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Pt. I – “Hot For Teacher”
I got the idea while standing in the detention line, or, as they call it in this all-boys, catholic high school, “JUG”, for “Justice Under God”. But the jugs I was thinking about at the moment belonged to one Becky Beakman. “Ballbreaker Beakman” was one of the very few female teachers in this temple of testosterone, and she had a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore. She took an almost sadistic delight in making life as miserable as possible for her students. Whether assigning weekend-killing term papers, or berating students for wrong answers, she had earned the contempt of practically every student in the school. She was especially hard on the jocks, like me. Granted, we weren’t the sharpest crayons in the box, which is why I was still a senior at 19.
The real kicker was that Ballbreaker Beakman was drop-dead gorgeous! She was tall, 5’10” easy, model thin, but with tits and an ass that any playmate of the month would envy. And she went to great lengths to display this voluptuous body as much as the school dress code would allow. Therefore, every red-blooded boy in the school had a lust/hate relationship with this she-devil. On any given day, half of the guys standing in JUG were there courtesy of BB. And today, I was one of ’em. My crime? Artistic license.
I’m a pretty fair artist, mostly draw comic book type stuff. As BB was droning on about Shakespearean sonnets, I was giving her the Wonder Woman treatment, you know, wind-blown hair cascading down over gravity-defying breasts. Of course, in BB’s case, that didn’t require a great stretch of the imagination. I had just about finished a full torso illustration when I heard her stop in mid-sentence. I had been so absorbed in my drawing that I hadn’t noticed that she had begun walking up and down the aisles between the desks. And now she was standing right over my left shoulder. Slowly closing my notebook, I turned my head and stared straight into those magnificent breasts, heaving with barely controlled rage, threatening to burst through her thin, lavender silk shirt. I looked up. Framed in a mane of silky blonde hair, those sparkling green eyes were raining daggers of pure death upon me. She held out her hand. No words were needed. I held out the notebook, and she snatched it from me. In an icy voice she said “JUG, Mr. Finch. Five days”, and strode purposely to the front of the classroom. As I watched her perfect ass twitch away under her tight, black mini skirt, I thought, “Shit! 5 Days! That’s 5 practices! And we’re playing State next week. The coach is gonna pull me from first string!” I decided then and there, the bitch had to pay. And now, standing in the JUG line, I knew just how to do it.
As soon as the vice principle dismissed us, I ran to the parking lot. BB’s new red VW bug was parked in the reserved teacher’s spot. Perfect. I ran up to the second floor, to the AV room. I had volunteered to be president of the AV club, because my counselor said that with my grades, I’d need more than football on my application if any college were going to look at me twice. Now that decision was going to pay off. I took the newest camcorder from the locker and stuffed it in my book bag. I locked up the AV room and ran down to my car. I pulled around to an empty spot, not too near the exit, and waited. After about 20 minutes, BB came out of the building, got in her bug, and took off. I followed her from a safe distance. She drove like a bat out of hell, and it was difficult to keep up without getting too close. Fortunately, that bright red bug was easy to spot. Before long, she turned onto a back road, and parked in front of a small ranch house. I pulled over on the other side of the street, about a half a block away. She got out, collected her briefcase and a large pile of papers from the front seat, and headed up the walk. Bayan Eskort Before she reached the door, it opened, and an attractive brunette appeared. Sister? Roommate? I realized that there was a lot I didn’t know about my evil English teacher, but I was going to find out.
As I drove home at a leisurely pace, I went over the plan in my mind. I would return to BB’s house after dark, sneak around the back, and find a bedroom or bathroom, anything with an open window. With any luck, I would be able to get some footage of her naked. I would copy the video on top of a few of the many hundreds of boring instructional tapes in the library. I would then drop some subtle hints to a few fellow classmates. News like this would travel like wildfire, and by this time next week, every boy in that school would have gotten an eyeful of Ballbreaker Beakman buck naked! I got home, did my usual half-assed job on my homework, and spent most of dinner trying to conceal the raging hard-on that I’d had since leaving Beakman’s house. At 8:00, I announced that I was going to meet some friends at the mall, and took off. I made it to my destination just as dusk gave way to dark. I parked where I had before. I could see the house from the side. The rooms in the front of the house were lit, but the back windows were still dark. I pulled the video camera from my bookbag, and walked stealthily (I hoped) toward the house. Low hedges surrounded the whole house. I ducked down below them, and made my way to the back. I looked at the first darkened window. It appeared to be the bathroom, but the lower half was frosted glass. No good. I continued around the back till I came to another window. It was opened about 3 inches. Creeping through the hedge, I peered cautiously inside. I could make out the outline of a bed. Bingo! I just hoped it was Ballbuster’s bedroom, and not her sister’s or roommate’s or whatever she was. Hey, either way, I was bound to get something.
