The Teacher's Pet
It's Bisexual Awareness Week! In honor of this storied occasion, I'm posting THE TEACHER'S PET, my short story that's featured in FELT TIPS, for your reading pleasure. It stars Mistress Nora and Little Miss Sheridan Stratford. If you enjoy the story and want to read more office supply erotica, please buy FELT TIPS. All profits from FELT TIPS go to Adopt-A-Classroom to help underprivileged schools afford supplies. Since its release we've donated $4000.
Enjoy! And please, celebrate Bisexual Awareness Week irresponsibly.
The Teacher’s Pet
By Tiffany Reisz
One of these days Sheridan would learn that Mistress Nora heard everything. Memory of an elephant and one little random stray sentence uttered in her presence was as eternal as a topless photo posted on the Internet. She remembered the night she made the off-hand comment about teachers being among the various authority figures she’d always found attractive. She’d been at Kingsley’s for a party--not as a guest but as a servant. Nora, Kingsley, Griffin were all there along with a few of the more highly-favored submissives who’d been given the honor of serving the Dominants their dinner and wine.
“I don’t remember ever having crushes on my teachers,” Mistress Nora had said as she drained the last of her red wine. She snapped her fingers in Sheridan’s direction, and Sheridan returned to the Mistress’s side with the bottle. “Not in high school anyway. I only had eyes for You-Know-Who.”
Kingsley gave her a lascivious knowing grin.
“You-Know-Who was a teacher when he was eighteen. Taught modern languages at our school,” Kingsley reminded Nora after he too had finished his wine. She loved being around Kingsley when he’d had more than a glass. His French accent grew thicker, his hands wandered even more. “I used to stand outside his classroom and watch him. I’d never seen such alert students.”
“They must have been terrified of him, Monsieur,” Sheridan said as she poured for the Mistress. She stiffened slightly when she felt a hand on the back of her knee. She’d put on a little white cocktail dress, white strappy heels and no panties whatsoever before coming to serve at Kingsley’s table. The white dress Mistress Nora had picked out. The total lack of underwear? That had been Sheridan’s idea.
“Non, pas du tout,” Kingsley said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. “They adored that blond monster. Absolute devotion.”
“I know that feeling,” Mistress Nora said as she slid her hand up Sheridan’s thigh. Sheridan put a hand on the table to steady herself as the Mistress slipped one finger into her. “I hated school until him. But once I had him helping me with my math homework...let’s just say homework became a far pleasanter experience.”
“I always helped him grade the French homework.” Kingsley took a ripe red grape from a silver bowl and popped it into his mouth. “One red pencil and I could bleed all over those poor boys’ papers. It’s an accent aigu, not rocket science.”
And that’s when Sheridan had said it, rather under her breath and entirely off-hand: “I wish one my teachers had fucked me when I was in high school. That would have been so hot...illegal, but so hot.”
But she couldn’t be held accountable for a statement like that, could she? Not with Nora’s index finger tickling her cervix.
Mistress Nora hadn’t said a word about it that night, about Sheridan’s long-ago dream to be sexually used by one of her teachers. The conversation had moved on to other, safer subjects than the man Mistress Nora called You-Know-Who and Kingsley called The Blond Monster. That had been over a month ago...six weeks even. So it never occurred to Sheridan that one day she’d call to make an appointment with the Mistress and receive this as an answer
“Little Miss, I think we need to explore your erotic fascination with authority figures, authority figures other than powerful men in business suits. Dress like a school girl and wait in Kingsley’s playroom. Wear panties this time. That’s an order.”
Nora hung up before Sheridan could even utter her usual, “Yes, Mistress.”
Sheridan had gone to a public high school in Chicago and hadn’t worn uniforms, but she knew the Mistress had gone to parochial schools all her life. Something about that Catholic schoolgirl uniform just did it for Sheridan. Hopefully it would do it for the Mistress too.
She gave herself a once-over in the mirror in one of Kingsley’s bedrooms. She’d found a red and black pleated skirt and pulled it on and some white cotton panties. They seemed rather safe and schoolgirl-esque. A white polo shirt to match her white knee socks and saddle shoes completed her transformation. She’d arranged her blonde hair into pigtails with little white bows. At twenty-three, Sheridan still had the breasts of a fourteen-year-old girl, so she didn’t even bother with a bra. The Mistress had demanded panties. No other underwear had been mentioned.
As she looked at herself in the mirror, Sheridan felt the first rush of arousal. She loved scening with the Mistress. Why more women didn’t play with a Dominatrix was beyond her. As one of Mistress Nora’s very few female clients, Sheridan knew she occupied a rather privileged position. The men who came to the Mistress paid through the nose to get brutalized and beaten into a bloody pulp by the legendarily sadistic Dominatrix. Sheridan got the beatings too, but she got one thing the men didn’t get--orgasms hand-delivered by the infamous Little Red Riding Crop herself.
