the prospect of taking advantage of her. The way she swallowed the penis shaped feeding tube, had him enthralled. He glanced at Rachael, who patiently stood beside him awaiting his needs. The thought of playing with two slaves was an opportunity not to be missed. Angela's mother was interesting too, though perhaps that was going too far.

***

Hollie felt pathetic. Falling into this situation was worse than last year, and being so vulnerable meant it was impossible to fight it. At least last time it had been an innocent event. Roger had mistaken her for a fellow student, whereas now she had been mistaken for a whore. 

Roger had brought out of her a hidden desire for humiliation and submission. He had worked upon her over the months until she became a willing slave. It had been a fun game at first, though the consequences turned out to be alarming. In the presence of a dominant person she lost all self-control, handing over responsibility for her actions to them.

For the last few months these dangerous confrontations had been avoided. The need for submission and humiliation hadn't faded, they were just suppressed. Now she was in an even worse situation. The submissive feelings were so strong she couldn't to fight back, only comply to what was expected of her. 

The stranger had been introduced as Brad, and she wondered if it was his real name. He was looking over her naked body, relishing the prospect of using her. He was around forty, much older than Hollie. He had paid for her body, so what did she expect.

His dominant attitude had her slipping into the well learnt role of slave, which made it so much more humiliating. A professional prostitute had strict limits, but a slave-whore had to obey his every demand, however dreadful they might be. 

"Just do as I say, and we'll get on fine," Brad firmly stated. "You're a beautiful young woman," he added, while assessing the whore.

"I'm not really a, err, a, you know. I got into a bit of bother, and ended up here. Can you help me get out of here?" Hollie meekly asked.

"I might. Let's see what you're worth. Come here, girl," Brad ordered.

Under these circumstances she had little choice. She needed to co-operate to win him around; or so she excused the pathetic behavior. Would he pay what she owed that pimp? 

"I'll be really grateful if you helped me out of this!" Hollie simpered.

The sound of her pathetic voice was shaming. She held a respectable teaching position, and was on the way to recovering her dignity. All that had been worked for over the past months seemed to have evaporated.

"Let's see if you can be of use to me first," Brad heavily spoke.

Crawling over to the stranger, while naked, left Hollie feeling so very vulnerable.

He grabbed her breasts and tightly squeezed them. Hollie squealed pitifully when he pinched her nipples. He held on tight to painfully twist them. Letting go of the swollen nipples, he flicked them with his fingers.

"My they do grow nice and big," he complimented her. 

He put a hand to her sex to cup her crotch. 

"You're wet! Nice big lips too. You're such a hot bitch, and so easily excited. That makes you a right little slut. Let's see if you can take pain. If you can, I'll consider taking you away from here. Does that sound a good deal, slut,?" Brad asked.

"Yes, I, I, think so. Thank you, Sir," Hollie murmured.

"Call me master, you can remember that, with your dim slutty mind, can't you?" he asked, and roughly twisted both nipples.

"Yes, master," Hollie panted. 

She was prepared to put up with anything to get away from there. The dreadful pimp had told her she would have to stay for a week, servicing strangers to pay back what she owed. The thought of having sex with several men a night was more than she could cope with. The terrifying equipment in this place would be used on her by men not caring anything for a whore. She gritted her teeth, determined to do anything this old guy wanted. She would have to submit to him, and prove she was worthy of consideration.

"Go and get the nipple clamps, slut," Brad demanded. "Over there in the cupboard, you stupid slut," Brad heavily pointed out.

Opening one of the many cupboards revealed a range of nasty looking devices. Hollie took a deep breath, trying to maintain her resolve. A pair of nipple clamps with a chain connecting them was retrieved. She quickly trotted over to her master, in an attempt to keep him happy.

The springs were strong and bit fiercely onto her nipples. The pain left her whimpering. Her breasts were turning a dark shade of red. The nipples were growing large, engorged, elongated, and painful. At last they began to numb, dulling the pain. 

Hollie was heated up! She often became overwhelmed from having her nipples played with. She hadn't guessed having them tortured would arouse her up so much.

Brad grabbed the chain, forcing the pet to follow wherever he cared to go. Backed up against a wall, Hollie closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on a faraway place. It was her only escape from pain, humiliation, and the shame of being so aroused.

Startled from her daydream, she looked up. The nipple chain had been attached to a rope and the rope ran through a pulley. He pulled on the rope, lifting Hollies' nipples up, pulling them, extending them, renewing the pain. After awhile the pain subsided into an ache. To her shame, the arousal didn't recede a fraction.

"Shift your feet apart, slut," Brad demanded.

Looking down, Hollie saw him cuffing her ankles and attaching them to wall mounted ringbolts. He did the same to her wrists. He pulled on the rope, hoisting Hollies' nipples higher, until they felt as though they were being pulled off. The loose end of the rope was tied off to another ringbolt. 

Hollie couldn't help squirming and moaning. Being fastened to the wall so firmly there was little she could do to protect her naked body, and with legs spread she was open to cruel abuse.

Brad was rummaging in a cupboard, looking for another device of torture. Hollie watched him walk back towards her. He was carrying weights! The clips on the end were used to attach them to the nipple clamps. A fresh wave of pain splashed over her, heating her breasts as though on fire.

"Please, Master, please don't hurt your slave!" Hollie implored.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 18



"I've not started yet! Calm down pathetic slave-girl," he told her.

Hollie no longer cared what she was called, or what he thought of her. All she could think about was the pain. Again it eventually dulled to an aching throb. This time she watched her torturer bringing over a range of dildo's. With her legs spread so effectively, there was nothing that could be done to avoid their use. She just hoped her bottom would be spared. 

My god! One of them looked so big, surely she wasn't to be ruined with that!

"My your eyes are wide, my little helpless slut," Brad chuckled. "You're an amateur aren't you. You're a kinky bitch just do this for kicks. Have you ever submitted to torture before? If your friends could see you now, they would think you're the dirtiest slut in town," he laughed.

Hollie was tightly fastened to the wall, naked, with her breasts cruelly pulled upward. The weights drew her nipples, elongating them. She wondered if they would ever return to normal. Recently they had become sensitive to touch, and she wondered what they would be like after this.

Brad lubricated a dildo, by wiping it between her legs. Her pussy was running like a tap. It was demoralizing to know how badly she was behaving. Her whole body was on fire with passion. This stranger had her so worked up, she was ready and willing to be abused. She felt the vibrator slide in, far too easily to deny her need. 

He pushed it in deeply, and stood back. Fiddling with a remote control, he looked up and smiled at his dirty whore.

Hollie felt it vibration and wriggling motion in her body. The damn man had control of her sex! He was rich enough to indulge his whims and Hollie had been given to him like a birthday present. It was so demeaning to be treated like an object. She was more like an inanimate doll, the way she was being toyed with. 

More damning was that she was reacting in such a brazen way to the manipulation of her body. She had never been so helpless. Even when caged by Angela there had been some hope of freedom. The young girl had tormented her, but Angela hadn't complete control, as Roger would be taking her safely home.

The painful yelps turned to moans of arousal. She was revealing an orgasm was on the way. Both legs began to tremble, sending little shocks to her nipples whenever the ropes were pulled taught. 

Hollie began to shake in time with the vibrator, synchronizing the pull on her nipples with the throb in her vagina. The man upped the tempo of the vibrator, and her body responded by pulling the ropes and tugging her nipples harder.

It was all too much to fight. She let go a long mournful gasp, sounding like pain, only it was an orgasm of pleasure. Her legs began to give way, threatening to tear her nipples, or at least punish her breasts.

Brad watched the young woman writhing in a world of pain and pleasure. Before she could do herself harm, he grabbed her around the waist. Reaching out to the ropes he loosened them, still having to hold her up, as she flopped lifeless in his arms.

With one arm around her waist, he managed to untie the ropes. Carefully carrying the inert body, he gently laid it on the bed. He kneeled beside her to whisper in an ear.

"That was impressive. You are a worthy slave," he quietly spoke, unsure if she was aware of his words. 

"Thank you master, for letting me cum," she whispered back.

"Do you want me to take you away from here?" he asked.

"Oh! Yes! Please, master," Hollie enthusiastically responded. 

If he paid what she owed, she would be free of that pimp. The relief in her voice showed how grateful she felt.

He massaged her legs, while gently kissing her breasts to sooth away the pain. He smiled at her and tenderly kissed her lips. He got up from the bed, tapped her bare bottom, touched her intimately, and left. 

What if Brad didn't keep his promise? He had paid for a whore, used her, and so why bother to pay more. He was probably leaving right now, no longer interested in her after indulging his whims. Even if he had the decency to honor a promise to a whore, that damn pimp would probably demand too much. 

After all, he was set to make a lot of money during the next few days, from a dirty whore willing to do anything. The thought of whoring while being so helpless to refuse anyone's kinky demands, brought tears to her eyes. Men would pay a lot of money to use a young willing body, so would that nasty guy let her go after a week? The thought of spending the rest of her life as a whore left her sobbing. She screwed up into a ball, sucking her thumb.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Brad and he was speaking softly to her, saying he was taking her away from there. She felt ecstatic. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he cradled her in his arms. He was a big strong man, able to lift her from the bed, and able to look after her.

***

Hollie squatted on the floor at his feet. He had carried her out to his limousine naked, but she didn't care, for she was so happy to be rid of the nasty whorehouse. 

"Thank you master, for taking me away," she gladly chirruped. 

"You'll be happy to know I was testing you, to see how well trained you were, and how compliant. I don't usually torture women. Now you are mine I will look after you, and learn to treat you in a way that pleases you. In return you will learn to pleasure me, your master, understood?" he asked.

"Yes, master, thank you master," Hollie promised. 

She felt like smothering him with kisses, just because he had rescued her. The training as a slave, all that she had learnt from Roger, kept her obediently subservient. Compared to being a whore this was a wonderful prospect. 

"I paid for you, so you belong to me. I bought you as my slave. Do you understand what that means?" he asked.

Hollie knew exactly what he meant. Starting out as a silly naughty game with Roger, the role of slave developed into a way of life. Roger had meant it to be permanent, but she hadn't been ready for such a commitment. Was she ready now?

"Yes, master. Your slave understands," she murmured.

"It's a long term relationship I'm offering you. Once you accept, there will be no turning back. You have a slave collar fixed around your neck. Are you willing to live up to it? Or, would you rather go back to that den of iniquity to play at it?" he asked.

"No! Master! Please accept me as your slave. Master will find his slave well behaved, ready and willing to obey masters every wish," Hollie babbled, with anguish and sincerity.

Anyone could buy a slave collar, even the expensive one she wore, but the pimp was right, she was a trained slave. After testing her compliance to a master it was obvious she was a committed submissive. He wondered who the master was that trained her. As she was so compliant it would be easy, and a pleasure, to mold her to his liking.

"Very well. I'll arrange for a ceremony as soon as I can. In the meantime you will obey my every command diligently. You won't often need clothes, but I need to get my slave something to wear. Is slave hungry? Can slave cook? First things first then," he warmly smiled at her.

Hollie hadn't thought about where he was taking her, just that it was away from the whorehouse. She hadn't planned on committing herself to being his slave either, yet found herself automatically complying. 

While eating and answering his questions, she grew fond of him. He was a nice man, and not the torturer she thought he was. He had a bearing of authority, which she found herself submitting to. Whether she wanted to or not, she was succumbing to his influence, ready to obey him in all things. 

This was what she needed, sometimes yearned for, but were these unnatural feelings something she should give in to? She was a young woman making a career for herself, yet here she was, giving up her life to become a strangers slave. Mentally too exhausted to think clearly she put the doubts aside for later.

Besides, it had been different with Roger. He had been too young to look after her properly. This master had promised to look after her, and he looked the type to honor such a promise. She felt comforted knowing he was capable of carrying it through. The thought of being looked after, of being cared for, and mastered, won her round. 

She soon told him of her experiences of being trained, and the eventual escape. She wrote down her address and where she worked. The school wasn't expecting her back until after the break, so she had a few weeks to reward him for the rescue.

Leaving her to clean the kitchen, he made a couple of phone calls. The apartment would be cleared, with her belongings put into storage. He considered contacting the previous master to get hold of the things he too put into storage, but dismissed it. The slave wouldn't need anything again. He would provide everything she needed.

"Come in, slave," Brad beckoned her. "I have some work to do, so you can do something for me, to ease the burden," he chuckled. 

Pulling away from the desk he made room for her to settle underneath it. The big old fashioned desk had drawers either side, so there was just enough room for his slave to squeeze in. When he was settled, she reached up to the fly to unzip him. 

She didn't need instructions. Hollie massaged his cock in one hand, while fondling his balls in the other. In such small hands his cock looked big. He tore his eyes away from the delight, to try and concentrate on the paperwork. Even if he couldn't, he would pretend.

Hollie wanted to impress her new master. She took her time, playing with him. Fondling and kissing his cock for awhile before sucking on its head. She licked it to smother it with saliva. She needed it wet, so as to slide it down her throat. Not straight away, for she intended to tease it for awhile. 

