White Lightning Ch. 01byIceBluePhoenix©
I can remember the first time I saw Brandon Jenkins. Then, he was an awkward fourteen-year-old freshman in high school, the kind of alienated, independent thinker that always went straight to my heart as a teacher. That was ten years ago. Now I was staring into the surprised eyes of a twenty-four year old man.
A lot of things had changed for me, including my relationship status. Then, I had been a single young woman of twenty-two. Now, I had been married for three years. Jacob, my husband, just got a promotion at work, a promotion with one teeny tiny catch, at least from his perspective: I would have to be his boss's sex slave. To be fair, Jacob didn't know about this catch, but Greg, his boss, made it crystal clear to me. If I failed to submit to his unwelcome advances, he would destroy Greg. Furthermore, he now had ample photographic evidence that I had been "cheating" on Jacob (if forced sex with Greg counts), and he could also ruin our marriage.
Despite the many disgusting, humiliating things Greg had forced me to submit to, and even enjoy, in private, he had claimed that I was about to encounter my first real assignment. Not two minutes ago, I had been standing outside the closed door of this office, and Greg had plunged his hand into my panties to rub my clit. He had been rough, and to my embarrassment I had responded to the mingled sensation of pleasure and pain he brought me.
"Stop," I had said, struggling to move away from him.
He had tightened his grip on my arm and then shoved a finger into my cunt in response.
"You're panting like a bitch in heat," he had said. "Don't fucking tell me to stop. I could make you cum right here, and we both know you'd scream loud enough to draw a lot of attention. Do you want me to do that, whore?"
"No," I had said, feeling panicked. "I'm sorry."
He continued to absently move his finger inside me as he replied. "I don't think you are, bitch. That's why I have something special for you. It's someone who can teach you how to treat me with the proper attitude. Not that I mind it when you fight a little. But you need to know your place. Brandon will show it to you. His job depends on it."
Then Greg had removed his finger from my pussy. He had laughed. "If you wanted me to stop, why is my finger so damn wet?"
If I had been embarrassed then, it was nothing to what I felt now as Brandon and I stared at each other in mutual shock. The last time I saw him, he had been wiry and tall. He still had the same height and soft brown eyes, but that was all that was the same. His brown hair had been a hopeless mess; now it looked artfully tousled and I found myself longing to run my fingers through it. Also, had his lips always been that full? With something like panic, I realized that I was beginning to assess him as a sexual partner.
"Miss Parker?" he asked.
I shook myself. "Umm... actually it's Mrs. Franklin now. I'm married."
His eyes slid over my body. "Lucky guy."
Greg cleared his throat. "This is a touching reunion. I wish I would have realized sooner that you two know each other. She was your teacher, huh? Bet you spent a lot of nights imagining what it would be like to slide your dick between those sweet lips."
Brandon's eyes darkened with a flash of lust, which he attempted to suppress.
Greg rolled his eyes. "Have it your way. But I'm taping your performance, kiddo, and if you don't exercise the full extent of your genius, I'll send you right back where I found you."
Brandon went pale, threw me an anguished look, then nodded resignedly at Greg. Greg left the room.
I watched Brandon pull himself together. He looked at me with cool businesslike eyes. "Miss Parker, I'm going to have to completely degrade you. To be honest, I think you'll enjoy it, but it's going to be awkward for both of us at first."
I laughed. "You can't be serious. Brandon, I am not going to have sex with you."
He raised an eyebrow and kept his voice calmly pleasant. "Of course you will. As I said, I think you'll enjoy it. What I'm most concerned about is the humiliation inherent to domination. I'm going to have to use you like a slave, and you will have to respond like one."
I was mesmerized by the way his hands tapped on the table in front of him. Flashes of his hands on my body, spreading my thighs, and squeezing my ass forced their way through my brain. This was wrong. "God, Brandon, you can't be serious. You were my student."
He walked towards me. The distance between us felt nonexistent as our breath mingled. He stroked my cheek with the back of one of his hands, then he tangled his fingers in my hair. For a moment, the expression in his eyes convinced me that he was going to kiss me. Then he jerked my head back by my hair.
"Did you want to fuck me then as badly as you want to fuck me now, Miss Parker?"
