Gina Ingalls smirked wickedly as she observed
Mrs. Sanderson trying so hard yet failing utterly to conceal her
intense interest. All during class, her teacher had seized every
furtive opportunity she could to glance at her. It was now clear
beyond a shadow of a doubt to Gina that Mrs. Sanderson just could
not muster up enough willpower to keep her eyes off her.
Gina had been acutely aware that her attractive eleventh grade
science and health teacher was physically attracted to her in a
way that was not at all appropriate in a teacher for a student
almost from the day she first showed up at Cardinal Academy right
after Thanksgiving Break. She also knew that her late-thirties
teacher had been desperately attempting to fight against her
improper feelings for the girl. But, because of Gina's subtle,
salacious machinations, Mrs. Sanderson continued to lose just a
little more ground each day. By now, Mrs. Sanderson's prurient
interest in Gina had developed to the point of become practically
an obsession.
As Gina continued to observe her teacher, she reckoned by the
surreptitious way that Mrs. Sanderson eyed her almost constantly
now that something she had done to the woman very recently had
pushed her over the edge of acceptable behavior. Why, her
teacher was practically drooling over her right in front of all
the other girls in class. That made Gina very happy, indeed.
For her part, Gina practically gloated at all the furtive,
confused, and embarrassed glances her teacher aimed her way
whenever she thought the girl was looking elsewhere. Gina
enjoyed immensely the secret sense of perverse sexual power it
gave her to know that her teacher, a grown woman more than twice
her age, was having a difficult time maintaining her
concentration on her lecture.
It even made sense in a sick, addictive sort of way. Gina did
look exactly like the kind of archetypical teen Lolita who could
cause someone to become distracted from what they were supposed
to be doing. She was young and fresh, tall and slender, with a
smoldering sexuality that was just barely below the surface.
Gina was lithe and graceful in her movements and she boasted long
brown hair and an enticing figure complete with long, tanned
legs, nice sized firm breasts, and a perfectly rounded butt.
And, even at only 17, Gina was already quite accomplished at
using her many physical assets to get her way with others.
She had learned years ago how sexually enticing she could be to
certain weak willed people. And with that awareness had come a
perverse and passionate desire to dominate, to conquer, to
degrade, and to humiliate anyone unlucky enough to become
erotically addicted to her.
Actually, that's what had gotten her sent to Cardinal Academy in
the first place. It seems that she had pushed one of her little
conquests (a fellow female classmate at the local, small town
high school where she had previously been) just a little too far,
merely to satisfy a whim to see to what depths of disgrace and
degradation she could take her compliant little sex toy. As the
result of a particularly demeaning session where Gina compelled
her young girl slave to become extremely intimate with her family
doggie, the poor child had ended up in a little padded cell at
the local mental health facility where she would probably spend
the remainder of her shattered life.
While nobody in authority could prove conclusively that it was
Gina who had driven her little friend over the edge, there was
enough suspicion and angry gossip floating around her small town
that her anxious parents decided to bundle her off out of state
to a school for "troubled" young girls.
So here she was at Cardinal, just itching for her next conquest.
Gina considered it both ironic and tantalizingly wicked that a
full-grown woman such as Mrs. Sanderson might well be that next
conquest.
Actually, Mrs. Sanderson had sparked Gina's sick, nasty interest
from the first day she stepped into the teacher's classroom.
Here was a grown woman who practically radiated repressed
submissiveness. Gina's keen instincts for such things homed
right in on her, and the young girl began planning her teacher's
downfall right then and there.
What a wickedly delicious thought it was for 17-year-old Gina
Ingalls to imagine having this latently submissive fully adult
woman writhing under her total sexual thrall. In addition, Gina
had more than a few reasons to think that such a delectable state
of affairs might just eventuate; quite soon in fact.
For a teacher, especially one whose classes were composed of
"troubled teen girls," Mrs. Sanderson was unusually
undemonstrative in her manner, almost to the point of diffidence
toward her students. She never raised her voice, even when
occasionally goaded or taunted by some of the more unruly among
her students. Gina surmised that the only reason discipline was
enforced at all in Mrs. Sanderson's classes was the universal
fear among the girls at Cardinal Academy of Headmistress Margaret
Wills. Headmistress Margaret punished even the slightest
infraction of the school's rules herself, and her punishments
were well noted for their swiftness and painfulness. But if it
had been left solely to Mrs. Sanderson to enforce discipline,
Gina was certain that total chaos would reign in her classroom.
Not only did Mrs. Sanderson's tentative manner lead Gina to
conclude that she might be a closet submissive, the teacher's
habit of dress also belied a conservative, even a dependent
nature, for it was remarkably unassuming; consisting entirely of
knee length dark colored skirts and high button white blouses.
Furthermore, there was altogether about Mrs. Sanderson's dress an
air of repressed and almost embarrassed sexuality that evidenced
itself in ways that were obvious to Gina. First, Mrs. Sanderson
never wore a bra even though her breasts were large and her erect
nipples were clearly visible as they pressed against her thin
blouses whenever she wrote anything on the blackboard. Second,
the teacher never wore either stockings or pantyhose to cover her
long, shapely legs. And Mrs. Sanderson had a way when she sat at
her desk of hooking her heels against the front legs of it that
made her skirts ride half way up her muscular thighs. Sometimes,
this habit allowed the more observant girls to glimpse the gusset
of her white cotton panties. Gina's discerning and lascivious
eye observed, therefore, that, save for those panties, Mrs.
Sanderson was almost completely naked under her outerwear when
she came to class each day. Gina could foresee a time in the
future when, if her plans for Mrs. Sanderson turned out they way
she planned, that she would direct her teacher to come to class
without even that last protection of her modesty. The
possibility of having the power to compel her teacher to come to
class without her panties on excited the 17 year old whenever she
thought of it. And wouldn't the other girls get a thrill from
seeing their teacher's bare pudendum right there in class.
Gina knew without a doubt that at some deep level of her
consciousness, Mrs. Sanderson was, by the way she dressed,
offering herself up sexually to anyone who would take notice of
her; even to one of her students. But, up until Gina, there had
been no takers. Gina was determined to change all that.
Mrs. Sanderson's mode of dress, combined with the teacher's shy
and tentative nature, revealed to Gina Ingalls a woman repressed
sexually at a very primal level; a woman who was subconsciously
and desperately longing for someone to discover her dark secret
and bring her out into the full bloom of sensual submissiveness.
And Gina had decided that she was just the girl to do it.
Over the past few weeks, Gina had put her theory about Mrs.
Sanderson's repressed submissiveness to the test. Now she smiled
to herself as she remembered how mercilessly she had teased and
tormented this attention-starved lady teacher of hers. How she
had "accidentally" brushed up against her body both front and
rear while in class going to and from the blackboard, and in the
hall between classes. How she had nonchalantly allowed her hand
to trail fleetingly along Mrs. Sanderson's hip, or her derriere,
or the side of her breast as she went past. How she had casually
leaned over her teacher's desk, offering the older woman a
tantalizing view of her young, firm breasts. Gina remembered
even better how Mrs. Sanderson had reacted to her sly and sexy
ministrations; the involuntary shudders, the sudden sucking in of
breath, and barely audible little mewing sounds of suppressed
desire she made. What fun; what great fun indeed Gina was having
abusing her oh so hungry teacher in this way. Gina could plainly
see it: the hunger in the older woman's eyes. Could it be
possible that teacher dear was ready for the next step.
Never one to let an opportunity to sink her claws in a little
deeper go by, Gina waited watchfully for Mrs. Sanderson furtively
to glance her way once again. Then she slowly and deliberately
spread her long satin smooth legs under her desk, pushing her
slit skirt wide open in a sort of natural pose of languid
relaxation.
Gina was certain that Mrs. Sanderson, standing at the front of
her row, could now see up her skirt all the way to her panty clad
crotch. The sudden jerk of her teacher's head and stumbling
pause in her droning lecture on first aid proved that Gina had
scored big time. Her next catch was wriggling on the hook, just
waiting to be reeled in.
On instinct as much as whim, Gina decided that today was the
perfect day to begin the long and heavenly process of bringing
Mrs. Sanderson under her complete sexual control. Mentally, Gina
licked her lips in wicked anticipation of all the degrading and
debasingly kinky things she would eventually coerce her teacher
into doing for her. Lost in her sensual daydream, She sat
quietly with her legs wide spread under her desk until the end of
class. Just keeping the hook baited and biding her time.
Gina was not the only girl in the classroom to notice that Mrs.
Sanderson continued to falter in the delivery of her lecture
whenever she chanced to look Gina's way. It was so obvious to
those girls who, because of their own similar experiences, knew
the telltale signs. Yes, yes. Mrs. Sanderson sure had a bad
case of it, all right.
Even Mrs. Sanderson's own awareness of her growing inability to
concentrate on her teaching could not prevent her from continuing
surreptitiously to look up Gina's skirt at every opportunity.
The other girls in the classroom who noted Mrs. Sanderson's
increased inability to focus on the subject at hand recognized
that, to all intents and purposes, their teacher had lost all
track of everything and everyone in the classroom in her
unabashedly urgent desire to feast her eyes on Gina's long tanned
legs just one more time. And then just one more time after that.
These girls exchanged smirks and knowing glances. Poor little
miss teacher has the hots for one of her girl students. How
sick.
Mrs. Sanderson didn't even notice them any more.
As she lost more and more of her self control and gave in to the
overwhelming need to see as much of Gina's siren legs as she
could, little beads of perspiration formed on Mrs. Sanderson's
forehead and upper lip. Gina delightedly watched as the little
drops of sweat fell from Mrs. Sanderson's flushed face onto her
white, high-collar blouse. This was even better than she had
hoped for. Her prey was most definitely hungry for her. That
fact was becoming increasingly evident as the class period wore
on. Gina was fascinating her teacher, just as a snake fascinates
its prey. Mrs. Sanderson was becoming increasingly powerless to
resist her.
While Mrs. Sanderson remained unaware of the effect her
distractedness was having on her class, Gina took full cognizance
of it and allowed a triumphant smirk to cross her angelic face.