With a powerful suction she pulled it into her mouth, to roll her tongue around it. Pushing her head forward she felt it touch the back of her throat. A few light pushes upon it, followed by a firm thrust, had it sliding down her throat. 

Under her cyber master's instructions she had practiced this many times before a camera with various objects. A banana, a dildo, and other phallic objects had been used. Hollie was pleased to use these skills for her new masters pleasure. 

Wanting to maximize his pleasure she slowly and assuredly sucked, licked, and swallowed her masters penis. Her hand was gently massaging his balls, when she felt them stiffen. Knowing he was about to cum she quickened the pace, sucking hard. 

With the head of her masters penis gripped between her soft lips, he spurted a load onto her tongue. She pushed her head up between his legs, and opened her mouth to show him the gift. A string of grey pearls adorned her tongue.

"You may swallow, slave," he sighed.

Hollie felt a deep glow of satisfaction from his warm smile, knowing she had pleased her master. 

There was no way Brad would get any work done with this sexy nymph around, so gave up. 

"Come on, let's have an early night. It's your turn for pleasure, for being such a good cock sucker," Brad laughed. 

It would take some time for him to recover, and in the meantime he would get to know his slaves delightful body. She was young and vital, with a satin smooth skin, and a slim figure. What enthralled him was her willingness to comply to his every demand. That alone was worth his attention. He intended to nurture her submission with small punishments, and give big rewards for compliance to his commands. 

It was a pity her delicious body had been marred with piercings to her nipples and pussy lips, but he could live with that. He wondered who had collared her, and given her a slave number. The number was tattooed above her pussy, which was kept smoothly shaved. What kind of fool would let her escape. He certainly wouldn't give her the opportunity, and better still, he wouldn't give her the motivation to run away. He intended to look after her as a good master should.

Hollie awoke from a beam of early morning sunlight striking her eyes. She was fully aware of where she was and what happened last night. She felt alive and free. The pent up need to be mastered had been satisfied, leaving her feeling wonderful. The sex had been slow and deeply satisfying.

She looked up at her master, from where she had fallen asleep at his feet. His chest rose and fell with every deep breath. This man was her master and promised to look after her. She smiled to herself. She knew it was wrong to give in to such base needs, but didn't care. She needed him and he wanted her, that was all that mattered.

Silently slipping from the bed, she made her way to the bathroom to prepare herself for her master. She couldn't help repeating the words, 'her master'. In the kitchen she prepared for when he awoke. Hoping he would demand breakfast soon, she was also aware he needed rest after last night's performance.

Her master had spent time getting to know her body, finding out what turned her on. It was a delightful frustration when all the time she wanted to just do it, while he stroked, kissed, and nibbled, upon every part of her body.

Standing naked in a strangers kitchen, waiting to serve him breakfast and anything else he wanted was all wrong. Yet it was so very delightful. The feelings of submission were hers, but the training helped her find expression to them.

Of course it couldn't be forever. Until she went back to teaching she would throw herself into serving her master, letting him decide everything for her, letting him take responsibility for everything. The feeling of being free of all decisions was a heady emotion, leaving her feeling giddy. She would be a dutiful slave girl, ready to obey his every wish.

Hearing him wake, she rushed to serve her wonderful master.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 19



Chapter 19

A new master for the teacher

"Come on, let's walk back to the embassy," Bill encouraged his mentor. 

"Far safer to get a taxi," Nathanial advised. 

The new chap would soon learn not to take chances. He was still enthralled with the appointment, as it was his first assignment overseas. The alcohol was fuelling Bill's bravado, and affecting Nathanial's better judgement.

"It's a great night to take in the sounds and smells of a foreign land. Call it research, Nathanial," Bill laughed.

It was a quiet and pleasant evening. They moved among a throng of people, hardly noticed among foreign businessmen who were out and about in town, drinking coffee at a street corner, or just taking in the sights. The next block was much quieter, when they strolled along a tree lined boulevard near the embassy.

"There you are, safe and sound," Bill announced, as they walked toward a sentry guarding the gated compound. They stopped to show their Id to the marine.

At that moment a flash of bright light lit the dusk. A wave of hot air, as though a jet engine had suddenly turned their way, blasted them from their feet. All three were slammed against the wall, quicker than thought could process what was happening. Shards of metal from a parked vehicle studded the wall, breaking their bodies into tatters of red flesh. The wall gave way under the blast, covering what was left of them in broken bricks. Dust swirled onward into the supposedly secure compound. 

A marine officer stepped around the corner of the embassy building, on his way to inspect the reported vehicle. He was knocked from his feet and concussed, but relatively unhurt. The dust was settling, blanketing the courtyard in muffled silence. Windows along the facade were cracked, not broken, having been designed to withstand a blast. 

Poor soft human bodies hadn't been so well designed. The three men knew nothing of the explosion, and never would.

***

"Roger. I've got some bad news, are you sitting down? Are you alone?" Roger's father asked.

Roger was feeling pleased with himself until his father phoned. The serious tone of voice left him feeling apprehensive. 

"What is it, what's wrong?" Roger replied, from concern for himself.

"Where's Nathanial's wife and daughter?" he asked.

Roger's hands shook. He was in trouble. What did his father know about them, that had him calling so early in the morning, sounding grave. 

"They're, err, in bed," Roger lied. He couldn't tell his father the two women were tethered in the stables.

"Listen to me carefully. Something's happened to Nathanial. He's been killed. Sorry to tell you like this. You're going to have to look after them longer than you thought. No! Listen to me. The authorities are keeping it quiet. They contacted me as I'm his best friend and a contact. It doesn't matter why," he smoothly added.

"What happened? You said killed!" Roger yelped into the phone, sounding distraught.

"Calm down, Roger. Nathanial and Bill were on government business. Look, don't concern yourself with what they were doing. I need you to keep calm and look after the two women. A week, maybe longer. Can you do that?" he requested, making it sound like an order.

"Yea, OK. What do I tell them?" Roger asked. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Nothing, not yet. I'll keep in touch. The important thing is to keep them away from the press, and prevent them from making a fuss. Can you do that?" he firmly asked for confirmation.

"Sure. I'll tell them he's away longer than planned," Roger suggested.

"OK. He told me you were looking after them while he was away. You just need to carry on awhile longer. Nathanial mentioned Rachael. Is she still there?" he asked.

"Yea, how did you know?" Roger asked.

"She's Bill's wife. He was worried about Bill finding out. He was introducing Bill to his contacts. You had better keep her in the dark too. I know it's a lot to ask. Just do your best, son," he sympathised.

"OK. I will. Don't worry, I'll look after them. There won't be a problem, I promise," Roger stated, trying to sound confident.

After some small talk the phone went dead. 

The time difference in London meant his father was up and busy. As a banker he was involved with financing government business, but Roger hadn't realised it involved dangerous situations. Shit! He hadn't asked if his father was in trouble. A bomb outside a middle east embassy was mentioned. A coincidence his father said. What the hell was going on?

He sat motionless on the edge of the bed wondering what to do. It no longer seemed fun to be looking after three attractive women. He looked at the bedside clock. It was early, though the pony-girls would soon have to be fed and watered. 

His slave Rachael was in the next room, sleeping soundly. How could he carry on with her, when her husband had been killed! Get back into a routine, that was the way to deal with it. Push the awful truth to the back of his mind and keep it from them, until father told him otherwise.

"Wake up slave! Your master needs your help," Roger admonished Rachael.

Rachael yawned loudly. She was about to complain about being woken up so rudely. On opening her eyes the events of last night replaced her agitation with embarrassment. The young hunk staring at her had fucked her hard. He was using her as his sex slave!  

It was humiliating to be treated so badly, yet it was so very arousing and irresistible. Without thinking she automatically jumped out of bed, to kneel at his feet. 

"Sorry master! Your slave is ready to serve you," she sincerely apologised.

In the past such games had been played for just a weekend, with strict rules over how she should be treated. The usual game rules she demanded were void. Nathanial knew who she was, so the threat of her sordid secret being exposed meant she had to submit completely. After a whole week playing the game, the slave role was becoming deeply embedded. 

It meant this young man had her at his mercy. He didn't know her husband was an important man, but Nathanial had made it clear she was to obey Roger, until he returned home. Perhaps that's why she was being woken up so early. It was time to leave. She hoped so. Playing the role of slave was leaving its mark upon her, for it was far too enjoyable.

"Make breakfast, then help me with the pony-girls," Roger ordered.

He watched her scurry off to the bathroom, then left to fill the coffee machine. He needed to keep busy, to avoid thinking about the dire situation. He was responsible for the three women, and would have to take care of them. He could do it. He wouldn't let his father down.

After breakfast Rachael followed her young master to the stables. It didn't look as though she were leaving after all. She noticed he was more self-assured, and seemed sterner with his orders. In response to this she immediately jumped to his commands.

Whereas before his demands had been sexual, he was merely treating her like a slave-girl. It wasn't right for an older married woman to be obeying a young man's orders. She didn't treat her servants at home so offhandedly as he was treating her. She just couldn't bring herself to question him. Her self-assurance had evaporated, leaving her completely submissive to him. 

The pony girls were awake. They snorted and stamped their feet, indicating attention was needed. They slept naked on straw in the disused stables as they had become used to, during the weeks away at training school. As they were so well trained, they could only communicate like ponies. He figured it would be convenient to keep up the training regime, so they didn't ask awkward questions. 

Roger took hold of Bridget's reins, leading her to a drain in the concrete floor. She spread her feet either side of it and let loose. She stood aside to let her daughter take her place. 

Roger had found it amusing to watch the arrogant girl in such a demeaning pose, though not today, as he remotely went through the routine. Angela sighed with relief as she peed down the drain. 

He fitted a nozzle into Bridget's asshole and opened a valve. The warm water gushed into her, leaving her trembling. The pony-girls obviously didn't like this, but had to stand it. He cleaned the nozzle, unable to watch the woman defecate over the drain. Angela was next. She was less able to cope with the intrusion, so he slapped her ass. 

They obediently stood waiting for him to hose them down. Their skin welled up with goose bumps from the cold spray. Their skin was brightly shining, and they shivered, despite the warm weather. He wondered how traumatic the training had been for them to so quickly submit to such indignities.

He fitted the harnesses to their head and led them back to the stalls. Rachael had finished filling their feeding bottles, so they eagerly kneeled to suckle on them. He watched them suck the teats into their mouths, marvelling how deeply they sucked them down their throats. 

The rubber teats were shaped like a penis. Both women had learnt to push right down on them, to kiss a back plate. This released the liquid feed. Needing to breath they pulled back, sucked in air, then plunged down its length for another gulp of liquid. The regular head bobbing was fascinating. 

It was obvious why they were feeding like this. It must have been obvious to them too, when first being taught the demeaning trick. Despite his best intentions, Roger knew he would have to take advantage of this new talent sooner or later. Seeing the bulge in their necks while pressing home, he considered his cock would be a tight fit.

The feed even had the colour and consistency of sperm. The trainer had told him it was a mix of all the nutrients they needed. There was solid food too, which looked like broken dog cookies. Extra treats could be given to them when they carried out tasks in the yard. 

Roger had read the training manual last night, so knew how to put them through their paces. While reading it, he had to send Rachael to a guest room out of the way as she was a distraction. She kept nuzzling him, and playing with his cock. When she slunk below the sheets to suck on his cock, he had to send her out.

"Slave! Go clean and tidy the house. Your master shall inspect your work, so be thorough," he ordered. 

"Yes, master, thank you master," Rachael reluctantly answered. 

At home she had people to do that sort of thing. Having this young man force her into such a lowly position was demeaning. She liked the idea of being inspected. A thrill of anticipation ran through her body, at the prospect of being spanked for misdemeanours.

She didn't seem too pleased about it, and reluctantly shuffled off. She looked back at him and the pony-girls. The look on her face was obvious to read. She thought he would be taking advantage of them, and wondered if he would be capable of satisfying her later.

The two pony girls were standing straight and tall. The high leather boots were shaped into hoofs, and kept their legs straight. A corset was built into the tight leather bodysuit, forcing an upright stance with breasts pushed out. 

The head harness had a short strap clipped to a ring in the small of the back, keeping their heads up. A plume of feathers fixed in the head harness, together with the high heeled boots, left them looking tall and proud. The two pony-girls looked magnificent in the skin tight, shiny leather. 

Roger stood behind them with their reins in one hand. He flicked their bottoms with a whip to start them trotting out to the yard. With each step they lifted their knees high, proudly demonstrating their knew found skills. 

Angela flicked away some spit from around the bit in her mouth, careful not to spray her trainer. She had learnt the hard way not to get back at a trainer. After being whipped she had been given an extra hard training in the paddock, back at the training stables. Since then she had reluctantly obeyed commands more carefully, to avoid a severe punishment. 

