This too was a move out of so many of my stories as I slowly became a character I had created. I shook my head no, and she snapped her fingers again.
I shook my head again, then she laid her hands on my shoulders and I felt the weight of the world descending on them. I found the force too much to carry as my knees gave out and my resolve to stand firm seemed to dissolve into mist.
“Good girl,” she purred, as I ended up on my knees staring at her cute nylon-clad feet.
I remained speechless, as if I were on trial and anything I said would incriminate me.
“Look at me,” she ordered.
I looked up, as she asked, “Of all your students, during all these years, am I the one you imagined turning you into their teacher pet?”
I didn’t admit she was this year’s teen muse, as I shook my head no.
“Are you disappointed it’s me?” she asked, as she lifted up her skirt to give me a close-up display of her fresh, ripe, shaved cunt.
I admitted the truth this time as I again shook my head no.
“Do you want to eat my cunt Jasmine?” she questioned. Hearing the ‘c’ word spoken out loud by a student was surreal. It was easy to use in my writing, and maybe even to cry out when in the heat of the moment with my husband Alden, yet actually hearing it verbalized by a student, a shy student at that, just added to the hot reality I was imbedded in.
I paused for a moment, before I gave just the slightest nod.
“Good girl,” she approved. “Now say it,” she ordered.
“Yes,” I whispered, giving in to the lust coursing through me as I stared at this unadorned teen pussy just inches from my face… so close I could smell its seductive scent and see the wetness resting between her swollen pink pussy lips.
“Louder,” she demanded, just like so many of my seductress characters had done in my stories, especially Bree from my ‘Lesbian MILF Seductress’ series, although she was physically nothing like the fictional Bree, and Bree was never shy.
“Yes,” I repeated louder, my mouth salivating with a hunger I could no longer control. I wanted to taste her pussy… now! I swallowed so I could breathe through my mouth without gargling.
“Look at me when you answer me,” she instructed patiently but insistently.
I again obeyed, my mind on submissive cruise control, like I got with my husband sometimes, as I looked up into her eyes and admitted, even pushing the envelope further, “Yes, I want to lick your pussy.”
“Don’t you mean my cunt?” she corrected.
I had only used that word in stories or in extremely rare cases when close to coming during an intense fuck session with my husband, yet I admitted, “Yes, I want to taste your cunt.”
She said, enjoying the lust in my eyes, “Go ahead, my pet.”
Like in my stories, once the offer was given I didn’t hesitate, as I leaned forward, extended my tongue and officially became a character in a non-fiction story. Life imitating art.
“Ohhhhh yes,” she moaned, her hands tracing through my hair. “Lick my cunt, my pet teacher.”
I kept licking, exploring her pussy, eagerly savouring the heavenly taste of teen twat mixed with just the slightest overtone of peppermint candy cane.
“That’s it, lick every inch of my cunt, Mrs. Jones,” she moaned.
I licked for a couple of minutes, before she moved away and said, “I need some support.”
I watched her turn her back to the chalkboard and order, “Now crawl around backwards to me, lean back and get back to licking.”
I complied and almost laughed, the positon difficult and awkward and one I’m having a hard time describing in a so-called fictional story… yet here I was, resting on my backward-thrust arms, muscles straining, cunt throbbing, my tongue licking her cunt, the entire situation as large as life and far more intense. Melanie’s juices tasted heavenly!
I struggled to get comfortable, but like in my stories, the comfort of the pet is superfluous… it’s all about the pleasure of the Mistress… a word I wasn’t willing to use out loud. I was already in over my head, I didn’t need to give any more power to Melanie than she already had.
“Oooooooh, so eager,” she moaned, as I lapped away at her with an insatiable hunger I couldn’t properly describe.
All those were true, but still didn’t adequately describe the emotions I was feeling as I lapped a teen student’s cunt in my class from the most subservient position possible.
Maybe it was the position, maybe it was the years of fantasy, maybe it was the hunger that consumed me, but I felt completely at home.
As if I was meant to be on my knees, in my classroom serving a student.
And God, did she taste good. I know I’ve already said so, but it’s worth repeating: she really did!