By the time Sheridan got to the playroom, she knew she was already starting to soak her white cotton panties. No one had the power to get her off quite like The Mistress. Nora knew all Sheridan’s secret fetishes--business suits, powerful authority figures, being treated like a little girl who existed solely to be used for another person’s sexual pleasure...
Sheridan opened the door to Kingsley’s playroom and nearly laughed out loud. It had been transformed from a BDSM dungeon, albeit a posh one, into a classroom--large rolling chalkboard and desk included. An old-fashioned student’s desk sat at the middle of the room in front of the chalkboard. She did laugh out loud at what the Mistress had written on the board--“Ms. Sutherlin.” Apparently she wasn’t to call her Mistress Nora today. Ms. Sutherlin...she could get used to that.
Sheridan took her seat at the desk and waited. She wasn’t sure how much time passed--five minutes, maybe ten. But it seemed like an hour of breathless impatience waiting for the Mistress to arrive. When the door opened behind her, Sheridan held her breath.
“Well, at least you’re on time for class today,” came a woman’s voice from over her shoulder, cold and stern. “You missed yesterday.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sutherlin. I didn’t mean to miss class.” Sheridan tried to sound as contrite as possible, and it came out sounding genuinely repentant. During her BDSM sessions with the Mistress, Sheridan put all her years of stage training to good use.
“You didn’t just miss class, Young Lady,” Nora said, coming to stand in front of Sheridan. “You missed a test.”
Sheridan looked up at Nora and nearly broke character with a smile. Usually Nora dressed in men’s style business suits for their sessions. Sheridan had such a fetish for Armani that merely being around a man or woman in such a suit could get her halfway to orgasm. But today the beautiful black-haired, green-eyed Dominatrix had gone all out to play the part of the stern and scary teacher. She wore a tight black pencil skirt, a white blouse tucked in, and black and white heeled spectator shoes. Her beautiful wavy black hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and she had on black retro-chic glasses. As if she didn’t look powerful and erotic enough, she even wore a black tie with a perfect Windsor knot at her neck. There wasn’t a straight high school boy in the world who wouldn’t drop to his knees in front of Ms. Sutherlin and pledge his eternal devotion. Sheridan certainly would.
“A test? I forgot about the test.” Sheridan laid her head down on her desk in absolute defeat.
“Yes, a test. You have a zero where a grade should be. Now what should we do about that, young lady? Leave it a zero?”
“I can do make-up work,” Sheridan said, raising her head and looking up at Nora. “I’ll do anything. A paper, a make-up test...anything.”
Sheridan nodded eagerly. “Absolutely anything. I have to get into a good college,” she said, almost laughing again. All her young life her father had drilled the importance of getting good grades into her. Good grades, good college, good life. Instead of college, she’d gone to Broadway, become an actress, and now made six-figures an episode on her TV show. But playing submissive to Mistress Nora...that was her favorite role.
“I’m sure we can come up with some make-up work you could do for me,” Nora said as she came to stand behind Sheridan’s desk. She gently tugged on one of Sheridan’s curling blond pigtails.
“I’m sure we could too, Ms. Sutherlin.”
As the Mistress stroked her hair, Sheridan closed her eyes and reveled in the touch of the two hands that knew her body as well as she knew her own. She’d played with Nora for a couple of years now, having sessions whenever the stress of the real world got to be too much for her. Lately that translated to almost every week. Nora--Ms. Sutherlin today--ran her fingers over the back of Sheridan’s neck before slipping her hand down the front of Sheridan’s shirt.
Sheridan gasped as Nora lightly plucked her left nipple. During their first session together, Nora had given Sheridan ample warning before every touch, every intimacy. Now as they’d played together so much, Nora knew exactly how to touch her. The more intrusive and possessive Nora was with her body, the more Sheridan liked it. For a few long and wonderful minutes, Nora did nothing but caress Sheridan’s breasts, teasing her nipples, bringing them to pert attention. Sheridan sat as still as she could, clinging hard to her chair as Nora dug inside her shirt.
Without warning Nora pulled her hand out of Sheridan’s collar and slapped the desk hard.
“Chalkboard. Now.” Sheridan stood up and nearly ran to the board. “Write ‘I will not miss a test ever again.’”
Sheridan picked up the chalk and began to write the words as instructed. But her handwriting quickly deteriorated as Nora pressed her body into Sheridan’s back and lifted her shirt over Sheridan’s breasts.
