Submission (MF, FF, humiliation, oral, dom/sub)

[Remington555]

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 ———

More stories by Remington555

[Remington555]

Part 2

   Once Amanda had left the classroom, my legs couldn’t hold me up any longer. I fell back on my chair with a soft wet squishy sound, my pussy juices leaking out a bit. What the hell is going on? Holding back tears of frustration I cursed my weakness as I made my way to my car.

     I got home even before the boys got home from school since they had soccer practice that afternoon. I immediately went to my bedroom and almost savagely finger fucked myself to a massive physical release. To my shame, it was Amanda that I was thinking about.

     As I fixed dinner my twins were telling me all about the girls that loved to hang upside down on the monkey bars, exposing their underwear. Nathan and Jacob were only eight. They couldn’t be interested in girls yet. Could they? I was not ready for that. I was having enough trouble dealing with my own naughty desires.

     My ambivalence began to clear during dinner. I felt more relief and less disappointment. I couldn’t get involved with a student. She was of legal age, that wasn’t a problem, but the school policy expressly prohibited staff from having any type of romantic relationship with students. Amanda was obviously a strong-willed young woman but I had finally convinced her that this could not happen.

     By nine o’clock I knew that I had dodged a bullet. I had been so close to giving in to my naughty fantasies and frankly, I wasn’t sure how I had been able to resist the desires that had been so strong. My pussy and my emotions had definitely wanted to indulge in such a forbidden fantasy, but my brain had somehow saved me from making a huge mistake. I was a little surprised that Amanda had given up so easily, but it was for the best.

     I was ready for bed and at peace with myself for the first time in several days when my phone buzzed with a text message. Leisurely picking it up, I saw that there was no name, and the number was blocked. When I read the body of the message my blood ran cold.

     There was an internet link to a website called submissivesluts.net and very specific instructions.
  
          Hey teach,
          I forgot to give you your homework assignment.
          Click on the link above and read the story.
          Do it tonight before you go to bed. There will be a test. (smiley face)

     There was no signature, just a kissing emoji, but I didn’t need a PhD to know it was from Amanda. I just stared at the screen, idly wondering how she’d gotten my cell phone number. I reread the message several more times, shaking my head the whole time.

     No, I can’t do that. I won’t do that, I thought. I can’t keep playing these games with her. I’m done. Then another text arrived.

        And Jennifer, do not touch yourself while you read.

     Foolishly, I took that as a challenge. I was thirty-two years old, a grown woman. An adult. Surely I can read a simple story with touching myself, I thought. Challenge accepted! Bring it on.

     Determined to prove that I could do it, I clicked on the link and began to read.

    Soccer Slut by subsheila

            If you asked Sheila what it was like to be the Women’s Athletic Director at a large (over 20,000 students) Community College she would have told you (if she thought you could be trusted) that it was very much like running a preschool, except that there weren’t any runny noses to wipe. Usually.

        No, what made it seem like a preschool was the constant squabbling and bickering, usually between the various coaches, but sometimes even the athletes got involved. Such was her working life, and that’s why she was making her way to the women’s locker complex instead of to the parking lot to go home. She had been summoned via voice-mail earlier in the day by the soccer coach, Sue, and was just now free to address the latest kerfuffle, whatever it was.

        Sheila saw Sue’s darkened office and sighed. How exasperating! she thought as she retraced her steps and headed back to her own office. She tells me to get my ass down here ASAP and—“Ooof!” In her reverie, she’d turned a corner without paying attention and ran into another person. She automatically started to apologize but didn’t have a chance.

        “What the fuck?” Sheila instantly recognized the voice as belonging to the star and captain of the soccer team, Courtney. But why was she naked except for a towel hung loosely over her shoulder? Practice had ended over an hour ago and the locker room should have been deserted. She could see stray drops of water here and there on the nineteen-year old’s nude body. She’d obviously just finished a shower.

        “Sorry Courtney, I didn’t know anyone was still here. Sue asked me to come down but she’s not here and I was in a bit of a huff. I should have been watching where I was going.” As she finished her apology, she realized that she was staring, rather intently, at Courtney’s incredibly toned, firm (and naked!) teenage breasts. They seemed to defy gravity, jutting proudly from the co-ed’s chest.

        Her boobs are incredible! Mine never looked that good, even ten years ago when I was her age, Sheila thought. Embarrassed, she immediately lowered her gaze, which was a mistake because now she was staring at a small, neatly trimmed landing strip of dark blonde pubic hair where the adolescent’s legs came together.

      Four years into her marriage, Sheila was quite content with her life. She and her husband had no children, and none were planned. She had landed her current job nearly five years ago and couldn’t imagine finding a better one. Aside from her one lone experience in high school, her entire sex life had been heterosexual. Still, in the last year or so, she’d found herself admiring the youthful sexuality of the athletes in her department, wondering if she was missing something.


        Courtney picked up the towel that had fallen and began to dry her hair as she said playfully, “Feel free to take a picture Sheila, it’ll last longer. Or I could send you the same one I sent my boyfriend.” Sheila blushed, her face turning bright red, strangely complementing the red hair that proclaimed her Irish roots.

        “S-sorry, I d-didn’t m-mean—” she stuttered.

        “It’s okay. I know you’ve been eying me when you were on the field while we practiced.”

        “I… I don’t know what you mean.” That was a lie. She knew exactly what Courtney meant, she was just shocked that one of her student-athletes knew she’d been doing that. She had in fact enjoyed watching the soccer star whenever she had the chance.

        Courtney had caught her attention at the very beginning of the school year. At 5-foot-7, the student was three inches taller than Sheila, and was carrying maybe five pounds more than she should. Not overweight by any means, not even chubby, the extra weight was in her hips, and especially her well-rounded bottom.