“That’s it, my pet,” she moaned, as I hungrily licked and licked. “Get me off.”
I kept licking, using the alphabetical licking procedure I had borrowed for an earlier story this year, ‘My ex-Boyfriend’s Hot Mom’, which also starred me, that time as a nurturing dominant, as in real life I now attempted to spell the alphabet on Melanie’s wet pussy.
The technique worked in the story and seemed to work here too as she babbled, her moans increasing, “Oh yes, you naughty little slut. You’re doing your alphabet trick on me, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I replied as I licked an ‘E’ and a ‘F’ quickly over her wet pussy.
“Yes, oh God, yes, fuck,” Melanie continued to babble as I continued the alphabet.
Unfortunately I didn’t get to the end before she grabbed my head and shoved my face roughly into her cunt after I did a quick ‘P’ and ‘Q’ and my face was flooded with her cum seconds later as she moaned, “Yesssssss, I’m coming!”
As her sweet flood swept out of her I lapped it up the best I could from my confined, restricted spot, my face pressed so tightly I could barely breathe even as I shuddered and strained to remain in my contortionist position.
When she let go, she ordered, “Stand up.”
Thankful to get off my knees, I obeyed and watched as she moved her hand under my dress, pushed my thong aside and moved her fingers inside my wet cunt.
“Wow, you’re soaking wet,” she properly assessed, as she attempted to find the ben wa balls that had enhanced the pleasure inside my wanton body.
I moaned loudly, the balls dancing around inside me as if playing tag and Melanie was ‘it’.
“You want to come, don’t you?” she asked, as she retrieved one ball.
“Yes,” I admitted, the increasing stimulation from this wild afternoon having me desperate for an orgasm.
“Yes, what?” she asked, as she probed around for the second ball.
“Yes, I want to come,” I answered, resisting the idea that she was trying to get me to call her Mistress… something almost every seductress would expect from their submissive in any of my stories.
“You know better than that, silkstockingslover,” she smiled.
I looked into her eyes as she pulled the second ball out of me, and I used the phrase I had never uttered before, but had written hundreds of times, “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good girl,” she smiled, as she walked over to her backpack and ordered, “Now go lie on your back on your desk.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said, the response coming out way more easily and more naturally the second time.
I went to my desk, and watched as she pulled a strap-on out of her backpack. How did a girl barely eighteen even own one? Of course, nothing should have surprised me about her resourcefulness after the revelations of today.
I watched her strap it on and then walk over to me as she ordered, “Spin around.”
“Um, okay,” I said, unsure what she meant.
“Now stretch your head over the end of your desk,” she instructed.
Then I knew what she meant. She was going to fuck my face first… my husband loved this position as he completely controlled the blow job and I was just a vessel for his pleasure. I always found it awkward, but did love the submissive nature of the position.
“Ready?” she asked, once I was in the position she requested.
I smiled, “I’m your slut, it doesn’t matter if I’m ready.”
She laughed, as she slid her red cock into my mouth, “I think you’ve officially become one of your own characters.”
Like my husband, she face fucked me roughly, each forward thrust sending the entire cock into my mouth. Thankfully, years of practice in this position with the real thing made it easy to handle this cock and I didn’t gag at all.
“Obviously you’ve done this position before,” she assumed accurately.
We only did this position for a couple of minutes before she pulled out and asked, “Ready to get fucked?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I admitted, perhaps a little too eagerly. But like my many fictional characters, once the line was crossed, there was no going back. I was completely at her mercy and eager to obey.
“Come bend over a desk, my teacher pet,” she ordered.
I liked her moxie. She was making me bend over a student’s desk instead of a teacher’s desk… as a symbol of power… a neat piece of the domme vs submissive hierarchy I had never considered in all my writing… until now.
“Yes, Mistress Melanie,” I obeyed, getting off the desk and moving into the position she expected.
“You’re even more obedient than I anticipated,” she approved.
