This is a work of fiction. You must be 18 or over to read this story.
Author's Note: This story is told in three parts. Part 1 is not completely original, it's a rewritten version of a story titled Pet Teacher, including significant changes to the characters and events.
I was very disappointed with the way that story ended (which was not changed in my remake), so I wrote Parts 2 and 3, which are completely original. Part 2 picks up where the original story ended and also features a separate story-within-a-story with different characters.
I hope that will make more sense if you get that far in the story. If it helps, Submission is told from a first-person viewpoint and the separate story (titled Soccer Slut) is told from a third-person point of view. It will also be in yellow type.
SUBMISSION
Part 1
After being at the local community college for eight years (the last six as an instructor), I was very rarely surprised by anything that happened in my classes. Right out of college, I took the job as a TA and two years later began to teach a class of my own in creative writing.
One constant over the years has been the eighteen and nineteen year old male students who constantly check me out. Even now, just past my thirty-second birthday the boys sometimes flirt with me and I’ve seen a few get wicked erections from staring at my legs and chest.
Not that I’ll ever be mistaken for a runway model, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am a reasonably attractive woman, maybe a seven on that arbitrary scale that men have used for who knows how long.
My breasts are average, nicely rounded but have shown the natural effects of gravity since I was in my early twenties. I would definitely pass (or is it fail?) that test where you put a pencil under your breast and let go to see if it falls. My legs, on the other hand, are nearly a perfect ten, even as I creep further into my thirties.
In my classes I am constantly reminded that these students are only a year (or sometimes two) removed from high school. Many of them take the class because they think it will get them an easy A or B even though they don’t have any interest in learning to write. Also like high school students, a lot of them actually hate school and are only here because they’re expected to be.
The second week into fall term I was getting nowhere with motivating them, individually or as a group, so on Tuesday I decided to try an experiment and let them decide what we should learn. If nothing else, maybe I could help them hone some basic writing skills. Even in today’s computer centered world, it's important to use proper grammar, spelling and punctuation.
So, that Monday morning of the second week of the term I asked the class, twenty-one students, to write down how they thought we should spend our class time. I gave them fifteen minutes to come up with whatever ideas they had before they passed them forward. Six of the twenty-one declined to take advantage of my offer to come up with some ideas.
As a girl gathered the suggestions and handed them to me, I gave the students fifteen minutes of free time. Laptops were opened and I heard at least two different episodes of The Simpsons and another one of Spongebob Squarepants. I could only shake my head as I sat down at my desk with the fifteen sheets of notebook paper.
Today’s winner, with six votes, was NOTHING. Three suggested that we WATCH MOVIES, two thought we should WRITE ABOUT MOVIES. There was one each with THAT’S YER JOB! and STUDY SOCIAL ISSUES.
One at least took the time to remember what the class was supposed to teach, suggesting that we WRITE CREATIVE STUFF. The one on the very bottom is the one that eventually shook my world and I had to wonder if it had been deliberately placed on the bottom.
Unlike the others, this was a complete sentence. I stared at the sentence for several minutes, having trouble believing the words on the page. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head as best I could, but when I looked back at that last sheet of paper, the words (unfortunately) hadn’t changed. Turning the paper face down, I looked up at my class, wondering who wrote such a sentence. There was only one student not looking at a screen—and she was looking right at me.
As we made eye contact, a devious smile spread across her cute face. Amanda Connor. I knew very little about her other than she resented school and most teachers. She had been polite to me the first week, and I had begun to think she could be the only one that might make this class interesting. That all changed with one sentence. If only I’d known how much things would change.
§ § § § §
Without standing I dismissed the class, saying I wasn’t feeling well. The room emptied quickly as they realized they had forty-five minutes of unexpected free time. I put my head in my hands and tried to get my breathing under control. I would be lying if I said I never thought about fooling around with a student. Those fantasies always involved being seduced by a pretty young co-ed and being dominated into submitting to her will.
Two nights earlier I had been making love with my husband, but when I had an orgasm I wasn’t thinking about him. I was fantasizing about being taken and used repeatedly as a fuck-toy by a team of cheerleaders. As much as I hate to admit it, Amanda’s one sentence declaration had resulted in my panties dampening. The real me would never do such a thing since that part of my life was far in the past, but the fantasy me had recently started thinking about being dominated on a regular basis.
Several minutes after the room had emptied I suddenly realized that not everyone had left. I looked up to see Amanda standing silently by the door. When our eyes met, her lips slowly curled into a soft smile. Then she turned and left the room without a word. Her smile was enigmatic, mysterious and… something else. There was a perfect word to describe it but that word escaped me. Here I was, teaching a creative writing class and I couldn’t find the exact right adjective to describe that haunting smile on Amanda’s face.
When she was gone I turned the page back over and read the single sentence for the umpteenth time.
I will make make you lick my pussy until I scream and cum all over your face.
