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Tracy Goes to the Principal's

By: PogueMahone



"Hello, Mrs. Willows." I say smiling at you as you enter my office, your purse held in your hands as you glance around, seeing the different awards and citations hanging on my wall. A large gold one proclaiming, Principal of the Year 2002, is hung directly behind my desk, the gold letters seeming to form a halo behind my head as I sit down. "I'm glad you could make it today, I know it was hard for you to get away from work but I think it was necessary." I say with a smile as I motion towards the chair in front of my desk. "Please have a seat."

"What did you want to see me about, Mr. Cash?" You ask as you sit in the hard wooden chair, crossing your legs demurely as you set your purse on the edge of my desk. "Your secretary said it was urgent. My kids aren't... they aren't in any trouble, are they?"

"No, at least not yet, Mrs. Willows." I tell you reassuringly, leaning forward to rest my hands on my desk, my eyes running quickly over your bare legs below your dark skirt. "Your son however has been running with a rough crowd," I tell you, "and we had a bit of an incident yesterday."

"What did he do?" You ask worriedly. "Was it serious?"

"Well, we have no proof your son committed the act but we have suspicion to believe he was involved. And it's very serious, Mrs. Willows, if we had proof we'd be calling the police."

"What... what do you want from me?" you ask as you reach for your purse. Not paying attention to where your hand is you knock your purse over, spilling the contents all over my floor. Swearing softly to yourself you slide out of your chair, squatting down on the floor as you try to gather up your scattered belongings.

"Well, Mrs. Willows," I start to say as I stand up and move around to lean against the front of my desk, looking down at you as you squat in front of me. "I'm going to ask a favor of you in exchange for my silence to the police." I tell you as my eyes admire the smooth skin of your thighs, your dark skirt hiked up on your legs as you begin to pick up your belongings and push them into your purse.

"What sort of favor?" You ask as you reach behind you slightly to pick up your lipstick that has rolled across the floor, the motion causing your thighs to spread slightly wider forcing your skirt higher on your legs. I can now see the white cotton crotch of your panties as you continue to focus on cleaning up your purse, unaware that you are inadvertently exposing yourself to me. "Mr. Cash? What sort of a favor?" You ask again, curious as to why I haven't answered you glance up at me, your eyes following my gaze to your exposed panties. "Mr. Cash?" You ask again, your face flushing in embarrassment as you look away, avoiding my gaze.

"You are a very attractive woman, Tracy." I tell you softly, smiling as you make no motion to close your legs. "I noticed you first at the PTA meeting last month and I've been waiting to get to know you more ever since." I tell you; stepping closer to you I kneel down so that our knees are almost touching. "I've been waiting for an opportunity just like this." I almost whisper to you as my hands rest lightly on your knees, pushing them outwards spreading your legs wider, forcing your skirt up until it is bunched around your waist exposing all of your white French cut panties. 

"Please..." You say in a small voice as you turn your head farther from me, your hair falling down to cover your face as you feel my gaze on your conservative underwear.

"You don't want your son arrested do you, Mrs. Willows?" I ask as my eyes trace the contour of your pussy through your panties. "It would ruin his future," I tell you as my hand moves up to cup your chin, turning your face so that you are looking at me. "We wouldn't want that would we, Tracy?" I ask smiling at you as my other hand glides up your leg, my fingers running along the lace at the leg of your panties.

"Please, Mr. Cash..." You start to plead with me, your eyes large and filled with shame as my fingers slide along the soft cotton fabric, running gently over the mound of your pussy as you tremble under my touch.

"Shhh, Mrs. Willows." I hush you as my hand moves down, cupping your sex in the palm of my hand, gently squeezing your pussy through your panties. My forefinger and ring finger move to outer edges of your pussy, my middle finger curving slightly as I run my fingertip along the cleft of your pussy, pushing the soft cotton between the tight lips of your cunt. "You don't want to endanger your son's future do you?" 

You bite your lip, trying to turn your head away from my penetrating gaze as I continue to stroke you through your underwear. My hand falls from holding your chin to rest on your shoulder, massaging you through the dark blazer you are wearing.

"Stand up, Mrs. Willows." I instruct you, standing up, my hand in your crotch almost lifting you to your feet. "Turn around, Tracy," I tell you softly pointing behind you with one hand. You glance in the indicated direction, your cheeks flushing a bright crimson as your eyes fall on the full length mirror hanging on the back of the door. Your eyes run over your reflection, your dark skirt still hiked up over your hips exposing your light blue panties.

"Please, Mr. Cash..." You plead softly, turning your head from the embarrassing image of yourself in the mirror.

"Look at yourself, Mrs. Willows." I command you gently as I step up behind you, my hand cupping your chin and turning your head back towards the mirror. "I want you to watch this," I tell you, my voice a soft whisper in your ear as I press my body tight against yours. You tremble in shame as you see the two of us together in the mirror, my hand dropping from your face to slide down the lapel of your blazer. You inhale sharply as my hand slides lightly over the mound of your breast, your back arching slightly.

"You enjoy this, don't you, Tracy?" I ask, my fingers slowly unbuttoning your blazer one button at a time, your eyes focusing on my fingers in the mirror. "You like having a man take control of you, of your body and using it for his pleasure. Isn't that right, Mrs. Willows?"

"No... I'm married... please..." You gasp, your body trembling as my fingers push your blazer open, my hand sliding across the soft silk of your blouse. You gasp, your stomach seeming to convulse as my fingers move to the bottom button of your blouse, undoing it quickly. "Please, Mr. Cash..." You almost sob as my fingers spread your blouse open, exposing a small portion of your soft stomach, my fingertips just grazing your skin as my hand moves up to the next button. You can't take your eyes from my hand as I slowly undo each button of your blouse, my fingers sliding up until just the top button remains, your blouse gaping open to reveal brief glimpses of your stomach and bra. "Please, I'm married..." You protest weakly as my fingers undo the last button of your blouse, trying to turn your head away despite my hand on your chin holding it in place.

"I know you're married, Mrs. Willows." I breathe in your ear as my fingers spread your blouse open to reveal your breasts encased in the light blue bra. "That's what makes you so desirable; you are someone's wife and mother." My hand trails lightly over your bare stomach, tracing small designs on your soft skin. "You are a respected business woman with a good family, Tracy," I whisper in your ear as my hand slides up to cover one of your breasts, "and that's why I'm going to make you my personal fuck toy." I chuckle as you gasp at my words, your face flushing in renewed embarrassment as my fingers rub against the hard nugget of your nipple.

"Please don't, Mr. Cash..." You beg as my hand roughly fondles your heaving breast, your eyes never leaving the mirror, watching the reflection of my hand as my finger pulls the cup of your bra aside exposing your nipple to the chill air in my office. "Oh.... Don't..." 

"You look like a slut, Mrs. Willows." I say with a nasty laugh as I look at your reflection in the mirror, your blouse and blazer open to expose your bra while your skirt is hiked up over your hips. Your light blue panties are pressed deep into your pussy, displaying the cleft of your sex as my hand toys with your hard nipple. "You look like you are begging to be fucked, Tracy, dressed like this. You're a slut aren't you?"

"No..." You shake your head slightly, ashamed of the way your body is displayed as my words echo hotly in your mind. "I'm a good wife and mother," You say, "not a... not a slut." You almost whisper the last word, embarrassed to even say it.

"I don't believe you, Mrs. Willows." I tell you, my hand leaving your breast to slide down your stomach to rest on your skirt, my fingers just brushing against the soft mound of your pussy. "I think you're a slut, and I'm going to prove it." My hand slides across the front of your panties, feeling the heat radiating out from between your legs. "Squat down and spread your legs, Tracy." I instruct you, smiling as you wordlessly obey me. Your position causes your panties to stretch tight across your crotch, the thin cotton displaying almost every detail of your pussy as you look at yourself in the mirror. 

"This is so humiliating," you say almost to yourself as I kneel behind you, my body pressed tight against yours, my chin resting on your shoulder. "Please stop, Mr. Cash."

"I don't think so, Mrs. Willows." I tell you, smiling at the image of the two of us reflected in the mirror. "I want to see something first," I say as my hand sliding along one of your bare thighs, caressing the soft flesh. As my hand nears your crotch I release your chin from my other hand, dropping it to your knee as I slowly spread your legs wider. 

You inhale sharply, feeling the muscles in your legs stretch as your legs are spread as wide as possible, as your eyes fall on the sight of your panties stretched taut over your pussy. My fingers slide down your leg, running over the lace edge of your panties as you watch my hands intently, seeing them slowly nearing your pussy. "Oh." You gasp softly in embarrassment as my fingers curve, gripping the crotch of your panties and pull them aside to expose your puffy nether lips. You bite your lip as you start to turn your head away, embarrassed at the open display of your most intimate area.

"Don't look away, Mrs. Willows." I instruct you softly, shifting my weight slightly so that you can feel the hardness of my erection pressing against your ass through my pants. "I want you to see your pussy. I want you to inspect your slutty little cunt as it betrays you, Tracy."

"What do you mean... betray?" You ask looking back at the mirror almost against your will, seeing my hand slide over the bare lips of your sex, my light touch sending shivers through your body.

"You deny being a slut, Mrs. Willows, but your body betrays you. It makes a lie of your words," I tell you, my fingers running over the smooth skin, tracing the contours of your pussy. "Your pussy knows you're a slut," I chuckle as my fingers spread your labia to expose the bright pink inner flesh glistening with your juices. "You see, Tracy, your slutty pussy knows it's about to be fucked. You are flooded down here," I tell you as my hand caresses your spread pussy. "Only a true slut would be this wet," I tell you as I hold my hand up in front of your face, my fingers glistening with moisture.

"I'm... I'm not a slut." You deny, almost sobbing in shame as you see your pussy juice shining on my hands. "I'm a respected woman. I'm a good mother." You say, although you're not sure who you're trying to convince more, me or yourself.

"Of course you are, Mrs. Willows." I say with a smile as I stand up, my hand sliding out of your crotch as your panties fall back to cover your flooded pussy. "I want you to go around my desk and lean over it." I instruct you, my hand caressing your leg as you stand and silently follow my directions. Standing in front of my chair you bend from the waist, your hands flat against the dark wood as your hips rest against the edge of the desk. "Hmm, very good, Tracy." I tell you as I move behind you, sitting down in my large leather chair and pulling it up close behind you. My hands rest lightly on your thighs, caressing your toned flesh for a few seconds before I start to lift your skirt, hiking it up over your hips to expose your ass to my hungry gaze. "Very good," I murmur in approval as I admire your rounded ass in your panties as you bend over my desk, your face red in shame. My hands slide over your ass, roughly caressing and squeezing the soft flesh before my hand slides down between your spread legs. My fingers find and trace along your pussy lips, my thumb brushing against the hard little nugget of your clit as I lean down, my face close to your panty covered crotch. My nose is pressed against the cotton as I inhale your most personal scent. "Mmm, your pussy even smells good, Tracy." I compliment, knowing that my words only serve to embarrass you further. "I can't wait to taste it," I chuckle as my tongue stretches out to lick the length of your cunt, pushing the fabric of your panties between your pussy lips with the tip of my tongue. I continue to lick you, my thumb still circling around your hard clit as my other hand gently slaps your soft ass, not hard enough to hurt but the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills my quiet office.

"You are a good mother, aren't you Tracy?" I ask as my fingers grip the saliva wet crotch of your panties, pulling it aside to expose the bare lips of your pussy to my lecherous gaze. "Sacrificing your body for your son's future," I tell you as my tongue licks lightly along your pussy, teasing you with the tip of my tongue for a few seconds before spreading your pussy open with two fingers and licking the soft pink inner flesh. My tongue licks the length of your pussy, circling the tight opening of your vagina for a few seconds as my fingers continue to stroke your erect clit.

"God, you taste good, Mrs. Willows." I announce as I lift my lips from your pussy, your juices coating my mouth as I stand up. "Turn over, Tracy, and sit up." 