I didn’t say anything, as I had no sensible response to her statement. Yes, I am naturally submissive. Yes, this is my number one fantasy coming true (others were a black woman or man having their way with me, or my being the centerpiece of an orgy, and one I’d cherished almost since childhood: a threesome with my two sisters). I should have resisted her orders and stayed morally upright, but by now my libido had been stimulated almost to the point of insanity and I was so far gone that I had no room for civilized ‘teacher talk’.
I was bent over quivering like a bitch in heat waiting for my student to fuck me. You want detachment and morality from me? Forgetaboutit!
Yep, I was officially a character in one of my own stories.
And it was as surreal as it always felt when I was creating submissive characters and only imagining being them.
Except, of course, this experience was way more intense… enthralling… visceral… and completely intoxicating.
“Tell me what you want, teacher slut,” she ordered, as she moved behind me and rubbed her cock up and down between my pussy lips.
I didn’t hesitate in my response, my desire to submit to her unconditionally overriding any last shreds of scholastic dignity, “Mistress, I’ll go crazy if you don’t fuck your teacher slut with your cock and make her your bimbo bitch,” I declared, like so many of my characters before me.
“Those are words I’ve been fantasizing about hearing for a long time,” she purred, as she slid her cock deep in me with one smooth thrust.
I moaned loudly the minute she filled me, “Yessssss!”
“Oh yes indeed,” she responded, as she began to fuck me just like I had imagined being fucked in my classroom… hard and rough.
“Harder,” I moaned, wanting to be used like a cheap slut… wanting to immerse myself in every submissive character I had ever created.
“Beg,” she demanded, as she suddenly stopped.
“Oh, please, Mistress, fuck your slut, pound the living hell out of her,” I begged, wanting to feel her body slamming into me.
“And you’ll eat my cunt whenever I want you to?” she asked, slowing filling me again.
I knew I should answer no, but like all my submissive characters, once you’ve submitted and crossed the line, there’s no going back. “Yes, Mistress,” I agreed.
“Good teacher pet,” she purred, before she added, as she resumed fucking me, “because God, do I have plans for you.”
Her tone worried me, yet her cock fucking me felt too good to worry about another day, as I moaned, “I bet you do.”
After a few more hard strokes, she said, as she pulled out, “Let’s see how bad you really want this cock.”
She moved to another desk, sat on the edge and said, “Come ride me.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I again said, the phrase by now so natural. I walked over to her, turned around, reached for the cock and slowly lowered myself on it… awkwardly.
“Use my tits for balance,” she ordered, as I struggled to properly ride her in the awkward position.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said, as I reached behind me and grabbed her firm tits. They were smaller than mine, but… “Nice,” I complimented, as I began to slowly ride the cock.
“They’re not as big as your melons,” she responded.
“They’re the perfect size, Mistress,” I said, as I began to get comfortable in this position.
“I always wished they were bigger,” she said.
As I rode her, I warned, “Be careful what you wish for. As you get older, they sag more and kill your back.”
“Good to know,” she chuckled, as we shared a casual girl-to-girl conversation while I fucked myself.
After another minute, she decided, “Let’s try something different.”
“Okay,” I nodded, not really getting off on the position I was in.
“Climb on top of me,” she said.
“How?” I asked, the desk rather small.
“Climb up on the desk and stand over me,” she instructed.
“Okay,” I said, still unsure what she had in mind.
Once I was standing as she requested, she said as I faced her, now squat down and sit on my lap.”
“Aaaaaaah,” I nodded, as she shimmied over a bit to be on the edge of the desk. I was worried I would fall off, but as I lowered myself onto her cock and into her lap, she wrapped her arms around my legs for balance.
“Now ride, slut,” she ordered.
“Yes, Mistress Melanie,” I obeyed, hoping my long, simmering orgasm was finally going to burst.
That said, the position was erotic as hell, as I could stare into her eyes as I rode her, but I couldn’t get into any rhythm at all.
She laughed, “Okay, this seemed a lot better in my head.”
“I agree,” I laughed back, as I got off her.
“Let’s just pound you the old fashioned way,” she said.
“Doggie style,” she corrected, as she got off the desk and pointed to the floor.
“One of my favourites,” I smiled, as I got on all fours like the slut bitch I had become.
“I bet it is,” she responded, as she moved behind me and in one deep thrust slid back in me.