Bridget trotted out into the yard with her hip nudging her daughters. It had been silly to think being sent for training had been a cruel mistake. She behaved herself, now that she knew her place, and was proud to show off her pony skills. She felt so calm and content, now that her life had been so strictly defined. Every moment of every day was distilled into a set routine. There were no concerns or thoughts anymore, as she merely had to obey a master.

Roger tied Angela's reins to a post, then attached a long leather rein to her mother's bit.

"Trot, Belle!" he commanded. 

Bridget obediently circled the small arena on the end of a long leash. The bells attached to her nipples rang with every step, as her breasts bounced around. Before she became dizzy he stopped her for a moment, and awkwardly turned her around to trot her in the other direction. 

When she began to up the pace he checked her with a command, and a flick of the whip upon her backside. 

"Good pony-girl, well done, Belle!" Roger encouraged her. 

He was learning as he went along, and very glad he had studied the training manual. The turns were a little awkward, but he was learning. It was amusing seeing this friend of his mothers prancing around under the whip. He was using another of his mothers friends, Rachael, as his sex toy. There were enough distractions to let him forget the bad news.

He forgot the awful death of her husband, while concentrating hard on putting her through her paces.

"Here Belle!" he ordered. Bridget trotted over to him, for a treat. He pushed it into her mouth, passed the bit. She awkwardly swallowed it, then nodded her head best she could, showing gratitude for the morsel and the praise.

He fitted the nozzle of a bottle of water into her mouth and squeezed it. She greedily slurped, hardly spilling a drop. He wiped the water from her face with a towel, and stroked her hair, finger combing it back into place. He wiped down her body with the cool wet towel.

He paid attention to the nipple clamps, making sure they, and the bells, were tightly fastened, so as to avoid injury. His hand traced the curve of her cheeks, which were pulled apart by the leather outfit. A finger pressed into the deep cleft between the cheeks, and pressed her puckered hole. The softness of her sex was too enticing not to sample. He lifted the butt-plug tail to run his fingers over her protruding lips. 

Pinching them and probing them brought on a snorting and nodding of her head. The lips seemed to flower out around the slit in the tight leather at her crotch. Mesmerised by the sight of her engorged sex, he rubbed the hardening clit. The pony pushed her ass at him, and whinnied for more attention.

Her daughter turned toward them and snorted in disgust. She watched her mother being vigorously finger fucked by a boy she had been to school with. As she was tethered, all she could do was stand and watch. Despite her repulsion she could feel a building arousal.

In training they had been stripped naked and abused, yet neither of them received actual sex. Not even a simple manipulation of her sex had been allowed. Angela rocked the tail attached to a butt plug which was deeply embedded in her bottom. It was a poor substitute compared to what her mother was receiving When she wagged the tail it was large enough to vaguely feel tremors against the walls of her vagina.

Bridget let out a yell of satisfaction from an orgasm rippling from her tummy throughout her body. Angela snorted and stamped a foot, from being left out. Damn it! Her excitement was overpowering the shame of letting Roger get the better of her. She wanted a reward too. Determined to prove herself worthy, she prepared to do her best in the arena.

Angela didn't even consider the disadvantage of the way she was dressed. She was a well trained pony-girl, with attitude. Within the confines of the training, she would perform as guided by her trainer.

***

Hollie was settling in with her new master. He was considerate of her needs and looked after her well. Unlike Roger, her previous master, he was experienced enough to find out what she needed. When she misbehaved he spanked her, or put her in a cage to think over her faults. As time went on it became a rare event, as she had become a thoroughly dutiful and obedient slave.

He made sure she experienced humiliation, but didn't involve others in dangerous games. All she had to do was obey him, and leave all decisions to her master. In return she learnt what he liked, and gladly pandered to his whims. 

She was taken out to expensive restaurants and exclusive events where it was safe to wear nothing but a sheath dress. Others eyed her figure, but were too cultured to comment. 

A simple walk in the park became exciting. Wearing a short flared skirt she sat on a blanket reading a book. Absently lifting her knees to support the book, revealed a tiny thong. 

She pretended not to notice an old guy sitting on a bench opposite her. Through the dark sunglasses she stole furtive looks at him, confirming he was watching the skirt ride up. It was tame compared to what Roger had put her through, yet thrilling all the same.

She tugged at the skirt as though trying to cover herself, seeming to unintentionally reveal more of her panties. The old guy was appreciative and smiled at her when she packed up to go. She smiled back, hoping to look innocent of the show put on for his benefit.

Brad was wise enough not to pick young guys to join in on their fun. In various locations Hollie showed off her body, or was placed in awkward situations. He was always close by in case it got out of hand. 

When someone visited she would be allowed to wear a dress, while serving them. Otherwise she spent her time in the house completely naked. Like Roger, her master inspected her shaved pussy. Her master didn't add any more tattoos or piercings. The nipple and pussy rings were kept in place. The slave number just above her pussy looked clear and fresh. 

It was only when Peter, his nephew called that she felt uncomfortable. She thought her master purposely left them alone to see how they got on. The young guy suspected they had an unusual relationship, but didn't ask. After all, she was a beautiful young woman with a much older man, so he was bound to wonder.

As Peter was his only relative, she gritted her teeth to put up with the brash young man, for her masters sake. 

Sitting at his feet under the desk, she was startled from a reverie when he spoke. 

"I've decided you can go back to teaching," Brad announced. 

It was short notice and Hollie was worried. She wanted to, and it would help her recover from the complete submission she had fallen into during the break. Carefully removing his wrinkled penis from her mouth, she meekly spoke.

"Thank you, Master. Do you think I can? I mean . . . it's worrying that I might not be able to teach," she thought out loud. During the few weeks serving him, she had become completely dependent upon his every word. Would she be able to function without him?

"Once you get back into familiar surroundings it will be fine, you'll see," Brad reassured her.

"Yes, Master, whatever you say, master," Hollie dutifully replied.

It was true. In class she kept the students in check, because they thought so highly of her. She didn't have to raise her voice. A smile and kind advice brought the best out of them. They appreciated her for treating them like equals. She spent time and effort helping them improve grades, and in return they looked out for her. The older class warned the younger rowdy elements to behave in her history class. 

Going home to become a slave-girl was incongruous at first, yet she soon found it easy to slip in and out of the role. Her master was understanding when she needed to stay late with a student, to give them extra tuition. For a couple of months life seemed perfect.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 19



Arriving home late, Hollie slipped off the dress and hung it up on the coat rack by the front door. The dress would be to hand if she had to answer the door. She shed the panties, meaning to throw them in the utility room from the kitchen. Hearing her master in the kitchen she walked in to assume a submissive pose. 

"Your slave is home master, ready to serve your every wish," she sincerely said.

"I thought so!" Peter grinned.

Hollie stood motionless for a second, which seemed an age of agony before her limbs would unfreeze. 

"Don't move!" Peter gruffly warned.

She had switched into the role of deferential slave once home. Her arms halted on the move to cover her naked body. Reacting to a command had become so automatic, she just stood there like a statue. The shock numbed her thoughts. 

He got up and walked toward her. He grabbed her shoulders in a firm grip. 

"So this is the game you two play! Is it?" he demanded to know.

"Yes!" she answered, meaning to sound defiant, only it was a meek whisper.

"I'm your masters nephew, so call me, Sir," he challenged.

"Yes, Sir," she obliged. She wanted to implore him to keep their secret. Here in her masters home, she became nothing but a slave-girl, without the slightest need to decide anything at all. 

Peter had his suspicions, from watching them together. She wasn't just demure she was a walk over. He learnt she was a teacher, so decided it must be something to do with their relationship. He hadn't guessed it was such a sordid little game. When she walked in naked and declared her position, it all fell into place. 

"Where's you dress?" he asked. 

"In the hallway, Sir," Hollie stammered. 

"Get it on, we're going. I've been waiting for you," Peter complained.

"But, err, your uncle," Hollie demurely said, tried to resist leaving with him.

"He's in the hospital, that's where we're going," he explained.

She needed no more encouragement. Pulling on the dress she left with him. With her mind in a whirl she didn't even think about panties. So used to being naked at home, and not wearing underwear when out, it was a natural omission. 

"What happened, was it an accident?" she asked. Not wanting to hear the worst, she nevertheless had to ask.

"I don't know. As his next of kin they phoned me," he plainly stated.

Guided to the ward they met a nurse who took Peter to one side. Hollie couldn't explain her relationship with Brad to them, so was left out of the conversation. They assumed she was Peter's girlfriend, and too young to be Brad's partner. Watching them discussing the man she loved was terrible. She felt isolated and helpless.

"He's had a heart attack. We can visit him for a moment, but must let him rest," Peter solemnly recounted.

Peter led her into the room, where Brad lay, connected to pipes and wires. It was difficult getting close to him, with so much equipment surrounding the bed. He looked awful. His face was pale, and he seemed to have shrunk. 

Hollie wanted to snuggle up to him in the bed. At the same time she was frightened of touching him, in case she disturbed the life support machinery. She looked at Peter and gave him a small smile. She was glad he knew what their relationship was, as it would explain how close they were. 

He must have guessed she was in love, for he let her make the first approach. He was giving her precious time with her lovely master. She kissed his forehead, wanting to impart so much feeling in that one small contact. He felt cold. The need to wrap her arms about him, to warm and comfort him, was overpowering. 

His eyes flickered open and he tried to smile through the oxygen mask. His strong voice croaked. 

"Peter! Look after her. Slave! Obey Peter," he managed to utter muffled words.

Peter and Hollie glanced at each another. Peter put an arm around her shoulders, to firmly lock her against his chest. They smiled at Brad, murmuring that he would be alright.

The nurse firmly whispered words at them, "Time's up, come along," she demanded.

Outside the room she informed them both. "He's recovering and needs his rest. Here's a card for the visiting hours. You two run along. Bring an overnight bag tomorrow. Any questions?" she briskly asked.

They shook their heads, not knowing what to ask. The nurse watched the two of them walk away, hand in hand. She slowly shook her head, thinking young lovers had so much to learn about life. She would have been surprised to learn the young girl was a teacher, and shocked to hear she was Brad's kinky lover. 

It was a silent drive home. They were just as quiet while trying to adjust to the strange situation. Peter took the spare bedroom, and indicated she should remain in the master bedroom. 

He was kind enough not to comment on their strange relationship. Picking over a late evening meal their conversation was stilted. Because he was there she kept the dress on, though hadn't even thought to put on underwear. The weekend was going to be a strain for both of them.

Hollie eventually fell asleep, only to be awoken by Peter in the dead of night.

"Quickly throw something on. The hospital phoned. They said I should be there. I think it means he's taken a turn for the worse," Peter nervously spoke.

"He'll be all right. He's a big strong man," she said, trying to console him, and herself.

He drove too fast, though she made no comment, as she too was in a hurry to be by her master's side.

They were too late. The night staff were busy when they entered. A nurse hurried out to them, and ushered them away into a side room to wait for a doctor. Hollie wanted to be with him, to say her farewells. There was so much she wanted to say. She wept desolately on Peter's shoulder. 

A doctor turned up, carried out a perfunctory routine examination, and almost walked away. A nurse pointed at the waiting relative. They were looking out with expectant faces. He walked in with a worried look on his face, obviously not knowing what to say. He murmured something they hardly understood.

A busy nurse ushered them out, explaining to Peter he should return in the morning to complete the necessary paperwork.

They stayed together at the house with a mutual need for comfort. They hardly spoke and only accidently touched. It was enough to carry them through to the funeral. It was a sad affair, with a few acquaintances and neighbours attending.

Everyone treated Hollie as Peters girlfriend. She agreed to the deception before hand, to avoid awkward questions. Even to the point of dressing like a teenager, to enhance the image. 

He was over nineteen, just a couple of years older than her students, yet it was easy to defer to him. In Brad's house she still felt like a slave-girl, and so served him as she normally would her master. Except, she wore a dress, and didn't share a bed.

It was comforting to carry on living the role of slave. Two weeks passed, when she thought of going back to school. She didn't feel ready yet, but soon the realities of life must be faced.

Peter was going through Brad's paperwork, when she took him a cup of coffee. She stood quietly waiting for him to take notice of her, as she would with her master.

"Be careful of the papers," Peter said, and pointed to a corner of the desk. 

"He didn't get around to changing his will. He left everything to me," Peter calmly stated. 

He stared at her, waiting for a reaction. He could see her mind whirring, wondering where she could go, and what she would do without her master.

"In these papers I found out your belongings were put in storage, then sold. He meant to keep you close to him," Peter quietly spoke.

She slowly nodded, acknowledging his words, only now realising she had nothing of her past, and very little for the future. 

"This document is yours, is it not?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," Hollie almost sobbed.

It was her slave ownership book. He had obviously read through it, so he knew all about her past with Roger. He knew she had been purchased from a brothel! All the details of her body, and how it had been used and abused were in there. Even the state of her subservience, and all her foibles were detailed. 