I had gotten the lens cap off of the camera, and was just starting to test the auto focus, when the light came on. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. Ballbreaker walked in. She must have changed since coming home, because she was wearing a pair of denim shorts that cut deliciously up the crack of her ass, and a thin, white tank top. She wore no bra, as the dark circles of her nipples attested, yet her breasts stood firmly forward. I watched her, slack-jawed, as she opened the top dresser drawer, fumbling for something. Then I remembered, “Oh yeah! The camera!” I hit the record button. The camera whirred and clicked into action. The noise seemed deafening to me, but she didn’t seem to hear a thing. I looked through the viewfinder at a clear shot of the whole room. The window was just to the right of the foot of the bed. The dresser was against the left wall, with a mirror mounted above it. Standing at the dresser, with her back to me, BB pulled the tank top over her head in one fluid motion. Her breasts were reflected in the mirror; perfect, smooth white globes, topped with the most delectable nipples I had ever seen. My “Wonder Woman” drawing had been more accurate than I had imagined! No wonder she freaked! She dropped the tank top to the floor, and unsnapped her shorts. They were so tight, she had to work them down her hips, wiggling her delicious ass provocatively as she went. The shorts fell to the floor, and I was staring at the butt that launched a thousand wet dreams. As she stepped out of her shorts, I was praying that she wouldn’t quickly grab a nightgown from the dresser, depriving me of a clear shot of her pussy. I needn’t have worried.
She reached into the top drawer and pulled out a black leather collar, alternately studded with rhinestones and silver rings. She placed the collar around her neck, pushing her long blond hair aside so as not to catch it in the clasp. She walked to the foot of the bed and turned toward where I stood concealed. I nearly dropped the camera. Her pussy was completely shaved, save for a small, heart-shaped patch perched invitingly just above her slit. And, yes, she was a natural blonde. She walked to the center of the foot of the bed, and turned, facing the headboard. She clasped her lowered hands in front of her, and bowed her head. “What the fuck is this?” I wondered “‘Now I lay me down to sleep’??”
Just then I heard a voice from the other room call out “Are you prepared?”
“Yes, Mistress” came her barely audible reply. ‘MISTRESS?!?’ I had no time for the shock to register before the woman I had seen earlier strode purposefully into the room. She had changed clothes, too, and how! Her shiny black leather miniskirt ended just inches above the tops her thigh-high spike heeled boots. She was shorter than BB, not as voluptuous, with harrow hips and a smooth, flat stomach. Her tits, though smaller than Beakman’s, were proudly displayed in a matching black leather corset, her dark areolas peeked out over the edge of the binding leather. She was darker than BB, with brown hair that was pulled back in a severe bun. Bright red lipstick and dark eye shadow gave her a decidedly sinister countenance. In her hands she held a small, but evil looking whip.
She had barely entered the room when she stopped, and stared at the spot on the floor where Becky had tossed her clothes. With an extremely disapproving look on her face, she barked “What are those?”
BB was practically trembling as she meekly replied “m..m..my clothes, Mistress.”
“Pick them up, NOW!” the dominatrix commanded. Becky shuffled quickly around the bed, her gaze fixed on the floor. As she bent over to pick up her clothes, her tormentor brought the whip down sharply on her upturned buttocks. Becky let out a stifled gasp, as a red welt began to glow on her left cheek. She dropped the shorts and shirt in a wicker basket. Then she turned, with her hands clasped before her and her head bowed, and whispered “Thank you, Mistress.”
“Oh, don’t thank me yet”, the lady in leather sneered, “I’ve barely begun. Assume the position!” Becky moved obediently back to the foot of the bed. She bent forward at the waist, and lay down on the bedspread, her arms spread out on either side. Though the bed was fairly high, her long legs caused her butt to stick up in the air. From between her legs, I could see her pouting, smooth cunt lips peeking wetly at me. This was too much. My hard-on was threatening to burst through my jeans. I had to do something. Steadying the camera with my right hand, I unzipped my fly. Fishing my one-eyed monster out was no easy task. I was rock hard. Should’ve worn my baggies. Finally, it popped free, and I began slowly stroking as the bizarre scene continued to unfold. The lady in black sauntered over to her prostrate victim. She wedged the toe of one boot between Becky’s bare feet, and roughly kicked her legs apart. Her puckered asshole winked invitingly, while her moist pussy began to unfold like the petals of some exotic flower. Glistening wetness oozed slowly down her labia, collecting in a tiny droplet that clung to the tip of her engorged clit.
