by Ludo ©
The story so far: Armed with a video of my beautiful but evil English teacher, Becky "Ballbreaker" Beakman having wild, sadomasochistic sex with her transsexual lover, I, David Finch (Now known as "Master David"), have made the hapless Miss Beakman and her partner Martha my sex slaves.
Sitting in the library, ostensibly working on my term paper, my mind wandered
back over the events of the past few days. At the end of my first evening
of sordid sexual excess with my reluctant submissives, I had picked out
a very special outfit for the voluptuous Miss Beakman to wear to school
the next day. When I walked into English class, I saw that she had complied
with my request, almost. She was wearing the gauzy silk skirt, without
a slip, which afforded us a very clear view of her shapely legs. But she
had topped it with a long blazer that hid her most valuable assets. I
stood in the back of the room and stared disapprovingly at her. She could
not ignore me for long, and soon returned my gaze with a pleading look.
It was quickly obvious that I was unmoved, and she hesitantly removed
the jacket and hung it over the back of her chair.
The effect was more than I had hoped for. The thin material of her skirt clung deliciously to her perfectly rounded ass. The back of her thong panties disappeared between her cheeks, giving the impression that she was naked under her diaphanous attire. Only when she turned to face me could I see the faint hint of a white, lacy triangle struggling to contain her pouting pubes. Her blouse was every bit as sheer as the skirt. The half bra displayed her perfect breasts proudly, the dark pink nipples plainly visible through the thin white material.
As my fellow students filed in, their usual loud banter turned quickly to subdued whispers, if not stunned silence. Many of them crashed into desks as they attempted to navigate through the aisles without taking their eyes off of the vision before them. Once we were all seated, with much squirming and readjusting of body parts, Becky announced that for today's class, we would be working on a written exercise. She then handed stacks of papers to the person at the front of each row, and retreated to the safety of her desk. Her plan was to remain safely hidden until the end of the period. Well, we couldn't have that! I waited for about 5 minutes, then raised my hand. "Yes, Mister Finch", she said icily.
"Miss Beakman", I replied sweetly, "I'm having trouble understanding this first part here. Could you come take a look at it?" She started to protest, but quickly realized that I would not be dissuaded. She pushed back brusquely from her desk and headed to the back of the room where I was sitting. Her firm, angry stride made her tits bounce enticingly. Some students glanced furtively as she passed, while others stared outright. She reached my desk and leaned over my paper. As I enjoyed the fragrance of her perfume, I couldn't help but notice that her nipples had become very erect, straining against the flimsy fabric of her blouse. Fear, or lust? I couldn't tell.
"Nice try." I whispered.
Through clenched teeth she said "If you read the directions, Mister Finch, they're perfectly clear."
"Thank you, Miss Beakman." I replied respectfully, "You've been most helpful." She stomped back to her desk, and her ass was every bit as entertaining on the way down as her tits had been on the way up. No sooner had she reached her desk than another hand went up. Then another. Suddenly, everyone seemed to be having difficulty with this assignment. Imagine that! One bright boy even managed come up with a problem that could only be explained by having her diagram it on the board. Her shaky penmanship went unnoticed as eighteen pairs of eyes were riveted to that magnificent ass.
That was but one of the many escapades I had enjoyed at Becky Beakman's expense over the past week. My favorite so far was two nights ago. I instructed Becky to purchase a large, inflatable kiddie pool, and several bottles of vegetable oil on her way home. That evening, Becky and her transsexual partner Martha cleared a space in the living room for the eight foot round, two foot deep pool, and then inflated it, by mouth and in the nude of course. While they huffed and puffed, I rummaged through their bureau, selecting two lacy camisole tops and two pairs of sheer panties. I also pulled out the short, black whip that I had seen Martha use that first, fateful night. I then changed into black shorts and a referee shirt I had swiped from the school gym. A whistle hung around my neck completed the costume. By the time I emerged from the bedroom, the girls had finished blowing up the pool and were sitting on the floor, gasping for breath. When they saw me in my outfit, they looked at one another with an expression of "He's GOT to be kidding!"