He would know of her need for humiliation, and how it turned her on. He would know that her asshole had been enlarged with a butt plug for a masters use. All the sordid acts she had committed with men and women were in there. It was a diary of debauchery, as well as a declaration of her state of mind, and body.

"That collar you wear is permanent, isn't it," he stated.

"Yes, Sir," she confirmed. She deeply sighed. 

He knew everything now, so there was no need for pretence. She had played the role of slave for so long it had become a way of life. What was to become of her now, was in his hands. He might let her stay on until she could find somewhere, or he might be disgusted enough to throw her out. It was hard to tell what he thought.

She felt like throwing herself at his feet to beg for mercy, like the true slave-girl she had become.

"As I said, I'm the sole beneficiary of the will. Everything Uncle Brad owned, I now own," he said, with her slave book in his hand.

"Every object in this house is now mine. You are one of those objects, which you just confirmed. This document defines you as nothing more than an object. I now own you, slave," he slowly stated, driving home the fact.

She stood quite still. His words were unexpected. They shouldn't have been. It was true that she was a permanent slave. A slave forever. Not just because she had a collar, and had sworn to it, but because she felt it with all her being. For so long she had played at it, and enjoyed it, that there was no going back to a normal life.

"I am your master now, slave. Acknowledge the fact, SLAVE," he demanded.

"Yes, Master," Hollie whispered. The words from her own lips confirmed her capitulation. Her rightful place was at a masters feet. It had been so for such a long time, she knew what was expected of a slave-girl.

She threw off the dress, and glided onto the floor in one well rehearsed move. She sat on her haunches with knees spread, and chest pushed forward. Her hands were upturned upon her knees, with her face turned down in deference to her master. She could sit like this for a long time, contemplating her position of slave-girl.

Hollie had been accidently enslaved by an inexperienced boy. She had been abused by a selfish girl, who had been her mistress for a short time. She had been ensnared by a pimp to become his slave-whore. Purchased by an experienced master, she settled down to a happy life as his obedient slave.

Again she was a young man's object to be toyed with. What he might do with her and to her, she didn't want to contemplate. For such a long time she had been an obedient and submissive slave, that there was no fight left in her. All she could do was submit to the inevitable.

"You're slave awaits her masters bidding, Master," Hollie intoned.

Peter was pleased and surprised with how easily the woman submitted to him. She may be a teacher and much older than him, yet here she was, naked at his feet. Now he had to work out what to do with her. She was a very attractive woman. His cock ached from examining her sexy body, and the state of her submission. 

From the shocking things he read in that slave book, he realised she would provide whatever he wanted, and more.

"Follow me," he whispered, hardly able to speak.

In the master bedroom he stopped removing his clothes. "Undress me slave, your master wants to fuck his slave," he said, with a wavering voice.

Hollie slipped onto the bed, and opened her legs, ready to be taken. She let him help himself to her sex. Given time she might subtly turn him into an accomplished master. If he didn't learn to excite her it would be a dreadful existence. 

As he deeply penetrated her, she pushed up with her hips, to gain the angle she needed. His cock sawed over her soft bud. He was intent on his own satisfaction, not bothering with her needs. She was just a slave-girl to be used.

The humiliation began working on her. She found his rhythm to time her movements with his. It had been a long time since being ridden by a young buck. Like his uncle he had a large cock, and it felt especially big since she hadn't been prepared. She panted from exertion, which turned to gasps of passion.

He was still going strong, forcefully pounding her cunt. She felt he was making her his. He was forcing her to accept the role as his sex-slave. She began to realise how much she missed being utterly humiliated. This young man wouldn't look after her like his uncle. He would play with her, and put her in dangerous situations.

When he cum she felt an orgasm overtake her.

"Oh! Master! Your slave is there. Your slave belongs to her new master!" Hollie whimpered.

"Thank you Master, for a lovely orgasm, Master," she sincerely spoke.

He was falling asleep, unable, or not deigning to reply. She cared not. Sliding down the bed she leaned over his cock and sucked it into her mouth. With care she licked and sucked him clean. Listening to his steady breathing, she lay there with it in her mouth, wanting to be there when he woke.

She thought back over the dire situations she had been put through with Roger. He had been careless with her body and mind, yet it had been exciting. She hoped for a more careful master this time, though a thrill of excitement had her heart pounding. 

She wondered what her fate might be, as nothing more than an object owned by an arrogant young man. She had no doubt he would make full use of her. As a sex object she had no say in how she was to be used, and would have to accept it. 

She sighed deeply with satisfaction, and fell asleep. 



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 20



Chapter 20

Hollie is moved on

Hollie had been used by her new master everyday over the last few weeks. He hadn't concerned himself with what she needed, or even bothered with foreplay. He had callously told her she was a possession, inherited from his uncle like every other object in the house. She resigned herself to being his slave, ready to be used.

Unlike his uncle the young guy didn't treat her with respect, or consider what she wanted in the slightest. Brad had let her keep the teaching post, and looked after her like a treasured possession. Cooking and cleaning his house everyday had been a pleasure, whereas now it was a chore.

Peter hadn't allowed her to go back to teaching, which was painfully missed. He passed to her condolence cards concerning Brad, sent by school staff and her pupils. It served to remind her what she was missing. 

He didn't even take her out of the house for a treat. When the domestic chores had been completed, she served him like a menial servant. When it suited him, she was his sex slave, expected to obey his every desire. She was thankful he had little imagination, so didn't abuse her. He merely screwed her in his bed, then sent her away to a spare room. 

Sometimes the frustration got to her, so she fantasised with memories of past adventures. Most of the time she just got on with the mundane life of a slave. This was different from being a servant because she received no wages, and could never leave him. On top of that, absolute obedience was expected, which she had learnt to give.

She had been a teacher full of promise, looking ahead to a full life. Now she was an unhappy slave, expecting nothing, and sinking into a life of drudgery. She carried out boring domestic duties, ate, slept, and submitted to unsatisfactory sex. 

"I might as well be married," she murmured.

"What did you say?" Peter asked.

"Nothing, master," Hollie promptly answered. She was standing by him waiting to serve. She was naked as usual, though he didn't seem to notice.

"The will has been settled, so now at last I have money. I'm going to throw a party for my friends," he announced. 

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You don't sound enthusiastic. You're going to be a part of the entertainment, so a new outfit is needed. I'll order a French maids dress, something really sexy," he chuckled.

"Thank you, Master," she quietly said.

For the last few nights he hadn't bothered to make use of her. The rest had been welcome, only she began to wonder if it was a bad sign. If he was bored with her it was a very bad sign. She should have encouraged him to be more adventurous in bed, and kept his interest by showing more enthusiasm.

She had been trained over the last two years to be an obedient slave, especially Brad, who was a highly experienced master. It was galling to think this young guy was taking advantage of all that training. She just couldn't break away from it, so had to obey his every command.

Saturday evening arrived too quickly. She examined the new outfit in a mirror and heavily sighed. It was almost decent. The black flared dress would have covered her, except a stiff petticoat held it up around the top of her thighs. Like a ballerinas tutu the white ruffles bounced around with every step.

The suspenders and stocking tops were shown off even when she stood still. Her shapely legs looked elegant in high heels. When she moved, the petticoats swished to reveal her bottom in a thong cutting her cheeks. As she walked the petticoats bounced up to reveal her sex cupped in a little tight triangle of white cotton. 

The low cut of the dress revealed a deep cleavage. She had lost weight recently, after losing her master, Brad. His attention to her breasts had them blossoming, and they were still impressive. Especially so, over a slim waist pinched by a corset.

She straightened the white cap, and apron. The cuffs were pulled around her wrists, and an unnecessary garter griped a leg just above the knee. She was ready to serve at the party. It was obvious what he meant, that she would be a part of the entertainment.

Peter opened the door to his friends as they arrived, letting them help themselves to beers and food laid out on a table in the lounge. The arrangement was for dramatic effect, and it worked. When Hollie walked in the small crowd fell silent. Those with their backs to the kitchen door saw their friends mouths drop, and so turned around to stare. 

A vision of sexuality walked in, straight backed, on high heels, looking elegant. Hollie was proud of herself at that moment. All eyes were on her. It had been a long time since she had much attention at all. Showing off her body had been exciting and fun, even when she had been in jeopardy. Probably more so when in danger from a naughty game going wrong.

Surrounded by her masters friends wasn't as daunting as she thought. Showing off her panties wasn't much of a humiliation, after having played far more dangerous games with Roger, her first master. Even with Brad she played naughty games where she had to reveal herself to strangers, though he was always there to protect her. All this gave her a pleasurable thrill. She glowed with excitement.

The conversation suddenly started up, buzzing with exclamations, and hushed lurid comments. Two of the quick thinking guys sat down on a low sofa, to get a better view up the short bouncy dress. 

Standing before an intense looking young man sitting on the sofa, she leant forward with a tray. He reached up to take a finely cut sandwich. He was so intent upon her breasts the back of his hand stroked one. It was like an electric shock, and he dropped the sandwich in his lap.

The guys sitting behind her loudly laughed at the fine view of her bare bottom.

Peter strode over. "The maid should be spanked for that! Will you do the honours, Will?" Peter crossly spoke.

Before the guy had a chance to stammer a reply, Peter shoved her over his knee. The guy next to him had her bare bottom almost in his face. More astute than his friend, he quickly slapped her bottom. 

The others gathered round to witness the entertainment, elbowing each other out of the way to get a better view. 

"You've hired a stunning whore for the evening, Peter," one of them commented.

"You've got it wrong. She's just a slut that likes to play games," he laughed back. "It's your lap she spilt the sandwiches on, so you get to spank her," Peter pointed out.

Will hesitantly slapped her ass. 

"Harder!" the guys shouted.

Hollie was shocked from the moment she was pushed over the guys knee. At nineteen, they were only just older than her students in class. She had only just walked in and already they were manhandling her. Once they had enough to drink, what would happen then? If they thought she was a whore hired for them, she was in dire trouble.

Hearing her master tell them she enjoyed being a slut was worse. What else would he tell them. She had been right about it being bad if he was bored with her. He might give her to them to play with. She wondered if even that grim degradation would trigger her rebellion. Had she been so well trained to obey, that she would submit to them all?

She felt the slap to her bottom, getting harder with raucous encouragement from the crowd. She couldn't help yelping from the slaps. The young guy seemed sorry for her and stopped. The crowd of unruly youths wanted more, but Peter called them to order.

"Clear up the mess, and go fetch a cloth," Peter demanded. 

Hollie picked up the sandwiches from the floor and sofa. "Sorry, sir," she repeated while doing so.

She scurried off to the kitchen to fetch a cloth as instructed. It would have been a humiliating thing to do, especially for a proud teacher, yet she was thoroughly cowed into the position of a servant. Even a proud slave would have seen it as being beneath her, to toady to a bunch of adolescents. 

She brushed the carpet and sofa, then wiped his jeans. Her bottom was shaking from side to side which captivated those sitting behind her. So used to her position as sex slave, she unthinkingly rubbed his hard cock. She only just stopped herself from undoing the zip to take hold of him.

She looked up into his eyes, ready to apologise. He was looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Fortunately they were all busy talking, mostly about her, and how they would use a sexy maid. She scurried off to the kitchen to escape the young men, and to bring herself under control. 

She hadn't been so aroused in such a long time, and it affected her more than it should have. Before she got into trouble she walked out with a fresh tray. Having been told she was a slut, they looked at her with undisguised lust. As expected they were ready to take liberties after a few drinks.

"What do these taste like?" a guy asked, receiving laughter from his friends. 

Her breasts were balanced on the edge of the tray, looking like an offering. He had a hold of an engorged nipple, pulling on a piercing ring through the dress He was asking her a rude question. In answer she sighed heavily. It was dreadful and exciting. He let her go, after calling her a beautiful slut.

Another guest put his hand on her bottom while selecting a sandwich. He stroked it and ran a fingernail between her cheeks. Much more of this and she would have an orgasm. The first in a long time. The evening moved along with them being increasingly naughty with her body. The bold ones were openly playing with her, to impress their friends. 

So far it was light hearted and not too intrusive. None of them had fingered her pussy, though some had rubbed the little cotton triangle and commented on the rings piercing her lips. It seemed as if all of them had stroked her bare bottom. Some had even pushed at her asshole. What was worse were the coarse comments while they teased her.

"You like a finger up your ass then?" a guy asked, while fingering her asshole.

Her nipples were straining at the dress, showing off the nipple rings, threatening to burst out. Her breathing was deep, heaving her breasts out, deepening the cleavage. 

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir," Hollie murmured. 

As a slave she had been taught to automatically respond. They were impressed with the slut, not knowing she was a helplessly obedient slave. If they wanted to they could simply take her. The thought of submitting to all these young guys was stoking her up.

She hadn't recognised anyone there, so her greatest fear had been alleviated. If one of her students had been there, she would have been devastated. It would have been so bad to have one of her students see her like this. They might have joined in the fun to tease her body, then recognised her. A student suddenly realising he was finger fucking his teacher, would be terrible.