The Mistress dragged the tassels of her whip lazily back and forth across Becky’s proffered ass, occasionally letting them dip down toward her pussy. “So, we’ve decided to live like a pig, have we?” she asked, bringing the whip down with a resounding SMACK on the word “pig”. Becky’s ass flexed involuntarily under the lash.
“No, mistress.” She whimpered.
“No?” the Mistress asked incredulously, “well, then have you simply decided that you don’t have to pick up after yourself anymore.” Again and again the whip came down, accenting Mistress’s diatribe with painful cracks. Mistress continued to berate her helpless submissive, using the whip for punctuation, With each lash, Becky’s ass grew redder, and soon it glowed like a nightlight. Becky was thrashing her head back and forth, revealing and obscuring her face, as she tried to answer her mistress’s demands between cries and whimpers. When she looked in my direction, her face was a mask of conflicting emotions. Her eyes were welled with tears, yet the sensuous “O” of her mouth was an expression of pure lust.
Finally, the mistress threw the whip aside and declared, “If you’re going to live like an animal, then you’re going to get fucked like one!” With that, she grabbed the side of her leather skirt, where a row of silver snaps ran down, and with a single motion ripped it off. I nearly let out a gasp. There, hanging between the “Mistress’s” legs was at least 8 inches of hard cock! She was a HE! Or he was a She! Whatever it was, it was hung like a horse! “Mistress” spread Becky’s legs roughly apart, further exposing her gaping pussy. He/she positioned that enormous tool at her opening and, with a single lunge, buried it balls deep in her hot hole. Becky let out an animal wail, halfway between a cry of pain and a moan of ecstasy. Mistress leaned forward onto Becky’s ass, propped up on his/her arms, just grinding that hunk of meat into BB’s writhing pussy. Then he/she began slowly withdrawing, bringing almost the entire glistening shaft into view, before pounding back into her. Slowly at first, then faster and faster they fucked like dogs in heat. I couldn’t take it any longer. With a groan that threatened to burst from my throat, I came Gobs of semen splashed onto the wall, running down is sticky rivulets. When the last wave of orgasm subsided, I remembered where I was. Momentarily panicked, I looked back through the viewfinder. Whew! They were still at it, so focused on their own fucking that they didn’t hear the sounds I surely must have made.
The “Mistress” kept pounding into Becky for what seemed like hours. Finally, he/she stiffened, and let out a deep, resounding groan as he shot his load into Becky’s hungry pussy. Becky, too let out a squeal of sublime satisfaction, as she came in unison with her perverted prince. Mistress collapsed, and for a few moments just lay atop Becky breathing heavily. Then he/she rolled over onto his back. Even spent and half- soft, that cock was huge as it lay glistening on Mistress’s thigh. From Becky’s inflamed red pussy, cum leaked out by the spoonful.
By this time, I figured I had pressed my luck as far as it would go. I backed away from the window. As I stepped back through the hedge, the silence was shattered by a blood-curdling shriek! A stray cat had wandered into the back yard and managed to position itself right where my foot was headed. I jumped about a foot, releasing the squashed kitty, which took off like a shot. I figured that was a good idea, and bolted after it. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the blind on the bedroom window go up, and two worried faces looking around. I managed to make in to my car, and duck behind it just in time to see the front door open. Mistress came out onto the porch, wearing a bathrobe, scanning intently up and down the street. Becky stayed inside, with just her head poking around the door, obviously still naked. Eventually, they both went back inside. I crept into my car and put it in neutral, coasting down the street and around a corner before starting the engine. Then I floored it, and headed for home. I had gone three or four blocks before I looked down and saw my spent cock hanging out of the front of my jeans. I burst out laughing, as the full realization of what I had accomplished dawned on me. I had come in hopes of catching Ballbreaker Beakman in the nude. Instead, I had video of her being whipped and fucked by her transsexual dominatrix/lover. This was too good to simply share with my fellow students. This was worth more… much more.
To Be Continued…
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