The 17 year old saw right away that Mrs. Sanderson's stumbling
and fumbling was creating a salacious atmosphere in the classroom
and was having a predictable effect on the other girls. Some of
the more clever ones, especially Gina's best friend Gracie Pitts,
had long since figured out the cause of the poor, agitated
teacher's growing distress. But far from feeling any pity for
their enraptured teacher, these clever teenage girls began
daydreaming about how they themselves might one day cash in on
this new and perverse shift in power from Mrs. Sanderson to Gina
Ingalls. Only time would tell.
Suddenly the end of class bell rang and the spell was broken.
Thank heaven it was the final class of the day and the final day
of the week, with the weeklong Spring Break just ahead. The
classroom erupted in a flurry of sound and movement as the girls
scrambled for the door and freedom.
Gina leaned even further back in her desk chair, her long smooth
legs spread as wide apart as her slit skirt would allow, and
waited contentedly as the rest of the girls scrambled out of the
room. She acknowledged Gracie's wave of goodbye with a languid
smile and nod that made the other girl giggle. As the classroom
emptied out, the 17 year old allowed her mind to wander,
daydreaming once more, but this time about possible plans for the
next week; plans that most definitely involved her shy, quiet,
desperate little teacher lady.
Now was clearly the time to set her hook. However, Gina knew
that there was no rush. Mrs. Sanderson wasn't going anywhere
that Gina did not want her to go.
When there was no one left in the room but herself and her
teacher, Gina slowly stood up and strolled over to Mrs.
Sanderson's desk.
Mrs. Sanderson looked quizzically up at her student with the
beginnings of a tremble on her lips. Gina just stood there
beside the desk, smiling broadly and looking down at her teacher,
who was becoming thoroughly distracted by the physical closeness
of her tantalizing student. It was plain as day that Mrs.
Sanderson was turning increasingly anxious and unnerved having
Gina standing so close to her. The older woman instinctively sat
back further in her chair and tried valiantly to avoid eye
contact.
Instead of looking at Gina, Mrs. Sanderson glanced furtively back
and forth between the belt clasp at Gina's waist, which was at
her eye level, and the open door to her classroom. Gina saw the
confusion and uncertainty on her teacher's face and stepped back
a pace or two, allowing Mrs. Sanderson plenty of room to escape
if that was what she really wanted to do. Of course, Gina knew
that Mrs. Sanderson really didn't want to escape from her at all.
But she was willing to keep up the pretense that theirs was a
normal student-teacher relationship. For a little while longer,
at least.
Gina looked directly at her teacher as if to say 'leave or stay,
whatever you want. But it is your choice, and you will have to
live with the consequences.'
Fully aware of the meaning of Gina's gesture, Mrs. Sanderson
caught her breath and struggled to regain control of herself.
"Gina, dear; I think you had better leave now. I still have some
work to finish before Spring Break."
Instead of backing away any further, Gina slowly reached over and
touched the older woman lightly on her flushed cheek.
"But I don't wanna go right now, Mrs. Sanderson. I wanna stay
right here with you," the 17 year old said quietly but firmly.
The startled teacher just sat there stark still trying with all
her might not to look at her student. She didn't want to be
feeling the way Gina was making her feel. She didn't want to be
imagining the things Gina was making her imagine.
Gina just stood there, pouting down at her teacher.
Mrs. Sanderson finally got up enough energy to whisper "what did
you say, Gina?"
Gina allowed her long fingers to caress her teacher's jaw. Then
she slowly lifted Mrs. Sanderson's face and locked eyes withher.
"I want to stay here with you, Mrs. Sanderson."
The older woman had a purely panicked expression on her face.
"What do you want from me, Gina," Mrs. Sanderson asked with a
tremble in her voice.
Gina smiled serenely down at her teacher and whispered.
"Why you, of course, sweetie. I want you. I want to own you,
body and soul. I've wanted you since the first day I laid eyes
on you."
Mrs. Sanderson shook her head in disbelief. She could not
possibly have heard her student correctly. She tried to clear
her head. But Gina did not allow her anxious teacher time to
dwell on her last words or their salacious implications. Gina
knew that the best way to exert her will upon Mrs. Sanderson was
to keep the poor woman constantly off balance; always wondering,
always guessing, always hoping, always fearing.
"Are you going somewhere over break, Mrs. Sanderson?" Gina
sweetly coaxed.
The teacher gulped and answered.
"No.... No, I'm just staying home. A little quiet time torest."
There was a tinge of relief in Mrs. Sanderson's tone as she
answered Gina's rather conventional question about her plans for
Spring Break. Perhaps she had misunderstood the girl after all.
But there was also a hint of sadness in Mrs. Sanderson's voice as
some small part of her mind wished that she hadn't misunderstood
at all.
Gina perceived the sense of foreboding in Mrs. Sanderson as their
eyes met, but she also perceived the growing sense of longing as
well. She watched spellbound as the two emotions fought for
control inside her tormented teacher's mind. Gina could see the
struggle mirrored in Mrs. Sanderson's eyes. This was such a turn
on.
Gina could plainly discern Mrs. Sanderson's sweet anxiety at
having this delicious girl student standing so near with no one
else around. As the teacher's anxiety intensified, so did her
apparent hunger. Why did this young girl make her feel this way?
Why couldn't she break eye contact? Why did she so desperately
want the girl standing there to pay her some kind of lascivious
attention even though she knew it was wrong?
Mentally gritting her teeth, Mrs. Sanderson made one more attempt
to get hold of herself. How could she allow herself to be
thinking lascivious thoughts about one of her charges. Shame on
her. She had to reassert her status as Gina's teacher before
things really got completely out of hand. The teacher suddenly
straightened up in her seat and assumed a bold front.
"Please Gina," Mrs. Sanderson mustered her best teacher voice.
"You'll have to leave now."
Gina recognized by her shift in body language and the forced tone
of her voice that Mrs. Sanderson was attempting to regain control
over her emotions and desires. But that could not be allowed to
happen; now that Gina was so close to conquering her teacher and
turning her into a devoted sexual subservient.
The 17 year old shifted her stance, thus allowing her skirt to
slit up the side so that Mrs. Sanderson could see one of her
long, sleek legs almost all the way up to her crotch. The
stunned teacher gasped out loud at the erotic sight of her
student's sexy leg so close to her. This was what she craved.
She just couldn't deny it any longer. Teacher or not, Mrs.
Sanderson just had to have more of this girl's body to look at.
"Do you really want me to leave?"
Mrs. Sanderson looked up at her tormentress. Gina just stood
there aloof, the unspoken question hanging in the air between
them. Mrs. Sanderson finally lowered her eyes.
"No, Gina."
Gina slowly and deliberately reached out her hand and placed it
on the top of Mrs. Sanderson's shoulder. That mere touching sent
an overpowering charge of raw lust through Mrs. Sanderson's body
that shattered her bold demeanor into tiny fragments.
Gina pushed against Mrs. Sanderson's shoulder, bowing her over
until her cheek rested lightly against the young girl's skirt
covered thigh. Then Gina took her hand away and allowed her
teacher to remain just where she was. Mrs. Sanderson sighed
contentedly as the warmth of Gina's thigh suffused her cheek once
again through the material of her skirt.
Gina slowly pulled on the skirt until the material had parted to
uncover her naked thigh. Mrs. Sanderson's cheek was now resting
directly against thr smooth, warm thigh flesh. Mrs. Sanderson
whimpered again as animal lust began to suffuse her body.
"That's my good little teacher slut. You see, I don't want to
leave you just yet, Babygirl. I don't want to go anywhere right
now," Gina purred." "I want to stay right here with you."
Mrs. Sanderson sucked in her breath sharply as Gina replaced her
warm hand on her shoulder and began sliding it sensuously back
and forth along her teacher's back, teasingly close to her
slender neck.
"Now be a good girl and raise up for Gina so I can see your face,
baby."
As Mrs. Sanderson slowly resumed her upright position in her
chair, Gina's hand moved around the side of her neck to her front
and began softly rubbing her shoulder, then down toward her
collarbone and the top of her ample breast.
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered at the thought that if she did nothing
to stop her, Gina would very soon begin to take salacious
liberties with her body.
"Please, no," Mrs. Sanderson whispered. Her heart was fluttering
in her breast.
"Please don't go any further, Gina. Please."
Gina pouted down at her teacher.
"But I want to touch you, Babygirl. Oh, by the way. You don't
really mind if I call you Babygirl, do you. Since it's only just
the two of us, here, by ourselves and all. I kind of like it,
myselt. Don't you, Babygirl. You are my Babygirl, aren't you."
Mrs. Sanderson shivered, but didn't answer as Gina's fingers
pressed against her flesh, feather light and oh so sensual.
"Well, aren't you."
The teacher just sat there while Gina continued to rub her
shoulder.
"Yes," the older woman finally whispered.
"So you don't mind if I call you by my little pet name for you,
do you."
Mrs. Sanderson closed her eyes tight and shivered.
"I don't mind."
Gina giggled softly.
"I didn't really think you would, Babygirl."
Gina stared hard at her teacher as her hand slowly and
deliberately moved across her hunger heated flesh.
The teacher opened her eyes wide and gazed up timorously at her
tantalizing student.
"But please, don't look at me that way, Gina."
"Please don't," Mrs. Sanderson begged. Her neck and upper chest
were flushing with embarrassment.
Gina continued to move her hand slowly along her teacher's
shoulder.
"Why shouldn't I look at you that way, Babygirl. I've been
looking at you that way every day since I came in this classroom,
Mrs. Sanderson. And you have been looking at me that way, too.
Haven't you Babygirl.
Mrs. Sanderson tried with all her will to break eye contact with
her student, but she just couldn't manage it.
"Well, haven't you."
Mrs. Sanderson could not prevent the word from escaping herlips.
"Yes."
"You're such a nasty little teacher slut , aren't you. You know
how wrong it is to get the hots for one of your students. Yet,
despite knowing how wrong it is, you still have the hots for me,
don't you, sweetie."