In the kitchen she braced herself over the sink. She needed at least a hand between her legs. Thinking of all those hard young cocks out there was driving her crazy. 

If she hadn't been so well trained she might have bent over a sofa to demand a good fucking. She laughed at the notion. They would be lined up like dogs, waiting to mount the bitch. Calming down she realised if she hadn't been so well trained she wouldn't be in this situation, and certainly wouldn't be letting these young guys treat her like a common slut.

Hollie rummaged around under the sink for soap for the dishwasher. Niles walked in to see her bare ass wiggling up at him. It was too tempting to resist. He grabbed her hips to rub the aching cock in his jeans against her bare bottom.

Hollie jumped, hitting her head against the metal underside of the sink. Her bottom pushed against the intruder feeling a familiar hardness, and she froze. Her master was wearing trousers, so it wasn't him. This was wrong. She was a slave-girl, not permitted to allow anyone to take her, unless her master gave her away. Had he given her body to a friend?

It seemed an age ago since she had been an innocent young teacher, when she would have been outraged by an unwanted approach. Now she had to carefully consider if her master had given permission for this young guy to fuck her. If so, she had to be prepared to let him, in any way he cared to.

His hands groped down her body to reach the top of the dress, and pulled her breasts out. Me mauled her breasts, pinching both nipples and pulling on the nipple rings with strong hands. He had her trapped under the sink, rubbing his cock between the cheeks of her bottom. All that stopped him helping himself to her sex was a thin line of cotton. 

Even if she hadn't been wet from the humiliation of being mauled by the guests, she couldn't stop him. She was too lowly a thing to object. She was just an object to be used. Her opinion didn't count for anything. She was in that house to be used.

She felt whoever it was pull the thong away from her crotch. His cock nudged her asshole! Was he going to take her there? Her previous master had never done that to her. Her tight little ass was still virginal. She wailed at the prospect of a stranger buggering her. The frightened little voice rang in her ears, echoing off the metal sink.

His cock slid over her lips, feeling wet from her sex juices. He squeezed her breasts powerfully, ready to ram home into her. She couldn't help pushing back, to position her gaping hole ready for him. She ached for the feel of a cock filling her body. Like this it was humiliating and so very bad, which fired her up. The passion had her breathing heavily, ready to plead with him to fuck her.

"What's going on here?" Peter shouted.

Niles turned around with his cock bouncing in the air. It was obvious what he intended. Especially with the slave's bare ass sticking up, wavering in the air. It looked like a chick's gaping beak, craving to be fed.

"Come on Peter, don't be like that. I wanted to taste the goods. The slut was up for it, and we'll all have it soon. I just wanted to be the first. Didn't want to have sloppy seconds," Niles complained.

"Not until I'm in the sorority. I told you that was the arrangement," he firmly said. 

Niles patted her bottom, almost affectionately. Certainly with longing. He pushed his cock back into his jeans. 

"Alright, whatever you say," he agreed. He sauntered out of the kitchen, hesitating in the doorway for a look over his shoulder at the bare assed woman. He was looking forward to using her.

Hollie couldn't move. Her master hadn't given the guy permission to fuck her, so she was in trouble. It was terrible to think how much he had her in his power. He had the right to do whatever he wished, even able to decide if she was to be fucked or not. She so desperately needed it!

"Pull yourself together slave," he harshly told her.

Hollie stepped back from under the sink, still stooped over with her bare ass on show. 

"Get that wet cunt covered, and continue serving my friends," Paul demanded.

She felt so shameful it was difficult to breath. She had let herself down, and her master. In the kitchen she carefully adjusted the thong, smoothed down the dress, straightened the cap, and apron. Taking a deep breath she picked up the tray to walk in among her masters guests. 

Knowing they were going to be allowed to take her was terrible. The previous teasing, naughty touches to her body were nothing to one used to so much more. The game had suddenly changed. In trepidation she moved among them, seeing their delight at her presence in a completely different way. 

These strangers were going to become so very familiar, dreadfully familiar with her body. How could she take ten of them one after another. Once the first of them took her they would be worked up in a frenzy of sexual lust, not bothering to wait for her to recover.

The thought of them lining up to take her was frightening. She would have to try and suck some of them off. Maybe even offer her asshole, to save her poor pussy from being hurt. 

It suddenly occurred to her that she had become a horrible slut. Thinking of offering to blow them, and give them her asshole, was so degrading. She had sunk so low as to consider it a plan of action. Why fight it, for there was nothing she could do to prevent them all using her. She was a slave-slut, ready to be used.

The inevitability of it, that the decision was out of her hands, became liberating. The wandering hands were no longer put up with, they were welcome. She glided from man to man, smiling at them, and moaning from their attention. Most of them were nice and considerate. One or two were cruder than the rest, and cruelly pinched her nipples, or nastily rubbed her crotch. She didn't smile or acknowledge those fiends.

The party was breaking up, with taxi's calling. Hollie was bemused, for they hadn't gang banged her as had been imagined. Quickly tidying up she walked into her masters study. Again naked, she awaited his bidding.

"So you met Niles," he stated.

For a moment she wondered who he meant, then remembered him in the kitchen. 

"Yes, master," she said, and blushed. 

"He'll have you soon enough. Once I give you to the fraternity, they all will. I've promised them a slut to play with, and I'm sure you won't let me down. I can't leave you here while I'm in university, and can't keep you in student accommodation. So this is the only alternative. You'll live in the frat house, serving them as you have me. You'll be the fraternity whore," he harshly spoke. 

Hollie blanched at the idea. Her mind went blank for a moment. A small thought crept in, that some of her students might join the fraternity when they graduated to college. They would be able to use their teacher like a dirty, slutty whore. No! She wouldn't be like one, she would be nothing more or less than a dirty whore.

"There's a lot of members, so you'll be kept busy," he smirked.

Hollie remembered her earlier strategy for survival and shuddered. Kept busy would mean using all her holes. There could be fifty young guys keen to use her. Her mind was in a whirl. It would have been better to have stayed with that pimp, as his slave-whore.

"Master?" Hollie whimpered. 

"You may speak, slave," he shrugged.

"Master could sell his slave. Masters slave is valuable," Hollie only just managed to speak.

It was the only thing she could think of. His mind had been made up, yet she could see he was thinking about it. He was keen on money, and was shown to be slow to spend it.

"How?" he asked.

"In an auction. Or, on the internet. Masters sell their slaves, sometimes," Hollie lamely said.

"I'll think it over," he said, and dismissed her. 

Hollie hoped and prayed her master would consider the request. The thought of so many callous adolescents fucking her in every hole was horrifying. There was no way she could disobey her master, as this evening proved. She had been prepare to take on them all, when she thought her master had arranged it.

Escaping as a runaway slave was difficult. She had no clothes and nowhere to go. Even so, it would have to be planned for, in case he decided to give her away. She would have to try to get back to that dreadful pimp. The state she had been reduced to meant she couldn't fight for her freedom. It was impossible to refuse her master's commands. It just couldn't be contemplated.

A few days passed and as usual she was standing in her masters study, ready to serve. 

"Assume the position, slave," Peter said.

The casual tone of voice emphasised her lowly position more than a harsh demand. She got onto the floor, with legs spread, wondering what he would do to her. Without a word of warning he took hold of both arms and handcuffed them behind her back.

She looked up at him wondering why. She was a compliant slave, so there was no reason to force her into anything at all. He pushed her face down onto the floor, and shackled her. Pulling her feet up she was locked into a hog-tie position. 




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 20



She wanted to shout and struggle, only just holding back the impulse.

He pulled her mouth open, and she compliantly let him gag her. A blindfold completed her physical subjugation. Was he at last revealing a wild side? Was this what he wanted to do to her all along? He pulled her slowly along the carpet so as not to burn her naked flesh.

She felt something around her, then realised he was pushing her into a box. He tipped it up so she lay on her stomach. Unable to see, she felt the box being closed. She was trapped inside. It wouldn't take much to lose control in a frightful panic attack. Instead she took a deep breath, then quietly sobbed.

He had decided her fate! Not taking a chance that she might fight his decision, he had her bound and packaged. She was to be given away to become a frat house whore-slave. She would have to learn to put up with callous young men using her as a sex slave. 

Hollie couldn't control the tears. They flowed from her, not just for the dire future, she cried over his treatment during the past few weeks. His casual, indifferent use of her had been so hurtful. Now this! It was too much to contend with. She lay there thinking over all that she had been through, only to end up like this. She was nothing more than an object to be used and abused, then given away to a bunch of adolescents.

The box was manhandled into a van, and she was driven away.

***

Roger settled into a routine, as the women also did. They had been told their husbands were missing and wouldn't be coming back, so he was looking after them. 

He tried to explain the difficult situation, only half understanding it himself. His father explained that the security agency the husbands worked for, wanted to keep their deaths from the public, and therefore the media. 

Rachael was naturally upset. She at first wanted to go home, then relented. Fortunately she had become used to being his slave, and sunk deeper into the role, submersing herself into it as a way of relieving the grief.

Bridget's husband owned the house they were staying in. She no longer had a say in what went on in her own house, as she was an obedient pony-girl. The thorough training she received worked upon her already submissive personality. She returned to the house and accepted living in the stables as a well behaved pony-girl. 

She too had been upset when Roger said her husband had been killed. Far less so than Rachael. She had snorted and stamped a foot, wanting to be taken out to the training ring. Roger worked her hard making her trot and gallop to exhaustion. He had worked out that she was making mistakes so that he would use the whip on her. For some reason she felt guilty and needed to be punished.

Both women felt guilty over the slight pleasure they felt to be free of inattentive husbands. He warmly reassured them, and did all he could to help them through a difficult time. 

Angela had wailed and made a scene on hearing her father wasn't coming back. It was more natural and understandable. She didn't want to continue with the days training, and rejected being a pony-girl. This rejection had been expected and was late in coming. Roger didn't know what to do with her. How to console her was another problem. 

After a few weeks Angela was still withdrawn and difficult to deal with. The morning exercise routine had been completed, and both Bridget and her daughter were brought back to the stable. They were tethered to a post ready to be stripped of the pony-girl outfits, for a wash and rub down.

Bridget bent forward looking back at Roger. She whinnied, trying to gain his attention. The shiny black leather fit her like a sheath. The split at the crotch was gaping, from the way she stood. She rang the little bells attached to her nipples, as though summoning a maid. It was attention she wanted, of a different kind.

Roger playfully slapped her rump, and fed her a treat from his palm. She adroitly sucked it passed the bit in her mouth. He pressed up close behind her, feeling her push against him. She snorted and nodded her head. There was nothing she could do to help herself, as her arms were tightly strapped up her back. All she could do was push her bottom out as an offering to him.

There was no need for foreplay. He pushed into her, feeling her vagina tighten upon his cock. This was not for his pleasure, it was to keep her contented. She needed a good fucking and it was his duty to look after her. He knew she liked long, slow, hard strokes, with occasional lifts to rub her clit. 

She was still wearing the nipples clamps so he kept his hands away from her breasts, as it would be too painful. She enjoyed having them massaged, but not today.

The whining and moaning was the sign he was waiting for. He thrust in deep and very slowly. Holding her up on tip toe with his cock deeply imbedded in her body, she shivered from an orgasm. He was still impressed with how strongly she gripped his cock. 

She complained when he moved, thinking he was withdrawing from her. Teasing only, he slowly travelled back up inside, to fill her up, all the time feeling inner muscles spasm. The rippling tightness almost made him cum. 

He reminded himself Rachael was waiting for him, and Angela too might need him. As a master he had a responsibility to care for his slaves. As much as they cared for his needs, he had to keep them in line, as well as satisfy their needs. It was a hard job, but someone had to do it. The thought made him chuckle. Having so much self-control left him feeling powerful. He had three women under his control, keeping them as obedient slaves. 

Angela looked at the two of them and snorted in disgust. She hadn't been a submissive, and was preparing to be a mistress in her father's house. Giving in to the horrendous training had been excruciating for her, though she recognised why her mother enjoyed it. Watching this young guy screwing her mother was abysmal. 

He removed Bridget's pony boots, and peeled off the outfit together with the rest of the gear. He rubbed down her aching muscles, while she stood enjoying the massage. He hosed her down over a drain cut into the concrete floor. She gratefully retired to her stall to lay in the straw. A mid morning doze after a good orgasm was welcome.

Angela was glad to have her arms free, and flexed them to get the circulation back. She objected to being kept as a pony-girl, yet the harsh training still kept her in line. Occasionally she tried to rebel, but Roger made sure she obeyed him by using a whip, and by demanding obedience. 

He was still trying to work out what to do with her. She wasn't a submissive person, so it was a torture for her to be kept like this. The depression over her father had pushed aside the expected rebellion, delaying it for awhile.

