Her New Purchase

I notice something familiar about you as soon as I enter the room. I notice it from the top of the stairs, just after Mistress Larissa opens the heavy oak door and leads me inside. I see it even before you have a chance to see me for yourself. Unlike the four men shackled beside you, I sense something different about you, something special. I can't put my finger on it, not when I first walk in, so I follow Mistress down the steps to get a better look.

The room is quiet, so quiet I hear the click of my high heeled shoes upon the ancient stone floor. There's the sound of water too, from somewhere far off, perhaps a leaking pipe or the remnants of the earlier rain shower. It was warm upstairs, the humidity of the early evening still hanging heavy in the air, but the temperature turns cooler as soon as I step through the door. The view gets a lot better too.

Yes! You sense it too. You see something familiar about me as well. We both sense it. I see it in your eyes. I observe the way your body jumps as soon as you look up and notice when I am half way down the stairs. Do you recognize me? Do you know me? I wonder...

I continue down the steps in an attempt to solve the mystery. I must be careful where I place my feet, careful to keep my heels out of the numerous hazards in my path. The masonry is cracked. There is no railing. In some places a gap just the right size for my shoe opens between blocks. The dampness of the place leaves a wet slime on the wall; the floor makes everything around me look slippery.

We descend down the stairs into an unused room of the mansion. Perhaps it was once used for storage. Most certainly it was built as part of the original construction. The place looks like an ancient dudgeon, the kind of dudgeon I once toured in an old European castle. It looks like a place where a king might take his captured prisoners, where he could take his time to tease and torture them. A king maybe, but a queen better still! Your shackled form makes me consider the proper role of a Queen, and then I think about prisoners too. I also consider teasing and torture. I fantasize you as a prisoner and me as your sex-starved guard.

The temperature drops as we descend, but your presence serves to warm me. The others too, the four other men shackled upright beside you. Still, I feel a little cold. The room must be far below the surface. It is like entering a cave. It would certainly help if I was wearing a full set of clothing to keep me warm.

Mistress now begins the introductions. As soon as we get to the bottom of the stairs, she introduces you. Not with names, for captured slaves don't have names. She refers to you only as "her boys."

Boys? I like that! You could almost be boys, all five of you. So young, so innocent, but you are also most clearly men. Young men, still in your early 20s I take a guess, but then that's the way I prefer my men: Young. Naive. Maybe even virginal.

I suddenly remember. Yes! I think of School, back in college, and then I suddenly remember you. I knew there was something familiar about you. I was a teacher once, you know, and you were once a student. You used to be a student of mine, weren't you? That's right. Four years ago. Algebra class. Now I remember more clearly. You were most likely a sophomore at the time. That would make you, let me see, no more than 22 years old now. Young, yes, very nice. Indeed! You still are a boy...

My boy...

I wonder if you remember me. I would be surprised if you did. I looked different back then. Black plastic framed glasses. Hair bunched up in a bun at the top of my head. I probably looked the same as all your other teachers. Younger than most, but still a teacher, a teacher hired to teach young mean what they didn't want to learn. I also dressed a lot different back then too. More conservative, certainly, I usually wore a high necklined blouse and always a long skirt or pants. No way would I ever wear something like this to teach a class, to stand half clothed in front of a class full of male testosterone. The principle used to despise any teacher who showed even a hint of cleavage. She would have thrown me out the front door.

But I do remember you, boy. I remember you clearly. Those muscular biceps. That chiseled chest. And those lips that seem to be begging me to give them a deep, passionate kiss. I mean, have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror lately? You are fucking hot! You were hot back then. You look just as hot now. A teacher isn't supposed to look at her students that way. She's supposed to remain ambivalent, as they say, but with you it proved impossible.

I recall you were the dream date of every girl in school. Handsome, tanned, body built like a tank. Didn't you also surf? And weren't you one of the star football players? Yes, I remember now. You had the girls chasing you all over. Sometimes I would hear them gossip about you in the hallway, those giggling young women, talking about the latest dance, hoping you would ask them out. Silly little girls! They wouldn't know what to do with a guy like you. I'm sure they wanted to do all sorts of things, after the dance, like in the back seat of your car. A girl can think some very naughty thoughts around a guy like you. I know I did!