You slowly roll over, your face red as you try to avoid my gaze. You move around until you are sitting on the edge of my desk, your legs spread wide as I sit between your knees. Your head is bowed slightly, your long blonde hair falling down around your face as my hands reach up and gently push your blouse and blazer down off your shoulders, leaving you sitting there in only your light blue bra, skirt and panties. "You're a good little fuck toy, aren't you, Mrs. Willows?" I ask as my hands slide down off your shoulders, tracing the straps of your bra down to the rounded globes of your breasts.

"I'm... I'm not a..." You start to refuse only to be silenced as I press my mouth hard against yours, kissing your forcefully, my tongue forcing it's way between your lips as you try to push me away. Your hands press against my chest as you suddenly realize that you can taste yourself on my lips, your own pussy juice coating your mouth as I kiss you.

"Yes, you are." I say with a smile when I finally release you again. You look at me in astonishment as I sit back down, pulling my chair closer to the desk so that my face is close to your panty covered pussy. You don't want to look but you can't turn your head away as I lean forward, my tongue reaching out to lick along the mound of your pussy. I feel you tremble at the contact, my saliva darkening the light blue cotton as I lick you again and again, a soft moan escaping you as my hands fall to your thighs. My hand falls to the back of your right knee, lifting you leg as you lean back to keep your balance, your arms stretched out behind you on the desk as I raise your leg higher. My tongue licks along the backside of your thigh, up to your knee and back down before resuming my lapping at your pussy.

"Oh, god..." You whimper softly as I hold one leg high over your head, my mouth busy in your crotch, my other hand moving up to pull the wet panties aside as my tongue lavishes attention on your bare pussy lips. My nose is pressed firmly against your neatly trimmed bush as my mouth sucks, nibbles, and licks at your married cunt filling the office with embarrassingly loud wet slurping sounds. "Please..." You pant as your body betrays you, lifting your other leg up and wrapping it around my shoulders, pulling me closer, holding my mouth to your hot sex. "Oh, Mr. Cash!!" You scream as the building lust overwhelms you, pushing you over the edge into a crashing climax.

Your body goes stiff for a few seconds; your eyes squeezed shut as your breath comes in hot little gasps. You slump to the desk, your leg releasing its hold on my shoulders as you lay back completely spent. Raising my head from your crotch I smile at the sight of you laying across my desk, your hair plastered to your forehead by a faint sheen of sweat as you slowly open your eyes and look down at me.

"Did you enjoy that Mrs. Willows, did you enjoy being used like the slut you are?" I ask as I stand up, my hand moving to the fly of my pants. You watch me silently as I unhook my pants, reaching in to pull out my painfully erect cock. "Are you my fuck toy, Tracy?" I ask as I rest one hand on your spread thigh.

"Ye...Yes," you answer hesitantly, your gaze fixed on the swollen head of my cock, your tongue licking your lips as you trace the thick veins of my hard manhood. "I'm your slut, Mr. Cash. I'm your personal fuck toy."

"Good, Mrs. Willows. I'm glad to hear that." I say as I position myself between your legs, the underside of my cock resting lightly on your moist slit, the large head resting on your pubic hair. "Whose pussy is this?" I ask, my fingers rubbing against the swollen lips of your cunt. "Who does this pussy belong to, Mrs. Willows?"

"That pussy, like the rest of your fuck toy, belongs only to you," You answer, thrusting your hips up towards my hard cock. "Please use it as you wish," You say, your eyes fixed on mine, "Please, Master."

"Only because my slut asked so nicely," I say as I move my hips, my cock sliding between the lips of your pussy, the head resting against the tight opening of your vagina. "Does anyone else get to use my fuck toy's pussy?" I ask as I slowly thrust my hips forward, sliding my cock into you an inch at a time until I'm completely buried in the warm wet flesh of your pussy.

"Only you..." You pant, your hips gyrating against mine as I fill you completely, "No one else."

"Does your husband? Does John get to enjoy my fuck toy's pussy?" I ask as I start to fuck you slowly with long strokes.

"No. My pussy is only for you," You gasp, your hands coming up to pull my face down to yours, kissing me passionately, your tongue darting into my mouth as I continue to fuck your hot married cunt.

"That's right, my little slut." I moan when the kiss finally ends. "Turn over on your stomach, Tracy." I tell you as I pull my cock out of your tight pussy.

"Yes, master." You respond with a slight pout as your pussy suddenly feels empty without my cock buried in it. You roll over, your breasts pressed against the cold hard surface of my desk as you feel my hands sliding over the soft globes of your ass. 

"Look in the mirror, Tracy." I whisper to you as I lean over you, the head of my cock poised at the entrance to your pussy. "Watch as I fuck my slut's pussy."

"Oh, god, fuck me. Fuck your nasty little slut's cunt." You breathe watching in the mirror as I thrust forward, my cock sliding deep into you again. All other words are lost in a symphony of grunts and groans as we fuck, the only other sound being the slapping of flesh hitting together as I pound into you. It doesn't take long for us both to reach orgasm, my cock bucking deep in your pussy as I shoot ribbon after ribbon of sticky cum, painting your womb with my seed.

"That was good, Mrs. Willows." I tell you after we have both had a chance to recover. I'm sitting in my chair while you are lying across my desk, your legs splayed wide as I watch a thin rivulet of semen leaking out of your well fucked pussy. "I'll expect you tomorrow at the same time." I tell you with a laugh as I get up and walk out my office.

Tracy Goes to the Principal's Ch. 02



"Come in, Mrs. Willows." I call out as I hear a knock on my office door. Glancing at my watch I see that you are late, you should have been here fifteen minutes ago if you had been following my instructions from the day before.

You enter hesitantly, looking around the office, trying to look at anything but me as I sit behind my desk. I look you over as you approach me, you are wearing an outfit very similar to the one you had on yesterday. The blazer and skirt are a few shades lighter blue and your blouse is a creamy silk. The skirt seems shorter, exposing more of your shapely legs to my view as you stand in front of me, shifting your feet like a nervous student. "Mr. Cash," you start to say, your voice soft and your eyes refusing to meet mine, "I..."

"You're late." I interrupt, "I told you to be here fifteen minutes ago, slut. I expect you to obey me." I tell you as I stand up, moving over to stand in front of you. "I thought I made that clear yesterday."

"About yesterday, Mr. Cash..." You say, raising your face to mine for the first time, your voice sounding stronger. "I... I'm going to tell the police that you... you raped me." You announce stumbling over the words even as you feel your face flush in embarrassment as you remember the events of the previous day.

"Did I now?" I chuckle, stepping close to you, my hand cupping your chin as you try to turn your face away from mine. "I fucked you, Mrs. Willows and you enjoyed it. You got off on being treated like the slut you are and now you're ashamed of it and you want me to be punished for making you realize the truth about yourself."

"That's... that's not true." You deny, the strength leaving your voice. "You... you raped me."

"Turn around, Tracy." I tell you, my hand releasing your chin to rest lightly on your shoulder.

"Please don't..." You almost beg in a small voice as you turn around, seeing yourself in the mirror, my grinning face over your right shoulder. "Please..." You gasp as my hands slide down off your shoulder, sliding across the fabric of your blazer to cup your breasts as you watch the two of us in mirror.

"Squat down, Mrs. Willows," I whisper softly in your ear as my hands slide over your stomach, unbuttoning your blazer.

"I... I can't..." You protest even as you bend down, your knees tight together as you squat down in front of me. Your hand pulls at the hem of your skirt, trying to get it down to cover your knees as you watch my face carefully. 

"Very good, Tracy," I encourage you as you lower yourself to the floor, my hand sliding up your front until they are resting on your shoulders. My fingers slide through your hair, combing your thick blonde hair as my fingertips lightly caress the soft skin of your cheeks. "Very good indeed, my dear." I whisper softly as I bend down behind you, my hands gripping your blazer and pushing it down off your shoulders. You let it slide down your arms to lay on the floor behind you as I press myself close to your back, my face pressed into your hair. 

You shiver slightly as you feel my breath on your neck, my nose filling with the scent of your shampoo as my arms encircle your waist, pulling you tight against me until you can feel my arousal through my pants. "You smell lovely, Mrs. Willows. Almost good enough to eat," I compliment you as my tongue stretches out to lick along the side of your neck, smiling at the memory of eating you out the previous day. The sudden blush and embarrassed expression tell me you are recounting the same thing as my hands slide over your thighs, tracing along your skirt until my palms rest on your bare knees. "Now let's see what kind of panties you're wearing today, shall we?" I ask you, my lips brushing against your earlobe as I watch your expression in the mirror. Your eyes drop to watch my hands as I slowly push your knees outward, spreading your thighs inch by slow inch, forcing your skirt to hike slowly up your legs. "What kind of panties are you wearing today, Mrs. Willows?" 

"Please, no..." You start to protest, your eyes watching as your legs are inexorably spread, knowing that in a few seconds I'll be looking at your most intimate areas again. "Just cotton panties," you tell me in a rush, thinking that it'll somehow stop me, that telling me will halt the humiliating spread of your legs. 

"Tell me more, Tracy." I say, smiling as my hands stop pressing on your knees, not forcing them open but holding them in position so that you can't close them either. "Tell me about your underwear, my little slut."

"I'm wearing French cut cotton panties with... with little flowers on the edges." You tell me, your voice little more then an embarrassed whisper as your cheeks flush a bright crimson color.

"Oh, sounds lovely," I reply, smiling at the pained expression in your eyes, "Let's take a look at them, shall we?" I say with a small chuckle as I spread your legs the rest of the way, your skirt hiking up over your thighs to expose the crotch of your panties to my view. 

"Nooo..." You gasp out as you feel your legs forced open, your gaze unable to leave your crotch as you see the reflection of your panties become visible. 

"Very cute, Tracy," I chuckle as my eyes feast on the crotch of your panties as you hang your head in shame, humiliated at not offering any resistance to my actions. "I like the little flowers, innocent and seductive at the same time. You're wearing light blue panties again, Mrs. Willows. Do you like your panties to be different colors?"

"I... I like blue. I like light blue panties." You confess to me, shuddering as you feel my hands slide down off your knees and along your thighs. "They're my favorite."

"Hmm, I can see why," I murmur softly in your ear, my hands moving up your legs until my hand rest just below your panties, the sides of my fingers brushing against the mound of your sex. "Your pussy looks so cute in your light blue panties, Mrs. Willows. Almost like it's begging to be fucked," I tell you, as my fingers slide lightly across the fabric of your panties. "Is your pussy ready to be fucked, Tracy? Does having me look at your panties get you all wet, Mrs. Willows?"

"No... please," you almost sob as you feel my finger slowly trace along the cleft of your pussy, feeling the moist warmth radiating out of your sex. "I'm... I'm not wet."

"Really, Tracy," I say, feigning shock as my fingers stretch your panties tight over your pussy, showing a dark damp spot on the light blue cotton. "Then I think you might have had an accident because you're panties are wet. If you are not aroused then you pissed yourself," I tell you, my voice filled with laughter as I feel you shudder in my arms. 

"I didn't..." You stammer softly, your blue eyes filled with shame as you feel my fingers continue to stroke along your pussy, the wetness spreading, darkening the crotch of your panties.

"Only one way to find out," I tell you, my finger dipping under the elastic band of your panties, rubbing along the soft lips of your pussy quickly before I raise it up in front of you face. You try to look away as you see the moisture glistening on my fingertip as I hold it in front of your face. "It doesn't smell like you pissed your panties, Mrs. Willows." I tell you with a smile as I hold my finger to my nose, "And it definitely doesn't taste like urine." I say as I lick my finger, tasting your pussy as you tremble in shame. "I think you may actually be enjoying this," I tell you as my hand drops down your crotch again, cupping the entirety of your sex as my finger traces the cleft of your pussy.

"No, I... don't," you gasp as my fingers pull your panties aside, exposing the wet lips of your pussy to the cool air of the office. Your gaze is locked on the mirror, watching as my fingers run along the tight lips of your cunt, spreading them to expose the wet inner flesh. "Ahh," You moan as my finger traces along the soft pink flesh, lightly circling the entrance of your vagina.