Mrs. Sanderson began to cry softly.
"Oh yes. I know all there is to know about nasty little teacher
sluts like you. I know what you want me to let you do to me.
You want me to let you do really nasty things to me. I know you
do. And, guess what, I want it too, Babygirl. That's just why I
want to stay right here with you. And maybe, if you're a good
little girl, I'll let you do some of those really nasty things
you want to do."
Mrs. Sanderson began to tremble just like a frightened mouse
overshadowed by a hawk's wing.
Gina smiled and continued to move her hand around her teacher's
body. As her tears continued to fall, Mrs. Sanderson whimpered
at her student's salacious touch, but did nothing to make her
stop.
"I want to keep on touching your body, Babygirl. You see, I like
touching your big, grown up girl body. I like watching you
squirm and wriggle around in your seat when I touch you. I like
to watch you cry because you know how wrong and nasty it is to do
what we are doing right now. And I like to watch you let me do
it to you anyway."
Mrs. Sanderson's eyes glazed over. Sick desperate pangs of
sexual hunger rose up within her to overwhelm everything else.
Gina had said it. She actually 'liked' touching her teacher's
body. That meant that she might continue to touch her if the
older woman behaved herself and did everything she was told to
do. And that also meant that Gina might allow the older woman to
touch her as well. But Mrs. Sanderson was so very afraid; part
of her afraid of what Gina would do, and another part afraid of
what she wouldn't do. The emotional strain was almost too much
for the distracted teacher to bear. With a burst of desperate
will, Mrs. Sanderson forced herself to fight against hercraving.
"Please Gina; don't," the forlorn teacher whispered plaintively.
"I can't take it any more. I want you so much. Please stop.
Please, Gina."
Mrs. Sanderson knew deep in her soul that allowing her student to
touch her in this lewd manner was wrong, but her body's hungry
craving for the girl' s attention was driving her against her
will to overthrow her sense of right and wrong and beg her
student to continue to touch her as she was now.
Tears of frustration and shame flowed down her flushed cheeks and
her full lips began to tremble again.
Gina smiled.
"Stop what, little Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson looked up beseechingly.
"Please don't touch me any more. Please."
"But I like touching you. I already told you that, silly." Gina
smiled serenely down at her timorous teacher and continued slowly
and deliberately to move her hand along the older woman's
shoulder.
"You're such an insatiate little Babygirl, aren't you? Oh yes, I
can always tell. Despite all your protests, and despite all your
tears, and despite all your begging me to stop. I can just tell
that you are really enjoying this. Aren't you? You really don't
want me to stop, do you?"
"No, I'm not enjoying it at all," Mrs. Sanderson wailed as she
shook her head 'no' over and over. Yet her body continued to
wriggle at her student's salacious touch. The distraught
teacher's mind flashed a series of shame filled representations
of her surrendering herself unreservedly to the lewd whims of her
student. She just could not seem to drive these images out of
her head. Her obsession was taking over, blocking out her better
judgement.
Gina leaned her head down close to her teacher's ear.
"Now I'm going to ask you a nasty little question, Mrs.
Sanderson. And you have to answer me truthfully, no matter what.
Do you understand, Babygirl."
Oh God. What was she going to be forced by this girl to admit
to.
"Yes, Gina," Mrs. Sanderson replied in a monotone, as if she were
already hypnotized.
Gina leaned even lower and whispered right in her teacher's ear.
"Are you by any wild chance, Mrs. Sanderson, leaving a nasty
little wet spot on your desk chair?"
The distracted teacher blushed even deeper. It was true. She
could feel the sex moisture seeping out of her slit and through
her tight panties. She could not deny it to herself or to Gina.
"Yes," Mrs. Sanderson finally whispered her answer to Gina's
question.
Tears were still flowing over her cheeks, but the tremble of the
teacher's lips was less as she was becoming used to the idea of
Gina hovering over her like some bird of prey. Gina was now
certain from past experience that while her catch might continue
to fight the hook, she was well and truly caught. Now was the
time to reel her in.
"Please Gina, please," Mrs. Sanderson shuddered as she felt her
resistance melting away. "I don't want you to touch me any more.
Please. I really mean it this time."
"Why not, Babygirl."
"I just don't want you to. I just want to go home and have a
nice, quiet Spring Break."
"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you any more, Mrs.
Sanderson. Really sure." Gina slowly began removing her hand
from her teacher's shoulder. Here was the time of testing. By
pulling back Gina was giving her teacher an implicit ultimatum.
"Because if that's what you really want, Babygirl: I'll stop
right away, even though I really like touching you. And you like
it, too. Don't you. At least enough to get your sweet little
panties all wet for me over it. You already admitted that to
me."
Gina smiled sweetly and licked her full lips.
"And it does look to me like you really do want me to continue to
touch you. But, maybe I'm wrong after all."
Gina's voice was husky with lust.
"I know that you look at me in class like you're really hot for
me, and from the way you look at me, I really think you do want
me to touch you some more. Don't you think so too, you nasty
little Babygirl, you."
Mrs. Sanderson hesitated, confusion, anxiety, and embarrassment
all over her flushed face. As Gina stepped away from her, the
hunger suddenly grew strong within her body and soul. She really
did have the hots for her student, just like Gina said. She
really didn't want this sexy young girl to take her hand away.
Her conscience was now in full retreat.
"Uhmmm, Gina," Mrs. Sanderson whispered. "Perhaps I was a bit
hasty after all."
Gina smiled ever so sweetly, placed her soft hand right back on
her teacher's shoulder, and began moving her open palm in large
circles on her teacher's shoulder. Now she was actually touching
Mrs. Sanderson's breast just at the beginning of the swell.
"So now you're telling me that you do want me to touch you some
more, is that right, Mrs. Sanderson."
Mrs. Sanderson shook herself, trying to clear her head.
"Yes Gina; I think so."
Mrs. Sanderson was speaking so softly that Gina almost could not
hear her.
"You think so, Babygirl?"
"Yes, Gina."
"You think so?"
Gina's hand slowly petted her teacher's flesh; teasing,
tantalizing, tormenting with lewd promise of unmentionable things
yet to come.
"So then you do really have the hots for me. Don't you."
A hot tear streamed down Mrs. Sanderson's cheek. No matter what
it cost her later, she just had to have more of Gina's hand on
her body right now.
"Yes I do. Please...."
Gina smirked down at her ravenous teacher.
"Please what?"
"Please touch me some more."
"So now you want me to keep touching you; is that right, you
nasty little Babygirl, you. You're so bad. Do you know that?
Letting one of your own students feel you up like the horny
little slut you are."
The need for Gina's sensual touch was growing uncontrollable
within Mrs. Sanderson despite her now feeble attempts to thwart
it. The desire to surrender was now so great.
"Yes, Gina. Please keep touching me. Yes, please."
Gina smiled her sweetest smile.
"But isn't it being really bad for a teacher like you to beg one
of her students to feel her up."
Mrs. Sanderson knew Gina was right. But she could not resist her
any longer.
"Yes, Gina. I'm bad. I'm very, very bad. But please keep
touching me. Please."
Gina smiled again.
"You want to be a bad girl with me. Don't you."
"Yes," Mrs. Sanderson hissed.
"Ok, you bad little Babygirl. I'll play with you some more.
Now, just where is it that you want me to touch you."
Mrs. Sanderson hesitated again. She didn't want to have to say
anything at all. She just wanted Gina to feel her up. But the
look in her domineering student's eyes told her she had to say it
out loud or Gina would stop right then.
"Anywhere."
"Anywhere, Babygirl?"
"Yes Gina, anywhere."
"Anywhere at all, Mrs. Sanderson?"
"Yes, Gina. Anywhere at all."
"You mean you really, really want me to touch you some more,
Babygirl."
"Yes, Gina," Mrs. Sanderson whispered; shuddering in a welter of
lust and fear.
Gina stopped moving her hand and let it press against the top of
the teacher's breast. Mrs. Sanderson started at the sudden
cessation of Gina's hand movement.
"You're such a nasty little Babygirl. Aren't you, Mrs.
Sanderson? A teacher like you actually begging one of her
students to feel her up."
Mrs. Sanderson sucked in her breath but said nothing.
"Aren't you a nasty little Babygirl," Gina insisted.
Gina was making it plain as day that if Mrs. Sanderson wanted any
more attention from the girl she would have to say it.
"Aren't you?"
"Yes, Gina."
"Yes, what."
Mrs. Sanderson gulped.
"Yes. I'm such a nasty little Babygirl."
Gina looked the older woman straight in the eye.
"That's right. You're a nasty little Babygirl. But whose nasty
little Babygirl are you from now on, Mrs. Sanderson?"
Gina's hard eyes bored into the very soul of her frightened
teacher.
"Tell me this minute, teacher dear. Or else I'll stop feeling
you up right now."
Mrs. Sanderson shook her head.
"Tell me, or I'll stop. I mean it."
The teacher shuddered.
"I'm your nasty little Babygirl, Gina."
"And that means you want me to touch you anywhere on your entire
nasty little Babygirl teacherslut body, doesn't it, Babygirl."
The emotional floodgates opened. Mrs. Sanderson made her
decision.
"Yes." Mrs. Sanderson whimpered.
The distracted teacher looked down at Gina's hand that was now
most definitely touching her large, heaving breast through the
thin material of her blouse. Oh how desperately she craved more
of Gina's sweet, salacious attention. Nothing else in the whole
world mattered to her just then, nothing at all.
"You mean I can touch your Babygirl nose, or your Babygirl ears,
or your Babygirl fingers, or your Babygirl legypoos, or even your
little Babygirl piggytoes," Gina giggled down at her tormented
teacher.
Mrs. Sanderson nodded her head in accent.
"Yes, Gina."
"Are you sure, teacher dear?"
"Yes, Gina."
"Now are you really, really sure?"
"Yes, Gina."
"Then go ahead and beg me for it, teacherslut. Go on. Beg me to
touch you. Beg like the nasty little babyslut you are. You know
you want to. You know you've got to have it right now."