        Because soccer was such an active game, she habitually wore her dark blonde hair in twin braided pigtails, the ends of which usually rested slightly below her shoulder blades. Her eyes were a dark blue, deep enough to get lost in, or at least that’s the way Sheila thought of them. Courtney’s trim athletic body exuded the sexuality of late adolescence, and gave Sheila feelings that she couldn’t identify.

        Courtney had moved over to the bench in front of her locker and waved a hand at Sheila. “Come over here.” The smile on her face was unreadable. Sheila stepped closer, feeling like she was in a dream. “You’ve been checking me out since school started, haven’t you? Have you been imagining what I look like naked?”

        “N-no. Of course n-not.”

        Courtney locked eyes with the older woman for a long moment, having sensed something from the Athletic Director. Before acting on it though, she decided a little test was in order. She put her hand on Sheila’s shoulder, sending chills racing up and down Sheila’s spine. When Courtney gently pushed down on her shoulder, Sheila felt her knees weaken and then she was kneeling in front of the naked soccer star. With their bodies only inches apart, she had quite a close-up view of the most private part of Courtney’s sex.

        “Kiss it,” Courtney said, so softly Sheila wasn’t even sure that she’d heard it at first.

        In slow motion she leaned forward, narrowing the gap between their two bodies. Closing her eyes, she pursed her lips and gently kissed Courtney’s vulva. She inhaled, taking in the fresh clean scent of the girl’s body wash and… something else. It was ever so faint, but very real. Arousal, Sheila’s brain identified the scent as. Her vagina is lubricating, she thought almost clinically, momentarily shocked. Then she pressed her lips more firmly against Courtney’s delta and began to kiss the moist warm flesh in earnest.

        As Sheila’s tongue joined her lips in carnal contact with the blonde teenage co-ed, she lifted her arms, intending to reach behind Courtney and take hold of her butt cheeks. Before she could, the soccer star giggled and gently pushed Sheila’s head back, breaking the intimate contact. “Whoa girl, I said kiss it, not marry it.” Courtney was almost certain now that Sheila would soon be pleasuring her for real, but her testing wasn’t quite finished.

        For the second time, Sheila felt her cheeks flaming. Damn my Irish heritage, she thought, even as she realized that she was breathing faster than normal. Courtney lifted the still fully-clothed Athletic Director to her feet. More convinced of her earlier feeling, Courtney smiled and asked softly, “Have you ever tasted a woman before?”

        “O-only once. High school. F-first year. Truth or Dare g-game. Not a w-woman really, a g-g-girl. My age. Experimenting.” Sheila’s thoughts were disjointed, overwhelmed by the brief addictive taste of Courtney’s essence and it showed in her staccato speech. Her body was sending urgent messages to her brain, too many and too fast for her to process them all.

       Four years into her marriage, Sheila was quite content with her life. She and her husband had no children, and none were planned. She had landed her current job nearly five years ago and couldn’t imagine finding a better one. Aside from her one lone experience in high school, her entire sex life had been heterosexual. Still, in the last year or so, she’d found herself admiring the youthful sexuality of the athletes in her department, wondering if she was missing something.

        I’m alone with Courtney in the locker room and she’s naked! Sheila suddenly realized, as all the whirling thoughts coalesced into one more startling fact. Holy shit, I just kissed a girl’s pussy! It was all because the soccer coach had lured her down here for what had appeared to be nothing. She didn’t know whether to be pissed or grateful.

        As they gazed at each other, Courtney began to unbutton Sheila’s blouse with slow deliberation. With three buttons undone, she said casually, “You liked that, didn’t you?”

        “I… I’m m-married,” Sheila said weakly, then cursed herself for the non-sequitur. As if to answer the question non-verbally, she licked her lips, still tasting Courtney there.

        “And I have a boyfriend, so what? I didn’t ask for your marital status.” She paused, then said in a neutral voice, “Answer my question. Would you like another taste?”

        Surprised by her sudden strong desire to do just that, Sheila was unable to form even one more word. She nodded her head very slowly, her expression one of awe and wonder as the intimate taste of the student-athlete lingered on her tongue.

        All the buttons were loose now and the blouse gaped open. Like an obedient five-year old whose mother was undressing her at bedtime, Sheila lifted her arms as Courtney pulled off her top and dropped in on the bench. Their eyes still locked, Courtney reached around and unhooked the redhead’s bra and pulled the straps down. Sheila leaned forward and shrugged her shoulders to help free the cups. Courtney dropped the bra on top of the blouse and Sheila was naked above the waist.

        Courtney looked down as she hefted Sheila’s bare breasts in her palms. They were slightly smaller than her own and were beginning to show a bit of the effect that gravity has as a woman approaches her 30th birthday. “Nice boobs,” she said playfully as she caressed the soft fleshy globes protruding from Sheila’s chest. Another shiver ran through Sheila’s body.

        There was no doubt in Courtney’s mind that Sheila wanted this, but she had to be absolutely sure. Sheila had been docile and even helpful as Courtney had stripped her to the waist, but now Courtney wanted the woman to consciously make a choice. Sexual harassment was not a subject she wanted to deal with. Taking a step back, Courtney said, “Take off your pants Sheila.” It wasn’t exactly a command, it was more conversational than that, like a suggestion with an unspoken if you want to.

        With alacrity Sheila unbuttoned and unzipped the khaki trousers that were virtually her work uniform. Pushing them down her legs to her feet, she stepped out of them. Wearing only her panties and sandals, she looked longingly at the beautiful young soccer star she had fantasized about and worshiped from afar.

