What is FELT TIPS? I'm glad you asked! FELT TIPS is the world's greatest anthology of office-supply-related erotica. Over forty authors donated stories and every cent of the proceeds goes toward a charity that supports underprivileged classrooms. FELT TIPS has been available as an eBook since December. Now it's available on Amazon in paperback.
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My story in FELT TIPS is called "The Teacher's Pet." It stars Mistress Nora and Sheridan and some strategically-placed binder clips.
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 couldn’t even say for
certain when she’d made the off-hand comment about teachers being among the
various authority figures she found attractive. It must have been at Kingsley’s
that night. 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. A few cute college professors, but back then, 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. Sheridan 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.
And 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 a uniform, 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. Sheridan 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 blond 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, a 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
half-way to orgasm. But today the beautiful black-haired, green-eyed Dominatrix
wore a tight black pencil skirt, a white blouse tucked in, black and white
heeled spectator shoes. Nora had gone all out to play the part of the stern and
scary teacher. She had her beautiful wavy black hair pulled back into a severe
bun and black retro-chic glasses on. 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.”
“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 importances 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 make 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.”
Do you want to find out what happens next? Buy FELT TIPS!