tagIllustratedJasmine Fantasies: Becoming a Bimbo

Jasmine Fantasies: Becoming a Bimbo


Summary: Student turns teacher into cum addicted slut for the day.

Note 1: This is a Halloween 2017 Contest Story so please vote.

Note 2: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, thor_p, and Wayne for editing.

I've always thoroughly enjoyed Halloween.

My holiday begins at the high school where I love seeing the creativity of my students, although that creativity sometimes goes overboard with some outfits that are way too revealing... girls and boys. Of course as their math teacher I have to pour cold water on such playfulness, even though secretly I take note of some of their best extravagances to utilise myself on more selective occasions.

This non-traditional sentiment probably tells you that in the evening I get to dress up a little sexier than at school as George, my husband, and I always host an adult only Halloween party. Halloween is his favourite holiday... although I always point out it's not technically a holiday, to which he always replies with some dismissive comment about semantics.

So I always buy two outfits: a conservative one for school and a far less conservative one for the party.

The night always ends the same way, with my being bent over the kitchen counter and being fucked by my husband. Occasionally this takes place even before our final few guests have said their goodnights.

This year for school I chose a cute 50s housewife look which I planned to enhance, at least for my own enjoyment if not anyone else's, with sexy lingerie and thigh highs underneath... and feeling a bit wild and frisky I decided not to wear any panties... my own secret rebellion to the boring stereotype of the math teacher.

For the party I was going as a hot fire fighter... also with thigh highs, but these ones visible from bottom to top and beyond, as my husband was a nylon nut and in the bedroom I was his firehose handling submissive slut.

I've read somewhere that females in jobs of authority are often submissive in the bedroom and although I hate such generic stereotypes, that was indeed me to a T.

At school I was a bit of a hard ass with a reputation of being quite the ball breaker... a rep I liked. I could also be caring, kind and fun, but only if the kids respected the rules of the school and the classroom.

In the bedroom I love being dominated. I love sucking cock, I love being told what to do, I love being pounded, I love taking it in the ass, and I love cum. I love swallowing cum, I love feeling warm cum on my face... it feels so dirty, which makes me feel so good after a long day at work of being in control.

Anyway, I arrived at work like I always did half an hour early to get ready for the day and to have a cup of coffee to get me running on all cylinders.

I hadn't been there two minutes before my hubby called me while I was in my colleagues Joan's classroom, retrieving a data projector remote she'd borrowed from me a couple of days ago. George and I were talking about last minute details about the party when I was startled by Joan's classroom door opening and a very inappropriately dressed Abigail in a slutty French maid's outfit walking towards me. I was going to have to send her home for the third straight day for a dress code violation.

I told my husband I had to go, and greeted Abigail. "And what can I do for you this morning?" I asked, trying to be nice even though she was easily the most exasperating of all my students.

"I have a gift for you," she said, walking up to me and standing directly in front of me, close enough to demonstrate she had no respect for my personal space.

"You do?" I asked, surprised. She'd never remotely hidden her dislike for me, and I likely wasn't much better in return.

"Yes," she nodded, as she moved a small atomizer to my face and sprayed me with a strange mist.

"What are you doing?" I questioned before taking my next habitual breath which unfortunately included most of the odd smelling droplets.

She didn't answer my question but instead waved her hand in the air, intoning like a chant, "For a single day, you will obey, one simple wave, a bimbo slave."

I watched, mystified as I listened to the strange, somehow entrancing words and watched as she moved her hands in a hypnotic way. Annoyed, I asked, "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a Halloween curse," she answered.

"That's ridiculous," I said, or attempted to say. I was suddenly in a foggy haze, feeling slightly nauseous and very dizzy, and my words came out more like, "Zhazz didickieless."

She backed away and pulled out her phone and ordered, "Put your right hand on your breast."

"Abigail, your behaviour is very inappropriate," I rebuked her, as I felt my hand go to my breast. But at least I was feeling normal and could talk again. But I hadn't given my hand permission to move!

What the Hell? I thought to myself.

"Take off your dress Mrs. Walker, let's see those huge tits you're always hiding," she ordered, as I saw her phone pointed at me... likely filming me.