         Sheila had just recently begun to imagine what it would be like to have sex with one of those nubile young women, not that she thought she’d ever actually do so, or even have a chance to. Now, it seemed like she was about to be abruptly dragged out of her comfort zone and have one of her sexual fantasies play out in real life.

        Courtney moved the bench slightly closer to the lockers, sat down and leaned back against the lockers. The cool metal against her shoulders was in stark contrast to the heat flaring between her parted legs. She had been attracted to the petite older woman with red hair and incredible green eyes from the beginning and now she was about to have her.

        Any doubts remaining in Courtney’s mind vanished when, without being told to, Sheila dropped to her knees, licking her lips and staring directly at Courtney’s glistening pussy. “Do you like what you see?” Courtney asked.

        Nodding slowly, Sheila said reverently, “You’re very beautiful.”

        “What I am is very wet and very horny. So what are you waiting for my sweet little bitch? Fuck me with your mouth.” Before she could reach forward to pull Sheila’s head against her steaming pussy, Sheila leaned in and began to lick tentatively. The pig-tailed blonde sighed contentedly, watching as Sheila’s teasing tongue connected to the swelling pink lips of her labia.

        Sheila took a deep breath as she began to move her tongue slowly over Courtney’s wet sex. The scent of arousal was stronger, and she could still detect the lingering smell of the girl’s body wash. It was very familiar, but she couldn’t quite identify it. Whatever it was, it certainly mixed well with the natural aroma of the co-ed’s sexual arousal.

        Courtney moaned softly as Sheila took her time exploring the nether region of another girl for only the second time in her life. As much as she was savoring the unique taste of the soccer star’s wetness, her mind was whirling. Was this cheating on her husband? What if someone walked in and caught her having sex with a student? Had she been playing for the wrong team all this time without knowing it? None of that mattered now. Nothing short of a nuclear explosion could have made her stop what she was doing.

        “Oh fuck, that feels good,” Courtney mumbled. “Do you like my pussy Sheila?”

        “Mmfff.” Sheila’s reply was muffled, given that her lips and tongue were busy, but Courtney took it to be in the affirmative. Sheila’s head then moved slightly as she attacked the teenager’s clit. Eucalyptus! she thought suddenly. That’s what her body wash smells like. Wow, eucalyptus and pussy juice together smells intoxicating. Then she forgot all about body wash when Courtney’s body began to thrash about like it had been zapped with a taser.

        “YES! Right there my pet,” Courtney exclaimed excitedly. “Lick my clit. Oh fuck yes.”

        Sheila felt warm fluid soak into her panties when Courtney called her ‘my pet’. Her eyes were closed as she swirled her tongue around Courtney’s clit. Sheila thought this must be what an addiction to cocaine was like. She was pleasuring the sexy young soccer star and she loved Courtney’s unique taste. She never wanted this moment to end.

        This was not Courtney’s first experience with a submissive. She had seduced her first ‘pet’ the night of their middle school graduation. Kimiko, a stunningly beautiful half-Japanese girl had suffered from very low self-esteem and Courtney had dominated her classmate over that summer, teaching her how to pleasure—and to be pleasured.

        She’d had four more submissive ‘pets’ since then, all her own age or younger. Sheila would be the first older woman that Courtney would dominate, and it was both new and exciting for the nineteen-year old co-ed.

        In the locker room, Courtney suddenly stilled momentarily, murmuring unintelligibly. Then her well-rounded butt abruptly began to squirm around on the bench again. She reached down and pulled Sheila’s head roughly against her pussy and began humping her hips up, grinding herself against the red-haired woman’s face. “Do your lezzie magic bitch. Make me cum! Fuck me you lezzie-slut! Fuck my pussy and make me cum!”

        Sheila was spearing her tongue in and out of Courtney’s increasingly wet crevice frenetically. Courtney’s moans increased and Sheila could tell the sexy soccer star was nearing a climax. As hard as Courtney was pulling on her head, Sheila had very little room to maneuver but managed to wrap her lips around the teen’s clit and sucked the swollen nubbin into her mouth. Courtney clamped her thighs tightly around Sheila’s head as she screamed, “FUCK YES!”

        Courtney’s pussy spewed hot girl cream all over Sheila’s face. Sheila’s tongue became that of a hungry feral kitten, lapping and sucking the sweet nectar that was flooding her mouth as fast as she could lick it up. Her thirst for Courtney’s love honey was unquenchable as she reveled in her submission to Courtney’s pleasure. The soccer star’s perfection was worth whatever price she had to pay.

        Panting heavily, Courtney finally relaxed her thighs and Sheila sat back on her heels, gulping in a much needed deep breath. Once her orgasm began to ebb, Courtney stood and pulled Sheila with her. She wrapped her arms around the older woman and Sheila felt an indescribable thrill radiating outward from her loins as Courtney’s hard nipples bore into the soft flesh of her breasts. When Courtney pulled her head forward and tried to shove her tongue down the redhead’s throat, Sheila nearly passed out.

        “I love to taste myself on my pet slut,” Courtney observed in a sultry voice as she broke the kiss and began to slowly lick Sheila’s cheeks and chin. Sheila shivered and pressed her mound against the teenager’s as she reached around, planted her hands firmly against Courtney’s shapely bottom and used it for leverage as she ground her sex against the girl.

        Courtney snaked her right hand down between them, nestling her index finger lightly between Sheila’s cotton-covered labial lips. She could feel that they were swollen and already beginning to part in anticipation. As she pressed lightly against the fabric of the Athletic Director’s panties, the cloth was slowly swallowed up inside Sheila’s channel.

        Her voice no less sultry, but with a slightly harder edge, Courtney said, “You do understand that you are my pet now, don’t you? That I own you and I’m in control of this little treasure?”

