Detention

Jack Hanson sat at his desk, writing notes about the day's students. He made sure to record every detail about every girl that graced his classroom. His notes included what they wore, how they acted, who they touched, how they touched them, how smart they were, how desperate they were, and the chance they'd submit to him in detention.

The last bell rang. In ten minutes, a new one was coming. Putting away today's notes, Jack grabbed the ones he needed. One stupid student, willing to do whatever he wanted, thinking there wasn't an alternative.

Sarah bounced in five minutes before detention started. Her large, perky breasts were held on display by the tight t-shirt she wore, stopping three inches above her waist, with the words "touch 'em, I dare ya'" in red letters over the black cloth. The matching black skirt stopped five inches above the knee, and displayed the words "Spank me" on the back as she turned to her seat. He would take her up on both offers.

She had finally turned eighteen, the only one of society's restrictions he followed. He had been raised to believe that it wasn't right to touch anyone younger, and he stuck to that. The sluts showed their true nature at a younger age, and deserved whatever came their way, but the age was sacred. He never broke that rule.

The slut had earned herself a night with Master Jack for dress code violations and in school acts of lewdness, as they liked to call it. He called it a training pass. After today only one of those would be an issue.

After Sarah sat down, Jack walked to the door, carefully studying her face. The skin had a flawless quality to it, her straight blonde hair framed it well before it ran down her back, and most importantly, he could sense she had an unfulfilled craving for sex. Locking the door, he turned to her.

"Do you know my favorite thing about this room," he asked, "it's the fact that it's completely soundproof. No matter how loud you yell, no one can hear you," answering his own question, "and the fact that this door is the only way out, and I have the key, is also nice."

Sarah looked at him and smiled. "I've had dreams about you, Mr. Hanson, and if you'd like to make them come true, I'll be glad to assist you whenever you ask." She put stress on "assist", making it painfully obvious what she really meant.

Looking deep into her eyes, Jack crouched right in front of her desk. "Tell me Sarah, what would you most like me to do and what should I never do?"

The excitement was bursting out of Sarah's eyes. She could barely contain herself. "Go down on me Mr. Hanson! Please!" Pausing she added, "but my ass is no place for a cock."

Jack backhanded her, leaving a large red mark on her cheek. "Listen you pathetic whore, this is the way things work. When you are here, I am your Master. You will address me as such, you will follow my orders, and you will enjoy it. When you leave here, you will know nothing of this. Do you understand slut?"

Sarah swallowed slowly. "Yes... Master." She looked down at her lap, wishing she could leave.

"There's one more thing. My pleasure is your greatest concern. Keep me happy, and I'll treat you better. Don't take this as a sign to be a perfectly obedient bitch, doing exactly what I say, and nothing else. You need to please me without my asking, and know when to resist a little. Screwing up will only cause you pain."

Sarah panicked. She didn't know what to do. "How will I know when to disobey you?"

"You don't disobey, you delay. Once sometimes, twice other times. Three earns a spank, at least. Figure when out for yourself. Now bitch, I want some entertainment." Jack walked back to his desk, and sat down. "Dance for me bitch. Show me how you live to pleasure your superiors."

Sarah walked to his desk, wearing her best smile. She placed her leg his chair, giving him a partial view up her skirt. When Mr. Hanson looked up it, she quickly pulled her leg back, spinning around so her skirt went up. As he saw the back of her panties, he slapped her ass hard.

Almost enjoying it, she held her ass just over his lap, moving gently as she felt his cock harden. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her breasts. Moving his hands away, she put her knees on the chair, straddling his lap. Kissing him, she undid the knot of his tie, and tossed it away.

Jack rubbed the bitch's back as she unbuttoned his shirt with her mouth, slowly moving each button out with her tongue. It was clear the bitch had done this before. When the last button was undone, he leaned forward so she could slide it off.

Sarah spun his shirt around over her head before tossing it away, kissing him. He felt her excited tongue explore his mouth, massaging hers as she did. Her hands ran through his hair, gripping his head tightly. Moving his hands down, he rubbed her ass, slapping it occasionally.