"Abigail," I began, even as I felt my hands move to obey. I tried to stop myself, but couldn't. I stammered, as I felt myself pull my dress over my head, "W-w-what did you do to me?"

She grinned. "I told you, it's a Halloween curse. I've placed a sexual spell of submission on you."

"How is that even possible?" I asked, as I was suddenly standing there wearing only my bra and thigh highs ... cursing myself for my spur of the moment idea it would be fun to go commando to school.

"No panties," she noticed, ignoring my question. "I knew there was more to you than your boring teacher persona."

I covered my pussy but she ordered, "Pose for me. Seductively."

"Abigail, please don't do this," I pleaded, as I came to understand I wasn't the least bit in control of my own body as it placed itself in various provocative poses and she snapped photographs.

"Why do you hide that tight body from everyone?" Abigail questioned, checking me out.

I repeated my plea, "Please, Abigail."

She opened her bag as she ordered, "Get completely naked, my bimbo teacher pet."

Frustration coursed through me as I felt my hands unclasp my bra, unable to disobey any order she gave me, and even worse, my mutinous body was siding with her! My pussy had joined the rebellion, tingling eagerly, looking for unsanctioned fun.

As she pulled out a colourful outfit, she grabbed my bra and said, "Fuck, Mrs. Bimbo, you have huge fucking tits."

"Please, Abigail, stop treating me so inappropriately," I pleaded, my pussy tingling again, telling me to get a life.

"The nylons too, I got a special pair for you, my bimbo cunt licking slut," she ordered, each name making my pussy twitch with pleasure. This time the triple derogatory terms made me moan out load. My vocal cords too? Et tu, Brute?

She added, as I began to remove my thigh highs, "I've given your cunt a quick trigger mechanism. Any derogatory name aimed at you will turn you on even more with instant pleasure awakened in your shaved snatch. Which, by the way, is pretty hot and unexpected. I guess you really are a slut behind that mean, bitchy exterior."

"I'm not a bitch," I protested, as I removed my second nylon. Although I suppose in retrospect I'd been just that in her eyes as I was constantly sending her home for dress code violations.

"True. Today you're not a bitch at all; you're just a malleable... obedient... bimbo... fuck toy," she replied, sending more pulses of pleasure to my very responsive, brainwashed pussy (can you brainwash a pussy?), as she handed me an outfit. "Now put this on."

I looked at it. It was a Supergirl outfit. Most of it made with tissue thin, shiny, form-hugging Lycra. The skirt looked almost like a belt. I gasped, "I can't wear this in school!" Although even as I said this, I was beginning to put on the top, which was definitely too tight across my breasts.

"Today you will obey any order given to you by anyone," she explained.

"But I...." I began.

"Stop talking," she interrupted, and my protest was stopped as quickly as it started, while my nipples, my inexplicably hard nipples, attempted to drill holes to freedom through the skin tight Lycra shirt.

As I put on the skirt and the matching thigh high stockings and boots, she continued, "In case you're wondering why I'm doing this, there are a few reasons. One, your Nazi dress code rules piss me off, even more so now that I see how you dress as a skank underneath your teacher attire. Two, you play favourites, and that pisses me off too. Just because I'm not in drama, the Student Council or Advanced Math doesn't mean I should be treated as a second class student."

As I heard this I felt guilt course through me. I didn't purposely treat my students different from each other, but in retrospect I suppose I did favour kids I worked with outside the classroom, although I was confident that in my math classes advanced versus regular versus modified had no influence on me. My modified class was often the class I enjoyed the most, as they were exactly who they were and didn't play the games some of my advanced kids did.

"Third, you failed Ben," she finished.

Ben was her brother, who, in my defense, had skipped over fifty of my classes.

"So to quote Mother Nature, by the power invested in me... by me... I find you, Slut Jasmine Walker, guilty of gross bitchiness and sexual hypocrisy and I hereby sentence you to one day of sexual servitude. For the rest of today you will be completely at the whim of me and anyone who figures out you're incapable of saying no, and in reality are a cunt licking... cock sucking... ass taking... bimbo bitch who wants nothing more or less than to be a three-hole fuck toy to her students," she intoned, each nasty descriptor sending another wave of pleasure directly to my sensitive, disloyal cunt, who (who?) was eating all this up and sending out for drinks.