I wasn't. I tossed a pair of panties and a top to each of them. No instructions were needed. They grudgingly put the flimsy garments on. I then directed them to the center of the pool, and handed each of them a bottle of oil. "I'm sure ladies of your caliber rarely attend sordid events like oil wrestling matches," I began, "so allow me to explain a few rules. You will begin by dousing each other with the oil. And don't be stingy, we have plenty. At the sound of the whistle, you'll come out fighting. The winner will be the first one to pin their opponent three times. That's both shoulders on the floor for a count of three." Becky and Martha looked at each other with conspiratorial grins. "Of course, what would a contest be without a prize?" I pulled the whip out of my back pocket, and watched their grins vanish. "The winner gets to use this on the loser. And if I don't get a good fight, if I don't see some hellacious clothes-ripping, hair-pulling, tit-squashing wrestling action, then you both lose, and I give you both a whipping. Any questions?"
If they had any questions, they were too afraid to ask them. "Well, then," I announced, "Let the games begin!" Becky and Martha began pouring the oil down each other's fronts. I could see that there wouldn't be nearly enough, so I popped the tops off of two more bottles and joined them in the ring. Soon they were both glistening with the slick oil. As their tops became soaked, they turned nearly transparent, clinging to every curve. When all four bottles of oil were empty, I removed them from the "ring" (Safety First!) and blew my whistle to start round one.
My reluctant gladiators sort of danced with each other for a while, unsure of how to begin. They obviously needed some motivation. I picked up the whip and brought it down hard on an end table. A load CRACK reverberated through the living room, making both women jump. With a look of desperation, Martha lunged at Becky. Becky's feet slipped out from under her, and they both crashed to the floor. Though smaller, Martha had the upper body strength of a man, and quickly gained the upper hand. As they wrestled in the puddle of oil, Marty's cock clipped out through the leg opening of her panties. Grappling with her slick, soaked lover was getting Marty excited, as evidenced by her rapidly growing prick. She managed to get both of Becky's arms on the mat, but not before snapping the shoulder strap of her inadequate costume. I counted to three, slapping the mat with each count for emphasis, then blew my whistle, awarding the pin to Martha. As I rose, I slapped her on the ass and exclaimed "Atta boy! Girl. Whatever. Round two!"
They staggered to their feet and waited for the whistle. Becky actually seemed pissed at having been pinned. There was a definite "You're Next!" look in her eye. I blew the whistle for the next round. Marty again lunged at Becky. But this time Becky sidestepped, grabbing the front of Marty's shirt and trying to spin her around. There was a ripping sound, and Marty sprawled topless into the edge of the pool, leaving Becky holding an oily rag. While Becky stared at the destroyed camisole, Marty sprang forward and grabbed her opponent around the waist. She straightened up, flipping Becky over her shoulder. Becky scrambled forward, her legs flailing, trying to break free. Marty held tight, but Becky was so slippery that all she succeeded in doing was peeling Becky's panties down to her knees before she was finally able to kick free. Becky retreated to the edge of the ring. She tried pulling her panties back on, but immediately discovered that the waistband had snapped on one side. She let out a frustrated scream, and ripped the other side open, tossing the dripping wisp of fabric out of the ring.
As I watched the spectacle before me, my own cock began to throb uncomfortably in my shorts. I stripped them off, and let my mighty member swing free. I scooped up a handful of oil from the ring, and spread it over my dick, casually stroking as I watched the battle. Marty was just turning toward Becky when she sprang forward, knocking her backward. Becky was straddling Marty's hips as she tried for the pin. Marty's cock and balls were now hanging completely out of the ruined panties, and her turgid prick was straining, bumping up against Becky's oil slicked pussy. I couldn't resist. I jumped into the ring, dropped to my knees, grabbed Marty's cock, and began rubbing it against Becky's slit. They both froze. I pushed the bulbous head of Marty's cock into Becky's opening, which was wet with much more than vegetable oil, and began feeding that hard shaft into her. They needed little encouragement. Marty started pumping slowly, as Becky lowered herself down, meeting every thrust.