She felt Mr. Hanson push her back, maintaining the kiss as long as she could. His eyes said he had enjoyed the kiss, and she started to move in for another one. Pushed away again, she stopped.

"Beg for my dick, bitch," Mr. Hanson was smiling as he ordered her, "Beg as if touching your Master's cock is the only thing you desire, and will die without it."

"Please Mr. Hanson," she started, but was promptly slapped hard across her face, knocking her down. He was angry, and she didn't understand.

"I am your Master, and you shall address me as such. Fail to do so, and you will feel pain greater than anything you have felt before. There will not be any mercy on the third failure. It will be your last mistake."

"Master, let me please your cock. Let me touch the greatness of it, and bring you to orgasm. Let me touch an object that must be made from the gods." She nearly vomited as she spoke that last sentence.

"Yes, it is made by God, and you should thank me for letting you touch its greatness."

"Thank you, Master." She took her hands to his pants, unbuttoning them, and with a mix of fear and excitement, she lowered the zipper. He aided her, pulling them off along with his underwear.

His cock sprang to life, standing erect at a good eight inches, proud and ready for action. It was wide, more than an inch in diameter. She felt an urge wash over her, craving it like she never had before.

She placed her mouth on the tip, gently kissing Master's amazing form. Her heart raced as she began to take it into her mouth, licking it slowly. Taking her hands, she gently rubbed his balls. Closing her eyes, she moved her head farther down, clamping her lips and sucking vigorously.

The taste of his skin was wonderful. She rubbed her tongue around the head, feeling it warm as she sucked. His balls tightened as she rubbed, preparing what might be the last taste of her life.

Her enjoyment of his cock was interrupted by a hard slap, and having her head pulled away by her hair. Looking up into her Master's eyes, she waited patiently for his word.

"Hold your face over my cock, and let my cum land on it. When I have finished, you will swallow what remains on me, and wait for further instructions."

She obediently placed her head close to him, vigorously masturbating him with both hands, hoping to get it over sooner. She hated cum, and rarely went as far as letting it into her mouth. She had sworn to never swallow, and wished it could remain that way.

It didn't. Cum splattered all over her face, and more remained on his cock, enough to completely cover the head. She slowly went down, licking it off slowly to not anger him. The taste was horrible; bitter and salty. She choked it down, and started to wipe her face, but was smacked hard on the side of her head.

"My cum is to remain on your face until you are granted the joy of swallowing it," he ordered, "Now go to the closet and find a way to please me. I expect something good from you, bitch. You have proven yourself to show at least some competence."

"Yes Master," her voice weakened, "and thank you for the compliment."

Sarah stumbled to the back of the room, shaking as she moved. Nearly falling, she heard Master yell something about not bruising his new property. She started to cry, scared of what he might do. Would she even live to see tomorrow?

Opening the closet, she could see she was far from the first person to be controlled by Master. The closet was filled with clothing, outfits ranging from sexy clothing to fetish-wear. Above that was a rack with hats, ears, tails, and anything else you could wear during foreplay. On the right were shelves filled with various toys, some labeled "for Master's use only", and one box that couldn't be opened.

Sarah wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign. He had obviously been doing this for years, and getting away with it. She had lived here all her life, and never heard of any murders or disappearances. She'd go home, but Master would do something to make her stay quiet. Was that the better option?

She pondered what Master would like best. Maybe if she did a good enough job, he'd let her go. She slapped her forehead. If he liked it, he'd definitely be back for more.

"Don't damage my property, bitch," Jack yelled, "That's my job." Sarah shivered again. She may live, but today would hurt.

She turned back to the closet, wondering what to pick. She started to think about doing a bad job, but stopped herself, and made sure not to slap her forehead. That would be worse than doing a good job. She had to aim for mediocre. Good enough that he'd be entertained, but nothing special enough to bring back.

Another thought came to her. Would Master keep her if she wasn't very good? It must be hard to get a student in a position like this... what if he only picked one at a time? The school year had just begun, and she had two classes with him each day. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I'm sick of waiting for you, bitch," Jack yelled, "From now on, every minute you spend back there is a hard spanking with a ruler on a bare ass," Lowering his voice, he added, "and my spanking arm is in great shape."