        Simultaneously with the last three words, Courtney’s finger sank to the first knuckle into Sheila’s secret place, pushing her soaked panties even deeper. Sheila groaned. Courtney continued, “It’s up to you Sheila. We can just stop right now and go our separate ways if that’s what you want. Or you can—”

        “NO! Don’t stop! Please, I need…”

        Courtney smiled as Sheila’s voice trailed off. She knew she wasn’t playing fair, that Sheila was so turned on and horny she’d agree to almost anything, but that wasn’t the point. While she was scrupulous about following the rules of soccer, personal relationships were an entirely different matter.

        No, this was about sex and power, and there were no rules about the former. The latter was there to be claimed by the strong, someone like her, who loved to dominate weaker women, women who were submissive by nature. Courtney was sure that Sheila hadn’t even known she was a submissive before today but the soccer star had seen it immediately. Now, it was time to close the deal with her new pet.

        “You want to cum, don’t you?” Even before Sheila nodded slowly, Courtney continued. “Okay my pet. Take off your panties then.” There was no mistaking the tone of command in her voice now.

        Sheila felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her physical need was overwhelming and her brain seemed to have turned to mush. Still, she paused after raising her hands to the waistband of the only garment she was wearing and looked at Courtney, her expression a complex mixture of desire, apprehension and adoration.

        “What are you waiting for slut? I said get your fucking panties off. Hurry up, I don’t have all night.” Courtney’s voice now had an even harder edge. She knew well how important it was to establish her authority over the submissive woman.

        Even her desire and adoration couldn’t suppress Sheila’s apprehension entirely. Feeling unusually vulnerable she pushed her panties down. The cavernous room was so quiet that she heard a soft wet sound as the gooey mess in her crotch-panel released its grip on her outer labia, where Courtney had pushed it inside her tunnel.

        When Sheila’s panties hit the concrete floor with a faint plop, Courtney stepped closer and used her right hand to caress Sheila’s left breast, two fingers closing around the hard nipple. Sounding almost indifferent now, the soccer star said, “Do you want me to eat your cunt?” She chose the last word deliberately.

        Sheila’s whisper was all but inaudible. “Yes.”

        With her right hand still tweaking Sheila’s nipple, Courtney raised her left hand to her ear. “What was that?”

        “Yes. Please.” Sheila was practically whimpering.

        “Yes what, my pet?”

        “Please lick—ohhhh—my vagina.” Courtney had gently pinched her nipple halfway through the sentence.

        Courtney giggled. “Vagina?” Her fingers wandered to Sheila’s other breast. “This isn’t a doctor’s office. Try again.”

        “Pussy. Lick my puss—aaaaah!” Courtney had tweaked the right nipple this time, hard enough that Sheila felt a mixture of pleasure and pain.

        “That’s two strikes my pet. Last chance.” She released the nipple and began to lightly trail her index finger downward, moving slowly from between Sheila’s breasts, down past her stomach and then nearing her pubis.

        Sheila’s brain was completely scrambled, but it somehow managed to find the word she knew Courtney wanted to hear. “CUNT! Will you please, please eat my cunt!”

        “Of course I will, my sweet little bitch.” Courtney had established her control over the redhead. She leaned forward and sucked a nipple into her mouth as her finger reached Sheila’s vulva and now lightly traced the small opening between the folds of the older woman’s core. Sheila quivered uncontrollably, nearly exploding as a feeling of ecstasy flooded through her from the mere touch against her super-heated sex.

        Courtney gently guided her new pet down on the bench and knelt between the Athletic Director’s trembling legs. She didn’t mind performing oral sex on her pets, although given a choice her favorite thing to do was give her strap-on a vigorous workout on a submissive slut’s hungry pussy. She didn’t usually carry that around with her though, so she would be content to use her mouth.

        Courtney took a long slow lick all the way from the bottom of Sheila’s slit to the top, teasing the redhead and eliciting an earthy groan. Then she lifted her head to look into Sheila’s eyes. Time to reinforce her control.“Tell me what you want bitch. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

        Sheila was beyond any rational thought. “Eat my cunt and make me cum.” Her voice was suddenly strong, almost demanding. “I need to cum so bad.”

        Using her tongue to flick very lightly at Sheila’s clit, Courtney felt like a cat toying with a mouse before delivering the killing blow. That made her smile. I’m such a bad-ass bitch, she thought. She paused her tongue long enough to make a demand of her own. “Tell me you’re my lezzie-slut.”

        Without hesitation, Sheila declared her adoration. “I’m your lezzie-slut Courtney. I will drop to my knees any time, any place and worship your pussy with my mouth until you cum and feed me the nectar of your perfection. I’ll lick you through your panties. I’ll be your slut, your bitch, your fuck-toy. I’ll do whatever I have to for a taste of your heavenly cunt-cream.”

        Somehow Sheila got all of that out in one breath. A small part of her felt utterly humiliated as if she’d abased herself beyond redemption, but a larger part of her felt incredibly exhilarated and as free as she could possibly imagine. Her words seemed to have pleased Courtney though.

        “Fuck, that is so hot!” Courtney purred. Then she planted her face in Sheila’s horny pussy and went to work. Less than a minute later, she took Sheila’s clit between her teeth and tugged gently. A massive orgasm exploded in every part of Sheila’s body. Courtney waited until she began to come down and then plunged a finger inside Sheila’s sopping treasure.

        “OH FUCK!” Sheila screamed, her pleasure immediately rising again. The entire world shrank down, getting smaller and smaller, until all that was left of the universe was what Courtney was doing between her legs. Nothing else mattered.