You'll have to excuse me for not recognizing you from the top of the stairs, but that was a few years ago. Plus, you look a lot different now. Well, perhaps not so much different. Your face remains the same. So do your biceps and that head of long blond hair. I still like the way your hair covers your ears and almost touches your shoulders. It makes you look almost like a girl, but of course you clearly are no girl. Oh no, you're not! I can see that for myself. Of course there is one more difference between now and then. Back then, if I recall correctly, every day you walked into class wearing clothes. Not like you are now!

Mistress Larissa fails to notice my interest in you. She takes little notice, and instead introduces me to the rest of her boys. I pull my eyes away and recall the four other male studs standing beside you.

The rest of the selection looks very nice too. Yes, very nice! Real pieces of beef, prime steaks! But no, not steaks. For some reason I think of sausage. Yes, I think of sausage when I look at you. Five hunks of beef sausage. You could form the front line of a football team, the five of you. Mistress must provide excellent work out facilities. I suspect you each spend several hours every day lifting weights or running the treadmill. Or perhaps she works you in other ways too! I wonder?

Three brunettes and two blonds. I like that! A well rounded selection. I've always said a woman needs a bit of variety in her life. Handsome faces too, all of you! Chiseled chests. Strong arms and legs. You look like you could almost break out of those chains and shackles, break out of the thick bands of steal that securely hold each of your wrists and ankles to the heavy wood beams. Of course you cannot break free, of that I have no doubt, and of that I so much enjoy. It makes the scene so much more erotic, the thoughts going through my head more interesting. It also makes me feel so much more powerful, more in control, like I could take advantage and do to you whatever I wanted.

Most important, your four friends wear identical clothing to your own. That is, nothing. I never could understand a man's obsession with the need to wear clothing in front of a female. I mean, what's the point? Why would strong, muscular men like you ever want to cover your glorious male bodies? I find men so much more interesting without.

My eyes are free to roam up and then back down at each of your glorious bodies, and I take my time doing so. First one, then the next, I proceed down the line to roam. Mostly, I like to roam down. Down, that is, to your beautiful cocks. I like your friends. Mistress Larissa has quite an impressive collection. All five of you are so big! Not just your biceps and thighs, but mostly down there! It must have taken her a long time to find such talent.

When I eventually get back to you, I see perhaps you do remember me. Yes! That's very nice. I recall you did give a little jump when I took my first step down those stairs. Maybe you do remember I was once your teacher. Maybe you remember how you once sat in my class. Or maybe you remember me trying to teach at the front of the room. Stimulating, isn't it, the fact we once knew each other outside this dungeon. Is it the embarrassment? Might it be the humiliation? Or is it what I wear? You like my outfit, don't you? The long opening down the middle. The hint of breast on either side. You've always thought I looked cute. Younger than the rest of your teachers, I know, and prettier too. Remember, I knew your other teachers. I talked with them every day in the Teacher's Lounge. You must have looked forward to my class every day.

What's that? You agree! You appear to agree. You seem to be, shall be say, rising to greet me. Is that it? You look like you want to rise for me, to show yourself off for me. I like that! I can see what is happening. It looks a bit longer than when I left to look at your friends. I can see it hangs further down now. It also sticks further out.

I'm glad you like my little outfit. I wore it special for the party upstairs. Normally I don't wear such things, such revealing outfits. I seldom walk around with much breast exposed. They are not very large, I mean my breasts, but then you can see that for yourself. Can you also see I wear no bra too? You probably noticed. No way could I possibly wear a bra under a blouse cut so low down the middle. I bet you would really like to open my blouse right now and take a look inside.

Oh! I see you do! Yes, that's very nice. Is it my overactive imagination, or are you getting bigger down there? I think you like my little outfit. You think it's sexy. It turns you on. It must. You can't lie. I can see it for myself. You can no longer hide it from me, my big, strong scholar. It is as though you wear a lie detector that I can read.