Sarah jumped and began sifting through the clothes, looking for one that would work. She thought back to things Master had said and done in class, hoping to think of something that would please him. She had him for English and study hall, so the former should be of use.

What were the books being covered? Her thoughts were scattered, and could barely think. They weren't the kind of books you'd usually read in school, but she was two busy fantasizing about the boy sitting next to her.

"One minute, one spank, bitch, Jack yelled, "but take your time."

The threat got her thoughts off that damn boy, and it hit her. They were reading fantasy books. Maybe a magical creature would please him.

She struggled to think of magical creatures that would excite Mr. Hanson. A nymph was too ordinary, a demoness was too threatening, a centaur was too horse bodied... Her thoughts trailed off as she heard another yell.

"Three minutes, three spanks," Jack yelled in a menacing tone, "and if you don't start picking things by the five minute mark, I'm making it five spanks a minute."

English wasn't giving her an answer, so Sarah searched her mind for anything that might help from study hall. She was usually sitting close to Master; he seemed attractive until today. His dark brown hair, deep blue eyes, and muscles showing through even the thickest of shirts. The fact that he still seemed attractive made her fists tighten; the thought of wanting him was now so disgusting.

She remembered one of her classmates asking for his help on her homework, and listening in on their conversation. They had discussed many things, and it was hard for her to focus. Fear of the pain to come stole her mind.

"That's the five minute mark," Master said, grinning, "I'm so glad you waited. Hopefully you won't miss sitting too much." His voice seemed so gentle, but it made her heart race, knowing what lay beneath his words.

Sarah struggled to return her thoughts to the conversation in study hall, hoping it would provide an answer. The girl had asked about a creature in one of the stories they had read... something no longer human. Master had remarked that it was a sexual creature, both dominating in its nature, yet at the same time, a victim to its urge to mate.

As she turned his words around in her head, while aimlessly sifting through the clothes in hopes Master wouldn't be angry if she didn't appear to be pausing. She kept glancing at him, hoping he would believe her charade, when it finally hit her. He loved vampires. Soon she would please him, looking as the sexiest vampire he had ever laid eyes on.

The tears came faster now, mixing with the cum on her face. Not only had she become his slave, but she was enjoying it too. Could she be any more pathetic?

"If you stall for one more second, that pretty little face of yours will be coming home with lies about an accident." Jack's calm tone showed no hint of exaggeration. She turned to him, with the most desperate look she could imagine on her face, barely able to speak to him.

"Please Master, don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you ask, whenever you ask. Please Master, just don't hurt me." As she said those words, she watched her Master's face, looking for any sympathy.

"Of course you will. I thought that was clear, bitch." His face only angered as he spoke. "I wasn't going to act on that threat, but your pathetic ignorance proves you need to learn your place."

As Jack stood up, Sarah stepped backward, but quickly found herself against the wall. She tried to run, but found herself paralyzed. Her breath was heavy as Master approached her.

Jack grabbed her head, and tossed her forward. She hit a desk, and didn't move. Perfect.

"Lean over the desk, and keep your little ass in the air, bitch," he ordered, and she immediately obeyed.

He lifted up her skirt, flipping it so it rested on her back. Pulling down her lace black panties, he gently slapped her ass, judging what it would take. It was surprisingly soft; even with all her whoring, her ass was preserved.

Grabbing his ruler, he gave her one hard slap across the ass. She cried out in pain, and before she stopped his second swing had struck. As her screams grew more and more desperate, he made sure his strikes continued to get harder. It took great will for him to stop at twenty five, but he always followed his rules.

Jack smiled as he lifted his little bitch up by her hair, licking the dried tears off her face, even though it took the cum too. The bitch struggled, trying to push his arm away. Her weakened eyes suddenly had new life, and her spirit was strong enough that she could be broken a second time. It was a rare treat for him; so few brought themselves back for even a moment after crumbling before their superior.

He lifted her away from the wall and gently swinging her toward the front of the room, then slammed her back into it and let her fall. Her crumpled form quickly rose as she lifted her leg to kick him. Sarah suddenly found her leg in her Mas- No, in Mr. Hanson's hand. She had to keep that name in her mind. Master could not be stopped. With Mr. Hanson, she had a chance.