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered to her very soul. But then, she came to
understand that she really had no choice but to beg.
"Please, Gina. Please, please touch me. I'm begging you to
touch me."
Gina put her other hand against her teacher's tear streaked cheek
and slid her palm along it until her fingers rested against Mrs.
Sanderson's full lips.
"Suck my finger, Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson immediately opened her mouth and Gina pushed her
index finger inside. Mrs. Sanderson closed her lips around the
finger and began to suck on it hungrily.
"Now lick my finger for me, you nasty little Babygirl, you."
The older woman ran her ravenous tongue around and around the
intruding finger that Gina was now sliding slowly in and out of
her mouth.
"That's a good girl," Gina cooed as she patted her teacher's
head, just as she would an obedient pet. Then she placed her
hand back on the older woman's shoulder so she could keep
stroking the hot flesh. Then Gina removed her finger from her
teacher's warm wet mouth and placed it against her teacher's
face, Mrs. Sanderson jerked her head as if she had been slapped.
"I don't understand," the teacher whispered, even though she had
indeed understood enough by now to know at lease something of
what her student wanted from her.
"Yes you do, Babygirl. You understand as much as you need to
right now. You understand everything I'm saying to you. And you
know what it means for you, too. Don't you?"
Mrs. Sanderson lowered her eyes, admitting by her body language
that she did know, or at least she suspected.
"Yes, Gina. I understand."
And you understand that you want this to happen. Don't you,
Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson could only nod in agreement.
"Good girl. And now I want to see your body, teacher dear.
We'll start with those long, sweet teacher leggypoos of yours,
Babygirl, and I mean all the way up to your crotch, too. Don't
you want me to look at your long, sweet, big girl leggypoos,
Babygirl. Don't you want to know whether I think you've got sexy
teacher legs or not."
Gina roughly shoved her finger back into her willing teacher's
mouth. Mrs. Sanderson began to suck her student's fingers as
hard as she could. Her confused mind fogged over with an
irresistible urge to obey. Wanton, salacious, submissive images
flashed through the agitated teacher's fevered brain.
"Ummmmm hummmmm," Mrs. Sanderson hummed her assent from around
Gina's stabbing finger.
"Good. That's my good little Babygirl."
Just as suddenly, Gina jerked her finger out of Mrs. Sanderson's
mouth once again.
"Now slide all the way back in your chair, precious, and push
back from the desk like the good little exhibitionist slut you
are, Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson immediately slid back in her desk chair and rolled
it back from the desk until she was well away from it. Oh how
she wanted to obey and please this sexy teenage girl with whom
she was now so utterly obsessed.
As Mrs. Sanderson slid back from her desk, Gina removed her hand
from her teacher's shoulder. While Mrs. Sanderson was most
definitely desolated by the loss of her student's tantalizing
hand, she reveled in the knowledge that very soon now, she would
be showing the girl her long, smooth legs. She so desperately
hoped that Gina liked them; approved of them.
"That's right, baby. Now be a good little slutbaby and pull that
skirt of yours all the way up to your waist so I can get a real
good look at your legs. You do want me to admire your legs.
Don't you, sweetie. You do want me to think they're sexy."
Mrs. Sanderson blushed all over her body as she did as Gina
instructed. When she had rooked her skirt hem to her waist, Gina
placed her hand on the top of her teacher's tanned, smooth thigh,
and then she slid it slowly and possessively all the way from her
knee to her panty-covered crotch.
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered at the wanton touch of her student's
hand. Oh how she needed that hand on her leg, and oh how she
hoped that Gina would not be content merely to stop there.
"Mine, all mine," Gina cooed softly to herself as she felt up her
teacher's well muscled thighs and all around her panty gusset.
Her fingers teased their way up and down, then along the inner
thigh to the very top of the leg.
"You know, Babygirl. I juat can't help but admit it. You really
do have sexy leggypoos. Isn't that lucky for me. And aren't
these sexy leggypoos of yours all mine, Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson beamed with joy when she heard that her student
thought she had sexy legs.
"Yes, Gina."
"Now say it right for me, Babygirl, or I'll stop feeling you up
right this very minute."
Mrs. Sanderson knew she would just die if Gina stopped feeling
her up.
"Yes, Gina. My sexy legs are all yours."
Gina giggled softly again, then suddenly turned very serious.
Her hand slid up along her teacher's blouse-covered midriff.
"And do I understand you correctly, Babygirl. You agree that I
can touch you anywhere and everywhere on this hot teacherslut
Babygirl bod of yours that I want to."
Mrs. Sanderson was shocked by Gina's language, but she just had
to have more of the girl's erotic fondling.
"Yes, Gina," the older woman whispered.
"Even these big udders of yours."
Before Mrs. Sanderson could answer, Gina had quickly unbuttoned
the top two buttons of Mrs. Sanderson's blouse and was sliding
her forefinger down into her open blouse along the deep cleavage
between the two firm breasts."
Mrs. Sanderson was so very hungry. She just had to have more of
Gina's lewd attention.
"Yes, Gina."
"How about your plump Babygirl buttybutt. You've waved that sexy
thing in my face enough times to make me really want to feel your
butt up. Don't you want me to, Babygirl. Don't you want me to
feel up your nice, sexy butt. Maybe even spankiepoo it for you
when you've really been a bad girl."
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered again, partly from Gina's words and
partly from the erotic sensations the 17-year-old's fingers were
causing in the older woman. She just had to have more.
"Yes, Gina."
"And do I understand that I can even feel up your furry little
Babygirl pusspuss and your tight little Babygirl butthole if I
want to, hmmmmmmm."
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered all over her body as her irrepressible
sexual need decided the matter for her. She just had to have
Gina's hands on her. There was no turning back for her at this
point. She simply had to have Gina's hands all over her;
anywhere Gina wanted; anytime Gina wanted.
"Yes, Gina, anywhere you want."
"And any time I want, Babygirl."
"Yes, Gina; any time you want."
Gina raised herself up and removed her exploring hand from inside
her teacher's blouse.
"Well. Now that that's settled I want you to pull those silly
teacher panties of yours down those sexy legs like a good little
slut and show me your nasty little pussy. I might just possibly
want to touch it. That is, if I think it's sexy enough."
A great sigh of expectation escaped the older woman's lips as she
shamelessly reached down, lifted her butt off the chair and slid
her pale white panties off her hips down to her knees, just as if
she were about to take a pee in the women's room.
Gina could plainly see that her teacher's vagina was surmounted
with soft brown curls that matched her hair color. The 17 year
old smiled broadly.
"So you are a natural, huh. You bad old teacher slut. Some of
the other girls in class have been wondering. Now I can tell
them that I know you are a natural for sure."
"Yes, Gina," Mrs. Sanderson whispered.
"Maybe I'll even let some of them see for themselves. Don't you
think it would be a sexy trip for me to make you to show off your
nasty little teacher beaver to some of my girlfriends."
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered. Where was this all going?
"Well. Wouldn't it."
Mrs. Sanderson gulped.
"Yes, Gina."
"Now spread your leggypoos as far as you can, teacher dear so I
can play with your sexy pussypussy. I guess you have a sexy
enough pusspuss,... for a teacher, that is."
Mrs. Sanderson immediately did as she was told, a wave of longing
and wanton need washing over her flushed skin. She just couldn't
wait to feel Gina's fingers on her sex.
Gina slid her fingers lightly through the soft fur on her
teacher's mons but did not press her advantage by actually
feeling the pudendum. Mrs. Sanderson raised her hips off the
desk chair and whimpered in frustration at not being felt up as
she had hoped, but she stayed pretty still and prayed with all
her might that Gina would finally satisfy her urgent desire to be
intimately fondled and caressed.
Gina understood her teacher's desperate need, but only kept up
her sensual playing with the older woman's bush. She wanted her
teacher in a state of near hysteria with hunger for the sexual
release that only the 17 year old could provide her.
Mrs. Sanderson whimpered louder than before.
Gina stopped altogether.
Mrs. Sanderson thrust her pelvis against her student's hand again
and wantonly moved it back and forth.
"Please, Gina. Pleeeeeease."
Gina looked at her teacher and giggled.
"Do you want something, Babygirl?"
Mrs. Sanderson did not want to say out loud what she needed so
badly for Gina to do to her. She just wanted Gina to pet her
without having to beg for it. But Gina was not going to let her
off that easy.
The 17 year old snatched at a few tufts of her teacher's pubic
fur and pulled on them until Mrs. Sanderson squealed out inpain.
"I said, do you want something from me, teacher dear."
Mrs. Sanderson was getting the message loud and clear. If she
wanted Gina to continue her lewd attentions, she would really
have to beg for them."
"Please, Gina. Oh please. I need for you to... to... play with
me."
Gina continued viciously to tug on her teacher's pubic hair.
"But I am playing with you, you, bad girl. I'm having a lot of
fun playing with you. I like playing with your pusspuss hair and
hearing you squeal when I pull it. You don't want me to stop, do
you."
The older woman lowered her head and looked at her tormentor's
fingers once again stroking her bush in a manner that did nothing
but inflame her all the more. God, she just had to have it now.
"Please, please, Gina. I mean I need for you to play... inside
me."
Gina smiled and placed her fingertip at the very edge of the
cleft in her teacher's moist outer lips. Then, after tickling
the outer edge unmercifully with her fingernail, the 17 year old
slowly inserted her long index finger deep into the gaping, soppy
hole.
"Do you mean like this, sweetie," Gina cooed.
Gina slowly slid the finger back out until only the very tip was
inside.
Mrs. Sanderson sighed gratefully and opened her thighs even more,
panting with unfulfilled desire as Gina continued to diddle her.
Gina smiled evilly and suddenly jabbed her finger as deep as it
would go into her teacher's slick quim. Then she began rotating
it until the older woman began writhing in near orgasmic bliss.
Gina smiled even deeper and used her long fingernail to scratch
the super sensitive mucus membrane deep inside until Mrs.