“Keep writing,” Nora whispered in her ear. “I didn’t say you could stop.”
“Yes, Ms. Sutherlin.” Sheridan swallowed as she tried to focus on the words. It wasn’t easy ignoring the pleasant things her teacher was doing to her bared breasts. Nora nipped at Sheridan’s ear and dropped a deep kiss onto her neck. In real life, Sheridan never found herself attracted to women. But Mistress Nora was no ordinary woman. The Dominatrix had twice the confidence and power of any man she’d ever met. Plus Sheridan was never expected to do anything to Nora in return. A Dominatrix’s body was off-limits to clients apart from the occasional kiss on the boot. Sheridan could relax completely with Nora and be touched, used, and fucked without any pressure to reciprocate. She lived with constant demands from directors, publicists, producers, agents, and the press. An hour of Nora’s time cost her four figures but she considered it worth every penny. She wasn’t buying sex. She was buying sanity.
“I know you weren’t sick yesterday,” Nora said, kneading both of Sheridan’s breasts at once. Sheridan moaned in the back of her throat. “I know you were just playing hooky. And we both know you’ll have to be punished for that.”
“Punished?” Sheridan’s voice quivered as she kept writing.
Nora pulled away from Sheridan, and she heard a desk drawer opening and closing. Then Nora was at Sheridan’s back again, but this time she pressed a hand into Sheridan’s throat.
“Punished,” Nora rasped into her ear. Sheridan looked down and watched as Nora pinched her nipple, then brought up a small black binder clip and clamped it onto the soft pink bud. Sheridan flinched, the slight pain sending a thrill like an electric current straight to her clitoris. “Severely punished.” Nora clamped her other nipple with a second binder clip.
Sheridan dropped the chalk as Nora grabbed her by the back of the neck, spun her toward the desk, and pushed her over. The drawer squeaked as Nora once again opened it. Sheridan didn’t even look to see what Nora had pulled out. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“It was a math test you missed yesterday. Let’s see if you can even count, Little Miss. Count by sevens for me. Don’t get one wrong.”
Something hit the back of Sheridan’s thighs, something long and hard and thin.
“Seven,” Sheridan said.
Another strike in the same spot and Sheridan gasped from pain.
A third blow hit a little lower...twenty-one...a fifth landed at the very top of her thighs, thirty-five...by seventy-seven, Sheridan’s thighs were on fire. Nora dropped her implement of torture on the floor and Sheridan saw what she’d been beaten with--a wooden yard stick.
“Good girl. Didn’t miss a single one.”
“Thank you, Ms. Sutherlin.”
“You really are a very good student even if you did miss a test yesterday. I think you’ll ace the make-up examination.”
“Examination?” Sheridan repeated, the word giving her a shiver of excitement. “I think I’m ready for an exam.”
“Let’s find out.”
Nora pulled the desk chair out and took her seat in it right behind Sheridan. She flipped Sheridan’s skirt up onto her back and pulled her panties all the way down and off Sheridan’s legs. With her high-heeled feet, Nora pushed Sheridan’s legs wide open.
With both hands, Nora began to examine Sheridan. She rubbed Sheridan’s already swollen clitoris while her fingers probed deep inside her body. Sheridan went limp against the wooden desk as Nora opened her wider and wider and delved deeper and deeper into her.
Nora never rushed this part of their scene. She knew Sheridan loved it too much, needed it too much. When men looked at a vagina, they only thought about how quickly they could stick their cock inside it. But Nora treated Sheridan’s genitals like a mystery that needed methodical study to solve.
With the pads of two fingers, Nora made tight, intense circles into Sheridan’s g-spot. The noises that escaped Sheridan’s lips were of the animal variety. Her nipples ached from the clips, her vagina growing wetter and hungrier with each passing second. She needed release so terribly she was almost ready to beg for it.
Only the discipline Nora had instilled in her kept Sheridan from pleading for more. The release would come in time. She had to be patient for it and let the Mistress have her delicious way with her.
Sheridan’s vaginal muscles contracted as Nora dug both thumbs into her and pulled her open wider.
“I think you’ll pass this exam, Little Miss,” Nora said. “I can see right inside you.”
Sheridan rested her forehead on the desk with a desperate groan. Nora pulled her hands out of Sheridan, gave her a viciously hard slap on the bottom, before standing up again.
“Up,” she ordered. Sheridan slowly stood, almost dizzy from desire. “Sit on the desk. Lay on your back.”
Sheridan didn’t hesitate before complying. On her back was easily her favorite place to be, especially around her Mistress.