        Courtney hooked her finger and found Sheila’s G-spot. Sheila erupted, not just once, but over and over and over again until she thought her body would explode, sending a million pieces of her flying around the locker room. As a sexual euphoria that Sheila thought would never end finally reached its last peak, Courtney removed her fingers and idly licked them. She waited patiently as the orgasm that seemed to last forever finally ran its course. Even a volcano runs out of lava sooner or later.

        Sheila sat up and leaned over to kiss the teen soccer star, shivering with pleasure when she tasted her own juices on the teenage girl’s lips and cheeks and chin. Just an hour ago she would have thought that to be such a naughty and even disgusting thing to do, but now she knew it was too sweet and natural to be wrong. She tasted almost as good as Courtney had and it was wonderful.

        Their kiss lingered until Courtney finally broke it. “I need to go. I have a date tonight. Remember that I own you now Sheila. You belong to me… and the rest of the soccer team. We’re having a sleepover Saturday and I expect you to be there to service whoever needs it. Some of the girls don’t have a boyfriend and they get horny as hell after a match. Bring an overnight bag with your toothbrush and makeup, but you won’t need pajamas.”

        She gently cupped Sheila’s pussy affectionately before continuing. “And I want you to trim this forest down a little. Or even shave it completely off. As pretty as your pubic hair is, a bald pussy will make you look and feel ten years younger.”

        Sheila nodded as she reached for her bra. Now she’d have to figure out how one went about shaving one’s own pubic mound since she had never even trimmed her verdant bush of red hair. Maybe I’ll even buy some eucalyptus scented body wash, she thought.

        Oh, and of course, then she’d have to figure out how she was going to tell her husband that she would be spending the weekend at a college soccer team slumber party, being used as a sex-toy by any or all of those sexy young women. I should probably leave that last little detail out, she thought with a giggle.

        As sated as she was, Sheila shivered with excitement. She was looking forward to being the soccer team slut.
    
     My underwear was soaked and my pussy was throbbing long before I finished reading the story. I had first reached for the waistband of my panties when Courtney had said, “Kiss it.” Then I’d remembered Amanda’s command:

       And Jennifer, do not touch yourself while you read.

     Oh you nasty little vixen, I thought. You knew what this story would do to me. I don’t know how you knew, but you did. Hours earlier, I thought I had successfully rebuffed Amanda’s advances, but I was wrong. She’d played me like an experienced fisherman, playing out her line, only to suddenly jerk on the pole until I was hooked.

     Sure, I’d made it through the story without touching myself, but it turned out to be a Pyrrhic victory. She had beaten me and now I would submit to her. I didn’t know when or where or how she would claim me but I would soon find out because she, somehow, already knew that she owned me.

     Half a lifetime ago, another woman had said those same simple words to me. “Get on your knees and kiss it!” Only it hadn’t been a suggestion, it had been a command. And when I didn’t drop to my knees immediately, I was forcibly stripped. Eventually my panties were ripped from my body and I was utterly humiliated. I was also wet. Very, very wet.

     Unlike Sheila, I did have prior experience with other women. During my college years, I had been forced (at first) to submit to dominant women like Courtney, learning the hard way of my submissive nature. After four years of school, I had left that behind once I got my degree and had been only with men ever since, culminating in my marriage to my husband.

     Now, I was so desperate for release that I was almost moaning with frustration. Then a thought suddenly occurred to me. A loophole! I took a quick look at my phone to confirm what I was thinking. And Jennifer, do not touch yourself while you read. WHILE YOU READ! I wasn’t reading, so I was now free to pleasure myself, right?

     I gleefully stripped off my panties. Just then I heard my husband coming up the stairs and I immediately changed my plans. I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say Don got very lucky that night.

     The next day was hard. I was nervous with anticipation and more than a little apprehension. When Amanda didn’t show up for class I almost lost it. By the time the final class was over, I was a wreck. That's when my phone buzzed with a two-line text, again from the blocked number.

   The first line said 9PM. The second line was an address, not too far from the campus.

     I immediately called Don to see if his poker game was this week and it wasn’t. He plays once or twice a month, while slightly less often, I go out with a group of other instructors (all female). We call it Girls Night Out. When he confirmed that he would be home tonight, I told him about an impromptu GNO and I was good to go.

     The intervening hours passed in a blur. I fixed dinner and we had a nice meal with Nathan and Jacob talking non-stop, although I confess that I have no idea what they talked about. After dinner, Don brought out their favorite movie and made some popcorn while I got dressed. Then it was time to go.

   

——— end of Part 2 ———

More stories by Remington555

[Remington555]

Part 3
   
      I arrived at two minutes past the appointed hour. Amanda lived in a small duplex on a street lined with small duplexes. The driveway was empty but I parked on the street and walked up to the door. As I lifted my arm to knock on the door, I spotted a hand-lettered sign that said NAKED ZONE and paused with my fist in the air. While I pondered the implication of the sign the door opened and Amanda said crossly, “You’re late.”

        I momentarily forgot the sign and took a step forward to enter the duplex. Blocking the entrance, Amanda held up a hand, palm out. “You can’t come in until you’re properly dressed.” She smirked and went on, “Or undressed I guess I should say,” pointing to the sign. “Now strip!”

        I stared at her dumbly, not quite understanding until she twirled her index finger impatiently. I said dumbly, “Wait. You want me to undress… out here?” I looked up and down the street. There were a lot of buildings visible, but I didn’t see any people. Who knew how many were looking out their windows though. Darkness had fallen, but the porch was brightly lit with a flood lamp. There might as well have been a spotlight on me.