Sanderson squealed out once again from the burning, itching pain
her student was causing her. Still, the teacher knew enough by
now not to attempt to get away from her tormentor's cruelfinger.
When Gina had heard enough squeals and whimpers from her teacher
to satisfy her for the moment, she suddenly removed her
secretion-covered finger from Mrs. Sanderson's super sensitive
canal.
"Now lift up for me, bad girl, so I can play with that puckery
little teacher rosette of yours. I just can't wait to stick this
slicky finger of mine way up my sweet teacher's botty hole."
Despite her driving need for Gina's lewd attention, Mrs.
Sanderson just could not believe her ears. Gina couldn't really
want to play with her little butthole, could she? The teacher
was too mortified with shame and incredulity to do as she was
ordered. She just sat there in her chair and shook her head
'no.'
"Raise up, my nasty little slut muffin, or so help me I'll never
play with you again, ever. I want to play with your tight little
butt hole 'cause that will prove beyond doubt just what a
complete teacherslut you are. I don't want there to be any doubt
in your mind about what a nasty little grown up girl you are. I
know you want to continue getting felt up, and I know you want to
prove to me just how slutty you are."
Mrs. Sanderson looked up at her student and knew by her
expression that it was true. She had already come too far to
stop now. She knew that if she wanted Gina's salacious attention
to continue, she must submit to any indignity the girl demanded.
And she definitely wanted Gina to continue feeling her up.
Slowly and resignedly, Mrs. Sanderson raised herself out of her
chair so her student could play her soppy finger all over the
vulnerable little pucker hole.
Gina giggled as she tickled and scratched around her teacher's
exposed fundament, watching her squirm and flush with shame and
embarrassment.
"Oh that's such a good little teacher slut. I just love playing
with her little slutty butty butt. She's so bad. Isn't she?"
Gina slid her finger around the little pucker and back and forth
along the moist crack. Then she raised herself back up to a
standing position.
"OK, pet. Fun's over for a while. You were a really obedient
little slutty wutty, weren't you, girl.
Mrs. Sanderson bowed her head in shame as she sat back down.
"Yes Gina."
Mrs. Sanderson was absolutely mortified by her lewd behavior and
by what she had just submitted herself to. But she knew that
Gina had proven her point beyond doubt.
"OK, girl. You can pull your panties back up now and sit back in
your chair like a good little Babygirl."
Immediately, Mrs. Sanderson did as she was instructed. As she
adjusted her clothes, the older woman looked up plaintively at
her student.
"You like me to put my hands on you; don't you, Mrs. Sanderson.
You like for me to feel you up. I can tell by how wet youwere."
Mrs. Sanderson could do nothing but nod her head in agreement.
"You know you want it, Babygirl," whispered Gina as she leaned
over toward her helpless teacher's right ear.
"You know you need it, too, Babygirl. You just can't go another
minute without it, hmmmmmmmmm, Babygirl."
"I know that you've wanted me to make love to you ever since I
first came in this classroom of yours. You do want me, Babygirl,
don't you?"
"It's OK. You can tell me that you want me, Babygirl. I won't
mind at all."
"In fact, I want you to want me, and you know you want the same
thing. You want to want me, too."
Gina's lips were right against her teacher's earlobe.
"I want you to want me real bad, sweetie. Real bad."
Mrs. Sanderson whimpered and shivered. It was true, all true.
She did want the young, sexy girl really badly.
"You know that I saw you looking at my legs today, Babygirl;
looking up my skirt; looking at my tight little panties; looking
at my yummy crotch. You just couldn't keep your slutty little
teacher eyes off me, could you, baby."
"Do you know that you made me so wet when you looked at me. Do
you know that, Babygirl. I bet you could see just how wet you
made me. I bet you could even see my sweet, puffy, wet pussy
lips right through my panties because you made me so wet. I bet
that turned you on, seeing my sweet little pussy lips right
through my wet panties, didn't it, baby."
"I bet you could even smell me. Couldn't you, you bad girl. I
bet you sniffed the air like a dog in heat trying to smell me as
hard as you could."
Mrs. Sanderson just nodded dumbly. It was all true.
"And you know what. I like it a whole lot when sexy sweet little
grown up women like you look at me that way. It always makes me
soooo wet. Did you know that my little panty gusset is soaking
wet right now, Babygirl. And it's all your fault."
Gina was whispering the wanton words right into her teacher's
ear. She licked salaciously around the older woman's earlobe to
emphasize what she was saying.
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered yet again as Gina's warm breath brushed
against her ear. Oh how she wanted to let go completely and give
in totally, but a part of her was still so very, very afraid.
"You just couldn't keep your eyes off me, could you, Babygirl."
Gina insisted on an answer.
Mrs. Sanderson sank deeper into her chair. Her mind was in such
a turmoil of fear and need.
"No." Mrs. Sanderson let it out in a long sign.
"No what."
"No, Gina. I couldn't keep my eyes off you."
"You like looking at my sexy legs so much, don't you."
"Yes, Gina."
"And you like looking at my sweet wet pussy through my panties,
too, don't you, Babygirl."
"Yes, Gina."
"You like knowing that you made me soooo wet looking at me, don't
you, Babygirl."
"Yes, Gina. I like looking at you."
"You want me very much right now, don't you, Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson had to admit to herself that she really did want
the young girl to make love to her. A part of her still knew
that it was oh so very wrong, but she wanted it anyway. All
these years she had been able to control her secret fantasies.
To keep herself from making a big mistake by indulging her most
intimate desires. . But Gina had seen through her right away.
"Yes, Gina."
"And yon need for me to take charge of you from now on, don't
you, Babygirl. You need it because you are really just a slutty
submissive little Babygirl who needs to be owned and controlled
by a sexy teenage fox just like me."
Mrs. Sanderson knew deep in her soul that Gina was right. She
could feel the resistance seeping out of her through the hole
Gina had made in her conscience.
"Yes, Gina."
"You need it real bad. Don't you. Go on. Admit it to me right
now."
The older woman licked her lips in hopeful anticipation.
"Yes, Gina."
"And you need for me to feel you up all over your little Babygirl
body, and play sick little games with your head, and do all sorts
of nasty little evil things to your body, and make you do all
sorts of nasty little evil things to me, too; don't you,
Babygirl. You can't live without it another minute. Can you.
You just have to have it right now."
Mrs. Sanderson wriggled in her chair. All her secret desires
that had been repressed for so long were now breaking loose
inside her soul.
"Yes, Gina."
Gina smiled her wicked smile and patted her teacher's head.
"That's my good little Babygirl,"
Gina seductively encouraged her miserable teacher to continue by
letting her fingers tousle caressingly through the older woman's
hair.
"Go on Mrs. Sanderson; tell me." Gina was now so close to her
teacher that their bodies were almost touching.
Mrs. Sanderson's resistance melted completely away. It was
clearly time for her to confess her need to Gina. Openly and
completely.
"Yes, Gina. I need you to take charge of me. I want you so much
I just can't stand it anymore. I want to make love with you so
much. I just can't keep my eyes off your legs anymore, or the
rest of you. Oh Gina, you have such beautiful legs; so long and
smooth. I love looking at your body. I want to hold you so
close and make sweet love to you. I want you to make love to me,
too. Oh God, Gina. You are so sexy. I can't stand it anymore.
I want you."
Mrs. Sanderson practically broke down. Her sobs wracked her
body. Her desperate need nearly overwhelmed her, now that she
had finally acknowledged it.
"Yes, teacher dear. You really do want me." Gina giggled because
she knew that she was winning. And she knew that Mrs. Sanderson
had still more to confess to her.
"And what else do you want, Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson struggled not to say the next sentence but she
just could not stop herself any longer.
"I just can't keep my eyes off your panties, any longer, Gina. I
just can't seem to stop myself from looking up your skirt."
"Do you mean my wet panties, you bad girl?"
"Yes. I can't keep my eyes off your wet panties."
"Why, baby."
"Please don't make me say why." Mrs. Sanderson looked up
pleadingly.
"Why."
"Because I want you. I've already said that. Please don't make
me say any more."
"Because you want me, Babygirl."
"Yes."
"What do you want to do to me, Mrs. Sanderson?"
"I can't say it. Please don't make me say it, please"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO TO ME, MRS. SANDERSON?"
"I want to... taste you."
"You want to taste me, Babygirl."
"Yes."
"With your long, pink teacher tongue."
"Yes."
"You want to lick my tasty little big girl pusspuss with your
long, wet, slutty old teacher tongue. Don't you."
"Yes," Mrs. Sanderson sobbed.
"And you want to lick me all up, don't you, Babygirl. I bet you
want to lick up every last drop of my sweet cream."
"Yes, Gina."
"You want to lick me all up from my ittie bittie stiffie clittie
all the way back to my tight, pink bottbott hole, don't you, you
nasty little Babygirl, you."
"Yes, Gina. God, I want to taste you soooooo bad."
"How bad."
Mrs. Sanderson clamped her mouth shut. This just had to stop
right now before she was totally lost.
"How bad, Babygirl."
Mrs. Sanderson just couldn't seem to resist.
"Oh Gina; so very, very bad."
"Very, very bad."
"Yes. Very, very bad."
"Enough to let me play with you anytime I want from now on if I
give you my permission to taste my sweet little pusspuss."
"I don't understand." Mrs. Sanderson pleaded with her voice and
with her eyes.
"You don't understand, Babygirl. For a teacher, you're not very
smart are you."
Mrs. Sanderson nodded her head in silent agreement. She was not
very smart at all when she was around Gina.
"Then I'll explain it to you, stupid. You see, you're mine now.
All mine. And if I let you lick me all around my sweet little
pusspuss with that nasty teacher slutty tongue of yours like you
want to, and if, from time to time, I want to play with you,
you're going to let me. Aren't you, Babygirl. "
Mrs. Sanderson was dazed.
"Play with me."
"Yes, you know. Feel you up, neck with you, pet you, fondle you,
caress you, molest you, abuse you, maybe even give you a little
morsel of slut pain to remember me by. Now do you understand."