How do you feel right now? Does it make you feel violated? Does it feel embarrassing? Tell me boy! How does it feel growing full size right in front of me? It would be one thing to turn hard inside your jeans. I might not have noticed it then. But here, in the bare, I get to see every inch.

And I see you have quite a few inches to show me. Oh yes! That's very nice. I see you are quite nicely endowed down there. I noticed it almost immediately, you know, while I was still at the top of the steps. Perhaps that is why I failed to recognize you. My eyes were too much concentrated on you down there to notice the rest of you.

It seems knowledge of my watching is accelerating your growth. You must be reading my mind, boy. Are you hearing my thoughts? Maybe it's the smile I give. Perhaps you hear my thoughts through my smile. Yes, you can tell how much I like it.

Straight out! Yes! It points straight out of you now. I like to see a boy when he points straight out. You have an impressive cock! Yes, very impressive! Do you know you are impressive? Already longer than most boys. Wider too! You have an impressive girth. I suppose anything so long would need a wide girth. Sort-of like a tree, I suppose. A tall tree needs a wide base. You have a wide trunk. And still you are not quite full yet.

There you go! Come on, don't be shy. It's just me! Never mind little old me. Try not to think of me. Don't think of me watching. Try not to think about your sweet little ex-teacher watching you rise.

Yes, keep going! Keep rising! Go on and stiffen for me. You're a naughty boy. You're the naughtiest boy in class, getting a big old boner in front of your teacher. It's not often I get to see my former male students with erections. In fact, I never have. This is so virgin to me.

Wow! You certainly are a big boy. I always expected you to be big. Most football players are, you know. Big boys naturally have the biggest cocks, and you have the biggest cock of them all. I used to imagine what you looked like from my desk. Sometimes while you were taking a test, I was busy fantasizing what you would look like in the nude. I used to sit behind my desk and imagine you naked in my mind. I fantasized about other boys too, but you were my favorite.

I'm not disappointed. Is all that really you? You are everything I imagined. You are even more than I imagined. There's so much more of you than I ever expected. It makes me wish I had gotten to know you a lot better back then. It would have been fun tutoring you, I think. I would have liked giving you private lessons. We could have met after class; you and me, just the two of us. I would sentence you to detention every day. Yes, every day! I'm sure a young boy like yourself could have handled private instructions every day. I think you still can. Still in your early 20s. You're very young. I like them young. Only young men have the stamina I demand, and I will demand a great deal from you. Think of getting extra credit after class. You would have gotten an A in my class back then. I'm sure you still can.

Wow! That's very nice. So stiff! Most boys of your size can't stand up so tall. You rise up to your stomach. You rise half-way up to your chest. Most certainly A material. Yes, I could have found lots of extra credit work for you to do. Perhaps I still can.

I like looking at you in side-profile too. This must be why your mistress placed you at the end of the line. She did it so potential customers could step around and appreciate your true size.

What's that? What did you try to say through your gag? Did you say something about wanting to show me more, something about wanting to show me more back there?

Oh yes! Now I see you. I was too engrossed with your giant cock in front to notice your behind. I like the way your mistress has you shackled. That's very considerate of her. Your wrists are bound by a wooden beam going across the ceiling. Your ankles are secured by lag bolts going into the stone floor, and in the middle there sits nothing. Nothing prevents me from looking back here too. Your mistress has placed you on full display.

I like what I see. Very nice from the rear too. You have a nice ass, did you know that? Firm! Tight! It seems to almost be begging for me to spank it. And spank it I shall, if I purchase you. I am a stern mistress who often spanks her slaves. It is necessary to give a slave a good spanking when they misbehave. How else is a good teacher supposed to impose discipline in her classroom?

Well, yes! There is that too. You know what I am talking about. There's one other way a teacher could impose discipline too. Well, actually, there are two of them. You know what I mean. I'm talking about your balls. It's easy to discipline a misbehaving student with his balls too, by squeezing and squashing them, but you don't need to worry. Mostly I will use your ass. I reserve ball busting for only the most serious offences. I need to be careful with your balls. Those I will need for much more interesting uses.