"What? Brandon, no, I don't... I didn't..."
He stopped me by pressing the index finger of his other hand against my lips. His touch was so firm I felt bruised.
"Your nipples are hard, Miss Parker, and it is far from cold in this room. I think that's because you are imagining how it's going to feel when I finally give you the fuck you've wanted your whole damn life. But that won't be today, Miss Parker. You're going to earn it. And then you're going to beg for it. But first, you'll beg for lots of things you never wanted."
My heart was racing. The heat from his body penetrated the thin clothes I was wearing, and I knew he was right when he said my nipples were hard. He was scaring the shit out of me, but something in me still responded to him, something that wanted him. I was disgusted with myself. This was a former student, someone I had once loved with the uncomplicated love of an older sister, and now I was partially aroused by the thought of him assaulting me.
His eyes narrowed as he considered the expression on my face. "I think we'll start with something simple. The goal of today's session is for you to beg to touch my cock." He abruptly released me and went to sit behind his desk. "Now take off your clothes. Except your bra and panties."
I swallowed. "Brandon, I can't do this."
"You would rather Greg tell your husband what a nasty little whore you've been? You want him to see those videos of you screaming Greg's name, asking him to pound your cheating little cunt harder and faster? You want your husband to know that your tits were wrapped around Greg's dick in the employee restroom last week, or that you let Greg drill your asshole?"
"No," I sighed. I was trapped. There was nothing else to do but to unbutton my shirt and follow Brandon's commands.
He watched me disinterestedly as I undressed, and the cool appraisal of my exposed body made me shiver. "Tell me what you want, Miss Parker."
My voice was nervous. "Mrs. Franklin, remember? I'm Mrs. Franklin."
"Come here," he said. "Come bend over my desk."
I did, propping my elbows on the cool wood. He sat directly across from me, and he took a moment to assess my cleavage as my tits nearly spilled out of the half-cup bra I had been wearing. Then he stood up and came to stand behind me. I turned to look at him. He was holding a paddle.
"What are you doing?" I asked. My voice exposed the fear I felt.
His voice was firm. "Face forward, Miss Parker. I want a moment to study your ass before it changes colors."
A steady pulsing of dread went through me as I turned to face the front as he had ordered. I couldn't believe he was about to paddle me. I hadn't been paddled since I was a little girl. I had always run in fear from my father whenever I had been naughty.
"I always enjoyed looking at your ass while you wrote on the board, Miss Parker. I used to imagine what it would be like to flip up one of your skirts and grab a handful of it."
THWACK. The unexpected strike was every bit as painful as it sounded, and I screamed.
"First of all, I'll call you whatever the hell I want to call you, Miss Parker."
THWACK. I screamed again. "Oh God," I finally managed. "Okay, Brandon, call me Miss Parker, I don't care, just stop spanking me."
"You will call me Master."
THWACK. "MASTER!" I screamed.
"I think you can scream louder than that. I've heard you cumming while you spread your legs for Greg in the parking lot. I want to hear you scream like you do for him."
THWACK. I screamed "Master" louder, trying to appease him, but feeling too embarrassed to let go.
"You look like a cheap slut with your tits falling out of your bra onto my desk and your ass in the air like you're begging me to rip those panties away and fuck you, but I don't buy it. I'm going to spank you until it sounds like you're cumming. Let me hear what you're going to sound like when I finally do give you what you want."
It was hard to fake an orgasm with so much pain screaming through my body, but at the same time it was satisfying. The pain burned through me in a way that made all of my skin hungry for pleasure, and I wanted sex more than I had ever wanted it in my life. He spanked me over and over, and I finally let go of my inhibitions as I imagined Brandon pounding his cock into me.
"Oh GOD, Master, yes, PLEASE that's so good," I gasped. "Do it harder, I want more!"
"That's my girl," he said. He landed the paddle on my ass again. "Are you wet, Miss Parker? Are you all wet for me now?"
"Yes," I screamed. "Yes, so wet. Oh MASTER!"
He stopped paddling me. "Sit down on my desk."
I sat down, feeling winded. I hadn't actually had an orgasm, but I felt so aroused it was excruciating. Brandon sat in his chair and eased my legs apart. He sat back and examined me for a moment.