"If you don't enjoy this, if you're not aroused by me molesting your married pussy then why are you so wet, Mrs. Willows?" I ask as the tip of my finger just barely enters your vagina, causing your muscles to spasm. "You're a slut, Tracy. You're my slut." I whisper softly in your ear as my finger slides further into your pussy.

"No, I'm married..." You gasp, your eyes closing slightly as my finger caresses the sensitive inner walls of your pussy. "Please, my husband..." 

"Doesn't know what a hot piece of ass you are, Mrs. Willows." I interrupt, finishing the sentence in a way you never would have. "Or else he's a complete jackass. If my wife was as much of a cock hungry slut as you are, I'd never let her out of my site."

"Oh, God, I..." You pant as my finger slips out of your pussy, your eyes seeing your arousal glistening in the dim light of my office.

"Stand up, Tracy." I command you as I do the same, stepping back to lean on the edge of my desk. As you stand up on slightly unsteady legs, your skirt falls down just enough to cover your exposed pussy, leaving most of your shapely legs exposed. I stand behind you, silently admiring your body as you just stare at your reflection in the mirror ashamed and humiliated to be standing there in my power. After a few minutes of silence you turn your head to see me standing behind you, my eyes running hungrily over your slender body. 

"Mr. Cash?" You ask hesitantly, your voice trembling as you brush a lock of your hair away from your face. 

"Call me Sir, Tracy." I tell you, stepping up close behind you, my hands resting on your hips. "Sir or Master, Mrs. Willows, understand?"

"Yes... Sir," You reply, stammering slightly over the title.

"Very good, my little slut," I chuckle, my hand sliding up over your waist, my fingers sliding up under your arms until they are pressed into your armpits. "You'll get used to calling me Master over time." I promise as my hands raise your arms, holding them out to your side so that your wrist and elbow are level with your shoulder. My fingers trace along the length of your outstretched arms, caressing the smooth silk of your blouse until my fingers reach the collar. I start to unbutton your blouse slowly, my fingers spreading your shirt open after each button is undone, exposing the soft skin of your neck before moving down to the soft valley between your breasts. 

"Does your bra match your panties today, Mrs. Willows?" I ask as I undo the button just below your heaving breasts, my fingers sliding into the gaping front of your blouse to gently caress the soft skin. "Tell me about your bra, Tracy."

"It... it matches my panties." You tell me after a brief second of reluctance, your eyes looking at my hands as they rest just below the soft globes of your breasts. "It's a powder blue half cup bra, with... with a small flower between the cups." You tell me in a rush, your face a bright red as you share the intimate details of your lingerie with me.

"Oh, that sounds just too lovely," I say, smiling at the embarrassment in your face, "I've got to see it." My fingers spread your blouse open to reveal your breasts encased in the light blue bra, the soft swells of your breasts seeming to almost overflow the half cups. "Mmm, even better then I pictured in my mind, Mrs. Willows." I murmur softly in your ear as my fingers slide down the valley between your breasts, toying with the small cloth flower nestled there. "You've got lovely breasts for a woman your age, Tracy. What cup size do you take?" I ask as my fingers slide over the rounded flesh above your bra, tracing the edge of your bra with light tickling caresses. "How big are these lovely tits of yours, Mrs. Willows?"

"Please don't, Mr... Sir." You beg, catching yourself before calling by name again. "It's embarrassing." You plead even as you arch your back slightly, forcing more of your breasts into my groping hands.

"Tell me, Tracy." I command, my fingers hooking the cups of your bra, pulling it down so that your breasts pop out. My fingers slide up to rub your nipples, the sensitive flesh hardening and becoming erect under my caresses.

"Thirty... thirty four C." You confess, almost sobbing in shame as my hands cup the mounds of your breasts, squeezing them gently.

"Look in the mirror, Mrs. Willows." I tell you needlessly, your eyes fixed on your reflection, watching my hands as they grope your heaving breasts. "Tell me what you see, Tracy. Describe your lovely tits to me." I whisper in your ear as my fingers trace light circles around your hard nipple.

"Please don't make me do this, Mas... Master." You plead as you stare at my large hands as they roughly fondle your breasts.

"Tell me, Tracy." I hiss in your ear, my fingers pinching the hard nub of your nipple hard.

"Ow!" You gasp out, squirming in my arms as you try to free your nipple from my fingers. "My breasts are..."

"Call them your tits, Mrs. Willows. Respectable women have breasts; sluts like you have tits or jugs." I instruct as I interrupt you.

"Yes, Sir." You submit your voice soft as your eyes watch my fingers slide down off your breasts to quickly undo the last few buttons of your blouse. "My tits," you stammer, blushing at the humiliating task of describing your breasts to me, "are 34 C; they are nicely rounded with only a little bit of sag." 

"Very good, Mrs. Willows." I encourage you, my hands moving with your words, lifting your breasts as if to accentuate your description. "What about your nipples?"

"My nipples..." You gasp as my fingers brush over the sensitive underside of your breasts. "My nipples are large, about a quarter of an inch long when they are erect surrounded by a dark pink aureole that's about as big around as a quarter."

"Are your nipples hard right now?" I ask, my hands sliding up over your breast to rest on your shoulders as you continue to stare at your exposed bosom. 

"Yes, my nipples are hard; they're sticking out from my tits as if begging to be sucked." You admit to me, your voice almost pleading for some sort of release. You are embarrassed by having to tell me the most intimate details of your body but your body is begging for some sort of sexual relief.

"Are you sexually excited by talking about your tits, Mrs. Willows?" I ask you, my hands sliding down to cup your heaving breasts, the fingers spreading wide over the soft flesh. 

"No... It's embarrassing," You say, shaking your head in denial even as your eyes never leave my hands on your exposed breasts. 

"I think you're lying to me, Tracy." I whisper in your ear, my hands sliding down off your breasts to caress your bare stomach. "I bet your pussy is flooded with your juices right now, aren't they? How about it, Mrs. Willows, are your panties soaking wet from your slutty pussy?" I ask you as my fingers slide over the fabric of your skirt, reaching down to grip the hem where it rests halfway down your thighs.

"No, I'm not..." You start to deny, shaking your head slightly as I lift your skirt up over your thighs, your eyes following the hem as I pull it up to reveal the crotch of your light blue panties.

"You're not what, Mrs. Willows? Wet? I think you are," I say, chuckling at the embarrassment in your eyes as I pull your skirt up over your hips to expose the entire front of your panties. "Let's find out how wet your pussy is right now, Tracy. Squat down and spread your legs like before." I instruct you.

"No, please don't make me..." You plead, your eyes flicking up from the reflection of your panties to my face, as it smiles down at you in the mirror. "Please," You repeat softly as you squat down obediently, your legs spreading wide to reveal the moisture darkened crotch of your panties.

"Hmm, well, I think I was right about your pussy being flooded, wasn't I, Tracy?" I ask in a smug tone of voice as your eyes are drawn to your exposed panties. "Tell me what you see, Mrs. Willows. Describe your panties and pussy to me."

You are silent for a few seconds, your gaze fixed on the wet spot in the center of your panties as you feel your shame at being exposed like this before me. "My panties are light blue, powder blue is the actual name." you tell me in a soft voice, your head bowing forward slightly so your long blonde hair falls in front of your face, hiding your expression from me. "They've got small flowers around the edges and... and a dark wet spot on them." You almost whisper the last part of the description to me.

"Where's the wet spot?" I ask as I bend down behind you, pulling your hair back over your ear to reveal your humiliated expression.

"Over my... pussy." You tell me, your eyes still fixed on your panty covered pussy. "The crotch of my panties is damp, the lips of my pussy visible through the fabric." 

"Tell me about your pussy, Mrs. Willows. Describe your slutty cunt to me." I whisper in your ear as my hand drops down to rest on your thigh, gently massaging the soft flesh of your leg.

"It's... It has been a couple of weeks since I trimmed my pussy," You confess to me as I slide my fingers over the warm wet center of your panties. "I'm not hairy, but my pussy isn't as neat as it usually is."

"Go on, Tracy," I murmur in your ear as my finger slides back and forth along the length of your pussy, "tell me about your slutty married pussy."

"Oh god, this is so embarrassing." You gasp as your hand comes down to cover mine, pressing my finger harder against your pussy. "My outer pussy lips are thin and long and they close tightly. You need to open them totally in order to see the inner side of my pinky private area..." You tell me, your eyes watching my finger as it caresses the damp cotton of your panties, stroking your pussy through your underwear.

"Show me. Show me your tight pussy lips and your private pink area." I whisper in your ear, my hand sliding out from under yours so that your hand is resting on your pussy. "Pull your panties aside, Mrs. Willows, and show me your married pussy."

You moan softly although whether it's in embarrassment or arousal is hard to tell as your fingers pull your panties to one side, exposing the bare lips of your pussy to the mirror. Your hand cups your sex, two fingers running along either side of your tight labia as my hands push your legs wider apart. "Spread your pussy for me, Tracy." I instruct you softly, my lips brushing against your earlobe as I inhale the scent of your hair. "Show me the most private area of your body." 

"Please don't humiliate me more, sir." You plead even as your long fingers slowly spread your thin labia, exposing the coral pink innards of your pussy to my hungry gaze. The pink skin of your cunt glistens with your arousal as your fingers spread it wider, the small opening of your vagina being exposed. 

"You find showing your pussy to me humiliating, Mrs. Willows?" I ask in feigned shock as my hand rests on your bare thighs. "Then I want you to describe your pussy to me, tell me every intimate detail of your cunt, Tracy."

"No...please," You manage to barely gasp out, your dark blue eyes fixed on the soft pink flesh between your fingers. "I... can't." You say, your face showing your embarrassment.

"Tell me." I hiss in your ear as my hands slide down your thighs, my fingers caressing the sides of your hands as you stare at your exposed sex.

"Please...sir." You sob, your eyes never leaving your bared sex as my fingers slide down over your hand, caressing the soft juicy flesh of your pussy. 

"Tell me what I'm doing to your pussy, Tracy." I breathe in your ear as my fingers slide over yours, feeling the golden band on your left hand before my finger feels the warm wet flesh of your sex. 

"Your... your finger is running along the edges of my... my pussy." You say softly, your voice barely audible as you watch my fingers slide over your sex. "I... my little clit is hard when your thumb brushes against it. You're sliding your finger back and forth, teasing my... my vagina." You almost gasp, your hips bucking against my exploring hand as the sensations of pleasure run through your body.




Tracy Goes to the Principal's Ch. 02



"Very good, Mrs. Willows," I whisper in your ear, my lips grazing against your neck as you shiver at my caresses. "Tell me more about your... your cunt." I instruct, choosing the most degrading word I can. "Describe how I am using your married cunt, Tracy."

"Oh..." You moan your mouth parted as you continue to watch my exploring fingers carefully, your pale cheeks red with shame. "You... you toy with the tight opening of my... my vagina. Your finger slides into me, just a little bit.... Not enough to...to satiate me... just teasing me."

"I like that... just teasing you." I chuckle as you shamefacedly describe my every movement, your breath coming in short soft gasps as you watch me fondle and grope at your most intimate area.

"Please... don't make me... tell you... more." You gasp, your eyes watching as my finger curves into your pussy, stroking the soft sensitive inner walls of your vagina.

"Why?" I ask as I slowly start to work a second finger into the tight opening of your pussy. "Why shouldn't I have you describe your needy, slutty pussy to me?"

"It's... it's to embarrassing, sir." You tell me in a soft innocent voice even as you thrust your wet pussy against my invading fingers, seeking to drive them further into you. "I'll do... anything... just don't ask me to tell you what you're doing to my... my cunt."

"All right, then, give me your pussy, Mrs. Willows. Offer the pink insides of your pussy to me, my married slut. I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you give your married cunt to me." I hiss in your ear as my fingers slide out of the tight confines of your vagina, my hands resting on your bare thighs glistening with the wet arousal of your sex.

"Please... Sir, take my pussy." You beg, your hips thrusting out towards the mirror as you spread the thin lips of your labia to expose the coral pink interior to my gaze. "I... give my married... cunt... to you."

"You're giving yourself to me, Tracy?" I ask as my hands slide over the soft skin of your legs. "To do what with?"