But enough of squeezing your balls and spanking your ass! Maybe later tonight, after I purchase you, after I get you home and we can have some privacy. Right now I have something more interesting to spank in front.

Holy shit! Oh my! I see you've grown even more. I had thought you were done. I assumed you already stood at full mast. I mean most women would have assume so, given your size. But not you! Oh fuck! I see you still had another inch or two to go.

I must say, that is one enormous cock! Very impressive! I really like it! I mean the way you stand up so firm; the way you stand so hard. Damn! It's so hard it actually arches back. Now that's hard! I mean it arches back at an angle, like a curved banana. An unusually large and oversized banana, yes, but it still looks like a banana. Or should I call it a sausage? It looks like a sausage too; one of those oversized German sausages. Kielbasa, I think you call them. Yes, I think that's what I should call yours. Your cock resembles an oversized German Kielbasa. Much too big to possibly fit in a bun. I wonder if it might be too big to fit in me.

What's that? Is that what you would like? Are you thinking about putting that big cock of yours inside me? Maybe penetrate me? Might you even be thinking of fucking me?

Naughty boy! You're such a naughty, nasty boy. You shouldn't think such filthy thoughts. I know you want to, yes, I can see you want to; but what if I don't want you. And if I don't want to let you, well then...

Well, you know what I mean. The shackles around your wrists and ankles provide my answer. I won't let you penetrate me. No! And if I don't want you to, then you can't. No! You can't. Because this is my classroom, and I am in charge.

Instead, this is my chance to do what I want for a change. You make it very tempting for me, standing there, with that giant cock of yours standing up at attention. It looks so inviting. It appears so tempting. It looks like it is trying to tell me something. That's right. I think it tells me something. It tells me that it wants me to play with you. We're going to have a fun time, playing, just me and you. Well, me and your cock, at least. As for the rest of you, well, what does it matter?

What's that? You don't have any friends down here in your dungeon? You don't have any friends to play with, to play with you? Well, I'll be your friend. I'll play with you! Will you let me play? Please, I want to play. I want to play with you down there.

I wonder what would happen if I decided to play. I mean, what would happen if I decided to reach out and touch you right now? I wonder what you would do to stop me if my hand reached out just like this and touched you.

Oh! Were my fingers cold? Did I surprise you? You jumped! You tried to pull back. It's all right. That was just a few of my fingers. It's just little ol me, your teacher, wanting to play with you a little. I'm not going to hurt you. I could never hurt a big guy like you -- not yet anyway.

Oh yes! That's better! That's very nice! You really are hard. Wow! Your cock feels as stiff as it looks. Even stiffer! Now that's what I call a real hard-on.

I hope you don't mind me playing with your hard-on, do you? You have a very nice hard-on. And you have so much hard-on for me to play with. Wow! What is it? I mean, what's its length? I'd say 10 inches. Just look at the way my hand covers only half your length. I can cover the bottom half of your shaft, I can cover the top half, or I can cover the half in the middle. Little ol me needs a bigger hand to cover it. At least 10 inches, I would say. Maybe later I will take your measurements.

And just take a look at how thick you are too. You have a lot of girth, did you know that? That's a lot of meat you have down there. Just look at the way my fingers can't reach all the way around. They go only halfway. Even when I squeeze as tight as I can, they don't go around. You're too hard for me to squeeze you any smaller. My fingers reach only halfway around your thick girth.

Oh! Oh my! What's that? What did I just feel? What did I just see down there? Tell me boy. I believe your cock is trying to tell me something. Do you see it? Do you feel it on the end?

Yes! You're cock is definitely trying to tell me something. I think it wants me to play up on top too. Do you? Do you want me to play with your mushroom! I like mushrooms. I like to play with the tip of your sausage, the head. I see you want me to play with the mushroom head of your cock. I can see for myself. You naughty boy! You really are horny! You're a filthy, nasty boy!

And you are about to get a lot filthier. Oh yes! You are! Your cock is about to turn all filthy and nasty. It's about to turn wet. Here, let me help. Yes, let me spread it around.