Mrs. Sanderson hesitated once more while she thought of the
overwhelming implications of what Gina was asking. But her deep
sexual hunger just could not be denied. Images of other teenage
girls flashed through her brain, and Mrs. Sanderson smoldered
with desire when she thought of them and what any one of them
might have done to her and made her do had they only made the
effort. The effort that Gina was making now. Mrs. Sanderson
made her decision.
"Yes, Gina. You may play with me any time you like so long as I
get to taste you."
Gina smirked down at her teacher.
"Well, Mrs. Sanderson, that's really big of you, but you see this
really isn't a trade at all. The fact of the matter is that I'm
going to play with you any time I want to, like it or not. Just
like I just did. You already said I could. Remember. And I'm
going to play with you from now on anytime I want to. You see,
Babygirl, I know what you are. I know everything that matters
about you. I've known since I first laid eyes on you. And you
needn't deny it. And you needn't deny either that you're going
to thoroughly enjoy every little thing I do to you, and
everything I make you do to me. And you needn't deny either that
in the process you are going to fall head over heels in love with
me if you're not there already."
"And, maybe, but only if and when I feel like it, sometimes, for
my own pleasure alone, that is, you will be permitted the
incredible privilege of tasting me. Do you understand me
completely, my little teacher slut."
Gina's pose suddenly shifted from coercive and teasing to
insistent.
"Well, do you."
Mrs. Sanderson finally realized that she had no choice in the
matter whatsoever. Gina clearly knew everything there was to
know about Mrs. Sanderson and her secret desires and fantasies,
and there was nothing in the world that the teacher could do now
about it. The older woman bowed her head in resignedsubmission.
"Yes, Gina. I understand completely."
"Then tell me that you want me, you nasty little teacher slut;
right this very minute."
"Yes, I want you," whispered Mrs. Sanderson meekly, hardly aware
of her own voice as Gina licked sensuosly around the edge of her
ear in a sly effort to make her teacher surrender more readily.
As Gina continued to lick, a surge of erotic hunger encompassed
the distraught teacher's nether regions. Half of her hoped that
Gina would not notice her growing excitement, and the other half
prayed that she would.
"Do you really." Gina purred in a low, enticing voice.
"Oh yes. Yes I do. You know I do." Mrs. Sanderson shuddered
once more as Gina flicked her tongue down the side of her slender
neck.
"Do you want me very much, Mrs. Sanderson. Do you."
"Oh yes, Gina. More than anything else in the world. Can't you
tell?. Haven't I proved it to you by what I've already let you
do to me."
Tears of shame were burning Mrs. Sanderson's flushed cheeks as
she made this perverse admission to her sexy student. This was
so wrong she knew. But the hunger in her loins forced her to
confess it all.
"I know, Babygirl. I know," said Gina in a falsely comforting
tone as she stroked the older woman's hair.
"But you love me so much you can't live without me another
minute. Can you, Babygirl."
"No." Mrs. Sanderson moaned, "But I don't want to."
"Well, isn't that just too bad for you." Gina smirked as she
reached out her hand and pressed her index finger against one of
Mrs. Sanderson's hardened nipples straining against the thin
material of her partly opened white blouse.
Gina pressed Mrs. Sanderson's rock hard nipple with her fingertip
with no more concern than if she were pushing a button on an
elevator.
"Please." Mrs. Sanderson shuddered again as big tears of shame
and desperation rolled down her cheeks.
"Please what, sweetie." Gina sighed in feigned exasperation.
"Please don't do that."
"Don't do what."
"Please don't play with my nipple like that."
Gina giggled.
"You mean you would rather I play with it like this," she said
softly as she began tweaking the nipple between thumb and
forefinger.
"Oh no, please Gina, no. It hurts me when you do that.
Mrs. Sanderson squealed and tried to pull away. Gina's punishing
fingers just kept up the pinching agony.
"Oh, Gina. Stop, please. You're hurting me."
"I know. That's why I'm doing it. You see, I want to give you
some pain along with the pleasure I am obviously giving you by
feeling you up this way. You must be made to understand that
giving you pain gives me pleasure. You do understand that.
Don't you."
Mrs. Sanderson nodded her head as Gina stopped pinching her
nipple and patted her cheek.
"And soon, my little submissive teacher slut pussy, sooner than
you can ever imagine, my giving you pain will give you pleasure,
too. Someday, you will need the pain I give you as much as you
need the pleasure now."
"But."
"But what."
Mrs. Sanderson struggled like a moth caught in a candle flame.
"But if I give in to you, if I surrender myself, my career as a
teacher, my life, everything will be destroyed."
"Your point being." Gina laughed softly as she began tweaking
Mrs. Sanderson's other nipple. "It's already too late to save
your career here, silly willy. I saw the way Gracie and the
other girls in class looked at you when they knew that you wanted
me so badly. You don't think I'll ever let them forget it as I
tease you every day in class like I did today. You don't think
I'll ever let you get back to where you were before, do you. Now
that you've admitted you want me and you need me. Now that I can
make you want me real bad any time I desire."
Mrs. Sanderson looked around her classroom distractedly.
"But I still want to teach here." she let out a little whimper.
"So. You like teaching here, Mrs. Sanderson."
"Yes Gina."
"Do you want to keep on teaching here?"
"Yes Gina, very much."
Mrs. Sanderson's heart began to pound in her chest. She was
suddenly very afraid again.
"Then I guess you had better get used to the idea of doing
whatever I tell you to do from now on. Otherwise, I'll make it
so hard for you here in this classroom that you'll go crazy.
I'll tease you and turn you on so hard that you won't be able to
stand it. You'll babble during class like an idiot just like you
did today, and you won't be able to teach a thing. Then I'll get
you fired from here in such a nasty sick way that you'll never be
able to teach anywhere else again as long as you live. Do you
get my meaning?"
Mrs. Sanderson had slid back into her chair as far as she could
go. Her throat was brick dry with terror.
"From now on, you will do whatever I say in this classroom, or
I'll make sure you never teach anywhere ever again. Now I want
you to agree to do whatever nasty little things I tell you to do
in this classroom from now on. And you better do it quickly, or
else."
Mrs. Sanderson knew full well that she had better agree right
away or suffer the dire consequences.
"Yes, Gina. I will do whatever you say from now on in this
classroom. What do you want from me."
"What I want, Mrs. Sanderson is for you to voluntarily agree to
be my submissive little teacher slut puppy from right this minute
until I get tired of you and finally spit you out. I want to
hear it from your very own grown up woman lips that you agree
that I own you, body and soul. I want you to please me totally,
sexually and every other way I can think of. I want you to
surrender your will to me completely. I want you to give me free
access to your nasty little Babygirl body at any time to do any
little sick perverted thing I want you to do. Is that clear
enough for you, bitchslut."
Mrs. Sanderson's pulse was racing a mile a minute. She was so
scared, but Gina's lewd words had also gotten her so very turned
on.
"Well Mrs. Sanderson, do you agree."
The fear struggled against the need and won, momentarily.
"But how long, Gina. How long do you want to own me?"
Gina smiled.
"Why for as long as I want to, silly willy. Now, make up your
mind quickly."
Gail Sanderson made her decision.
"Yes Gina, I agree." Mrs. Sanderson almost lost it totally as she
envisioned what her life was going to be like from now on. The
humiliation. The degradation.
"Well then. If you agree, why don't you beg me for it like the
nasty little teacher slut you really are."
Mrs. Sanderson shook her head, trying to exert just one last tiny
morsel of self-control.
"Come on, Babygirl," Gina taunted quietly, now ever so sure now
that she was finally winning the battle of wills.
"You know you want to, baby."
Mrs. Sanderson let the nastysick sensations brought on by Gina's
provocative words and Gina's tantalizing hands wash over her.
She knew that if she begged just right, Gina would take control
of her, and she could let go and be what she had always been
meant to be: her student's willing, complicit, submissive little
Babygirl teacher slut.
"Please, Gina. Please make me do anything you want me to.
Please take charge of me. Please take me under your control.
Please, please, oh God, please."
Gina smiled radiantly down at her new conquest.
"That's my little Babygirl," Gina cooed as she gently caressed
and fondled her submissive teacher's body.
Then Gina's voice suddenly became harsh and insistent as were her
hands. She roved all over Mrs. Sanderson's blouse, squeezing her
ample breasts through the thin clinging material and unbuttoning
her completely.
"No. Please, please stop this." Mrs. Sanderson cried aloud,
suddenly acutely aware of the dire and dangerous predicament she
was getting herself into.
Gina slapped her hard on the cheek.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
"Don't you ever say 'no' to me, ever again, baby slut. You've
already agreed that I own you, and there's no taking it back."
Mrs. Sanderson slumped back in her chair, stark terror written
all over her face.
"You think that you're the only one I'm interested in, bitch; but
you are so very, very wrong. Yes, I want to own you body and
soul, its true, and it seems from what you just agreed to that I
now in fact do own you, whether you like it or not. But I'm also
going to own some of the other subby little girls in this school
and you're going to help me get them. And some of the subby
little teachers, too. I have some really sick little pervy plans
laid on for you and them. I just adore making big girls and
little girls do the nasty with each other. Won't that be just
peachy, huh?"
"Please don't do this to me. Don't make me do this." Mrs.
Sanderson was sobbing again.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?"
Mrs. Sanderson panicked at the sound of Gina's threatening words
and harsh tone of voice. She slumped even further into her chair
and bowed her head in fearful resignation to her fate.
"Yes, Gina. That will be just peachy for you to make me bring
you other little subby girls from school and even some of the
teachers as well."
Seeing that she had indeed won the battle and had broken her
teacher's will thoroughly, Gina became angry and insistent.
"Very good baby cow. Now lets continue our little tour of your
big girl teacher slut body. I want to see your udders, and I
want to see them right now. If you know what's good for you,
you'll shut up your bawling and just sit there and let me play
with you some more, you slut."
Mrs. Sanderson suddenly panicked. Gina's words were making her
hysterical. She pushed against the arms of her desk chair and
was halfway out of it when she felt Gina's hand slapping her
across the face hard.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
"You silly bitch." Gina shouted. "Where do you think you're
going?"