He tossed the bitch across the room, glad that he finally had one with some fight in her. Breaking them mentally got what he wanted, but there wasn't much fun in it. The fear they showed when he took them down was of great pleasure to him, more than the orgasms they gave him later.

Jack walked over to the bitch as she lifted her head, their eyes meeting. There was rage within her, and enough to keep her going for a while. This bitch must really think she matters.

The bitch made a weak swing at his crotch, easily stopped by grabbing her wrist. He lifted her by it, holding her for a moment, then dropping her, and quickly using his other hand to slam her against the wall by her neck, with a loud thud.

"I suppose you think that because no one hears of students being killed that you're going to live through this." Jack paused for well over a minute, waiting for her face to change, letting her fear grow. "You're right. I don't kill. Bodies are messy, and it's pointless when you'll never tell anyone about today. I could give you names of other bitches that were in your place, and in the unlikely event you did tell, the others would deny it. You bitches are weak."

Sarah swallowed. Mas- Mr. Hanson was right. She'd do anything to forget today. It would be too painful to remember, and his eyes said he wasn't even started. Looking down and closing her eyes, she started to wish it would all go away.

She saw the faces of every boy she had ever kissed, most of whom had received much more. Mas- Mr. Hanson was right. She was a slut. She'd fuck someone to be more popular. She'd fuck someone to make a fool of them. She once fucked three at a time on a dare. The winner received five bucks. Five lousy bucks.

Mostly, she fucked to ruin people. She'd fuck a guy and tell his girlfriend. Once she fucked a guy to tell his boyfriend. Sarah realized how much of a pathetic slut she was then. She had gotten a gay man to fuck her, gave his boyfriend a video - with her face hidden, of course - and made sure that her friends learned of her accomplishment.

Ma- Mr. Hanson still had her by the neck, but he wasn't chocking her. He was saying something, instructions and insults, but she was focusing on his body. His other arm was reaching for something, and his eyes followed it. She could move, and he wasn't looking.

Jack finally grabbed Daddy, his name for the rough paddle he used to spank the bitches. He loved the way they begged for Daddy to touch them, the way they finally admitted just how slutty they were. Given the chance, they'd do anything with anyone, even Daddy. As he turned back to the bitch, his face changed.

He dropped the bitch, doubling over after a swift kick in the crotch. Her shoes were hard, and he was unprotected. He couldn't stand. Quickly moving his hands, he made sure she didn't get a second strike. It was an unnecessary move, as she had already run to the door.

"Don't bother, bitch," His voice was weakened, but still stronger than most, "you can't get out. The door is bolted, and soundproof. Without the key, you won't be going anywhere."

"Where is it," Sarah asked, with a voice stronger than she had before, "Give it to me, or you'll see what my legs can really do." She had a fire in her eyes, and was ready. She knew Mr. Hanson would rush to stop her, and one mistake could be enough.

He didn't. He walked across the room, heading to that dreaded closet, with whatever he had picked up earlier. While he began doing things to the box that didn't open. It was a slow process; something made it very hard to open. Whatever was in there, he had made sure no one else could get it.

She frantically searched for anything she could use as a weapon against him. There wasn't much, it was after all, a classroom. Anything else had to be hidden, like he did with the closet. Rulers, pens, pencils, and a yardstick were all she saw. Checking his desk, she found a whip hidden in one drawer. There was probably skill required to use it effectively, but she could still cause pain.

Mr. Hanson slowly walked up to her, holding a paddle of some form in his left hand, and a black stick in the other. As soon as he was close enough, she swung the whip as hard as she could, aim for his left shoulder. He seemed to favor that hand.

Dropping the paddle, he raised his hand in time for the whip to wrap around it, leaving a large gash. Before she brought it back for a second strike, he grabbed it tightly, and yanked it toward him. She fell forward, right onto him. His bloody hand grabbed her wrist, tighter than he was doing before. She hadn't done the right thing.

Mr. Hanson tossed her to the side, bumping her head on the desk. She felt dizzy, but she snapped back when he had lifted the black stick, and felt her hair stand as it approached her head. He kept it sealed because it could hurt him.