"Any... anything you wish... mas...master." You whisper softly, your eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "I... I am yours."

"Hmmm, I like hearing that, Tracy." I murmur my approval in your ear as my hand slides down to cover the center of your sex, feeling the warm humidity of your desire radiating from the soft folds. "Now, prove it to me, my dear."

"H... how?" You ask me, your eyes going wide with concern as you imagine my unspoken commands to prove your submission.

"I want you to stand up," I tell you simply as I remove my hands from your body and step away from you. "Stand up and lean against the edge of my desk, Mrs. Willows."

"Okay." You agree hesitantly, wondering about the seemingly innocent request. Surely I had something more sinister in mind for you but you complacently follow my command. 

"Lift your skirt up higher, Tracy." I tell you as the hem of your skirt falls down to cover the front of your panties. "Spread your legs wider, my dear, and pull your skirt back up. Don't try to hide that delicious little pussy of yours from me." I chide as I move to kneel in front of you, my hands resting on your bare calves as your fingers slowly pull the hem of your skirt up.

"Such a lovely pussy my slut has." I comment as you hike your skirt up to reveal the front of your powder blue panties, the crotch pulled aside to expose the lips of your sex to me. "Such a delicious looking cunt," I murmur as I lean forward, my tongue sliding along the cleft of your pussy.

"Oh... please..." You moan softly, your body trembling at the sensation of my tongue licking your most private area. One hand releases your skirt to rest on my head as your legs spread wider, thrusting the mound of your sex out towards me. "Please..."

"What do you want, Mrs. Willows?" I ask, leaning back away from your proffered pussy, pretending to ignore the lust in your face as you look down at me. "You'll have to be very specific about your needs."

Your blue eyes dart away from mine in shame as you arch your back more, spreading your legs as wide as they'll go as you lean back on my desk. Your position forces the exposed lips of your pussy to part slightly as you force your thighs as far apart as they'll go. "Please... please eat my... eat your slut's pussy." You beg softly, your voice filled with shame as your eyes watch me carefully.

"Oh, Tracy," I say, smiling up at you as I lean forward, my lips just barely brushing against the dark blonde hairs of your pubic bush, "I like how you asked me that. You are learning quickly how to be a good slut. Would you like me to eat out your married pussy, Mrs. Willows?" 

"Yes." You almost scream, your hips lifting off the desk to press the bare lips of your sex against my mouth. "Please... Ohhh," You sigh as my tongue parts the tight lips of your pussy, licking the soft wet inner flesh as your eyes flutter in ecstasy. 

"Is that what you wanted, Mrs. Willows?" I ask, pulling my mouth from your crotch as you gasp in disappointment. "Would you like me to continue?"

"God, yes, please..." You sob, your hands reaching down to cradle the back of my head, trying to pull my mouth back to your needy sex.

"I want you to do something for me, Tracy, and I'll continue." I tell you, my eyes looking into yours, holding your gaze as my tongue stretches out to just barely touch the hooded tip of your clit.

"Ahh, Anything. I'll do anything for you..." You gasp, your eyes half closed in shame as you feel your body responding to my touch.

"Good," I smile at you, "I want you to describe everything I do to you. Tell in lurid detail exactly how I'm touching you, what my mouth is doing to you, how your slutty married pussy likes my touch."

"No, please..." You say, shaking your head slightly in humiliation even as your hand tries to press my mouth harder against your moist pussy. "It's too... too embarrassing. I can't."

"Then you're not going to get what you want, Mrs. Willows." I say with a crooked smile as I start to stand up.

"No!!!" You almost shriek as you try vainly to hold me down, your fingers curling into my hair as you try to force your crotch against my mouth. "No, please... I'll... I'll do it." You sigh in defeat, your eyes avoiding the look of triumph on my face as I settle back down to my knees, my hands running over your bare thighs. "I'll do anything..."

"I knew you would, Mrs. Willows." I tell you with a smug smile as my fingers slide up under the hem of your skirt, drawing your panties down over your thighs to completely expose your pussy to my gaze. 

"Hmmm," You sigh as my hands slide back up your legs, my fingers lightly tracing along the soft skin as my tongue licks around the neatly trimmed triangle of your bush. 

"I want you to look me in the eye as you describe this, Tracy." I instruct you as my lips move down to junction of your thighs, kissing the lips of your pussy as you look down at me in shock.

"I... can't..." You stammer, blushing in shame at the thought of looking at my face as I perform oral sex on you. "Yes, sir..." You capitulate a few seconds later as you feel my mouth start to leave your wet pussy.

"Good girl," I murmur as I press my mouth back against your swollen labia, my eyes fixed on yours.

"Ohhh," You shiver, your large blue eyes filled with a mixture of shame and inescapable lust, you lips parted as your breath comes in deep gasps. "You... your tongue is licking along the lips of my pussy, teasing me." You tell me in a hoarse whisper, "You're parting my pussy, licking my private pink area. Shit," You gasp out, your fingers tightening their grip on my head as your body trembles, "Your tongue is...circling... circling around my VAGINA!" You finish in a surprised yelp as the tip of my tongue slips into the warm wet canal of your sex. 

"OH." You gasp out, your eyes closing for a brief second as you arch your back at the sensations my mouth is giving you. "You... you are licking me, tasting the inside of my pussy. Your thumb is stroking my little clit... as your tongue... Oh, God!!!" You scream, your fingers digging painfully into my scalp as the intense sensations become too much for you and you orgasm. Your body spasms as you fall backwards onto my desk, your chest heaving as I continue to lick and nibble your pussy.

"That was a good slut, Mrs. Willows." I tell you, licking your juices from my lips as I stand over you, my hands still resting on your thighs. "You're a very sexual woman, I bet you've never fully explored your needs, have you, Tracy?"

You look at me, your eyes still glazed slightly from the powerful climax, your lips parted as you struggle to capture your breath. You start to answer me, only to be interrupted by the buzzing sound of the intercom followed by the high pitched grating voice of my secretary.

"BZZZZZZ. Is everything all right in there, Mr. Cash? I thought I heard someone scream."

"It was nothing, Ms. Mahone." I respond, looking down at you as you lay spread across my desk, your clothes in disarray, and your pale skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration. "I was just having... a discussion... with Mrs. Willows." I tell the elderly secretary, "Why don't you go on home, Ms. Mahone? School is out and I'll lock up the office." 

"Very well, sir."

"Well, we won't be so rudely interrupted again, Tracy." I say smiling at you as you finally recover enough to sit up, your face red with embarrassment as your fingers move to cover your exposed genitals.

"I... it's late." You say softly, looking down at the floor as you avoid my gaze, "I need to get... to go home."

"Not yet, Mrs. Willows," I tell you, my hands gripping your wrists and pulling your hands away from your pussy. "I'm not done with you yet."

"I... my family is expecting me..." You protest weakly as you try to pull your hands free of my grasp. "I... I have to go. My husband..."

"Will have to wait," I tell you harshly, my grip on your wrists tightening painfully. "You are mine, Tracy." I hiss in your ear as I step closer to you, "You are my slut to do with as I please and I'll tell you when you can leave."

"Please..." You gasp as you feel my hot breath on your neck, your hands stretched out beside you. "I... I have to leave..." You whisper softly, your dark blue eyes looking up at me pleadingly.

"Not yet," I hiss again as I press my lips against yours, feeling you struggle briefly to avoid the kiss before yielding to me once again, your lips parting hesitantly, allowing my tongue to explore your mouth as your resistance seems to melt. My tongue wrestles briefly with yours as my hands release your wrists, sliding up the smooth fabric of your sleeves to grip the collar of your blouse as I pull my mouth from yours. Your eyes lock with mine challenging me for a few intense seconds before you lower your gaze, your cheeks red in shame as my hands slide down to fondle your heaving breasts. "Tell me, Tracy," I murmur in your ear as I lean close to you, my hands massaging the soft globes of your tits, "Does your husband ever excite you like this? Does the father of your children know how to arouse you like I do?"

"Please," You whimper softly, your eyes darting up to my face, your face full of longing as you writhe in pleasure under my caresses. "Don't make me..."

"Tell me, Tracy." I hiss, my fingers rubbing slow circles around your erect nipples.

"John loves me..." You pant, your full lips parted as you gasp for breath. "He's a good husband... a good man..."

"But he doesn't fuck you like you want him to, does he? He doesn't realize what a slut you are, Mrs. Willows." I whisper to you softly, my hands sliding down over the soft skin of your stomach to rest on your hips. "He doesn't fuck you like I do, like you want to be, isn't that true?"

"No.... please..." You sob, trying to squirm out of my arms again, your hair falling down around your face hiding the look of shame in your eyes.

"Tell me that John makes you feel the way I do, that he excites you sexually and I'll let you leave now. Convince me that's the truth, Mrs. Willows, and I'll never touch you again." I tell you as I slowly remove my hands from your hips, stepping back slightly from the desk to let you stand upright again.

You stand there, leaning against my desk, head bowed so that your hair obscures your face. Your fingers slide down the valley between your breasts, lightly caressing your stomach, trailing down to the waist of your skirt as you slowly raise your face to look at me, your eyes full of shame as you shake your head slightly, "No...he doesn't... he doesn't make me feel like.. Like you do."

"I thought so," I say with a knowing smile as I step close to you once again, my hands covering yours as they lay on your stomach. "Tell me, Tracy. Tell me what you want now." I instruct you softly, my lips brushing against yours as my fingers slide over your skirt.

"I... I want you to..." You say, looking up at me, your eyes large and filled with the confusing mix of shame and passion, "I want you to fuck me." You whisper softly, bucking your hips towards me as you feel my hand sliding down over the front of your panties.

"Good, that's very good; you're turning into a very good slut, Mrs. Willows." I encourage you as my fingers slide over the front of your panties, feeling the moist heat radiating from your crotch. "Do you want my cock in your married pussy, Tracy?"

"Ye... Yes, sir," You pant, your ruby red lips parted invitingly as you look me in the eye. "Please fuck your slut's married cunt with your cock."

"I like hearing you say that, Mrs. Willows." I smile as I step behind you, looking over your shoulder at our reflection in the mirror. "Tell me again, what do you want me to do?"

"Please, Sir," You sigh softly as my fingers slide down between your spread legs, shivering as you feel my light touch on your moist pussy lips, spreading you open slowly, "Please fuck me. Fuck my slutty pussy." You almost beg as you press your body back against mine, spreading your legs wider and thrusting your hips into my groping hand.

"Since you asked so nicely, Tracy," I reply in a soft voice, sitting on the edge of my desk. I release you, my hand quickly undoing the fly of my pants, drawing my hard cock out as I lean further back on the desk. "I want you to climb up on the desk, Mrs. Willows." I instruct you, one hand resting possessively on your hip while I slowly stroke the length of my erection. "Climb up on the desk and straddle my hips, Tracy. I want you to ride my cock. Watch in the mirror as you fuck yourself on my hard cock, Mrs. Willows. Describe what you see; tell me what it looks like as we fuck."

"Y...yes," you moan reluctantly, ashamed at the lewd display as you squat over my legs, your legs spread wide, the lips of your pussy gaping open as your graceful fingers gently guide the mushroom head of my cock to the entrance of you vagina. "My... my pussy is red, swollen... I can see the inner pink... my pussy is wet, ready." You gasp, humiliated and aroused by your actions as you examine yourself in the mirror, the golden band of your wedding ring shining as your fingers press the thick veined shaft of my cock to your pussy. "Your... the head of your cock... is sliding... GOD!... sliding into me... filling my married pussy. FUCK... My... my cunt is full... full of your hard cock. OH....So good..." You whimper as you begin sliding yourself up and down the length of my shaft, my hands resting on your hips guiding your pace. 

"You're a good slut, Tracy. You are an excellent married whore." I hiss at you as I begin to lift my hips in time with you, slamming my cock harder into you, pushing both of us closer to an orgasm. "Whose... slut... are... you?" I gasp as I feel the pressure beginning to build in my testicles, thrusting my cock deep into you for one last thrust as I cum.