As they fucked, I was mesmerized by Becky's delightfully puckered asshole dancing up and down before me. I brought my oil-drenched hand up to her ass, and began rubbing my thumb around her nether hole. I pushed, and my thumb slid easily into her slippery anus. I started fucking her ass with my thumb in time to Marty's rhythm. She let out a soft moan of pleasure. I had to do it! I withdrew my thumb, positioned myself behind the copulating couple, and pressed the head of my slippery dick to her ass. Becky tried to pull away, but I grabbed her hips and thrust forward, pushing my cock head past her rubbery opening, and sinking the first few inches of my prick in her ass. She let out a gasp, more of dismay than discomfort.
But Martha's rhythm had never faltered, and soon Becky was caught up in the sensation of her double penetration. I started stroking in and out of her hole, sinking a little deeper with each thrust, until I felt my balls sliding against Martha's on each down stroke. I had fucked some tight pussies in my time, but nothing compared to the searing embrace my happiest of body parts was enjoying right now. Soon, the mingled moans of my two love slaves signaled their impending orgasms. I, too, felt my balls tightening in expectation. Martha let out an animal groan, thrusting deep into her lover's cunt, her thighs quivering with spasms of release. Becky joined the duet with a chorus of "Yes! Yes!" as her own orgasm crested. That was too much for me, and I came, flooding Becky's hot rear with my spunk. We collapsed, sliding into a tangle of oily humanity. I decided that, although there had been no winner in the wrestling match, my servants had performed well. I would spare the lash.
The memory of that night brought a grin to my face as I packed up my books and walked out of the library to my car. The early June sun was beaming joy upon my world. Summer was here, graduation was at hand, and I was living a life of sexual excess that was the stuff of dreams. "David," I said to myself as I unlocked the car door, "Life just doesn't get any better than this!" ...or does it?
"Excuse me." A small voice piped up behind me. I turned and looked down into a pair of crystal blue eyes, surrounded by sun-dappled corn silk hair. "I don't know if you remember me." She said. Remember! Who could forget Angela Kelly? Angie was on the cheerleading squad that our sister school provided for our home games, seeing as how none of the students at my all-boys school looked very fetching in those short skirts. Angie was a tiny thing, about five foot nothing. She had slender, almost boyish hips, but her tiny waist gave the impression of a feminine swell. Her 34-C breasts would have done a taller woman proud. On Angie, they seemed enormous, almost comical. But the overall image was an irresistible combination of innocence and raw sex appeal.
"Sure I do, Angie", I replied, "What's up?"
"Wellll..." she began coyly, "I heard about the video in Beakman's class. Word is that you were behind it. Is it true?" I smiled evasively.
"Could be" I teased.
"I knew it!" Becky squeaked. "I also heard that it wasn't just some porn tape in there; that you took the video." Wow! I was kind of surprised how far the speculation had spread. I had to be careful, but I didn't want to stop this tantalizing conversation.
"Well, I really can't say. There are reputations at stake."
Angie pouted, "But you can tell me. I'd do anything to know who was on that film." I smiled lasciviously at her.
"Anything?" I asked, only half jokingly. She took a step toward me. Her breasts were practically pressed against my stomach, her perfume wafted deliciously around me. She looked me straight in the eye, and in an unmistakably direct voice said "Anything."
My pulse raced and my pants grew tighter as the implications of her offer sunk in. Struggling to maintain my composure, I stammered, "Um... well... uh, Sure! Why don't we get together tonight and talk about.... Anything."
"Why wait till tonight?" she replied seductively, "Why not right now?"
"Now!" I squeaked, "Um, sure. Only problem is, where? My Mom's home, and she's funny about me bringing girls to my room." (Good thing, too. I haven't cleaned my room since I was twelve. One look at that pig sty, and the deal would be off!)
"Yeah, mine too." Angie said thoughtfully. Then with a mischievous grin "We could try the observatory." The "Observatory" was an old naval observation station built into the hillside just outside of town. It was constructed during the cold war, and had been abandoned for 15 years or more. Some local kids had fixed up one of the rooms in it as a make-out spot, complete with a bed and some other pieces of salvaged furniture. I was surprised Angie knew about it. She had a reputation as kind of a goody two-shoes. Guess you can't believe everything you hear.