Angela was naked, and tethered to a post waiting to be hosed down. Roger massaged her aching limbs, which was needed after the demanding work out. Without the bit in her mouth she could at least speak. It was difficult to work her mouth after enduring a bit for so long. She had hardly spoken at all since being trained.

"Roger," she quietly said.

He stopped rubbing her down, wondering if she would at last open up to him. He wanted to share her hurt, to make it more bearable.

"You were a friend in college," she said.

"Hardly. You were a first class bitch," he said, and regretted the harsh statement.

"I was," she sighed. "I meant, I guess, we were in the same classes sometimes. Now your fucking my mother," she said, sounding confused.

"Go on," he said, encourage her to speak her thoughts.

"It's not right," she explained.

"It's what she needs. I'm trying to look after you both. It's important to keep you both, I don't know, just to keep things going for awhile," he said.

"Don't say it's for the best. This was my home. You're keeping us as a pony-girl's in the stable," she complained.

"Your mother was a slave, and still is. She's happy enough," he told her.

"Yes, I see that. She has a young guy to fuck her and no responsibilities. Especially now she's just a stupid pony-girl," Angela bitterly said.

Roger continued to massage her arms, while listening for clues on what to do with her.

"Admittedly mom gave father a hard time. She was supposed to be his slave, yet she ran circles round him, even playing around with a waiter. It's ironic! Now she's running around an exercise yard, playing at being a pony-girl. She's still got a young guy fucking her. It's no wonder she looks contended," Angela bitterly mused.

He began to massage her breasts, noticing she didn't object. 

"Did you know my father wanted us to hook up together?" she asked.

"Yes," Roger conceded, not mentioning it was for his father's financial support.

"Stop doing that. I'm not a slave! You can't just use me," she quietly said.

"You are a slave. My father paid off your fathers debts. Now I own you both, and have to decide what to do with you," Roger heavily stated.

"No!" Angela whispered. 

She knew someone had helped her father out of a difficulty, but didn't know it was Roger's father. She understood all about the underground slave trade as her father had bought her mother. It was illegal, yet the arrangements were honoured by wealthy and powerful men. If this was true, she was destined for a very different life than she had expected.

"I could keep you as a pony-girl, or sell you on," he suggested.

"Please!" she uttered in alarm. Her worst fears were confirmed. Instead of taking on the role of a mistress in this house, she had become a slave. Worse than that, she was a trained pony-girl.

"Please what?" he asked, hoping she would have an alternate suggestion.

"Please, Master," she pleaded. 

She missed what he meant, thinking he wanted her to acknowledge her position. The idea that he would keep her in this demeaning role, or even sell her, was frightening.

"I'm your master, so accept it," he forcefully said.

His cock nudged her bare ass, and slid between her cheeks. The cleft was tight and deep. She could have fought him off, yet continued to accept his manipulation of her breasts, and the unwelcome presence of his cock. He pushed forward with his hips, guiding his cock deeper between her cheeks.

Angela froze, unable to speak, while wanting to tell him to stop. Was he going to prove his mastery over her by buggering her? She didn't want that. She would give in to a decent screwing, but not that. It occurred to her that she was wet and ready for him. Surely it was wrong. She had watched him fuck her mother, so couldn't accept him as a lover. Worse than that, he was going to fuck her as his slave!

Her breathing was becoming ragged. She was trying to pull away from him, with ineffectual moves, not trying very hard. He rocked his cock over her lips, slowly moving his hips back and forth. Squashing her against the rail, she pressed back at him. To a small extent she was imitating her mother, though less provocatively. 

He awkwardly bent his knees and pushed upward, to impale her. 

"No! Please master," she squealed. This shouldn't be happening at all, not with a fellow student who was fucking her mother. She was a mistress not a sex-slave!

With him rising up inside her so deeply, she had to stand on tiptoe. His cock was still slick with her mother's cum! He was sawing into her, raising her on tiptoe with every deep penetration. 

"Yes, master, fuck your slave," Angela implored him. She needed this, and abandoned ideas of how wrong it was. It felt right and was so very satisfying. 

"Oh! Yes! Yes, master," she wailed. 

Bridget sleepily looked up from the stall, wondering what all the fuss was about. She saw her daughter tethered to a rail, with Roger slamming into her. He was pounding away at her with strong leg muscles bulging. She watched her daughter become still, and their master push upward, lifting her up. Her daughter was squirming on the end of his cock. 

Angela looked happy and Bridget hoped the feeling would last. Knowing her daughter had been unhappy, and unable to do anything about it had been awkward. She could see Roger was trying to be a good master in difficult circumstances, and just hoped it would all work out. 

She tried to be an example by being well behaved. The rewards were clear to see, as their master fucked her and treated her so well. Perhaps Angela would now buckle down to being a good pony-girl.

Roger bedded Angela down in her stall. He would check on Rachael, then return to feed them both. Rachael had staff to look after her house and garden, so she was ill prepared to be a maid. Cooking from a recipe book was slow. Even dusting had its disasters, when she broke an expensive vase.

Roger had spanked her, and sent her to bed without a reward that evening. She obviously enjoyed the spanking, but didn't appreciate being sent to a spare room without him. She enjoyed sleeping at her master's feet. When she had achieved something he cuddled her until falling asleep. In the morning he awoke to find her between his legs, suckling his cock.

Waking up with a hard-on meant he had to stop her from sucking him off. He had to pace himself if he was to satisfy the two of them. Though now Angela was ready to accept him, he had three slaves to ration his energy between. Rachael was sure to complain if he missed her out.

Rachael came bounding in, wearing just an apron. "Master, how may I serve you?" she gushed. 

He looked her over, almost hoping she had done something wrong. "Have you been a good slave this morning?" he asked.

The casual gesture of his hand was responded to immediately. She sank to the floor in a submissive pose.

"Yes, Master," Rachael quietly said. 

It was still humiliating to be treated so offhandedly by a young guy. He was nineteen, and had been a social inferior. Though with her husband gone, maybe she no longer was superior in a social sense. Certainly not superior in this situation, as she was his slave. The slave game had meant to be a week of fun, though she had been stuck here for some weeks. It looked as though it would be for a lot longer. 

What was surprising is how deeply she had accepted him as her master. The sex was wonderful. He took care to find out what excited her, and only pushed the limits a little more than she would have normally endured. That he had mastered her was undoubtedly true. She was even smitten with him, which drove her into trying hard to make him happy.

"So I don't need to spank you today?" he teased.

"If it would please Master, slave is happy to be spanked, master," she smiled back, then remembered to dip her head in respect to his authority. 

"Good girl, your master is pleased with his slave," Roger smiled back at her. It was a good job he had saved himself for her. She looked as though she were on fire. 

"What have you been up to?" he asked, suspecting something was exciting her.

"Your slave has cooked her master a pizza. One made from scratch, not frozen," she boasted.

"Well done! Is it ready?" he eagerly asked. 

"Yes, master. May your little insignificant slave girl serve Master?" she eagerly asked. 

"Sure. I'll come into the kitchen for lunch," he said.

She certainly wasn't little or insignificant. She was as tall as him in high heels. She had an hour glass figure, though not overweight. Rachael was older than him by fifteen years yet looked magnificent. 

The pizza was not the best he had ever tasted, but much better than the frozen food delivered, or served in restaurants. 

"Your master wants his slave dressed tonight, understood?" he demanded.

"Oh! Thank you master," Rachael gushed. She knew what that meant. She was to wear a little red dress with stockings and high heels. Her master had bought it for her when she managed to work out how the washer worked. More to the point, it exciting him when she wore it. He was sure to perform extra well for her tonight. She hummed to herself while tidying the kitchen.

While she was busy he went to the study. News on the embassy bombing hadn't mentioned their husbands demise, or even that diplomats had been near the scene. He soon gave up the search for information. 

There was a WEB site of interest that traded in slaves. It was well protected and he was only able to gain access using Nathanial's identity. There were a few slaves for sale, and another section listing slave registration numbers. Bridget had a slave number tattooed just above her labia. She was listed with a few details, but nothing to identify who she was, or where she was.

He looked up another number. Hollie was there too. He reminisced for a moment, wondering how she was and who she was with. He hoped she was well, and regretted not looking after her well enough. He was making up for previous inexperience by doing his best for these three slaves.

He would have to register Angela and Rachael. Then they could be tattooed with the number as tradition dictated. 

Rachel kept her crotch well shaved. He and Rachel had to shave the two pony-girls each morning before harnessing them. Their arms and hands were regaining strength now back home, as they weren't constantly bound in the arm sleeves. They were still too weak to take a chance making them shave.

He noticed a red mark against Hollies' number and wondered what that meant. Rachael walked in looking impatient. He would have to take a closer look at the WEB site later.

"Good slave-girl. You have the pony-girls feed bottles ready," he commented.

They entered the stables to find both pony-girls eagerly waiting for them. They were soon hooked up to the feeders, and sucking strongly on their lunch bottles. Roger looked at them, wondering when he might take advantage of this attractive looking skill. He still hadn't had time.

There was always something to do in the house or gardens. The stables too needed keeping clean. A gardener came in three times a week and cleaned the stables on a Wednesday. The pony girls had to be brought in before he arrived to clean them. They were locked in the utility room while he was there. 

He watched them sucking on the phallic teats. They swallowed them down their throats to push their lips against a lever, which delivered a splash of nutrient into their stomachs. Up and down the cock shaped teat they rocked their heads, looking very erotic. The bobbing heads were sometimes in synchronisation, though not today.

He had to save himself for Rachael tonight. Next time she made a mistake he would send her to the spare room, and take advantage of this appealing skill. The thought of Angela's mother bobbing her head up and down the length of his cock, giving him a powerful deep throat experience, was interesting. 

All three women noticed his erection and became agitated. Even Angela was closely watching him. Not with the angry eyes this time. When they were unhooked from the feeders they were given a rest for an hour. Another exercise period this afternoon to keep them fit, then free time until the next feed. Later they were bedded down for the night, and he could at last rest for the evening. 

Rachael had finished her chores for the evening, so was allowed to curl up in the desk well to rest at his feet. She was expecting a reward this evening, so was behaving especially attentive to her master's needs. 

Roger registered Rachael and Angela as slaves, and received numbers for them. He looked again at Hollies' number and description. There was a red symbol against her number. He wondered if it meant she was a runaway, or set free. Before he could check Rachael laid her head in his lap, purring like a kitten.

"Alright, slave-girl. Go get changed," he relented. 

He shut down the computer and prepared himself. 

She wobbled in on red high heels, wearing the figure hugging sheath of a dress. It was low cut with a short hem, pulled tight under her cheeks. The red suspender belts were on show, holding up sheer stockings. The stockings had a hint of red, with a red seam up the back.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 20



Rachael wore expensive designer dresses to society balls, charity events, and official government events entertaining foreign dignitaries. Dressed as a whore for this young man was both humiliating and exciting. She was standing before him, buzzing with sexual tension. 

She could see she had his full attention. He was looking her over, deciding what to do with her. She was prepared to do anything her master cared to demand. However demeaning and disgusting, she would submit to his demands. She needed to feel his cock inside her, so hoped he would eventually fuck her.

If it meant he wanted to use her mouth or asshole, so be it. Just so long as he eventually filled her vagina with cum, she would be happy.

"Bend over the sofa," he demanded.

The sound of his voice was deep and masterful, sending a thrill of anticipation through her entire body. She couldn't make her usual pose in the heels, but this was near enough.

"You're not wearing panties," he said.

For a moment she didn't know if she was in trouble, or not. She desperately tried to remember what her master had told her. Hearing him approach made her tremble. She forget everything to concentrate, and anticipate what he wanted.

"Naughty girl, forgetting your panties, and showing off your lovely ass," Roger commented. He slapped her full rounded bottom, enjoying her little yelps.

Her master was teasing her! He wasn't displeased at all. Her heart began to beat faster.

"Sorry, Master. Your slave will try harder to please her master," Rachael pleasantly sighed.

There was no need to pull the dress up. Leaning over the sofa had pulled it around her hips, revealing a bare ass. He lightly slapped her a few more times, cupping his hand for an effective clapping sound without hurting too much. 

She was enjoying the sting and humiliation. A young guy was spanking her bare bottom, which was so delightfully inappropriate. She could feel her pussy juicing again. It had earlier, when getting dressed for him. If she wasn't careful the stocking tops would be glistening with her sex juices.

"Open your legs, slave. Wider!" he demanded.

She shuffled her feet apart, careful not to twist an ankle. At last he told her to kick them off. He must be ready to mount his bitch! She quivered from the build-up of passion.

She felt his hand rub soothing balm on her cheeks. They weren't sore enough for that, and guessed what he intended. Feeling his fingers rub the grease into her bottom confirmed her fears. 

His cock nudged her asshole, pressing firmly and persistently. She felt the head squeeze in, and gasped. Her sphincter gripped it tight before she could relax. She was an obedient slave and must give in to her master, so tried hard to loosen up. 