"Yours..." You sigh, feeling the sticky ribbons of semen spurting into your womb, your body seeming to melt over mine as you feel the pleasant waves of an orgasm spread through your exhausted muscles. "I'm your slut, Mr. Cash, your personal whore." You moan sleepily, feeling a small pang of disappointment as my cock slips out of your well used cunt.

"That's right, Mrs. Willows." I say, kissing the side of your neck as I roll you off of me, sitting up on my desk. "Whose pussy is this?" I ask, my hand sliding through the short blonde hairs of your bush.

"Yours," You answer, your hips gyrating slowly as my fingers trace over wet lips of your pussy. 

"Who gets to fuck this pussy, Mrs. Willows?"

"You, sir."

"What about John, your husband? Does he get to use your pussy, Tracy?" I ask, my fingers curling to cup the entire length of your pussy. "Does he get to fuck my slut?"

"N...no," You answer hesitantly, "No one gets to fuck your slut, sir. Only you."

"I'm glad you understand, Mrs. Willows." I say, climbing off my desk and fixing my suit. "Now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I've got a school board meeting in fifteen minutes and I don't think the board would enjoy finding you here."

"Yes..." You reply as you stand up, fixing your skirt and buttoning your blouse. Trying to smooth out the wrinkles is useless as you gather your purse and start towards the door.

"Oh, Tracy, School is out next week for vacation. I'll be calling you during the day, so make yourself available." I instruct as you pause in the doorway, your hand on the doorknob.

"Yes... yes, sir." You answer, bowing your head as you close the door behind you. 



Tracy Goes to the Principal's Ch. 03



Four days later, I knock on the front door of your house. I know you are home, I called your office and they informed me that you had called in sick the last two days. It's a nice spring day and the grass is bright green with new growth on your lawn as I knock again. School has been out since Monday for spring recess but this is the first chance I've gotten to come visit you.

"Hello, Mrs. Willows." I say with a smile as you open the door after my third knock. Your eyes go wide in surprise as you see me standing there, your cheeks flushing red in embarrassment as you remember every instance of humiliation at my hands. "You're looking lovely today," I continue in a soft voice as you lower your eyes to avoid my gaze. "Mind if I come in, Tracy?"

"My son... my son is home." You tell me, casting a worried glance over your shoulder, hearing the noise of the television coming from deep in the house.

"So?" I ask as I step purposefully into your house, forcing you to step back out of my way. "I'm sure Mike won't mind if I stop by to visit." I assure you as I push the door shut behind me.

"But..." You say worriedly continuing to glance over your shoulder.

"I'm sure that he's not going to be interrupting us," I tell you, stepping closer to as I place my hands on your shoulders. 

"It's... it's lunchtime." You explain your dark blue eyes full of conflicting emotions as you look towards the open doorway to the living room. "We eat together."

"So, I'll join you." I say smiling, my hand cupping your chin and turning your face until your eyes meet mine. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Please..." You beg, your eyes darting to the closed door behind me. "Not here... not today... please, I'll do anything."

"I think we've already established that fact, Tracy." I chuckle at the unintentional innuendo. "Now, why don't we go to the kitchen and you can make lunch." I suggest, releasing your chin. You stand there, your head bowed slightly before you reluctantly turn and lead me towards the kitchen. I admire the way your long blonde hair sways around your shoulders as you walk in front of me, the light cotton dress you are wearing falling just above your knees. "You've got a nice house here, Mrs. Willows." I compliment you as I sit at the table as you move around the kitchen.

"Thank... thank you." You reply uncertain how to act in my presence. "Would you... like something to drink?"

"No thank you, Tracy, I'm all set." I say smiling at you as you begin to make your son's lunch. "What kind of panties are you wearing today, Mrs. Willows?" I ask after a few minutes silence as you slice chicken breast at the counter.

"What?!" You gasp turning around, your eyes filled with surprise even as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

"You heard me, Tracy." I say smiling at you reassuringly, "What kind of panties do you have on?"

"I... I'm wearing cotton panties, French cut briefs." You answer me softly; you voice little more than a whisper as you glance worriedly towards the hallway, afraid your son will enter the kitchen unexpectedly.

"What color are they?" I ask, enjoying your obvious discomfort, knowing that it arouses you as I ask the most humiliating questions of you.

"Yellow..." You answer after a few seconds hesitation, "Yellow with little blue flowers on them."

"Very seasonal, very spring like, don't you think?" I say with a soft chuckle, "Show them to me."

"No... please..." You say, shaking your head slightly as you continue to watch the open door carefully even as your fingers reach down to grip the hem of your dress. "Not here...not while my son's home," you plead as you lift the skirt up to reveal a few inches of your shapely thighs.

"Yes, Mrs. Willows, now." I insist as you slowly pull the hem of your dress up to reveal the front of your panties, your eyes filled with shame as you watch my silent reaction. 

"Please..." you beg, your eyes darting from me to the door before returning to my face.

"You've got very cute panties on," I tell you with a smirk, "I'd like a closer look at them but you should probably finish making lunch first. I'll go talk to Mike for a few minutes while you finish the sandwiches." I tell you as I stand; moving over to stand close to you as your fingers slowly let your dress fall back down to cover your panties. "I've missed my pussy the last couple of days," I whisper to you softly as I lean close, my lips brushing against your earlobe as my hand rests lightly on your hip, feeling you tremble at my closeness. "I've been looking forward to using you all week, Mrs. Willows." I tell you as I turn suddenly and walk from the room.

You wonder what I'm saying to your son as you continue to make lunch, blushing as you remember the feel of my lips on your ear and my hand on you hip. ****** "Mr. Cash was telling me what the two of you are doing," Mike announces as he sits on the opposite side of the table, picking up his sandwich eagerly. I sit to your right, my knee brushing against yours under the table.

"Wha... what?" You ask, sputtering around the mouthful of water you had just drank, your eyes shooting a worried glance towards me.

"Yeah, he was telling me about some project you're working on with him." Your son explains as he starts to eat his sandwich quickly. "Are you alright, Mom? You don't look so good..." He asks, looking at you curiously.

"I'm... I'm fine," You reply with a smile, trying to push down the panic that had flooded you at his announcement. "Just swallowed wrong," You explain lamely shooting me a quick glance.

"Your mother's been a big... help... to me," I say, smiling at you as I place special emphasis on the words. You blush as you remember the times in my office and what I'm calling 'help'. The talk then turns to Mike's after school activities and the many trivial matters that are only of importance to teenagers. I nod and make polite comments when they're appropriate, making small talk with your son as I move my hand under the table, placing it on your bare knee.

You shoot me a pleading look as you try to move your leg from under my hand, my fingers tightening on your soft flesh until you stop struggling against me. You smile at the story your son is telling, shivering as you feel my hand slide up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher as my fingers lightly caress your leg. "That's nice dear," You comment, trying to conceal your reaction to my touch as my hand rests high on your thigh, the side of my hand pressing against the soft cotton of your panties. You shift in your seat, your hips pressing forward as you feel my hand move to cover the soft mound of your pussy, my fingers cupping your sex through your panties. 

"Not hungry, Mom?" Mike asks as he notices your food sitting untouched on your plate.

"I'm... I'm not feeling that well right now." You lie, biting off a soft moan that threatens to escape your lips as my fingers softly trace the contours of your pussy through the thin cotton of your underwear. You glance worriedly at me, your cheeks red with shame even as you spread your legs wider, giving my groping hand freer access to your panties. You shift in your seat as my fingers curl into your panties, running across the warm wet lips of you pussy. Your body trembles as I gently caress your labia, gently spreading your pussy open.

"Mom?" Mike asks, looking at the deep flush on your face and the way you keep shifting in your chair. "Are you alright?"

You open your mouth to answer only to have the ringing telephone save you from lying to your son again. "I'll get it," Mike announces as he rushes out of the room, "It's probably for me."

"Please..." You gasp, relieved to finally be alone without your son's curious eyes on you. "Don't do this to me... not today... not in front of my son."

"Take off your panties and give them to me." I instruct you, ignoring your pleas for me to stop.

"What?! I... I can't..." You stammer, glancing first at my hand in your crotch then to the door Mike so recently left through.

"Give me your panties, Tracy." I repeat, "And you'd better do it quick before he comes back."

You whimper softly, your eyes never leaving the doorway as you lift yourself up off the chair and slid the yellow panties down. 

"When did you trim your pussy?" I ask, my fingers exploring the now hairless lips of your pussy as you push your panties down to your ankles. "Did you do it in hopes I'd stop by this week?"

"No..." You gasp, your eyes closing as my fingers play lightly over the neatly trimmed hair of your bush. "I... I trimmed my pussy on.... on Saturday. I trim... every week." You admit, bowing your head in embarrassment as you arch your back slightly, pressing your exposed pussy against my hand, enjoying the light caresses on your sensitive flesh.

"I don't believe you, Mrs. Willows." I hiss softly in your ear, my fingers tracing along the lips of your pussy. "I think you trimmed for me. I think you were secretly hoping I'd visit you this week. I think you want me to fuck you, to rape your married pussy again. Isn't that true, Tracy?"

"Noooo..." You moan, shaking your head slightly in denial even as you feel the moist heat of your pussy increase with my words. "I... I always trim..."

"Give me your panties," I instruct, removing my hand from between your legs and holding it out expectantly.

You squirm slightly at the absence of my groping fingers in your crotch, missing the soft knowing caresses as you bend down and pull your panties off, handing them to me in silence. "That's a good girl, Mrs. Willows." I chuckle as my fingers run over the soft cotton of your panties, my thumb rubbing over the small wet spot at the crotch. "Hmm, seems you're a little aroused today, Tracy, judging by how wet your panties are."

"No... I..." You start to deny, your eyes fixed on your panties as they lay in my hand.

"Really, then what could have caused this wet spot? Did you have an accident, Mrs. Willows? Did you piss yourself?" I ask, knowing the truth but enjoying the look of humiliation on your face as you try to avoid my gaze. 

"Please..." you beg, your face red in embarrassment, your eyes fixed on the damp dark spot on your panties.

"I don't think this is piss," I tell you as I lift your panties to my face, sniffing at the wet spot as you watch me in shame. "Definitely doesn't smell like you had an accident, Mrs. Willows," I tell you with a knowing smile, my tongue stretching out to lick at the small dark patch, tasting the fluid of your arousal. 

"Don't..." You gasp out, shivering in humiliation as you watch me lick along the crotch of your panties, tasting the lingering flavors of your pussy.

"Hmm, definitely doesn't taste like you pissed yourself either, Tracy. I'd say that despite your denials you are turned on, that you get aroused by me." I tell you, smiling as I fold your panties into a neat bundle and tuck them into the pocket of my pants.

"I... It's..." You stammer, whatever you are about to say being interrupted as your son returns. You quickly push your chair closer to the table, hiding your exposed pussy under the tablecloth.

"Hey, Mom," Mike says with a smile as he takes his place on the opposite side of the table. "Me and a couple of the guys are going to get together this afternoon," He tells you as he begins to devour his food once again. 

"O... okay." You murmur, trying not to shiver as you feel my fingers once again trailing lightly over your thigh, the soft tickling touches nearing your exposed sex as you try and concentrate on what your son is saying.

"That'll work out well, Mrs. Willows." I say, grinning at you as my hand cups your pussy under the table, feeling the heat of your desire as my fingers comb through the hair of your bush. "I've got a couple of things I'd like your mother to... go over." I explain to Mike as he finishes his lunch, unaware that I'm groping his mother's wet cunt across the table from him.

"That's cool." He responds completely unconcerned, his thoughts on the plans he has for the rest of the day. "I've got to go get ready, Mom." He announces as he stands up.

"Ohhh...kay," You barely manage to say, your eyes fluttering as my fingers suddenly slip into the tight opening of your vagina, filling your sex. 

"Are you sure you feel okay?" Mike asks a look of concern crossing his face as you struggle to hide the effect my hand is having on you.

"I'm.... I'm fine." You gasp slightly, your legs spreading wider under the table as my fingers slide further into you. "Have... a good time." You manage to say, holding back the moan that threatens to overwhelm you as my thumb gently strokes the soft hood of your clit.