        “The sooner you’re naked the sooner you can come in.” As she answered she reached out and pulled the zipper down my front. I had decided to wear a simple summer jumper with a front zipper since it was easy to get in and out of. In a daze I shrugged out of the shift and put it in her outstretched hand and just stood there for a moment in my black bra and red thong panties. Without really thinking about it I had chosen the same underwear she had ordered me to wear earlier in the week.

        I was looking up and down the street again when she snapped her fingers and said impatiently, “Bra!” I unhooked it and handed it over. Checking the street once more, I quickly stepped out of my panties and even as I handed them to her, I began to lubricate. Now stark naked, I took a step forward but she held up a hand. “Hold on, not just yet.”

        Exasperated, I snapped, “Amanda, I’m naked in the street. I have nothing else to take off!”

        “Geez, Jennifer, don’t get your panties in a wad.” She snorted, sounding amused, and went on, “Oops. Bad choice of words I guess,” holding up her hand with the wisp of my red nylon thong twirling around her index finger.

        I desperately checked the street again as she dropped my clothes on a table by the door and picked up something else, which she handed to me. “Put this on.”

        Looking down I saw that she had handed me a leather dog collar.

        If you’ve never been ordered to wear a dog collar, trust me when I say it’s embarrassing to wear one around your neck. It’s like you’re being told that you’re not really a person, just an animal, someone’s pet. This collar had a silver tag shaped like a bone clipped to it. It was nearly three inches long and the words AMANDA’S BITCH were engraved on it. I snapped it around my neck, again feeling utterly humiliated. I wasn’t even inside yet and I was already very wet.

        I can’t speak for all submissives of course, but for me, humiliation and degradation are like aphrodisiacs. I would try to explain why that is, but the fact is, no one has ever been able to explain it to me. All I know is the more humiliated I am, the more aroused I get. Right now, my pussy was well on the way to becoming a fountain.

        Amanda clipped a leash on the collar and finally led me inside before closing the door. A quick glance around showed a fairly small living room, with a couch, love seat and two chairs grouped around a wall mounted television.

        Ahead to the left was a short hall that led to the bedrooms, and to the right was the kitchen/dining area. With my head down I was just following Amanda as she led me with the leash. She turned to the right and stopped. I immediately heard hooting and clapping and looked up to see three co-eds sitting at a table with open textbooks scattered in front of them. One girl was a brunette, two were blondes, one with long hair and one with short hair. The short-haired blonde was wearing glasses.

        It’s a miracle I could stand up because another wash of humiliation flooded through me and most all of my blood rushed to my face, neck and shoulders. My love juices were beginning to flow freely. I was worried that my arousal might start dripping down my thighs, which would be even more degrading.

        The clapping stopped and the long-haired blonde said, “Damn. Amanda sure has a knack for finding hot 30-something sluts!”

        “I know, right?” agreed the short-haired blonde. Somehow it didn’t surprise me that I wasn’t the first older woman that Amanda had seduced.

        “How old is the bitch?” chirped the brunette.

        After seeing that I was exposed to not only Amanda but three other co-eds I had turned redder than an overripe tomato, and was looking down at my feet again. It wasn’t until Amanda gave a gentle tug on my leash that I realized I was the only one who knew the answer to that question, and that I was supposed to answer it, even though it hadn’t been directed at me.

        “Th-thirty-two,” I said without looking up.

        Amanda slapped me on the ass and said, “Enough chit-chat ladies. If you’ll excuse us…” There were more encouraging hoots as she tugged on the leash again, and led me to the second bedroom with a queen-sized bed that took up over half of the room. She unclipped the leash from my collar and told me to get up on the bed while she quickly stripped off her clothes, letting them drop haphazardly on the floor.

        After arranging some pillows against the headboard, she found a comfortable position where she a good view of her body. Motioning me between her legs, she said, “Now what was that we decided… oh, yes. Something… blah blah blah… until I scream!” Pulling her knees up until her feet were flat against the mattress she gave me the same predatory grin I’d seen in the classroom when this all started, and pointed to her crotch. No ambiguity there.

        Amanda had barely started lubricating so I spent some time spreading saliva over her, more light teasing than anything else. I soon found that she had specific ideas about what she wanted me to. She began to direct me, both with words and by moving my head. Her pleasure slowly began to rise and I could tell she was getting worked up. Just as I thought she was about to climax, she stopped me cold.

        Purring happily, Amanda used her own fingers briefly before indicating that I should get back to work. I leisurely brought her along until it once again seemed she was about to crest. Then she stopped me again and I began to understand what she was doing.

        It’s called edging. Working someone up until they are just about to climax and then denying them the physical release of orgasm. Sometimes it’s used as punishment for submissives, deliberately exciting them, allowing them to get close and then leaving them on the very brink of ecstasy, desperately wanting to finish.

        I’d had it done to me once, in my other life, when I’d done… something that displeased my mistress. It’s one of the most frustrating experiences you can imagine. Knowing that you’re going to be driven higher and higher but then denied a release, over and over again, could drive you nearly insane when you had no idea when (or even if) you’d be allowed to finish.

        It had been just after midnight when my mistress handcuffed me to my bed and spent hours tormenting me, using a feather duster, vibrators and dildos. The gray light of dawn was visible in the window when she abruptly left the room, leaving me still bound to the bed. Lying on a sheet soaked with my desire, I was moaning, whimpering, crying, and pleading. I was half insane with the need to cum and she left me there in my misery until nearly noon.

        When she had finally returned and violently taken me with her strap-on I had a string of the most incredible orgasms of my life. The intensity of each succeeding climax was explosive and I eventually lost consciousness after having uncountable orgasmic releases. By then, I’d been handcuffed to my bed for over twelve hours.