"Miss Parker, you are supposed to beg me for something today. If you do it, I will give you a reward."
I blushed. "I'm embarrassed, Master."
He smiled. "I know. It is extremely pleasurable, isn't it?"
I blushed and decided to get it over with. "I want to touch your cock, Master."
"Why does it embarrass you to ask me for this?"
I didn't answer. The real reason was that I actually WANTED to touch his cock; it wasn't just a game anymore. I didn't know if he would accept that. "Please, Master," I breathed. "Let me touch your cock. I want to take it out of your pants and rub my hands up and down your shaft."
"Is that why your panties are all wet, Miss Parker?"
"Yes, Master. I'm thinking about how good your cock would be, and it made me so wet."
"Finger fuck yourself for me. Use four fingers."
I gasped. "Master, I don't know if I can fit four fingers into my pussy."
He grasped the fabric of my panties and moved it aside, exposing the desperation of my need to him. "Do it, Miss Parker. Show me what you want me to do that pussy. Tell me about it while you do it."
"I can't," I gasped.
He unzipped his jeans and liberated his cock from his boxers. I know my eyes widened. It was eight wide, thick inches of what looked like heaven. I wanted to wrap my fingers, mouth, tits, pussy—anything --around it.
"Please, Master," I moaned. "I need to touch your cock."
"Lay down, slut," he said. "Lay down and keep your legs spread for me."
A thrill of hope seized me. He was going to fuck me.
"Yes, Master, please," I whimpered. "I need you so much!"
The weight of his cock settled against my clitoris. Then he began moving in slow circles so that his cock touched and stroked but never penetrated my pussy. It was agony. An agony of pleasure.
Then the pressure was gone. "Master, please don't stop, touch me again," I moaned.
A sudden sharp sting assaulted my clit. I realized with astonished arousal that he had just slapped my pussy with his cock. The sound of his flesh slapping against mine rang through the room as he did it again. It felt amazing.
"Get on your knees," he growled. I moved to the floor in a single motion. "This is because you didn't finger yourself like a good whore," he said, and then he smacked his cock across my face. My surprised shriek became a moan, and when he did it again I begged for more.
"You like it when I slap your face with my cock?"
I could only whimper.
"Get on the damn desk and finger yourself. Don't cum until you're covered in my jizz."
I couldn't believe it, but I managed to press four fingers into my pussy. I arched my back with the pleasure of it.
"Tell me what you're imagining, Miss Parker. The sooner you get me off, the sooner you can relieve yourself."
"Yes Master. I'm watching you stroke yourself, imagining that your hand is my pussy. Except I'd be tighter than that, Master, so tight. And my fingers aren't as long or as hard as your cock is. I'm imagining what it would be like to be in your bed, underneath you, while you do whatever you wanted to with me. I'd come so hard for you, Master, and it would feel better than anything I've ever felt in my life. I'm remembering one time when Greg took me to the mall and fucked me while the mall security guard watched. I was so embarrassed but it felt so good that he made me do that. I can remember how his cock pounded into me, and then how he made me suck the security guard's dick. I swallowed all of his spunk. He had the biggest cock I'd ever seen. But yours is bigger, and some day I want to put it in my mouth and lick your shaft until you pour your load down my throat. Oh God, Master, I want you inside me. I can't push my fingers deep enough."
His eyes were heavy as he looked at me. "Rub that clit for me, Miss Parker. Rub it while you finger yourself. And tell me what you learned today."
I blushed. That was how I'd always ended classes. "Master, I learned that I love it when you spank me."
"You have an amazing cock, Master."
"I like it when you slap me with it."
"I'm going to cum all over you, bitch. You're such a dirty little whore."
He stood up and tensed his body. Ropes of semen flew into the air and landed in hot lines across my skin. I sawed my fingers into my cunt even harder, barely able to breathe.
"You look like a nymphomaniac," he commented when he finished. "Are you a little cum slut?"
"Yes," I gasped. "Yes Master, I'm a slut for your cum."
"You can finish," he said. "Be back here tomorrow, same time."
He left the room. My orgasm came like white lightning with the sound of the closing door.