"Okay, Goodbye Mr. Cash," Mike says, waving as he hurries out of the room. I nod my head towards him as he leaves, "See you in school, Mike."

"He's a good kid," I tell you as I start to slowly stroke my fingers into your pussy, your hand gripping the edge of the table as you try to hold the moan of pleasure deep in your throat. 

"You... bastard..." you hiss at me, your breath coming in ragged gasps as I continue to fuck my fingers into your hot, wet pussy, "In front of my... son." 

"You can curse me all you want, Mrs. Willows." I tell you, my fingers curling against the sensitive interior walls of your vagina, "You can blame me but we both know it aroused you, turned you on even more to be molested with your own child in the room."

"If... if he had seen..." You gasp, arching your hips up against my exploring fingers, your knuckles white as you grip the table hard. "My life... I'd be ruined..."

"And that's what excites you, isn't it, Tracy? The thought that someone might find out what a slut, a whore hiding behind a respectable front, you really are." I taunt you, feeling your body beginning to tense under my caresses.

"Oh.... Oh, God..." You pant, your slender shoulders shaking as your body tenses, your pussy gripping my fingers tightly as you orgasm.

"That's a good slut, Mrs. Willows." I tell you as you slump in your chair, your skin flushed as you struggle to get your breath back after your climax. "Now, my dear," I pause as I hear the front door close signaling that Mike has left, "who does this pussy belong to?"

"I... It belongs to you," You answer me slightly breathlessly, moaning softly as you feel my fingers slowly slide out of you.

"Has anyone else used my pussy recently, Mrs. Willows?" I ask, holding my fingers up in front of your face so you can see the glistening juices of your sex. "Have you fucked anyone other than me, your husband perhaps?"

"No..." you confess, your eyes fixed on the moisture dripping along my fingers, "No one has used your pussy... I haven't... I haven't had sex with John in weeks."

"Good," I say smiling at your confession as I stand up, licking my fingers clean with a loud slurping sound. "Let's go into the kitchen now, Mrs. Willows. I've got a couple things I need to get done today." I tell you as I pull your chair out for you, letting you walk in front of me through your quiet house.

"What... what do you... want me...?" You start to ask, your blue eyes filled with shame as you fidget around the kitchen, your gaze never settling on me as I stand in the middle of the floor.

"First things first, Mrs. Willows," I say, smirking at your behavior. "I'm curious; does your bra match your cute flowered panties?"

"Yes... my bra matches." You tell me softly, your head bowing as I move to stand in front of you, my hand resting lightly on your shoulders. "I... I always wear matching sets..." 

"Show me, Tracy." I tell you softly, my fingers cupping your chin and lifting it so that you are looking me in the eyes. 

Your hands move up to the collar of your light cotton dress, your fingers deftly undoing the buttons one after another, moving down until your dress is hanging open from your neck down to your waist. "Show me your bra," I whisper softly to you, seeing the lust and shame in your eyes as you try to look away.

You moan low in your throat, your fingers gripping your dress by the collar, spreading it to expose the smooth expanse of your skin, a small golden pendant hanging down between your collar bones. Arching your back slightly, you pull the two halves of the dress wider apart, pulling it down off your smooth shoulders to reveal the tops of your rounded breasts. "Show me your breasts, Mrs. Willows."

"Yes..." You sigh softly as you continue to strip for me, your face a mask of humiliation even as your breathing becomes heavier, a flush of arousal flooding your cheeks as you pull your dress down so that it gathers at your waist, your breasts encased in the cotton bra exposed as you look up at me.

"Very good," I say as my eyes admire the rounded tops of your breasts, my fingers gently tracing down the strap to the cup of your bra, following along the edge to the valley between your heaving breasts. "I like this bra, Tracy." I tell you, my fingers curving, dipping under the fabric of your bra to feel the soft warm flesh of your breast. You inhale sharply as my fingers brush against your hard nipple, your back arching, pressing your tender tit harder against my palm. "Are you turned on by this, Mrs. Willows?" I ask you softly, moving around to stand behind you, my hand still caressing the warm flesh of your breast. I pull you back against me, my chin resting on your shoulder as I press my body tight to yours, letting you feel the hard bulge of my erection pressing against your soft ass. "Does it arouse you to have me, your rapist, taking advantage of you in your kitchen?"

"Yes," You moan softly, leaning back against me, "It turns me on to let you... let you have me anyway you wish to."

"Do you want me to fuck you, Tracy? Do you want your rapist to fuck your married pussy again, Mrs. Willows?" I ask, one hand still caressing your breast while the other rests on your stomach, holding you close to me. 

"Please..." You plead softly, your body writhing against mine as you press yourself harder against me, your soft ass caressing my hard cock as you move. "Please, Sir, fuck me. Use my married pussy, Mr. Cash," You hiss, your hand covering mine, sliding it down over the bare skin of your stomach, guiding my fingers into your open dress, pushing my hand lower to press against your wet, ready pussy. "Please."

"Hmm, you're turning into such a good slut, Tracy." I murmur in approval as your fingers guide my hand over the wet folds of your cunt. "I bet you'd do anything I asked as long as I fucked you. Wouldn't you, Mrs. Willows?"

"Yes," You gasp, your fingers pressing my thumb against the tight opening of your vagina. "I'd do anything for you, anything."

"Yes, I think you would," I agree, letting you push my finger into your pussy, feeling your soft flesh grip at my invading digit hungrily. "I want you to marry me, Mrs. Willows." I tell you simply, my lips brushing against your neck as you tremble under my touch.

"I'm... I'm married.... My husband...," you gasp, your eyes half closed as you try to force more of my hand into your wet, needy pussy. "My family..."

"I want you to marry me as my slut, my married slut, Tracy." I explain to you, my finger drawing small circles on the sensitive inner walls of your vagina. "You marry me as my fuck toy, my little cum slut while staying married to John. Do you understand, Mrs. Willows?" I ask, my thumb strumming against your hard little clit, causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

"I'd... I'd be yours but still married to... to my husband." You pant, turning your head to look over your shoulder at me. "I... I would belong to you while still having my family."

"Very good, Tracy," I tell you softly, my lips brushing against yours as you look at me, lust mixed with shame filling your large blue eyes. "Well, what's your answer, Mrs. Willows?"

"I..." You pant hesitatingly as you feel my touch on your sex start to lighten as I slowly start to draw my hand away. "I'll marry you, become your... your cum slut." You tell me, your voice lowering to a humiliated whisper at the last words. "Just please, please fuck me now."




Tracy Goes to the Principal's Ch. 03



"Of course, my dear," I say with a smile at your submission to me, my fingers returning to their exploration of the dewy folds of your pussy. "I want you to lean against the countertop, Tracy," I instruct you softly, my breath hot on your cheek as I hold you close to me. "Face the sink and spread your legs slightly," I tell you as I release you, smiling as you obediently follow my directions. You move silently to the counter, your hands resting on the edge of the sink as you slowly spread your shapely legs, leaning forward slightly so that your ass is thrust back towards me invitingly.

"Is this... is this what you want?" You ask me, glancing over your shoulder at me eager to please me even as you are ashamed of your whorish behavior.

"That's perfect, Mrs. Willows." I tell you as I move over to stand behind you, one hand resting on your hip, the other hurriedly undoing my pants. "Lift your dress up for me," I tell you as I pull my achingly hard cock from my pants, "show me your married pussy."

You whimper softly, your hand trembling as you slowly lift your skirt, knowing that your life will never be the same. "Such a lovely ass and pussy you have, Tracy." I comment, my voice husky with lust as I lean over you, the swollen head of my cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. "Does your pussy want my hard cock in it?" I ask you, moving slightly so that my cock rubs over your slick labia.

"Y...yes." You pant, your hips thrusting back towards me, trying to impale yourself on my cock. "Please... please fuck me."

"I want you to put my cock in you, Mrs. Willows. Fill your slutty pussy with my cock," I tell you, my hand sliding down to caress the soft flesh of your ass.

"Ohhh..." You moan in humiliation as you slide a hand under you, reaching back through your thighs to gently wrap your long fingers around the thick veined shaft of my erection. 

"That's a good slut, Mrs. Willows." I moan as your fingers slowly stroke my cock as you position the mushroom shaped head of my cock at the entrance to your pussy, pushing your hips back towards me, lowering yourself on me. "You've got such a great cunt," I gasp, thrusting my hips forward, burying my cock completely in your flooded pussy.

"Ohhh," You moan softly, your fingers still gripping the base of my cock as I fill you, your needy pussy convulsing, gripping the invading penis tightly. "Fuck... fuck me... I'm... I'm yours to use..." 

"That's right, Tracy." I hiss as I start to thrust into, the kitchen filling with the sounds of our ragged breath and the wet slapping sound as our bodies move together. "You're mine. Mine..." I hiss in your ear, my hands sliding up your sides and around your front to roughly caress your heaving tits as I fuck you.

"Oh... oh, god..." You gasp, arching your back, thrusting your hips back towards me, trying to draw more of my cock in to your pussy. "It's... it's so good."

"You like this," I hiss, my hands pulling the cups of your bra down to expose the hard nipples, my fingers pulling on them gently as my cock pistons into your pussy. "You certainly don't act like a respectable business woman, Mrs. Willows. You act more like a cock hungry whore then a wife and mother."

"Oh... I'm... I'm a... whore." You gasp out, looking back at me, your blonde hair falling around your face as you pant for breath.

"Yes, you are." I agree, pulling my cock from your grasping pussy.

"Please...." You start to beg only to be cut off as I roll you over, my hands gripping your narrow waist as I lift you up and set you on edge of the counter.

"You're a whore, Mrs. Willows." I tell you as I grip one of your legs, lifting it up over my shoulder as I step in close to you. "You're my whore. My cock slut," I hiss at you as I thrust my cock back into you.

"Fuck..." you gasp out, your leg being raised opens your pussy like never before and you wrap the other one around my thighs, holding me tight to you. "Fuck me... fuck your whore." You hiss your eyes fixed on mine as your hand rest on my shoulders, fingernails biting into my flesh even through my shirt. 

"God!" I grunt, thrusting hard into you, my hands sliding down to knead the flesh of your exposed tits as I feel the pressure begin to build in my balls.

"Cum... cum in your slut." You moan, sensing my impending orgasm, leaning your head forward so that your lips brush mine. "Fill my married womb with your rapist's semen." You hiss at me, pulling me closer, your lips pressing against mine in a fierce kiss.

"Yes..." I gasp out, my cock bucking in your tight pussy as I cum.

"Oh...." You sob, your eyes shutting as your body tenses under me, your pussy gripping me even tighter as you orgasm, the sensation of my thick semen pouring into your fertile womb pushing you over the edge. "Oh, god... god..." You gasp out softly, your body seeming to wilt against me, your head resting on my shoulder as you shiver, struggling to regain control over your body.

"That.... That was excellent, Tracy." I tell you, my fingers cupping your chin and lifting your face to look at me. "You're a good slut," I tell you softly, leaning down to kiss you, my tongue darting into your mouth as my cock slips from your well fucked pussy. "I'll be by tomorrow, Mrs. Willows." I tell you when the kiss is done, stepping away from you, letting you finally lower your leg as you sit there, perched on the edge of your counter. "For our wedding," I tell you, smiling as I tuck my cock back into my pants.

"Please..." You start to protest, your shame and embarrassment returning now that the lust has been satisfied, "I... we can't..." You start to plead, ashamed at what you agreed to do to fulfill your overpowering lust, ashamed at what your body had wanted so badly that you agreed to prostitute your dignity to me.

"Yes, we can," I tell you firmly as I straighten my tie and check my coat pocket for your folded panties. "And we will, my dear. Make sure Mike isn't at home tomorrow, unless you want him to see how much of a whore his mother is." I tell you as I head for the door. "Be ready by 10:00, Mrs. Willows, and wear your wedding gown." I say, pausing to look back at you as you sit on the counter, your legs spread wide, and your dress hiked up over your hips, a small stream of fluid dripping from the red swollen lips of your pussy onto the Formica. "And wear some sexy panties," I instruct as I open the front door and leave you alone for the day.