        I slept for nearly nine hours and it was dark outside when I awoke, the room only dimly lit by the bedside lamp. I immediately noticed that I was no longer bound, and that the bed now had fresh sheets. My mistress was sitting quietly in a chair beside the bed, patiently waiting for me to come back to the land of the living. When she saw that I was awake, she spoke five words and then walked out of the semi-dark room. Don’t ever disappoint me again.

        That experience had helped persuade me to leave that lifestyle behind and I hadn’t been with a woman since then, until tonight. I had found happiness with my husband and our two sons but now I had to wonder what Amanda really wanted from me. I didn’t know if I could break away again, but it seemed that it was more of a game to her than a serious attempt at being a dominatrix. All I could do was play this out and see where it led.

        Edging for Amanda was an entirely different matter since she had full control over both of our bodies. Again and again she would allow me to drive her close to the brink and then choose to back away. Over the next hour (or maybe longer) I lost count of how many times she retreated from the precipice. Every time I thought she might want to finally climax I would shift my attention to her clit, but she kept me away from it time after time.

        Now there was a little more urgency and I was wondering if she was really ready to finish when I heard the bedroom door open and then close. Intent on what I was doing, I thought nothing of it as I continued to pleasure Amanda. After a minute or two a voice near the doorway said, “Wrap it up Amelia, we don’t have all night.”

        Since the comment wasn’t directed to me, I paid no atten—Wait! Did she say Amelia? Who the hell is Amelia? I’d been face fucking Amanda for over an hour. Hadn’t I?

        Amanda (Amelia?) had been weaving her fingers through my hair as she guided my movements for most of the time we’d been going at it. Before I could lift my head to look across the room and see who had spoken, her fingers tightened into fists, her grip on my hair preventing me from moving my head at all. She growled, “Focus bitch! Take me home. Now!” Reminded that this was not a mutual lovemaking session, I attacked her clit with a vengeance.

        This time she allowed me to push her off the cliff at the top of the mountain. She screamed as her body exploded into orgasm and I saw a clear image in my head of her one sentence suggestion in the classroom. I will make make you lick my pussy until I scream and come all over your face. Mission accomplished. Her body was thrashing violently as her climax seemed to go on without end. My head was squeezed hard by the vise of her fleshy thighs even as I licked and sucked the nectar seeping out of her pulsating pussy.

        Breathing heavily, her body suddenly seemed to go limp, her arms and legs falling to the mattress. When she was as motionless as a mannequin, I lifted my head and looked across the dimly lighted room. I saw the short-haired blonde girl who had been at the table, sans glasses, casually leaning against the door and watching the bed. Smiling faintly, she slowly reached up and pulled the wig off her head. Now she looked very much like Amanda, a student in my creative writing class.

        I turned to look at the sweaty-faced girl I’d been fucking for who knows how long. She looked very much like Amanda, a student in my creative writing class. I looked back across the room. Just when I concluded that I’d lost my mind, my brain put all the pieces together and I blurted the obvious. “You’re identical twins!”

        Although panting slightly, the girl I had been servicing and was still on top of deadpanned, “Told you she’d catch on quick.”

        Across the room, Amanda burst into hearty laughter and eventually said, “Yeah, I know. But I never get tired of seeing the look on their faces when the penny drops.” Further proof that I was not the first thirty-something woman that Amanda, who was barely out of high school, had seduced.

        Tossing the wig onto a dresser, Amanda said, “So how many mountains did you climb Amelia?”

        “Six,” Amelia said contentedly. “Or maybe seven, I’m not really sure. I am sure there was one monster O there at the end. This bitch sure does know how to lick a girl’s pussy, that’s for sure!” She reached out and tousled my hair, something I’ve seen my husband do many times to our beagle’s head while he was cooing, Who’s a good girl? I guess that meant I was a good girl too, for a pet.

        Amanda giggled, sounding more like a middle school girl than a college co-ed, and said, “That much I saw. Shit Amelia, I think half the neighborhood could hear you screaming.” She turned back to me, “Jennifer, I believe you’re already intimately acquainted with my sister, Amelia. We are indeed identical twins, and we share everything, including our pets.”

        That’s when I noticed that she was naked, except for a harness around her waist. She was idly fondling her strap-on cock and I inhaled sharply as I reasoned that she didn’t plan on using it to fuck her sister. Maybe they did that to each other and maybe they didn’t, but the way it seemed to me is that my presence wasn’t necessary if that was what she had in mind.

        No, I was pretty sure that I was about to be granted a release after all the effort I’d put in to pleasuring Amelia. Amanda positioned me on my hands and knees, pressed the length of the dildo between my butt cheeks vertically and used her fingers to toy with me. Soon enough I was begging her to fuck me, just as she had predicted I would in her poem.

        Much later one of the twins tossed me a fluffy blue towel and pointed out the bathroom. After Amanda had taken me with her strap-on (which she did with skill and abandon for who knows how long) Amelia had returned and the teenage beauties had shown me a concupiscence that left all of us exhausted.

        Amanda had relinquished the strap-on to her sister, who mounted me while Amanda straddled my head and rode my face… until I made her scream. In the missionary position with Amanda facing my feet, I could hear them exchanging wet sloppy kisses, but of course, all I could see was Amanda’s round teenage butt and the delicate pink folds of her sex.

        It was well after midnight when I emerged from the shower, having washed off the copious fluids that covered half my body. After drying off I wrapped the large towel around me and headed for the living room to retrieve my clothes. Amanda (I think) sat on the love seat wearing red flannel pajamas decorated with fluffy white sheep.

        When I saw that my clothes were not on the table next to the door where they’d been left I said, “Um, where did you put my clothes?” I had started to say Amanda but changed my mind even as I spoke since I wasn’t sure which twin she was. I found out immediately.