I always liked being fucked, not doing the fucking and thus I enjoyed this way more… my orgasm instantly beginning to heat up again. “Oh yes,” I moaned.
“I bought this strap-on just for you,” she declared, as she fucked me.
“You don’t fuck all your teachers?” I joked.
“Just all my hot, porn writing ones,” she quipped back.
“Well, I think I may have my next story,” I responded, thinking this would be a hot Christmas entry if I could get it done on time and one that everyone reading would assume was fictional… just another Jasmine fantasy.
“This had better be,” she said, as her body slammed into me hard.
“Oh God, this feels so good,” I moaned.
“Being my slut, getting fucked hard or making your fantasy a reality and becoming a submissive slut for a student?”
“There is still one more thing I need to do,” she said, as she pulled out of me again… delaying the inevitable orgasm once more.
“What?” I asked.
“Turn around,” she ordered.
“Okay,” I obeyed, thinking it weird.
“Ready to come like the cheap teacher slut you are?” she asked, as she again moved behind me.
“God, yes,” I answered, relishing the fact that I was exactly what she was calling me.
“Do you really like it in the ass?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” I answered.
“Now?” she asked.
“I’m your slut,” I replied submissively and declared, again like so many of my characters, “all three of my holes are yours.” I realized the only other person I had ever said that to was my husband… who would likely bust a nut in seconds if he witnessed me being dominated by a teenage girl.
“Perfect answer from a perfect pet,” she said sweetly, as she positioned the cock at my rosebud.
“Just slide it in,” I offered, “my husband is much bigger.”
“Okay,” she said, as I felt my ass open up to accept the toy dick easily.
“Yesssss,” I moaned, “sodomize your teacher.”
“I can’t believe I’m ass fucking the prim and proper Mrs. Jones,” she said, clearly both excited and amused.
“I can’t believe you figured out who I was and then did what you did,” I countered, as the entire cock filled my ass. “That wasn’t what I was expecting from anybody, and never from you.”
“Appearances are deceiving,” she said, as she began fucking me.
“Don’t I know it,” I laughed, me being the dictionary definition of that saying.
She slowly fucked me for a good couple of minutes, before I begged, “Harder, fuck your slut teacher’s asshole harder.”
“As you wish,” she said, as she did exactly that, beginning to slam into me.
After a few strokes, she stopped. Before I could ask why, I felt her right foot go onto my head before she resumed fucking me.
The roughness… the position… the domination… and the new angle… all sent waves of pleasure through me as she fucked my ass and treated me like a complete slut.
I moaned, “Oh yes, treat me like a bitch.”
“You are my bitch,” she declared, as she gave quick, deep thrusts into my asshole.
“Oh yes, I’m your fucking teacher slave,” I declared right back, so caught up in the moment I just wanted to give myself to her mind, body, and soul.
“Oh yeah, maybe I’ll share you with Emily,” she said.
I was so far gone I wasn’t thinking straight, or at all really, as I agreed, “Yes, share me with whomever you wish.”
“Mmmmmmmmm,” she purred, I think surprised I conceded to such a request so easily. “You’re the biggest submissive of any of your own characters,” she added.
“I am what I write,” I said, and even though it sounded dumb it was true. Without exception, all of my characters begin with urges or inclinations living deep inside of me.
She moved her foot away from my head and began really reaming my asshole as she demanded, “Now come for me, you dirty ass slut.”
“Oh yes, ream my asshole, pound my shit box, drill my arse,” I listed, all nasty terms I had used in my stories… the words even more exhilarating and nasty when they were really coming out of my mouth.
“Come, you fucking whore,” she demanded, slamming into me.
“Oh yes, fuck, so close,” I babbled, my head going light.
“NOW, you bimbo fuck toy!” she ordered.
And after a few more hard deep thrusts up my poop chute I screamed, “Yessssssss, Mistress!”
She kept fucking me throughout my orgasm until I collapsed forward onto the floor.
“Well that was fun,” she said, as she finally pulled out.
“I think you broke me,” I joked, as my entire body burned with euphoria as I continued trembling with aftershock after aftershock.