Mrs. Sanderson cried bitter tears of resignation as she fell back
into her chair. Seeing the absolute futility of further
resistance against Gina's dominating personality, the distraught
teacher slumped down in the chair once more to await her fate.
Gina was breathing heavy a she glared down at her terrorized
teacher.
"From now on, you'd better behave. Do you understand me?"
Mrs. Sanderson looked pale and terrified.
"Yes. I'll behave myself. I'll be a good little Babygirl for
you," croaked Mrs. Sanderson.
"I'll be very good. I want to be a good little Babygirl for you,
Gina."
"You better, or I'll have to punish you severely."
"And wouldn't that be such wicked fun, a cute little high school
girl like me actually spanking her big Babygirl teacher on the
bare bottbott as she lay across her desk. Maybe, I'll do it
anyway. How about I do it in front of the rest of the class the
next time you misbehave."
"Please don't do that. I've never hurt you."
"I know, sweetie. That's just why it will give me a great deal
of satisfaction to hurt you if you ever disobey me; and to
humiliate you as well."
Gina smirked in triumph, knowing by the dull resignation she
could see in Mrs. Sanderson's eyes that she had really won at
last.
"And now, since we understand each other so well, why don't you
slide that blouse all the way off your shoulders so that I can
see your pretty mommy udders. Are they really as pretty as they
seem to be when you allow them to press against those thin
blouses you wear, Mrs. Sanderson. You're such an exhibitionist,
flashing your tits like that in front of the class and all. Were
you trying to turn us on with your nasty little display?"
Mrs. Sanderson felt as if she were being dropped down a deep
well. Here she was, being ordered to display herself wantonly by
one of her own students, and totally unable to do anything but
obey. How had she allowed this girl to gain so much control over
her? The teacher sat docilely in her chair and reached her
trembling hands up to her blouse, her face flushed with
embarrassment and streaked with big, hot tear tracks. Then,
staring straight ahead, Mrs. Sanderson pushed her open blouse off
her smooth shoulders to give the young girl greater access to her
large, pear-shaped breasts. When Mrs. Sanderson had finished
pushing the blouse open at the shoulders so that her breasts were
clearly visible, Gina slowly slid her cool hands along her
teacher's bare midriff, pushed the blouse all the way apart, and
gazed contentedly at Mrs. Sanderson's large, tanned breasts, just
as if she were seeing something she wanted that already belonged
to her.
"A little saggy, but I guess they'll have to do. Won't they,"
Gina said with a lilt of triumph in her voice.
"Actually, they still look pretty perky. I'm going to have so
much fun with these big old udders of yours over the next week."
She slid her proprietary hands slowly back and forth over and
around her teacher's warm smooth breast flesh, squeezing each
breast possessively then rubbing her palms in circular motions
against the rock hard nipples.
"Your nipples are soooo stiff, Babygirl. That tells me that you
must really like what I'm doing to you. Doesn't it."
Mrs. Sanderson began to pant softly as Gina's touch whetted her
sick submissive sexual appetite. Her breasts were just aching
for Gina's sweet attention. Then, despite herself, the teacher
began to make little whimpering, pleading moans of unfulfilled
desire.
"Doesn't it."
Gail sighed, not wanting to admit out loud that having her
student's hands on her excited her almost to distraction.
"Well. Doesn't it."
Gina pinched as hard as she could on her teacher's swollen nipple
until Gail groaned in lust pleasure.
"Answer me, baby."
Gail surrendered.
"Yes."
Gina almost purred as she continued to fondle her teacher's
breasts.
"Mine, all mine. You're all mine from now on." Gina kept saying
softly over and over as she slid her fingers along her teacher's
big breasts. Mrs. Sanderson squirmed in her desk chair, but
remained seated.
"Aren't they, Babygirl," Gina gloated as she continued to pet her
teacher's breasts which now literally ached for more of the teen
girl's attention.
"Yes, Gina. They are all yours." came Mrs. Sanderson's whispered
surrender. Gina's caressing hand felt so good; so right. Even
though Mrs. Sanderson knew that what she was allowing her student
to do to her was so very, very wrong.
"To see any time I want to, Babygirl." Gina asked sweetly as she
brought her face within inches of Mrs. Sanderson's own.
"Yes."
"Yes what."
"Yes, Gina. To see any time you want to."
As Gina continued slowly playing with her teacher's ample
breasts, Mrs. Sanderson began to feel a commanding tingling
sensation deep inside her nether regions. The growing
realization that she was becoming absolutely powerless to resist
her young student was making her feel an overwhelming sense of
sexual acquiescence; a sense of desire that threw all caution,
morals, and common sense aside in favor of a powerful craving to
be dominated by this young girl, body and soul; to be shamed and
degraded, to be humiliated, to prove herself worthy, to be owned;
the growing need to forsake everything in her life, everything
she had by way of career and family and everything she had worked
for all these years; surrender everything to her new young
Mistress. Just surrender.
"And are these udders mine to do anything I want with." Gina
persisted.
At this latest question, asked by Gina in a voice that just
dripped with wickedness, Mrs. Sanderson felt a stinging pang of
fear. What did Gina have on her perverse mind. What were her
plans?
"What do you mean, anything?"
Mrs. Sanderson dared to look sheepishly up at her new Mistress
and plead.
"Well, sometimes I mean this." Gina hissed as she reached back
her hand and squeezed Mrs. Sanderson's left breast with enough
force to almost topple the frantic woman out of her desk chair.
"Or this." Gina squeezed poor, frightened Mrs. Sanderson's other
breast, thereby bringing her back into an upright sitting
position.
"Or any other damn thing I want to." Gina was now shouting into
Mrs. Sanderson's face. "Is that absolutely clear to you, you
stupid cow."
"Yes. Oh yes." Mrs. Sanderson gasped in utter terror and not
inconsiderable pain from her Mistress's powerful slaps.
"Yes, what." insisted Gina.
"Yes, Gina. My breasts are yours. All yours to do anything you
want with them from now on." Tears were back in Mrs. Sanderson's
eyes.
Gina allowed her teacher to recover herself somewhat before
continuing her explorations of the older woman's body. As her
senses returned to normal, Mrs. Sanderson still felt the last
sting of pain from Gina's squeezing. She had to admit to
herself, however, that she also felt turned on; quite turned on
in fact. Gina could see it in the suddenly hungry gleam of her
eyes.
"Did you like what I just did to your big old udders Mrs.
Sanderson."
Mrs. Sanderson's reply caught in her throat. She did not want to
admit to her student that pain turned her on. She did not want
to admit it to herself.
"Well, did you."
But admit it she must. So she meekly whispered the admission.
"Yes Gina, I liked what you just did."
"Well, well. So you like a little pain, do you, Babygirl, as
well as you like pleasure."
Despite herself, the older woman had to admit the truth.
"Yes, Gina. I like a little pain." Mrs. Sanderson groaned
lasciviously and wriggled in her chair.
"I like a little pain, but only if you give it to me."
Mrs. Sanderson lowered her eyes in abject shame once she had made
this telling confession to her new Mistress. She truly didn't
want it to be like this, not at all. But she didn't seem to have
any choice in the matter. Her body's craving overarched
everything else.
"You're such a little slut, aren't you, Mrs. Sanderson."
The older woman slowly nodded her head.
"Yes, Gina. I am."
"Well, isn't that convenient for you, because I like giving
babygirls like you a little pain. I like it a lot."
"Now aren't we a great pair." gloated Gina as she pinched the
underside of her teacher's soft breast.
"Yes, Gina," Mrs. Sanderson whimpered through gritted teeth.
"Now that that's settled, we can move on." Gina felt that
everything was going to be all right. She was certain now that
she had clearly established in Mrs. Sanderson's mind who the boss
was and who owned whom.
For her part, Mrs. Sanderson confessed to her innermost self that
the transfer of her willpower to Gina that had just occurred had
given her a perverse sense of release; a sense of release so
powerful that she nearly fainted from it.
No more was she responsible for herself and her actions. No
longer would she miss having the thing she craved most of all.
All she had to do now was do whatever Gina told her whenever Gina
told her. With this understanding, the tingling in her vagina
began again, just like before. Only this time it was much
stronger.
Wasn't this what she really wanted, anyway. Hadn't she always
secretly dreamed of surrendering totally to a strong female
personality?
Now that Mrs. Sanderson had subjugated her sexuality to Gina, she
came to understand with sudden clarity that, until her new
Mistress had come into her life, there had been a great void of
desperately unfulfilled sexual need. But Gina was here now and
Gina would take care of everything.
Mrs. Sanderson felt the last vestiges of resistance seep out as
she resigned herself to her fate, whatever it might be. Gina
would look after her just fine. Gina would love her and care for
her in the only way she really needed to be taken care of.
Seeing the final wisps of self-assertiveness escape from her
teacher like a soul fleeing a dead body, Gina leaned forward
again and slowly licked the very tip of Mrs. Sanderson's pretty
nose. Gina just kept doing this for a time, then she said softly
and sweetly, "It's not just your breasts or your legs that are
mine, all mine now. Do you know that, sweetie? Do you really
know that, you nasty little Babygirl, you."
"Yes."
"Yes what."
"Yes, Gina. I know that my entire body is yours."
Gina smiled sweetly.
"And your soul; what about your soul, Babygirl."
"And my soul. Everything is yours. Please love me and take care
of me." Mrs. Sanderson cried openly as she pleaded to her new
Mistress.
"Oh dear. You don't seem to understand." Gina smiled benignly,
betraying her malicious intent. "I'm not here to love you or to
take care of you, you nasty girl. No, not at all."
"I'm here to own you, and to humiliate you, and to degrade you,
and to debase you, and to make you very, very miserable, and to
make you addicted to that misery, and to make you love it. I'm
here to make you do anything I tell you so that I will make you
even more miserable."
"Do you understand me?"
Mrs. Sanderson sobbed and sobbed.
"Well, do you."