        “Oh, Amelia didn’t want anything to happen to them so she locked them in your trunk. And she moved your car into the driveway. I hope that’s okay.”

        “Uh, sure. I guess. Would you mind getting them for me?”

        Instead of answering, she tossed me the key fob for my car. Something about the look on her face told me I wouldn’t be able to pop the trunk open and find my clothes neatly stacked in plain view. Her next words confirmed that.

        “Don’t worry about it Jennifer. You’re decent and you don’t have far to go. Besides, it’s the middle of the night.”

        I looked down at the towel wrapped around me, and asked incredulously, “You expect me to drive home wearing nothing but a towel?”

        “Hey, all your naughty bits are covered.” She shrugged and I got the feeling she was trying not to smirk. “It’s up to you really.” She stood up as she continued. “Listen, I’m really glad you came over and not just because I won twenty bucks from Amelia.”

        I said nothing but I’m sure I had a puzzled look on my face. She went on to explain.

        “My silly sister bet me twenty bucks that you wouldn’t show up tonight. Like I said, I’m really glad you did. We should do this again real soon.”

        I realized that she’d been guiding me across the room when she opened the door and we took two steps outside. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big hug. She whispered in my ear, “Goodnight my sexy new pet,” as she broke the embrace, giggling as she went inside. Just before the door slammed shut, I saw her arm waving the towel that was no longer wrapped around me.

        Shit. For the second time tonight I was standing on a brightly lit porch as naked as the day I was born. One final humiliation to seal my submission. And yes, if you must know, my vagina immediately began to get wet.

        I made a dash for my car, stabbing blindly at the buttons on the remote. I was rewarded with a welcome CHIRP and the sound of the door locks granting me access to the vehicle. I fell into the driver’s seat, slammed the door and hit the lock button. I sat there for a minute, my heart racing. Amanda had been right, I didn’t have far to go and it was after midnight. I could probably make it home without incident, and once there I could drive right into the garage. The garage!

        “Oh fuck!” I blurted out loud. In a panic I nearly tore off the lid to the center console looking for the garage remote. I nearly cried when I found it exactly where it was supposed to be. I was so relieved (and a little surprised) that the devious twin vixens hadn’t hidden that too since without it I would have had to park in my driveway and walk three-quarters of the way around the house to the front door.

        I made it home safely and the worst problem I had to deal with was the cream that would have been soaked up by my panties, if I’d had them on. Though it was a gooey mess, the seat was vinyl and easy to clean up. Fortunately, it didn’t leave a permanent stain.

        I took another shower. Just after I had kissed my sleeping sons on the forehead and slipped into bed beside my snoring husband, my phone buzzed with a text. It was past two o’clock in the morning so I was sure it was from Amanda, and I was right.

               Sweet dreams teach.
               I’ll see you Monday in class.
               And a week from Sunday, 2pm.

        There were a half-dozen kissing emojis under the last line. I sighed as I set the phone down.

        What had I gotten myself into?
      


More stories by Remington555

[staci]

excellent.

[Remington555]

The whole time I was writing this story, I was trying to figure out how Amanda knew which buttons to push. A week after posting the last part of the story, I figured it out. However, since I never go back and try to revamp or expand a story after it's finished, I decided to write an epilogue to the story instead.

Remmy

[Remington555]

 

Epilogue

           It was reading Soccer Slut that had finally snuffed out the last of my resistance. What I had never figured out was how Amanda seemed to know just the right buttons to push. I finally found out that following weekend. I met the author of that erotic story (subsheila) when Amanda introduced her to me, “Jennifer, I’d like you to meet my Aunt Sheila.”

         Sheila smiled as she shook my hand. “Hello Jennifer. It’s nice to see you again. It’s been a long time.” You see, Sheila and I had gone to school together so we had been acquaintances, although we had never been friends. We did however, have some mutual friends, including her roommate, Sarah.

           Sarah and I had known each other intimately since we had both been pets of the same mistress. As it turned out, Sheila and Sarah had spent many hours talking about sex and submission, which in effect had laid the groundwork for Sheila’s submission to Courtney several years later.

           When Amanda had told her aunt that she was going to seduce her creative writing teacher, Sheila had helped her lay out a detailed plan which they fully expected to result in my submission to the teenage co-ed. I had played right into her hands when I'd asked for anonymous suggestions from the class.

           The plan became even more detailed when Amanda showed her my picture from the yearbook and Sheila recognized me. The poem that had left me weak in the knees had been written well in advance of that day’s class.

           When Amanda had walked out of my classroom that Thursday afternoon, leaving me standing there with dripping wet red panties, it had been a deliberate and calculated move. That was to be followed by letting me stew a while before sending me a link to Soccer Slut late that evening and the challenge to read it without touching myself.

           Skipping class the next day had also been carefully planned, as had the timing of the text with only a time and location. Amanda had been so sure that I was hooked that she hadn’t hesitated to accept Amelia’s bet that I wouldn’t show up that evening. I had been skillfully seduced and even knowing that, I didn’t mind.

         In spite of her online username (TeenDom) Amanda wasn’t truly a dominatrix. Amelia described it best when she said, “Amanda’s just a bossy little bitch who likes to have her way with people.” I was surprised to find out that Amelia was the elder of the two by about an hour. I’d always believed that it was the firstborn who had the upper hand in the complex relationship between a set of twins. You learn something new every day.

           Amanda and I tired of each other at about the same time not long after the next term began in January, but not until we’d shared a torrid three months of sweaty sexual debauchery. Since then, I have reverted back to having sex only with my husband, but I won’t be surprised if (or when) I come face to face with the next Amanda.

——— The End ———

More stories by Remington555