He felt her open up to him and pushed in a little more. Eventually his cock was buried deep into her ass. His balls pressed against her soaking wet lips and stuck there for a moment before he pulled back. Another firmer penetration was pushed home. He held her pinned to the sofa. She was breathing heavily, not enjoying his use of her ass, but accepting it, as it was her duty.

It felt so tight he wouldn't be able to hold on for very long. He pulled back slowly, prolonging the feel of the tight grip. Unable to resist he began to piston in and out of her. 

She silently wailed with anguish from knowing he was going to use her bottom. She wanted her master to fill her pussy with cum, not this.

He jerked his cock tight into her ass, pushing hard, flattening her cheeks with his thighs. He held it deep, while spurting strings of cum up her ass. Finished with his slave he withdrew a shrinking cock from her asshole.

Rachael moaned softly from disappointment. She lay bent double over the back of the sofa. 

He lay back on the thick deep pile of the carpet. "Clean me up, slave," he commanded.

In anticipation she had wet wipes and towels ready. She carefully attended to his flaccid member, stroking it with wipes and towelling him dry. She cleaned her thighs, which were sticky with her own anticipatory juices. She poked a wipe up her ass, to soak up some of master's cum that was about to leak from her asshole.

"Get me ready, slave," he casually said.

Rachael almost pounced upon him. Her master wasn't finished with her yet! Would he fulfil her hopes, or just use her mouth? If he cum in her mouth it would be alright, but she really did need a good fucking. 

With hands and lips she worked upon her little master. She sucked him into her mouth, and fondled his balls. Feeling him beginning to grow was exciting. 

She wished she could please her master by sucking him down her throat. She gagged so badly she dare not try. At least he hadn't insisted she learn to do it. It saddened her to watch him admiring the pony-girls, sucking those feeding tubes down their throats. She really wished she could please him that way.

She sucked his growing cock into her mouth, just short of the back of her throat. She didn't want to highlight her inability by choking. Twisting her tongue around the wonderful cock, feeling it growing big excited her. 

She had missed what her master said, from being so absorbed. His cock sprang from her mouth to bounce upright. 

"Sorry master, please tell me what to do," she said.

"I said, help yourself, slave," he repeated.

"Oh! Master! Thank you, master," she cried. Unsure what do next she kissed the head of her masters cock in gratitude. She could fuck herself on master's cock! Which way was she to do it?

She straddled his legs, careful not to kick him , and lowered herself, facing her master. 

"Thank you master," she whispered, and sat on his cock to feel it penetrate her.

This is where she needed it, and it was wonderful to have the opportunity to ride her now very big master. She pushed down slowly revelling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against the walls of her vagina. It was all the way in, and it felt so very good to be full. Knowing he would take a long time to cum, she took her time, enjoying every slow journey up and down his cock.

He reached up to stroke her breasts, with palms gently rubbing her nipples. He wondered if he should have them pierced. A private visit to a friend's tattoo parlour was needed to have her slave number permanently imprinted on her. While there both Rachael and Angela should have their nipples pierced. 

He watched her screwed up face knowing she was nearly there, so he began to work her breasts harder. He pinched the nipples and squeezed her breasts. One hand went down between them to rub her clit. Her heavy breathing turned to panting. She moaned and cried out, suddenly stopping with his cock imbedded deep inside. 

The evident ecstatic look on her face brought him to an orgasm. He jerked his hips to bounce her breasts around. It was a short lived movement. They both heavily exhaled sounds of satisfaction, and she fell into his arms. He held her tight against his chest, with her head next to his.

"You are a wonderful slave-girl. Your master is so very pleases with his lovely slave. He is going to brand you with his ownership number," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes! Oh yes, master. Your slave-girl is all yours, master," she cried out. The orgasm was still alive and kicking throughout her body, influencing her feelings. There wasn't a trace of humiliation from submitting to this young guy as her master. With intense feelings and a body trembling with passion, she would submit to anything.

Roger sighed with happiness. He had two willing slaves, ready to serve him. All he had to do was figure out what to do with Angela. She wasn't a natural submissive like the other two. Should he dominate and train her until she too submitted? 

He had promised his father to keep them safe and out of the way, until the situation with their husbands had been finalised. That included Angela, so he had to do something about her rebelliousness. 

He thought about Hollie, his teacher, and what had been learnt about training her. His teacher had been made into a slave-girl, so surely he could tame Angela.



Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 21



Chapter 21

Hollie is rescued

Hollie was stiff from being trussed up in a hogtie position for a couple of hours. Having been trained to hold a slave position for long periods, she was able to relax her muscles to avoid cramp, as though in a yoga position. She let her mind drift, to avoid thinking of this awful predicament. 

The ride in the back of the vehicle had been long and tiring. There were no clues as to where she had been delivered, and the box muffled sounds. Wearing a blindfold left her more sensitive to noise, though wherever she was it was deathly quiet. It could be the fraternity house, or anywhere at all.

The silence may mean her master hadn't given her away to a fraternity house. Or, it may mean the college students were all in class, or still asleep. As a lone slave it was difficult to keep track of the day of the week. It might be Sunday, or midweek, she had no idea.

It was difficult to know how long she had been in the box. The dark silence was overpowering. The only thing keeping her close to reality was the pain in her limbs. A slight shift of her weight eased aching muscles. Even if she had been given away to a fraternity house to become a sex-slave, it would be a welcome relief to be freed from the crate.

The young guys would obviously use her to the full, and an obedient well trained slave-girl couldn't refuse them anything. She would have no choice except to pander to their every whim, however demeaning. The nasty thought of someone recognizing her came to mind. 

One of her previous students might be a member of the fraternity. That would be hard to bear. Kneeling before a familiar student ready to suck his cock, while he leered at her, was a horrible image. How much more demanding would an ex-student be, when he had a teacher at his mercy, prepared to perform the most disgusting sexual acts.

The demeaning thoughts were difficult to shake off, as her imagination became driven by sexual arousal.

***

"You're not my teacher any more, slave, I'm the one telling YOU what to do. Understood?" Philip told her.

Why did it have to be him? He was the most arrogant young man in her class last year. He often pushed the boundaries, so she had to keep him in line with all the authority of her position as his teacher. Now her position was on her knees before him, and he intended to make her suffer. 

"Get a move on, teacher, or do I need to cane you?" he said, with a nasty grin.

"Yes, sir, I mean as you wish sir," Hollie meekly replied.

He brandished an old fashioned cane before her eyes, and laughed. "This is so much fun, and it can only get better," he gloated.

"Slave teacher may kiss my sack. Go ahead, enjoy," he encouraged.

Hollie hated being reminded that she had been his teacher, especially after coming to terms with being a humble slave. It hurt to think that last year she had been teaching this eighteen year old, and now she had fallen so low as to be his slave-girl. As a mature woman she should be respected, and as a teacher her demands should be complied with. Now she was the one obeying this unruly teen. 

"Suck it all in. Remember, if you bite you'll be caned," he warned her.

She felt a tap of the cane on her bare rump. Although his balls were stuffed into her mouth she managed to lick and suck them. She knew he wasn't going to orgasm like this, and hoped he would get tired of it. She needed to work hard on him to make him cum, so that he would let her go. If she made him cum too quickly, he would punish her with the cane.

"Start relaxing your asshole, salve-girl. I've decided to take your ass. Your cunt is still sticky from fucking the other fraternity guys," he derided her.

Nothing could be said to rebuff the insult, even if her mouth were not gagged by his balls. It was true that her cunt was leaking sperm. A few of the guys had dropped by to check the notice board. They had found her cleaning up after the frat party, and decided to use her. They hadn't been rough, it was just that there had been six of them, and they all used her cunt.

"That's enough! Turn around," Philip ordered. 

Obediently she maneuvered before him on hands and knees. She lifted her ass up, offering it to him. It was a bit of a relief that he wouldn't be fucking her cunt, as it was still sore from the frat guys using it. Her asshole was hardly used, though it was still gaping from when she stretched it with a butt plug for them. 

She felt him snuggling up to her, with his thighs pressing against hers. His hard cock barged between her cheeks. He rubbed it over her asshole for awhile, as though teasing her. There was hardly anything that would embarrass her now, not after being used by the entire fraternity. During the month she had been there, all one-hundred of them had used her at least once.

It was only Philip that continued to humiliate her. The rest of the young guys had settled down to simply using her. The novelty of having a teacher as their slave had worn off. She still didn't have any clothes, so had to keep inside the frat house; not that she was ever allowed out. She felt his cock ease into her asshole, and was relieved it was painless.

He began to ride her. Her breath quickened from arousal. 

"You're a dirty slut, teacher. What are you?" Philip demanded.

"I'm a dirty slut, teacher-slave," Hollie whimpered. 

She was so aroused and gasping for breath, it was difficult to speak. It was important to be aware of what he said, in case he expected her to do, or say something. It meant she couldn't relax or let go, even though she was so close to an orgasm. She felt the cane stroke her ass and groaned. It was from arousal more than pain. He continued to ride her, harder and harder.

***

She shook her head to clear the images from her mind. Spit dribbled from the gag. The humiliation of being in such a helpless position stoked her up. Her pussy ran with sexual juices. There was little chance of an orgasm without touching her pussy, even if she dared to cum without a masters permission. 

After being on the edge of an orgasm for such a long time her pussy ached. Every muscle ached, as did her head, and back. 

Hollie stopped moving, and cocked her head to one side, thinking she heard something. There it was again, closer. Footsteps on wooden floorboards. They creaked under the weight of a person. The sound of the crate being opened was loud and all pervasive in the confines of the box. It swamped her senses after being so alone, for so long.

She was no longer so sure about being set free. It was necessary as she was desperate for a pee. What her fate might be was frightening. It knocked the building passion away as though being slapped. The box was open! She could feel cool air on her bare flesh. Nothing was said. No exclamations of surprise, or glee. This was a small clue to what was happening, only her mind was in such turmoil it was missed.

The cuffs were removed, and her aching arms flopped loosely to her sides. Whoever it was rubbed her arms to bring them back to life. They started on her legs, bringing relief and pain, from being so tightly shackled.

Eventually they lifted her up from the box, holding her upright. With help she stepped out of it to feel bare floorboards under her feet. Her breathing came in loud gasps, as though recovering from a sprint. Not just the effort, but fright brought with it the need to repeatedly heave in lung full's of air.

The gag and blindfold were left on, as she was half carried through the room. The bright sunshine of outside was dimly seen through the blindfold. The warm sun was felt on her naked flesh. This was more freedom than she wanted. The stranger bent her almost double, to shove her onto a back seat, and a soft blanket was thrown over her bare body. She luxuriated to the feeling of stretching out her limbs.

The car door slammed shut, and they were soon on their way. This was a large sedan, with new smelling leather seats. A rich man had bought her. She wasn't destined to be a frat house whore!

Hollie had to accept abandoning her career as a teacher. She even came to terms with the humble position of slave for the rest of her life. Being sold to a stranger should still have been frightening. The relief from not being given away as a frat house whore, overrode the fear. She was pleased to be in the far safer hands of a rich master.

It was a more comfortable ride than before. Eventually the crunch of a gravel driveway was heard, announcing their arrival. Being gently helped from the sedan, and guided into a house was a good sign. The smooth tiles of a hallway were cold under bare feet. Padding into a room with a thick carpet was reassuring. 

The ball gag was removed, and the blindfold unclipped from around her head. 

Hollie looked down at her feet, blinking her eyes to become accustomed to the light. She was on alert for a command from her new master. She wanted to start her new servitude in the right way, by showing submission, and immediate obedience to orders.

From behind her a strong voice spoke. "What do you say, slave?"

"Master, slave is ready to serve," Hollie recited. She trembled ever so slightly, hoping this master would be gentle with her, and have experience enough to look after her.

"Very good, slave. Assume your position," he quietly said.

Hollie nimbly knelt, and squatted on her haunches. She laid her hands palm up on both knees, with head bowed. She managed to straighten her back to force her breasts out. Her knees were almost spread sideways, to show off her shaven sex. Whoever he was, it was now his pussy, as all the rest of her body was. The thought should have been abhorrent to her, but she was a well trained slave. She was ready to submit not only her body, but her mind as well.

"Your master is pleased with his slave," he said. 

There was a hint of a smile in his voice. There was also something familiar about it. She wanted to, though dare not look up at him. He walked around her, taking a good look at the object he had purchased. His hand cupped her chin, and pulled it up.

Hollie blinked rapidly. Tears formed in her eyes blurring sight. Had it been a trick of the light? Was she hallucinating? It couldn't be!

"Is my slave-girl pleased to see her master," Roger asked.

"Master!" Hollie yelled. She fell at his feet and wrapped both arms around his ankles. She held on tight, sobbing uncontrollably.

Roger looked at the woman at his feet, screwed up in a ball crying uncontrollably. This mess was once his teacher. They had played naughty games together until he found she had a natural submissive streak in her character. It had just been a game, seeing how far he could push her into submitting.