Nora removed the first binder clip and caressed her sore nipple. The pleasure of the massage made the momentary pain more than worth it. The pain threw the pleasure into such stark relief that sex without pain these days almost always meant sex without pleasure as well. Nora removed the other binder clip.
“Thank you, Ms. Sutherlin.” Sheridan smiled in bliss. She thanked the Mistress every chance she had--thanked her for the punishment she deserved, thanked her for the release from it.
“Don’t thank me quite yet...” Nora reached back into the desk drawer and pulled out a clear plastic ruler. “Open wide for me.”
In any other setting, Sheridan would have taken that as an order to open her mouth. But with Nora, it meant to open her legs. Nora sat on the desk next to her hips, and pulled Sheridan’s left leg over her thighs. With the flat of the ruler, she dropped short sharp slaps onto Sheridan’s vulva and clitoris. Sheridan flinched and gasped at the combination of pain and pleasure all in one. Blood rushed to her hips and it took everything she had not to close her thighs.
The assault ended quickly and Sheridan could only pant for air as Nora dropped the ruler and began to finger her again.
“You’re wet, Little Miss,” Nora said. “I think I could fit my whole arm in you if I tried.”
“Please...” Sheridan had given up all her dignity by this point. “I need to come, Ms. Sutherlin.”
“I can tell. Can you?”
Sheridan raised her head and watched as Nora spread the wet lips open. She could see the wetness on Nora’s fingers, see her own swollen clitoris.
“Yes, Ms. Sutherlin.”
Once more the desk drawer opened and this time Nora pulled out a tube of lubricant and an impressively-sized vibrator. Nora had dozens of different sex toys that she used on Sheridan during their sessions, but the larger phallic vibrators were some of Sheridan's favorites. Her orgasms were always stronger during penetration but she could almost never orgasm during normal penetrative sex. Not with vanilla men anyway. They had no idea what to do with a girl like her. But Nora knew...oh, Nora knew everything...
Nora applied the lubricant to Sheridan with quick efficiency. The cold liquid soothed the burning but not the ache for orgasm.
Nora turned the vibrator onto a slow setting and slowly eased it into Sheridan. Her inner muscles gripped at it hungrily as it moved in deeper. Slowly in and quickly out She breathed, focusing only on the ceiling, on relaxing her whole body to take the toy all the way into her. With one hand Nora wielded the vibrator and with her other she played with Sheridan’s clitoris, rubbing it in tight circles while her whole body trembled from the inside out. The entire world fell away as Sheridan plummeted into subspace. She was nothing now, nothing but a body, a hole, an object to be used for another’s pleasure. She had no heart, no soul, no ego, no personality. She was nothing but the tightening inside her, the coiling of pleasure, the deep internal throbbing...the need, the all-consuming need...
Sheridan’s back arched off the table as she orgasmed so hard her muscles almost expelled the vibrator from her vagina. But Nora held it in as wave after wave of ecstasy racked her entire body. A second orgasm came hard on the heels of the first. She cried out, nearly in pain from the flood of sensations washing over her. Nora wouldn’t let her give up or give in.
“One more, Little Miss...just one more...”
Sheridan gripped the edge of the desk as Nora brought her to climax a third time. Her head came off the wood and her stomach muscles rippled from the powerful contractions that slammed into her. Finally Nora pulled the vibrator out of her and let Sheridan merely rest on the desk, her eyes closed, the world still a thousand miles away.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sheridan tried to see herself laying on the desk, her white shirt bunched up around her neck, her breasts bared, her skirt around her stomach, her thighs open and her naked body open to anyone who wanted to see her.
She’d never felt so peaceful.
“Lie still,” Nora ordered as she used a wet cloth to wipe the lubricant off Sheridan’s wet folds. She loved this moment above all other. Even more than the orgasms, she loved when Nora took care of her afterwards with the tenderness of a mother. She’d always check her body for damage, for blood or tearing, for broken skin from the beating. Sheridan could clean herself up, of course, but it was the pinnacle of submission to let another person tend to her most personal needs. Sometimes after their longer sessions, Nora would even give her a bath, and wash every inch of her inside and out.
Nora cupped the back of Sheridan’s neck and helped her come up off the desk to a sitting position. She pulled a bottle of water from the desk drawer, twisted the cap off, and let Sheridan drink while Nora pulled her shirt and skirt back into place, then slipped her panties back on her.
“Did I pass the test, Ms. Sutherlin?” she asked as Nora rubbed her lower back even as the last waves of orgasm dissipated. She felt utterly spent, completely emptied and entirely satisfied.
“Little Miss,” Nora said, giving Sheridan one soft and forbidden kiss, “you not only passed the test, you are officially the teacher’s pet.”