Sighing, I pulled a stack of papers in front of me and began to grade them. Nearly twenty minutes later, the elusive word came to me, bouncing around inside my head like a BB in an empty box car. The look she’d given me was that of a hungry lion looking at an unsuspecting antelope or a wolf eying a stray lamb.
Predatory. Her smile had been predatory.
§ § § § §
I thought of little else that afternoon, but finally I went home to fix dinner for my husband Don and our two sons, eight-year old twins named Nathan and Jacob. They regaled me with tales of one of their friends at school eating bugs and my husband of nine years told some stories of his own about boyhood bug eating. By the time the meal was over I was thoroughly grossed out, but much more relaxed.
By nine the boys had been bathed and put to bed. My husband was downstairs watching a baseball game and I was in our bedroom on my laptop. I was in a chat room where a few of my friends and I regularly get together and decompress after making it through another day. I had mostly forgotten my earlier discomfort when a name I’d never seen before entered the room and immediately sent me a request for a private chat.
I felt uneasy as I was immediately taken back to my classroom earlier in the day. Somehow I knew it was Amanda and I had an internal debate about whether or not to accept. I held the mouse cursor over the DECLINE button for several long seconds. Then, curiosity got the better of me.
I clicked ACCEPT and we went a private room where I stared at a blank screen, waiting for her to begin. As the seconds passed and she didn’t start typing I began to get a little antsy. This was wrong on so many levels. Ninety seconds passed and I felt like I was sixteen-years old again, waiting for my prom date to arrive. Finally, I moved the mouse until it hovered over END CHAT. Before I could click on it, her first words appeared.
TeenDom: Hi, teach.
Harper2006: Hello Amanda.
TeenDom: How r u?
Harper2006: Fine.
Well, this is certainly a scintillating conversation, I thought.
TeenDom: Good. I want you to do something for me.
Harper2006: What?
TeenDom: Wear a black bra tomorrow.
I inhaled sharply. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t anything about my underwear. It was too personal, too intimate. Then I realized her original note was much more intimate. I had to put a stop to this, so I lied.
Harper2006: No, I can’t do that. I don’t own one.
TeenDom: Target. Wal-Mart.
Harper2006: No. This has to stop Amanda.
TeenDom: What has to stop, Mrs. Harper?
Harper2006: You know what I’m talking about.
I’m a teacher and you’re my student.
There are boundaries that cannot be crossed.
TeenDom: You said to write what I wanted from you and I did.
Harper2006: Why did you write that?
TeenDom: Write what?
Harper2006: Don’t play dumb. You know what you wrote.
Tell me why you said that.
TeenDom: I thought it was pretty clear.
Did you feel excited when you read it?
Harper2006: What I felt is none of your concern.
TeenDom: I’ll take that as a yes. Anyway, gotta go.
See you in class.
Remember, wear a black bra.
Before I finished reading her response, TEENDOM HAS LEFT THE ROOM appeared under the last sentence. I was stunned, and unusually aroused. I leaned back on my chair and masturbated myself to an orgasm as I fantasized about Amanda dominating me. As soon as I came to another explosive orgasm, my senses returned again and I was ashamed. I had to find a way to control these desires, but I wasn’t sure I could.
§ § § § §
Why had I lied about having a black bra? Now Amanda was going to think that I went out and bought one like an obedient slut would do. The first thing I told myself when I began to dress was that I was not going to put on a black bra. My head knew I wasn’t going to do it, but my hands did it anyway. Only half aware of the real world around me, my body felt the slow build-up of excitement as I left for class.
I knew I was in trouble when Amanda walked into my room dressed in a plaid skirt and knee high socks. The smile on her face said it all as she immediately spotted my black bra. I had seen that smile before, on women who used other women as their personal plaything. I had become one of those other women in college for a time and a part of me wanted to be one now. My pussy began to moisten as my mind desperately tried to control the potentially dangerous situation. Damn it, why hadn’t I worn any bra except the black one?
She sat at the very front of class, as she had every day since the semester started, staring at me as I attempted a lesson on lyrics as poetry. I had expected the class to drag out, but surprisingly, it went by in a flash. The whole time though, I felt a pair of eyes watching my every move. Each time I glanced at Amanda, all I got was a smile that seemed to scream I have plans for you! When the class was over, I resolved to be strong against the inevitable assault. I had to put a stop to this.
I girded myself to be firm and tell her that her little game was over. When Amanda got up and left class without even looking at me I was stunned. What the hell was she doing? Was she simply playing mind games with me? Had I somehow gotten the wrong idea? As I headed home I didn’t know which was greater… my relief or my disappointment.
That night, I lingered in the chat room. I finally admitted to myself that I was waiting for Amanda to make an appearance. Chastising myself, I was ready to log-out when she entered the room and immediately requested a private chat.
TeenDom: Were you disappointed when
I didn't talk to you after class?
Harper2006: Of course not, should I have been?
That was a flat out lie of course. Three more questions came immediately, each more personal than the last.
TeenDom: Have you been playing with yourself
while you waited for me to log-in?
Did your pussy get wet when I came into the room?
Are your panties wet right now?