Tracy Goes to the Principal's Ch. 04



This chapter is dedicated to the real Tracy for her inspiration and to Lyn for helping me with the wedding vows. 

*******************************************

"Are you alone, Tracy?" I ask as you answer the front door, your slender body wrapped in a large terrycloth bathrobe.

"Not…not yet." You answer, automatically lowering your voice to a whisper as you glance back into the house. "John's just leaving for work. Mike… Mike stayed over at a friend's house last night; he won't be home until tonight."

"Very well, Tracy. I'll be go talk to John for a couple of minutes." I tell you as I step into the house, pausing to whisper softly in your ear, "Oh, wear some sexy panties today, I want you looking your best."

"Yes…" You answer softly as I walk past you into the house, greeting your husband as he comes to see who's at the door.

"Hello Mr. Willows," I say warmly, holding my hand out to shake his. "I'm Mr. Cash, Mike's Principal. I just stopped by to talk to your wife about a project she agreed to work on with me for PTA. I hope you don't mind." 

"Huh… uh, no, not at all." John replies, glancing back towards you as he shakes my hand. "I've… I've got to get to work now. I'll see you later, dear." He says as he pauses to kiss your cheek before rushing out the door.

"Are you ready, Mrs. Willows?" I ask after he has left, walking into your living room, and settling down on the couch as I look up at you.

"Not…not yet." You reply, your hands clutching the robe tighter around your body as you stand in the doorway watching me.

"Then you'd better go get dressed," I tell you pointedly as I put my briefcase up on the coffee table, opening it up and pulling several items out.

"I'll be right back." You say softly, excusing yourself from the room as I pull a small digital camera and tripod out, setting them up on the table as I pull a small jewelry box from my pocket.

I wander around the room as I wait for you, my eyes running over the numerous family photos, each one showing you smiling happily next to your husband in some idyllic location.

"I'm… I'm ready," You announce as you reenter the room a short time later, your eyes fixed on the floor, your face covered by a white lace veil.

"Well, Mrs. Willows, you look lovely." I tell you warmly as my eyes run over your body. The white wedding gown clings to your upper body, the lace along the low slung collar highlighting the expanse of your soft breasts as you look at me uncertainly. "Very nice, Tracy. Very innocent." I tell you, picking up the remote control for the camera. "Let's take a few pictures of you in your gown."

"O…okay," you respond, wondering what exactly I have in store for you as I direct you to stand in the doorway, pressing the button on the remote as I take numerous pictures of you in your gown.

"Now, Mrs. Willows," I say as I move over to stand beside you, smiling at the camera as I take two more pictures, "what kind of sexy little panties did you wear today?"

"I… I'm wearing a pair of white lace panties… high cut and low waisted…" You tell me, your face flushing red as you look into the camera, your hands gripping the skirt of your gown to keep from shaking.

"Hmmm, sounds lovely. Lift your skirt up; show your lacy white panties to the camera." I tell you as I move behind you, my chin resting on your shoulder as my arm slides around your waist.

"Y…yes, sir." You reply softly, trembling slightly as your hands slowly begin to lift your skirt, leaning back against my chest as you spread your legs slightly as the white gown inches up over your knees. 

"Mrs. Willows, are you wearing stockings and a garter belt?" I ask as I gaze down your slender body at your exposed legs. "What a good little slut you are," I chuckle as my hand slides down to caress your thigh through the sheer white stockings.

"I… I thought… I thought you would like them." You admit, your legs shaking softly as my hand slides over the bare flesh above your stockings. "I… I bought them especially for you."

"Very good, Tracy." I murmur approvingly in your ear as my fingers trace along the elastic garter, moving up under the edge of your gown. "You're learning what I like very quickly. My little slut is trying to please me," I whisper in your ear as my hand comes to rest on your garter belt.

"Ye…yes, sir." You sigh, looking up into the flash of the camera as I take two more pictures of us together, my hand reaching up under the skirt of your gown. "I… I wanted to make you… happy." You admit softly, your eyes filled with shame as you feel my lips kiss your neck before I step away from you.

"Now, Mrs. Willows, let's go upstairs to your bedroom. I've got much more planned for you today." I tell you, picking up a small camcorder and the jewelry box.

"Wha… what are you going to… to do to me?" You ask me, humiliation mixed with arousal on your face as you carefully watch me approach you. 

"Nothing that you don't secretly desire, Mrs. Willows," I tell you simply, making shooing motions towards the stairs. "Now get upstairs."

You look at me for a few seconds in silence before turning and hurrying out of the room and up the stairs. I smirk slightly as I follow you, admiring the way your hips sway in the white heels you are wearing as you climb the stairs.

"Very nice, Tracy," I compliment you as I walk into the bedroom you share with your husband, my eyes going instantly to the large mirror that hangs on your closet door. "Very nice indeed." I chuckle as I set the camcorder up on a dresser, the lens pointing at the center of your large bed. You stand to the side, your hands clasped in front of you as you watch me nervously. "When was the last time you wore that gown, Mrs. Willows?" I ask as I take a small index card from my pocket and set it in the middle of the bed, placing the small jewelry box beside it.

"On…on my wedding day, twenty… twenty years ago," You tell me, your hands smoothing down the white fabric over your hips, "I haven't worn it since…"

"Good, Tracy." I tell you, standing back to look at the bedroom critically. "And after today, you won't wear it again." I assure you as I pick up the remote for the camera and motion towards the bed, "After you, Mrs. Willows."

"Wha… what do you want me to do?" You ask uncertainly as you stand next to the bed. 

"Kneel in the center of the bed, Mrs. Willows, and face the mirror," I direct you as I start the camcorder before moving over to kneel behind you on the soft mattress. My hand goes around your slender waist, pulling you back against me as you look at yourself in the mirror, your blue eyes filled with shame as you feel my hot breath against your neck. "You make a ravishing bride, Tracy." I whisper to you softly, my lips brushing against your sensitive neck as my hand slides over the soft fabric of your gown, caressing your stomach as you lean against me. "You appear so sweet, so innocent in your virginal white gown; no one would ever know that you're my little slut. You are my slut, aren't you, Tracy?" I ask as my hand slides up to fondle the soft flesh of your breast through your dress.

"Ye…yes," You whisper softly, your arms hanging passively down by your sides as you watch my hand roughly grope you in the mirror. "I'm… I'm your little…slut." You gasp as my fingers find the hard little nub of your nipple, rubbing against it through the silken gown. 

"Yes, that's good, Mrs. Willows." I assure you, my other hand reaching around to fondle your other breast, "You've got such a responsive body, it almost cries out for sex doesn't it?"

"Oh…" You moan softly, your eyes meeting mine in the mirror as you lean back harder against me, your head resting on my shoulder as you arch your back, thrusting your breasts against my caressing hands. "Yes," You admit softly in an embarrassed voice as my hands roughly grope your heaving tits.

"I bet those sexy lace panties are already wet, aren't they, Mrs. Willows?" I ask you tauntingly. "Your slutty little pussy has probably been leaking since we first entered your bedroom, hasn't it?"

"No… that's not true…" You deny, your breathing becoming deeper as my hands slide down off your breasts, resting on your soft stomach for a second. "I'm… my panties…" You stammer shaking your head slightly in denial as my hands slide down over your hips and down across your thighs.

"Well, we'll have to see about that," I say with a mocking smile as my hands grip the edge of your gown, slowly pulling it up to expose your legs in your white nylons. "I bet your pussy is soaking wet, Mrs. Willows. Your sexy little panties are probably flooded by now." I whisper in your ear as I continue to lift your gown, the hem clearing the top of your stockings as you moan softly in shame.

"Nooo… please…" You moan in shame, your hands moving to cover mine as I continue to pull the skirt of your gown up, your eyes meeting mine in the reflection of the mirror. "I… I'm… my panties are… they're wet." You confess, your head hanging slightly in shame as you see my triumphant smile at you admission.

"That's good, Mrs. Willows." I tell you softly still drawing your gown up higher until your legs are completely bare and the hem of the dress just barely covers your panties. "Show them to me, Tracy," I whisper softly as my hands slowly let go of your gown, your fingers automatically gripping the hem to hold it in place. "Lift you gown up and show me your wet panties, my little slut."

"Please…" You moan softly as you follow my instructions, sliding the hem of your wedding dress up higher to expose the white lace panties you chose to wear today. As the hem of the gown lifts over your hips you automatically spread your legs slightly wider, exposing the moist center of your panties to the mirror.

"My, Tracy, you were right, you're panties are definitely wet," I comment as you spread your thighs wider, the white lace stretching tight over the soft lips of your pussy. "Why is that, do you think?" I ask my hands resting on your hips as my eyes meet yours in the mirror. 

"Because… because I'm a good… good little slut…" You moan softly, your head resting against my shoulder as my hands slide down over the soft cotton front of your panties. You arch your body, pressing against my caressing hands as they near your crotch, your eyes filled with embarrassment as you beg me, "Please… please, sir… I… I need you…"

"Not yet, Mrs. Willows," I tell you, enjoying the look of disappointment in your eyes as my hands avoid the damp center of your panties, sliding down your thighs instead. "We have to have the ceremony first." I explain to you as my fingers move down, caressing the sheer white fabric of your stockings. 

"What… what do you want me to do?" You ask impatiently, your pale skin flushed with arousal even as you feel ashamed of betraying you husband. 

"You're really eager today, Tracy." I state with a smile, "I like that. First, I want you to take off your wedding ring and hand it to me." I say, holding out my hand expectantly.

"But… but I… I haven't taken it off in years…" You protest weakly as your hand works the slim gold band off your finger, rolling it around in your palm for a few seconds before placing it in my outstretch hand. 

"Very good, Tracy," I tell you with an encouraging smile as I slip the ring into my pocket. "Now pick up the index card and the jewelry box," I instruct you, my hands sliding around your waist as you pick up the two items. "Open the box and look at the ring inside it." I tell you, "Does it look like your old wedding ring?" I ask as you open up the small box.

"Yes, it does." You state simply as you examine the simple golden band, "Almost identical…"

"Look inside the band, Mrs. Willows. Read what it says inside the ring." I instruct you softly as you pick the ring up in your hand, holding it close to your face to see the small imprinted letters there.

"I… I can't read it," You admit after a few seconds, "not without my glasses."

"You wear glasses, Tracy?" I ask curiously, my hands sliding over the front of your wedding gown to caress the soft mounds of your breasts.

"Only… only to read," You admit softly, sighing as my fingers run over the sensitive tops of your tits. "My glasses are on the table…" You sigh in disappointment as you feel my hands leave your body as I reach over to the small bedside table, handing the leather glasses case to you.

"Let me see you in your glasses, Mrs. Willows." I whisper in your ear as you open the case and put your glasses on. "Oh, very cute," I smile as you look up at me, the small oval lenses making your dark blue eyes larger as you blush at my compliment. "They make you appear very proper, Tracy. Very librarian-ish." I chuckle, my hands sliding over your thighs, caressing the sheer fabric of your stockings. "Now read your ring."

"It… it says: This slut, Tracy Willows, belongs to Richard Cash." You read after a minute of peering at the small engraved letters on the inside of your new wedding ring, "And then today's date." 

"That's right, Mrs. Willows, for while you've been my whore for the last few days, now we make it official." I tell you, my fingers tracing up the straps of your garter belt until they reach the white lace of your panties, my hands resting on either side of your sex, framing the dark damp center. After today, this slutty pussy," I say, my fingers spreading out to cover the mound of your sex, "will truly belong to me. Do you understand, Tracy?"

"I… I do." You answer softly, moaning low in your throat at the sensations of my fingers lightly tracing over your panties as you lean back against my chest. "I understand, sir." 

"Very good," I say, my fingers pulling the wet crotch of your panties aside to expose the soft wet lips of your pussy. "Now, I've written our vows out on the index card, my little slut," I explain to you as my fingers slowly trace over your swollen cunt, feeling the moisture gathering on my fingertips as you moan softly. "When you read it, look directly into the camera, Mrs. Willows. I want a video of this moment as a souvenir."