Having a teacher submit to his demands had been amusing, and too tempting not to take full advantage. Putting her into humiliating situations excited her, and left her all the more compliant. Eventually she was ready to acquiesce to the ultimate humiliation. She agreed to be his slave.

He now knew how to look after a slave, and take responsibility for its welfare. This once authoritative woman, used to controlling a class of adolescents, was now a humble and compliant slave-girl. He would have to watch over her and keep her safe this time.

"Slave ran away!" Roger heavily stated.

"Your, slave, is, so, sorry, Master," Hollie cried, between sobs. 

"Slave will have to be punished," he said.

"Yes, Master. Anything master. Slave is so glad to be with her true master," she sincerely spoke. 

Roger pulled her hands away from his legs, and pushed her back onto the floor.

"Assume the position, slave," he demanded.

Although tears still streaked her face, she looked comforted when sinking into a familiar pose. She sat on her haunches, with knees spread, palms upward. Her head hung low, and her shoulders shook from intermittent sobs. 

He attached a chain to her collar, pulled one hand up to clip a cuff around a wrist, then the other. She sat back on her bottom to let her master fasten shackles to her ankles. She now wore a full sirik with chains connecting her neck, wrists, ankles and another chain connecting both ankles.

"Say nothing for now, slave. You will be kept here while your master decides how and when to punish you," he quietly spoke. 

All she could do was slightly nod her head in resignation. She accepted the idea of being punished for running away, yet was genuinely pleased to be back with him. Roger clicked his fingers for Rachael to scurry in. 

"Take this bad slave to the kitchen and see to its needs. It will assist you with chores, while it awaits a suitable punishment," Roger said.

Watching the two slaves leave the study, he smiled to himself. Things were looking good. Rachael had signed documents without knowing she had relinquished hers, and her husband's wealth over to him. Bridget had signed over this house and everything she owned. An added bonus was that a pony-girl doesn't go out spending money she didn't have. With the debts paid their finances were now secure. He could not settle down to enjoying the pleasures of using three sex-slaves. When Bridget's daughter returned, he would have four compliant women, ready to serve him.

Rachael helped Hollie up off the floor, and led her away. In the kitchen Hollie sipped a coffee, unable to eat anything. Her stomach was fluttering with nerves, leaving her unable to even look at food.

"What happened to you?" Rachael asked.

"Rachael! You're still here?" Hollie said, not having recognized the woman until she spoke.

"Yes, evidently so," Rachael smiled.

"You were here to play a game for just a week. That was over a year ago," Hollie pointed out.

"Time passes so quickly, was it really that long ago? My husband died in an accident. It's alright, I'm over it now. We had drifted apart anyway. I played my games and lived my own life," Rachael reflect quietly.

"But why are you still here?" Hollie asked. "You're a wealthy woman, why didn't you go home?" Hollie asked.

"Nathanial knew who I was, so I had to obey him in return for keeping my fantasy games a secret. He ordered me to stay here while he was away, and to obey Roger. It was only going to be for a week, but then the accident happened," Rachael said, and shuddered.

"I remember you telling me about Roger, and the dangerous situations he put you in, so I was frightened at first. It was humiliating for a woman my age, and with my social standing, forced to obey such a young man. He used me freely, and I must admit to enjoying it, still do," Rachael defiantly stated. 

Hollie smiled, trying to reassure her they wouldn't be rivals. 

"He took care of me, only too well. Instead of letting me go at the end of the week he kept me here. An extra week, then a month, now a year has passed. It seems I'm a permanent slave now, no longer just playing at it. He's developed into a forceful master, and he's certainly mastered me," Rachael blushed.

"I guess it was easier to stay here, letting Roger take care of me. Now I'm a part of the place, and can't think of being anywhere else," she explained.

"What about Nathanial's wife and daughter? Where are they?" Hollie asked.

"You had a hand in sending them for pony-girl training, didn't you? Don't feel bad about it, I know what a bitch the daughter was. They both came back thoroughly indoctrinated into the role. Bridget is still in the stables. She settled down as a pony-girl and has been there since returning. The master looks after her, and she seems happy enough," Rachael laughed. 

"What about Angela? Is she still a pony-girl?" Hollie asked. If the bitch was back in the house, the girl would give her a hard time. Angela would torment her for fun, and now she had a reason for revenge.

"Her daughter eventually shook off the role. She was becoming more troublesome as the days passed. Eventually she rebelled, about six months ago. Roger sent her away. I don't know where, or what for. I just obey my masters orders," Rachael pointedly spoke.

"Oh! Yes. I will too. I'll be a good, dutiful slave from now on," Hollie earnestly said. "What do you think the punishment will be?" she quietly asked.

"No idea. I suppose the master will have to make sure you don't run away again. Hence the chains you're wearing. I guess it was difficult for you as a teacher, obeying one of your students. Do you think you can do it this time?" Rachael asked.

"Definitely! I've been through a bad time. I've become so submissive I need looking after. Out there anyone can take advantage of me. The master seems stronger, more confident now," Hollie gushed.

"He is. It also means he won't flinch from punishing you, and keeping you in your place. What happened to you? I'd like to know," Rachael asked, while gripping Hollies' hand firmly.

Hollie told her new friend what she had been through. At last she had a strong master to look after her, and a friend to share feelings with.

"You can help me prepare the feed for the pony-girl. I'll take it to the stable, so you can keep out of Roger's way. Besides, you'll slow me up in those shackles," Rachael laughed.

"Later I'll help you prepare for the Master. I'll make you look so beautiful he'll forgive you," Rachael smiled. They both knew it wouldn't work, but it might help.

***

Six months earlier Angela found herself in trouble. 

Angela regretted shouting at Roger as he forcefully tied and gagged her. Before she knew what was happening, she was being bundled into a crate, inside a panel van, that same afternoon. This didn't bode well. Last time this happened she arrived home as a fully trained pony-girl. 

Not as deeply accepting of it as her mother, it had still taken weeks to shake off the intensive training. It still had her breaking out in a cold sweat when she thought about those weeks as a pony-girl. 

Living in the stables was the least of it. Sometimes she began to think of herself as a pony. Especially when dressed up in the ridiculous outfit, and prancing around the exercise yard. Wearing a butt-plug tail up her ass, and having her throat stretched to accommodate a penis, was the ultimate humiliation.

Watching Roger fuck her mother had been awful. Though it had to be admitted, mother enjoyed it. She was probably back there, sucking his cock down her throat. It was that demand for a blow-job that set her off this morning. She had let Roger fuck her, as it was needed occasionally. Sucking on his cock was pushing things too far. 

The van pulled up after bouncing along a rutted track. So! This was it. However horrible a situation that so called master, Roger had arranged, she could withstand it. It couldn't be as bad as the despicable pony-girl training. A submissive like her mother would take to slave training, but she was too tough to break. 

Thinking of Roger screwing her mother in their home, taking care of her as he called it, was despicable. Her father had been an important diplomat, and Roger had been a mere fellow student in college. It was outrageous of him to keep mother and her as slaves. There was no way that impudent young guy was going to enslave her.

A hiss of gas startled her from angry thoughts. She tried to shake off the mist enveloping her mind. She struggled in her bonds, but it was no good, she succumbed to a deep sleep.

Robert tilted the young woman from a crate and looked her over. This one wasn't for sale, as her master wanted her back, fully trained. The instructions for her training were clear. Her current state of rebellion had also been clear. She would cause him little trouble, as he was confident in his training methods. 

He released the cuffs and manacles, then dragged the crate from the cage. Back in the cage he clasped the device around her waist and crotch. A similar device was clasped around her head. Steel cables were attached to the belt and head piece. There was enough slack in the cables to push her into a corner of the cage, and roll her onto the bedding.




Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 21



He examined the new trainee thoroughly. Once satisfied she had been set up for the machine, he stepped out of the cage, and locked the door behind him. A control panel was flipped open to make the settings live. Now all he had to do was let the machine take over.

It had taken a long time to build the machinery. A gradual accumulation of experience and parts was needed, until he had a full working training machine. The hum of idle machinery was a pleasant background noise. In the dark cellar he waited for the machine to wake the trainee.

"Who's there?" Angela shouted. The words were distorted from something in her mouth. She explored it to find some kind of gag was in place. A metal ring fitted behind her lips, forcing them into an 'o' shape. That didn't promise well at all. 

Roger had tried to make her suck him off, and that's when she finally rebelled. He was back there enjoying her mother's throat, while she was here, wherever here was. Something tugged at her and she jumped. 

"Damn!" she murmured.

She felt her crotch to find something there, like a chastity belt. Her hands explored it without making sense of it. Another tug, at her head this time. There were cables running from her body to the bars of the cage. She tried to stand up, otherwise she might be dragged along the floor.

"All right!" she shouted at the empty cage. 

Whoever it was, was pulling her to the bars of the cage. Eventually she was held tight against them. 

"Take notice of what I have to say!" Robert loudly announced. 

He had her attention. She was peering into the dim cellar, looking for where the voice emanated. She spotted him, but couldn't detect anything except an outline in the shadows.

"When a buzzer sounds you will stand up, or be dragged across the floor. The cables will pull you to the correct device. Punishment for disobedience will be as severe as necessary. Rewards will be given for prompt obedience. That's all you have to know for now," Robert informed her.

Angela watched him walk away. "Hey! Stop right there you! Let me out of here!" she shouted. The words were distorted but obvious in their meaning. Even as a heavy door swung shut, she continued shouting. "Come back here. Let me out. Where am I. How long. . ." her rant tailed off after awhile. 

There was no one there to answer her questions. They buzzed through her head turning constantly as her mind whirred in turmoil. "What did he say?" she finally spoke. Her tone of voice was less angry now. Sounding more frightened.

A buzzer sounded and a moment later a cable pulled her crotch closer to the cage. Peering down she watched two cables position her crotch against a pipe. She screamed! The end of the pipe turned, fastening itself to the pipe attached at her crotch.

She frantically pushed and pulled, trying to get the damn thing off. The shiny steel metal had a soft rubber lining. It was wrapped around her crotch and waist like a chastity belt. Digging her heels in, and her hands on the bars, she pushed with all her might. Nothing! She was held to the pipe by her crotch. 

The fear turned to anger. She kicked the bars and hurt the foot, which fueled the anger. Nothing happened, giving her a chance to calm down. She looked around the cage for something to use as a weapon, or tool. There was nothing, and certainly nothing in reach.

Examining the pipe she noticed it split in two. A small one went upward, and a larger one downward. There was a similar device attached to the bars at head height. 

"Oh! Shit!" she murmured. Feeling her mouth again, she discovered a pipe the same size as the one next to her. Wires dangling down from the gag led up to it. 

The whir of an electric motor started up, interrupting the investigation. She felt a slight vibration in the tube connected to her crotch. 

"No! I don't like this!" she yelled.

Water surged into her vagina. She hoped it was water. "Stop it! No! You can't do this to me!" Angela shouted. 

She bit against the gag from anger at being so badly treated. It wasn't painful, it was humiliating. She felt the water being sucked out of her, then a fresh quantity being spurted in. Between the two streams she had let go a long overdue pee. There was nothing she could do but stand there being flushed out. She had never experienced a douche before, and never wanted to again.

At last it was over. 

After a moment or two the familiar vibration was felt. "Damn! You! I'm clean, let me be," she complained. 

"Oh! Shit! Fucking hell!" she yelped.

The water rushed into her bottom this time. She should have expected an enema after a douche. The water was sucked out then fresh water splashed into her ass. Several times she was washed out. Unavoidably she had let go there as well. 

"I'm clean now, you bastard! What's next, feeding time?" she growled.

Her eyes widened in fear as her mouth was drawn to another pipe. The one she had glanced at before was whirring ominously. The cables tightened, drawing her face close to the device attached to the bars. With eyes straining downward, she watched the mechanism turn. It locked her mouth to the tube.

This time she couldn't help guessing what was to happen. Whoever it was pressing the buttons, was about to feed her. 

Having been fed on liquids for the past few months this wasn't going to be a hardship. When she behaved herself, Roger gave her little treats. Something to chew on had been welcome. Having to earn them through obedience had been another humiliation.

She couldn't grit her teeth, though it was possible to grind them on the pipe in her mouth. At least this time she didn't have to push a feeding pipe down her throat to get the food. Having to feed that way was disgusting, as it meant she had practiced a deep throat technique several times a day. No wonder Roger was enjoying her mother's throat, for she was now an expert.

Angela felt the vibration of something running down the tube. The liquid feed was more tasty than when she had been trained as a pony-girl. It was better to have a full stomach, so she readily swallowed it all down. She could fight him harder with a full belly. She pushed out of her mind that it could have been anything at all being forced down her throat.

The cables connecting her to the devices slacked off, allowing her to move away. She settled down in a corner of the cage, to nestle in the rags meant to be a bed. A plan of sorts was needed. Escape was vital. Being naked it would be easy to hitch a ride. But where to? Back home and Roger? 

Before she realized her eyes flickered and she was dozing fitfully.