Harper2006: Amanda, those are very inappropriate questions.
TeenDom: I already know the answers Jennifer.
I know all I need to know about you.
There was a smiley face at the end, accentuating the familiarity of calling me by my first name. When I didn’t answer immediately she continued.
TeenDom: I know you want me Jennifer.
I know you cream your panties dreaming
about being my bitch. I know you won’t be
complete until you submit to me.
There was an emoji with one eye closed in a wink. Then she added one final thought.
TeenDom: You’ll prove it in the morning by wearing red panties.
Sweet dreams, teach.
She logged out.
How could she possibly know that I had been idly playing with myself and thinking about her as I waited? That I had gotten wet when she logged in? I was practically panting as I closed my eyes and rubbed myself through my panties. Somehow the physical release wasn’t enough this time. I wanted more. How was this teenage girl able to read me so well? She seemed to know things about me that I wasn’t even aware of. I laid out my clothes for the next day, carefully setting the red thong on top of the stack.
§ § § § §
I don’t know why I blindly obeyed the teenage seductress. I always wear comfortable underwear to work, and it felt strange to be wearing a thong in a classroom.
Amanda was wearing a ridiculously short sundress and when she sat she parted her legs enough to make sure I saw that she was wearing red panties, as if that somehow linked us together. Her eyes bore into me throughout the class just as they had the day before as I discussed what makes a poem.
I read a few simplistic ones and finally had the class write their own poems. I walked around the room, trying to assist and keep them on task. When I finally got to Amanda, she thrust hers out to me, commanding me to read it without saying a word. I nervously took it and read her poem.
How exciting it is to claim a new pet
So much fun to tease and to play with
My pretty new pet so eager to please me.
I love an obedient pet, who instantly
Obeys my every command
My playful new pet so eager to please me.
So much fun in the days ahead
Teasing and playing with my pet
My sexy new pet so eager to please me.
My new pet will submit to me
Though she hasn’t accepted that yet,
My horny new pet so eager to please me.
Soon enough she will beg me to fuck her
And I will fuck her until she screams.
My pretty new pet so eager to please me.
My knees were getting weak before I was halfway through and I clumsily sat down in the empty desk next to Amanda’s. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, tame compared to the fire in my loins. This teenage girl was unbelievable. I finished the last line and read it a second time, lingering on the last verse before handing back her paper. Visions of being taken ran wildly through my head.
With an innocent smile, she asked, “Like my poem, Mrs. Harper?”
“It seems to clearly express your feelings,” I answered, and quickly looked away when she gave me that predatory smile. I walked unsteadily back to my desk, even as the wetness of arousal began to soak through my thin panties. The bell rang, and I breathed a sigh of relief until I saw that Amanda was still sitting quietly at her desk.
When the room was empty she walked to my desk, her face expressionless. In a firm voice she asked, “Did you obey me?”
Amanda, you need to leave. Right now.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Stand up.”
No! This is inappropriate and I won’t be a part of this.
I stood, my legs still trembling a bit. Like a magician performing on stage, her left hand lifted the hem of my skirt, exposing my obedience while she drew the fingers of her right hand lightly across the crotch band of my panties and drew it back. One more second of her touch and I might have cum right there where I stood.
Holding up her obviously wet fingers, she said flatly, “Tell me why your panties are so wet.”
You know why! Because I want to lick your sweet young pussy until you cum on my face.
I said nothing. It was all I could do to breathe.
“Why are your panties so wet?” she asked again.
Because I want you to rip off my clothes and fuck me until I scream!
“I… don’t know,” I managed to answer.
“Yes Jennifer. You do know,” she said, exuding confidence. There was a brief pause before she continued. “You know you want to be taken. You know you want me to strip you naked and fuck you senseless.” Still staring in my eyes, she slowly licked my juices from her fingers, running her tongue over her lips. Then she smiled. “Don’t you?”
Oh gawd yes. Please just do it. Take me! How does she know? How the fuck does she KNOW?
“Uhhn… no,” I said. Even to my ears it sounded weak and unconvincing. More of my juice sought release through the fabric of my thong as I watched her tongue sensuously lick my nectar from her fingers. Why was I fighting this? My body was saying YES.
She stared into my eyes, her face still impassive. After a long moment she spoke softly but with conviction. “Your pussy is dripping wet because you want to be my bitch. You want to submit to me and obey my every command.” With a knowing smile, she added, “And you will, won’t you?”
Inside my head, I was screaming, Yes! Take me. Use me. Make me your bitch!
“No, of course not,” I said, protesting weakly.
“Really?” she asked. “You can honestly say you haven’t fantasized about putting your face between my legs and licking my juicy young pussy?”
I tried to keep control of the situation. Instead of answering her question I almost whined, “Amanda, this has got to stop. Please, just go.”
She stared at me for a very long moment before shrugging nonchalantly. “Okay. If that’s what you want, Mrs. Harper.” I was stunned when she abruptly turned, snatched up her backpack and walked out of my classroom without looking back.
——— end of Part 1 ———
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