"Yes, Gina. Yes I understand."
Mrs. Sanderson kept sobbing her heart out. Now she was truly
aware of the bargain she had made and what it would ultimately
cost her.
"Do you still want me? Do you still want to make love to me? Do
you still want me to make love to you."
"Yes, Gina."
Mrs. Gail Sanderson had made her decision. There was no turning
back.
Gina pinched her teacher's distended nipple until the older woman
squealed with pain.
"And do you agree to being treated this way by me."
Mrs. Sanderson held her breath for a long time. The pain was so
intense. Finally, she mustered enough strength to answer.
"Yes, Gina. I agree to being treated this way by you."
"Good. And do you love me for treating you this way."
"Yes. I love you for treating me this way."
"Do you love me very much, Babygirl."
"Yes, Gina. I love you very much."
"And will you love me no matter what I do to you or make youdo."
Mrs. Sanderson stopped crying. She looked right at Gina.
"Yes, Gina."
"Beg me, then."
Mrs. Sanderson didn't hesitate a second.
"Please, Gina. I beg of you. Please own me. Please make me do
anything you want me to. Please humiliate me, and degrade me.
Please, please, oh please."
Gina removed her groping hands from her teacher's bosom.
"Prove it to me. Prove to me that I own you now, body and soul.
Push your chair back further from the desk."
Gina's voice was harsh, demanding.
Mrs. Sanderson pushed back against her chair and it rolled across
the floor until Gina stood well between her and her desk. In the
process, Mrs. Sanderson's skirt slid back down her thighs almost
to her knees.
"That's far enough. I want to see your legs again, teacher dear.
Pull your skirt back up around your hips. Let me see those legs
of yours again all the way up to your nasty Babygirl panties. I
just can't get enough of looking at those sexy teacher legs of
yours. Now that I can see them all the way from your little
piggy toes all the way up to your teacher cow pussy."
Mrs. Sanderson looked confused and uncertain.
"Do it now, bitch."
Hearing the uncompromising tone of Gina's voice, Mrs. Sanderson
responded immediately, reaching down to the hem of her
knee-length skirt and rucking it up once more all the way to her
hips. But this time, knowing what she did about Gina's stated
desire to give her pain as well as pleasure, she instinctively
clamped her thighs together in a subconscious effort to protect
herself. When Gina saw this she laughed out loud.
"I've seen much more of that than you have, sweetiepie. And, if
you'll recall, I've seen yours as well. So don't you dare be shy
around me any more. You know you want me to see you just like
before. You're such a little exhibitionist, aren't you? You just
love sitting there with your long, sexy legs exposed all the way
up to your crotch. You just know you do."
So saying, the 17 year old placed her hand immediately above her
teacher's exposed knee and slid it possessively along the top of
her thigh, right up to the leg hole of Mrs. Sanderson's thin
white panties.
"You know, Babygirl, you've got pretty good legs for a woman your
age. I like that. I like that a lot. And I'm going to like it
even more when I get to show you off to some of my teen girl
friends. They're going to think your legs are sexy, too."
At these lewd words, Mrs. Sanderson relaxed just a bit. A
delighted little tingle ran through her body, followed by a
salacious hope that her young student would once again demand
that she spread her legs and offer up her nether regions without
further ado to her new Mistress.
Gina slid her index finger back and forth around the tight leg
hole, teasing her teacher who slowly opened her thighs in lustful
anticipation without even being bidden to do so.
"Are you still wet for me, baby."
Gail Sanderson could feel the trickle of lust on her netherlips.
"Yes. I'm still wet for you."
Gina smiled.
"Are you very wet. Are you squishy wet, baby."
Mrs. Sanderson nodded her head briskly.
"Yes, Gina. I'm squishy wet for you."
Gina continued her teasing fingerplay.
"Oh, so that means you want me to play with your little pusspussy
again right now, don't you, you nasty little Babygirl. You've
really got a bad case of the slut hungrys for me, don't you,
Babygirl. You're so sick. Do you know that. Letting one of
your students finger you like this. It's just so nasty."
Mrs. Sanderson looked up at Gina abashedly and said, "Yes, Gina.
Please play with my little puss pussy. I know it's sick, but I
need you to play with me so badly."
The young girl giggled and felt along the gusset of her teacher's
panties.
"Your panties are very wet, all right. You are such a little
teacher slut. I'm going to have to punish you rather severely
for that later on tonight."
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered at the thought of being punished by this
17-year-old girl, but her hunger for attention overcame all her
fears.
"Pleeeaaassssee play with me. Gina, pleeeease."
"I just can't get over what a little horn dog you really are.
Wouldn't the other girls in class be surprised if they knew?.
Maybe we'll have to show them after we all get back from Spring
Break."
Mrs. Sanderson shuddered at the thought of Gina playing with her
sex right in front of the class.
"Pleeeeeease, Gina. Pleeeeeeease play with me."
Gina continued her teasing for a couple more minutes, then she
stopped abruptly.
"No, baby. Not now. I don't want to. Not when you want it so
bad. I want you to want it even more than you do right now."
Gina took her hand away and sternly ordered her teacher to cover
herself back up. Mrs. Sanderson did as she was told, but a
little moan of frustration escaped her lips as she re-arranged
her skirt.
Gina reached out and stroked her teacher's hair.
"Good girl. You mind me so well. You know, having you as my
slutty little sex toy is going to be just the best sort of fun
for me. Doesn't that prospect make you glad. Doesn't it make
your little puss pussy all warm and runny."
"Yes, Gina. The prospect of being your slutty little sex toy
makes me very glad."
And, surprise of surprises; as she said the words, Mrs. Sanderson
found that she was telling Gina the unvarnished truth. She was
happy, truly happy. Perhaps for the first time in her life. She
knew where she was supposed to be. Gina would make everything
fine.
"It makes my puss pussy all warm and runny for you."
Gina interrupted Mrs. Sanderson's blissful reverie by placing her
hand around her teacher's jaw and pulling her face forward to get
her undivided attention.
"I'm so glad you find the prospect of being my little subby slut
so appealing. You are such a sexy subby little teacher cow.
I've known you were a submissive little slut puppy from the first
moment I laid eyes on you. And now, you're my submissive little
slut puppy. Right, girl?"
Mrs. Sanderson wriggled all over her body.
"Yes, Gina. I'm your submissive little slut puppy. All yours."
"For as long as I want."
"Yes, for as long as you want me to be." agreed Mrs. Sanderson
softly.
"And won't you just adore all the wicked little nasty things I'm
going to make my little slut puppy do to entertain me."
"Yes. I'll just adore all the nasty little things you force me
to do."
"That's my good little slut puppy. But, you know, I can't keep
calling you slut puppy or Babygirl all the time." Ginachuckled.
Mrs. Sanderson dolefully admitted to herself that she could deny
Gina nothing. Her career, her family, her life itself;
everything about her was forfeit to Gina's perverse will. And,
once again, with that absolute final resignation, came a rush of
sexual need so strong as to render her almost unconscious. Mrs.
Sanderson needed Gina in a way and with an intensity that she had
never needed anyone before in her entire life.
Gail Sanderson was completely addicted, and she would do anything
in the world to feed her addiction. She had to have Gina. That
meant that Gina was totally in charge. She could have anything
she wanted. Mrs. Sanderson bowed her head again. Gina saw her
gesture of submission and her anger disappeared as quickly as it
had arisen.
"As I was saying, I just can't keep calling you my little slut
puppy forever. Right, Babygirl."
"Yes, Gina. You're right," Mrs. Sanderson whispered.
"So what is your first name, anyway slut puppy."
"My first name is Gail."
"OK then, Gail, open your mouth like the good little slut slave
you are and let me inspect my property."
Gail Sanderson did as she was told as Gina reached up and jabbed
her fingers between her teacher's parted lips. The 17 year old
slid her fingertips all across her teacher's teeth and gums, just
as if she were inspecting a horse before purchasing it.
"Wider, Gail."
Gail opened her mouth as wide as it could go, allowing Gina to
run her forefinger around the backs of her teeth and way back
over her tongue until the teacher almost gagged. Gina giggled as
she let her long finger slide around.
"Not bad gag reflex control, baby. We'll see just how far you
can take something down that sweet gullet of yours before gagging
real soon, ok. I promise."
Then the 17 year old gripped the very tip of her teacher's slick
pink tongue and drew it out of her mouth as far as it could go.
"I'm going to have so much fun with that sweet tongue of yours
over the next week or so. Now roll it back into your mouth like
a good little slut. Oh, and by the way, have you ever tasted
your own pusspuss wet with that nasty tongue when you played with
yourself late at night?. Have you ever licked your sticky
fingers just to see what you taste like?"
Gail shuddered and shook her head.
"No. I haven't"
Gina giggled.
"Well, we'll have to do something about that very soon. Won't
we."
Gail knew she must answer her owner's question.
"Yes. We will."
As she sat there in front of her sexy student, Gail knew that she
was already beginning the training process that would last for as
long as Gina continued to want her as a submissive. Gail was
anxious, but only that she would learn her lessons well enough to
satisfy Gina.
Gina removed her finger from her teacher's mouth and stood in
front of her with her hands on her hips.
"Ok, Gail. Its time to go. I want to start on your training
right away. And I expect you to be completely trained by the
time Spring Break is over. I am so looking forward to showing
you off to some of the girls I know."
Gina stepped back and allowed Mrs. Sanderson to get herself
unsteadily up out of her chair.
"Now, let's go."
Gail Sanderson looked over at her new Mistress.
"Where are we going, Gina?"
Gina patted her teacher's bottom affectionately.
"Why, to your house, Babygirl. I couldn't possibly take you back
to my dorm until you are much better trained than you now are.
Besides, I don't want your squealing to keep the other girls
awake."
As they left Gail Sanderson's classroom behind, the teacher
turned her head and gave it one last wistful glance. Next time
she saw that room, she would be a total submissive, well trained
and thoroughly obedient slave to her Teenage Mistress. That
is what she would be. That is what she wanted to be. Wasn'tit?