Five minutes later, we were cruising up the mountainside. "So," Angie asked "Who is the mystery lady in the video?"
"Oh no." I replied teasingly, "First I need to know what 'anything' means."
Angie smiled wickedly. "Don't worry. You'll find out." I floored the accelerator, and in no time we were at the concrete barricade that the Navy had erected in a futile attempt to keep people out of the abandoned station, which lay less than a quarter mile up a broken concrete road. Angie and I walked up in awkward silence. As we approached the observatory, Angie stopped and took hold of my arm.
"Before we go in," she began apprehensively, "There's something you should know about me."
"Oh shit!" I thought, "Here it comes; a litany of things that 'good girls' don't do."
"I know I have a reputation as a 'goody-goody'," she continued nervously, "But the fact is, I like the rough stuff!" My jaw dropped to the ground! As I wiped gravel from my chin, she continued, "Don't get me wrong; regular sex is ok. But the only way I can really get off is if I'm with a man who knows what he wants, and can make me give it to him. Think you can handle that, Stud?"
I quickly recovered from the shock of this revelation, and gave Angie my most lascivious leer. Then I bent down, hooked my arm around her butt, and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Letting loose a rebel yell, I sprinted the last few yards to the observatory. As I walked down the maze of corridors, Angie squirmed and kicked in mock dismay. I flipped up the back of her schoolgirl skirt, and gave her panty-clad ass a hard smack. "Shut up, Bitch!" I commanded, really getting into my role. My recent experience dominating Becky and Martha was serving me well.
When we reached the make-out room, I flung Angie down onto the bed, eliciting a flutter of squeaks from the springs of the ancient mattress. Beside the bed, there was small sofa and two mismatched end tables. On one stood an oil lamp, to provide light on those lucky nights. We wouldn't need it. The bedspread someone had hung to act as a curtain on the only window had lost a hook, and now dangled like a dishrag to one side, allowing plenty of afternoon sun to flood the room. Angie lay sprawled on the bed, the sunlight glistened in her blond hair. Her skirt was hiked up almost to her waist, allowing a generous glimpse of white panties.
The top two buttons of her uniform blouse had come undone, exposing her disproportionately large breasts, nestled in a lacy bra. She looked at me with a combination of lust and fear that stoked the fire in my loins. I ripped off my belt and yanked my pants halfway down my thighs. My engorged cock jutted out at a menacing angle, casting a shadow on the bed like a sundial. I reached down, gathered up a handful of blonde curls, and roughly pulled Angie's face to my crotch. "Suck it, slut!" I ordered.
Angie opened her cupie-doll lips and engulfed the head of my cock in her warm, wet mouth. Sliding her tongue back and forth on the underside of my prick, she slowly took in its whole length, until her nose was nestled in my pubic hair. The ease with which my cock slid down her throat told me that this chick was no stranger to cock-sucking. Suddenly, she gagged and coughed, expelling most of my dick. Maybe she wasn't such an expert after all. Rising to my macho role, I grabbed two handfuls of hair and began pumping in and out of her mouth. "What's the matter, Babe?" I sneered as I fucked her face, "Too much meat for ya?" Angie grabbed my naked hips for balance as she licked and sucked my pounding pud. I reached down between her arms, and ripped her shirt the rest of the way open, sending a button skittering to the floor. Her bra clasped in the front (one of man's greatest inventions!), and with a quick flick, her creamy breasts spilled from their confines. I grabbed one tit in each hand and mauled them, pinching the pale, pink nipples roughly between my thumb and forefinger. Angie squealed and moaned. Obviously, she was loving it.