"Please… don't tape me…" You protest weakly, glancing at the blinking red light on the top of the camera as my fingers slowly part your pussy, stroking the soft wet flesh as you gasp out in pleasure. "I'll… I'll do anything…anything you want, Sir, just… just don't record this…"

"Oh, I know you'll do anything, Tracy," I say laughing softly at the humiliation I hear in your soft protests as my finger slides into your tight wet hole, "but I'm going to record this anyway. Now, hold up the card so I can see it," I instruct you before I begin reading. "I, Mr. Cash, take you, Mrs. Willows, to be my little married fuck toy, my cum slut to be used at my whim and as merely a receptacle for my cum. I will use your cunt, your mouth, and every part of your body today, tomorrow and for as long as I have use for you. I vow to degrade you and humiliate you, I vow to make your married cunt cream for me, I vow to make you beg for me. I will demand your obedience to me in all things and will accept your married cunt as my own possession from this moment forth until I have no further need of you."

"Now, Tracy, it's your turn." I tell you, another finger sliding into your flooded pussy, stroking the sensitive inner walls as you writhe in both pleasure and torment at my words. "Read it, slut."

"Please, I can't…" You moan softly, your hips thrusting against my hand as my fingers slide further into you, your eyes half closed in ecstasy as you shake your head slightly. "Please…"

"Read the vows, Mrs. Willows." I whisper harshly in your ear, my fingers slipping out of your tight vagina, leaving you with a sudden feeling of emptiness. "Read them or your husband gets this videotape delivered to his office."

"No, please…" You moan softly, your hips gyrating against my hand, hoping for my fingers to return. "I'll… I'll do it." You submit, your eyes falling to the small index card, sighing as my fingers slide back into your hot wet cunt. "I… I, Mrs. Willows, take you, Mr. Cash, to be my…my master and owner, to use me at your whim and as a receptacle for your… your cum. I give you use of my cunt, my mouth, and every part of my body today, tomorrow and for as long as you have use for me. I vow my body to you, to be… to be degraded and humiliated by you. I…I submit to you my obedience in all things and give my married…my married cunt to your possession from this moment forth until you have no further need of me." You say the last words softly; a feeling of melancholy washing over you from the idea of not being of further use to me. You hate to admit it to yourself but your body is singing at my every touch, making you feel more alive then any man ever has before, leaving you craving more. "Is… is that all… Sir?"

"Not quite yet, Mrs. Willows," I tell you, feeling the change in your mood as your breath begins to come in short sharp gasps, your body trembling from my thrusting fingers. "There's only one more thing you need to do before you are truly mine, Tracy. Do this one final thing and you will be mine."

"What… What is it, Mr. Cash?" You ask almost eagerly, your hands sliding over your thighs, caressing the soft smooth skin as I continue to finger fuck your wet married pussy. "What do I have to do to become yours, Sir?"

"My, you've become so eager, my little slut. I like it," I say, a third finger sliding into your tight hole causing you to whimper in pleasure. "I want you to call John at work, Tracy."

"No…" You gasp out in shock, trying to turn and look at me, "I… I can't… not him, anything but that, please Sir."

"Call him, Tracy." I tell you simply handing you my cell phone, "I want to hear you talk to him, I want to hear you talk to your husband while I caress your slutty body, Mrs. Willows. I need you to talk to the man you're cheating on while I'm in bed with you."

"But…" You moan in protest, your large eyes filling suddenly with tears, "but I love him… John can't…can't find out about… about us…"

"And he won't, Mrs. Willows, not if you don't let on that anything unusual is going on." I assure you, my fingers pushing further into your moist pussy as I press the memory dial button on my phone with the other hand. "Better talk to him, Tracy." I advise as the phone begins to ring on the other end of the line.

"He…Hello," You stammer, putting the phone to your ear almost instinctively as a voice answers at the other end, "Is John Willows there? Yes, this is his….oh," You gasp as my finger curves inside your pussy, stroking a particularly sensitive spot, "…wife."

You shoot a wary glance over your shoulder at me, hoping that I don't repeat that action when you're actually talking to your husband. "Hello, John? Yes, darling, it's… it's Tracy." You say, surprised when your husband's voice comes on the phone. "What?" You almost sigh as my fingers slide deep into you again, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to focus on not making any noise that would alert your husband to what actually is happening in your bedroom. "Ohhh…. Oh, no, dear, nothing's wrong… I was just… just distracted," You tell him a bit breathlessly as my thumb begins to circle around the erect nub of your clit as my fingers continue to thrust into your wet pussy. You glance into the mirror, seeing the mischievous grin on my face is your only warning as yet another finger slides into your tight vagina, causing you to moan low in your throat before you manage to recover and try to restore your voice to normal. "Oh, that was nothing…" You say, shooting a look over your shoulder at me, "I just had a… just something in my throat. Why I called? Oh… I was just…just thinking about you…"

"Tell him you love him," I whisper in your ear as my other hand slides between us, quickly undoing my pants to free my straining cock.

"I… I love you…" You almost breathe, your eyes meeting mine in the mirror as you feel the warm flesh of my manhood pressing against the white lace of your panties, shivering in anticipation even as you try to keep your voice even. "No… nothing's wrong, John. I'm… I'm just not feeling that well…" You tell him, trying to contain a sigh as you feel the head of my cock slide down between your spread legs, pressing against the wet crevice of your pussy. "Well, I'll… I'll talk to you tonight…." You sigh as you feel my fingers slip away from your pussy, my fingers wet with your arousal as they slide up to gently toy with your hard little clit. "Oh… Good…goodbye, Darling," You manage to gasp out as I suddenly thrust my hips forwards, the hard length of my cock sliding into your tight vagina, your finger fumbling to end the call before a loud cry of passion erupts from your throat. "You… you bastard," You hiss at me letting the cell phone drop to the bed as you turn your head to glare at me, your blue eyes flashing with anger even as your thrust your hips back against me, taking more of my cock into you. "I… I hate you," You moan softly, humiliated as your body grips my invading cock tightly, your hand sliding down to cover mine as it continues to rub small circles around your clit. "Oh, God!" You sigh, your body arching against mine as my cock rubs against the soft inner walls of your pussy.




Tracy Goes to the Principal's Ch. 04



"Are you my cum slut, Mrs. Willows? Are you my married fuck toy? Does this pussy belong to me and me alone?" I ask you, my breath coming in short gasps as I punctuate each question with a deep hard thrust into your cunt. "Well, Tracy?"

"Oh… God…" You moan, your head thrown back onto my shoulder as I fuck you from behind, your eyes watching every movement in the mirror, your pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment and arousal. "Yes… yes, I am your slut… your cum slut… your married fuck toy…your personal whore…" You gasp, your voice growing louder with each degrading name, your breath coming in deep gasps as you feel an orgasm approaching. "Use me, Sir… use your fuck toy like she was meant to be used, Mr. Cash…Oh, god!!" You scream, your body tensing as your muscles contract around my cock, your eyes squeezing shut as you cum.

"Oh, you're such a good little slut, Mrs. Willows." I whisper in your ear as you come back down from your powerful orgasm, my hands sliding up over your white gown to fondle your heaving breasts. "You can put your ring on now, Tracy; the ceremony is just about over."

"It's just about over?" You ask breathlessly as you slip the golden band that names you my property onto the third finger of your left hand. "But I thought… I thought it was over." You say giving a sigh of disappointment as my still hard cock slips from between your tight pussy lips. "You said… you said the only thing I had to do was… was call Joh…my husband," You protest as feel my hands slide off your breasts, turning to look at me as I slowly climb off the bed. "What… what do I have to do now, Sir?" You ask me anxiously as I move over to pick up the camcorder, watching me carefully as I sit down again on the edge of your bed.

"Come kneel here in front of me, Mrs. Willows," I tell you, pointing to a spot between my spread legs. Holding the video camera to my eye I follow you as you climb off the mattress, your hands automatically smoothing down the wrinkles in your gown as you demurely walk around the bed to stand in front of me, your eyes filled with shame as you slowly kneel in front of me until your face is even with my protruding erection. "Now pull your gown up, Tracy, let me see your slutty little pussy." I instruct you as I zoom the camera in on your hands as you slowly raise the skirt up over your thighs to reveal the swollen lips of your pussy exposed by your white lace panties. "Oh, so lovely," I chuckle softly focusing the camera even closer to record the small droplets of moisture leaking from between your labia, "You've got a really cute little cunt, Mrs. Willows." I compliment you as I move the camera up to your face, catching the embarrassment in your eyes as you hear my degrading words.

"Thank… thank you, Sir." You say softly, your cheeks reddening in humiliation as you feel yourself become aroused at my words. "I… I'm glad you like my slutty pussy."

"Now, Tracy, I'm sure a whore like yourself knows what I expect from you now," I say, my hard cock still glistening with your juices bobbing obscenely in front of your mouth.

"Ye… yes, Mr. Cash." You answer softly, your left hand coming up to hold my erection in one place as you lean your head forward, your full lips opening wide as you take me into your mouth.

"That's right, Mrs. Willows." I moan, my free hand pushing your veil aside as your head bobs up and down the length of my cock. "Hmm, you're good at this," I compliment you as your tongue slides over the thick veined underside of my erection, your eyes looking up at me in shame as your hand strokes the portion of my cock that won't fit in your mouth. My hand rests on the back of your head, lightly guiding you as you continue to suck me off, your tongue tasting your own pussy as you lick the juices of your arousal from my cock. "Mmm, Mrs. Willows, you're a natural born cocksucker aren't you, my little slut?" I sigh in contentment as your head begins to speed up, your eyes never leaving mine as you suck hungrily on my cock, your tongue swirling around the head, tasting my pre-cum. "Yes!" I exclaim, the pressure in my cock reaching a boiling point as I cum, shooting my hot sticky semen deep into your throat before pulling my spewing cock from your sucking lips. "Such a good little fuck toy," I groan as I shoot ribbons of cum across your face, the viscous fluid clinging to the lenses of your glasses and running down your cheeks.

"That's how a good little slut should look," I sigh, focusing the camera on your face, capturing the humiliation in your eyes as your tongue reaches out to lick the last few droplets of cum from the head of my cock. "Wouldn't you agree, Tracy?"

"Y…yes, sir." You agree somewhat reluctantly as you slide your semen coated glasses down off your nose, looking submissively into the camera's lens as your hand continues to stroke my sagging cock. 

"Good," I say, making sure I get a shot of your left hand, the golden wedding band shining as it gently masturbates me. "You're my married little fuck toy, aren't you, Mrs. Willows?"

"I… I am your married little… little fuck toy," You agree in a soft voice.

"Who are you married to, Tracy? Who is your husband and who owns your pussy?"

"I… My… my husband is John Willows, but my pussy, my body, belongs to you," You say as you look straight into the camera, the thick globs of my cum slowly trickling down your face. "I… I belong to you, Mr. Cash."

"Yes, that's right, Mrs. Willows." I agree, shutting the camera off and setting it aside. "I want you to always remember that you belong to me, you will do as I say. Do you understand, Tracy?" I ask as I stand up, tucking my cock back into my pants as you kneel in front of me on the floor.

"I… I understand," You answer me softly, watching me as I move around the room, collecting all evidence that I had been there. "I… I will do as you tell me."

"Good," I say looking back at you as you kneel next to your bed, your face covered with drying semen as your wedding gown is hiked up over your hips, exposing the red wet lips of your pussy. "Then tonight, you will fuck John. If I don't allow him to use your pussy once in a while he might get suspicious. It might also help to explain your behavior during that phone call."

"I will… fuck my husband tonight," You agree somewhat reluctantly, the idea of sleeping with your husband suddenly no longer appealing to you. 

"Fine, that's a good little fuck toy," I tell you with a smile, noticing the downcast look in your eyes at the prospect of sex with John. "I probably won't see you for a couple of days, Mrs. Willows, but make sure to stop by my office Monday after school."

"Yes… yes, sir." You answer softly, still kneeling by your bed as I walk out of your bedroom and down the stairs. You remain there for minutes after you hear the front door shut and my car start up before finally standing back up and moving into the bathroom to wash your face and change out of your soiled wedding gown.