I pulled my wet, raging cock out of Angie's mouth, and placed it between her tits. Pressing the warm, soft flesh around my prick, I began stroking up and down, fucking her tits. She bent her head down, so that with each upward thrust, the head of my cock would slide into her waiting mouth. After a few minutes of this, I could feel the cum boiling in my balls. Not wanting to pop just jet, I pulled back. Climbing up near the head of the bed, I flipped Angie around so that she was facing the foot, her delicious rear thrust high in the air. I pulled her skirt up past her hips, and feasted my eyes on the delectable derriere before me. Grabbing the side band of her thin white cotton panties in both hands, I snapped it easily. Peeling back the ruined garment, I was greeted with a vision of heaven itself. Smooth white cheeks framed the cutest asshole I had ever seen, perched invitingly above an almost painfully sweet little pussy. Scant wisps of baby-soft pale yellow hair peeked cautiously from between her legs. I reached back, and brought my hand down on her right ass cheek with a resounding slap, then followed with the left. "You want my cock in that tight little pussy, don't you slut?!" I bellowed. Her reply was a muffled moan. I smacked each cheek again, harder this time. "I said, you want my cock, right?" I commanded menacingly.
"Yes." Came the almost inaudible reply. Another round of ass-reddening swats.
"I can't hear you!" I taunted, "Tell me that you want me to fuck your sweet pussy with my big fat cock, Bitch!"
"Yes." She gasped, or was it a sob? "Yes, I want you to fuck me."
"That's better", I said with an evil grin. I positioned my throbbing prick at her sweet hole, and with a single thrust, buried myself balls deep in perhaps the tightest pussy of my distinguished career as a fornicator. Angie let out a high pitched squeal. Well, she wanted rough, she got rough!
Holding onto Angie's slim hips for dear life, I fucked her furiously from behind, my cum-heavy balls slapping against her clit with each feverish thrust. It didn't take long before the old boy was ready to burst. In an amazing flash of lucidity, considering the circumstances, I realized that I didn't know if she was using birth control. I knew I wasn't, and as much as I wanted to flood this incredible snatch with my juice, I wasn't ready for fatherhood. Looking down, her sweet, puckered nether-hole winked invitingly. Well, she did say "anything"! I pulled out of her pussy and used my dick as a paintbrush, coating Angie's back door with the juice flowing from her sopping cunt. As Angie turned her head to see what I was up to, I spread her ass cheeks wide, positioned my engorged prick at her rear opening, and pressed forward. As the head of my dick intruded past the rubbery sphincter, Angie let out a strangled groan. Pain or pleasure, I couldn't tell, nor did I much care. Slapping both palms down hard on her upturned, violated ass, I began pumping deeper and deeper Angie's impossibly tight, hot hole. It only took a few strokes before my balls boiled over, sending my hot spunk flooding into her chocolate channel in a shuddering orgasm that seemed to last forever.
As my lusty spasms subsided, and my vision cleared, I saw Angie, her face buried in the crumpled sheets, shuddering in the throes of her own orgasm. I pulled out of her and sat back on the bed, watching my jism ooze out of her bung hole, dribbling down over her puffy, red pussy, before dripping onto the sheet to join the stains of prior romantic encounters. Angie remained in her prostrate position until her quaking subsided, and her breathing returned to normal. Reaching back, she removed her ruined panties, which were dangling from her left leg, and used the scarp of material to wipe our co-mingled juices from her crotch. Then she sat up and bean readjusting her clothing, looking annoyed at the missing button on her shirt. "You OK?" I asked.
"Sure", she replied unconvincingly. An uneasy silence followed us as we walked back to my car and began the drive home.
"Well?" I said at last.
"Well what?"
"Don't you want to know who was in the video?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah." Angie said, "Who is it?"
"Well, I hope you won't be too disappointed, but I don't know. It really was just copied from a porn tape". Angie gave me an incredulous look. She obviously didn't believe me. But there was no way I was going to jeopardize my setup with my sex slaves by telling her the truth.
"Doesn't really matter." She said with a mischievous smile, "I wasn't all that interested in the video. I just wanted to get you up to the observatory."
"Jeez, Angie," I laughed, "You didn't have to go through all that. A simple 'Wanna fuck?' would have done it."
"I'm sure." She replied, "But I didn't want you to think I was a slut or anything."
I pulled the car into Angie's driveway and killed the engine. "Can I see you again?" I asked. "Oh yes." She said, again with that sexy look of mischief in her smile, "I'm, sure we'll see each other again real soon. She gathered up her books and walked into the house. As I watched that delectable ass twitch away under her short, plaid skirt, I thought "That is one strange girl. A great fuck, but definitely strange."
to be continued...