My body quaked as I finished pulling up the second red thigh high.

"In short, you will eat pussy, suck dick and get both that shaved snatch and that tight asshole pounded," she continued, my cunt on fire, straining at the bit, eager to get started on this irresistible list of things Abigail expected me to do, while my conscious mind screamed NO!

As I put on the boots, she added, "I can see past that bitchy exterior, Mrs. Walker. Behind that façade of propriety is a sexy submissive slut who loves being dominated and used."

Although the submissive slut portion of that was true in many ways, at least within the confines of my bedroom, it sure wasn't true in my classroom, or worse yet in my colleague's classroom.

She then asked, "Do you remember Miles Park?"

How did she know Miles? He was a nerd when I was in high school and I'd played a mean prank on him back in our senior year. At the time my fellow cheerleaders and I thought it was funny, but after the fact I felt pretty guilty.

"You may answer my questions, no more, no less," she said, and my invisible gag was suddenly released with conditions.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Do you remember what you did to him at prom?" she asked, her tone implying she knew exactly what I'd done and she didn't approve.

"Yes," I nodded, as I finished putting on the second boot.

"Do you regret it?"


"Why did you do it?"

"My girlfriends and I were dumb teenagers," I replied, which was the truth in retrospect. I recalled him running down the hall naked after we... primarily I... got him to undress with the promise of sex, and then pushed him out of a classroom. Presumably he'd then been forced to escape the school trying not to be seen, skulk home in the dark and ring his own doorbell so his parents could let him inside and begin demanding answers. All while totally naked. It was a cruel prank and I'd almost immediately regretted doing it, but in the twenty plus years since I'd never thought to do anything to apologise or make amends.

"Well, he's my father," she revealed.

I went to respond, to offer a way overdue apology, but no words came out. I realized after a moment it was because she hadn't asked me a question.

She ordered, "Pose for me like you really are Supergirl."

My body did as it was told even as I felt mortified and ridiculous.

"We should take this party back to your own classroom, Mrs. bimbo cunt munching fuck slut," she said, as my entire body quaked and wetness leaked out of my fevered pussy.

Oddly, I was thankful. My colleague Joan and her students should be here any minute and if I was going to be forced to do unthinkable things, I at least needed to do it in the confines of my own classroom with the door locked.

Once we were in my room, she moved to me and put her hand under my skimpy skirt. She asked, "Why are you so wet?"

I moaned on her touch as I responded, "Because you've somehow manipulated my vagina to get wet when you say disgusting words."

She slid a couple of fingers inside me easily as she explained a new rule to me, "Bimbo cum sluts call their vagina a pussy or better yet a cunt. Is that clear, you bimbo cum slut cunt hungry teacher?"

"Yes," I answered, as my pussy burned with lust at the fingers pumping inside me as well as the trigger words sending rush after rush of pleasure through my... cunt.

"Do you want to eat my cunt on your desk?" she asked, before adding, "And you must only answer with your subconscious truth."

Although I was horny, and had fantasized about lesbian sex many times, I was surprised by my response, "Yes."

"Good girl," she smiled as she walked over to my desk, hopped onto it, spread her legs and ordered, "Now come get your breakfast, my teacher bimbo slut."

My cunt gushed again as I involuntarily walked over to my desk, dropped to my knees feeling both inexplicably excited and equally mortified as she spread her legs open, revealing she too wasn't wearing any underwear. But then unlike me, she hadn't arrived at school this morning attempting to look respectable, so in a way I was worse. As I stared at her shaved snatch in awe of what I was about to do, she added, "Now you'd better hurry. People will be coming in here in only a few minutes and I need to come before I'll allow you to stop eating me."

Realizing she was right about the time, I buried my face into her pussy and began licking. The taste was surprisingly subtly sweet. I was totally inexperienced at doing this, so I licked her like I'd seen the bimbo sluts in porn movies do it. Although I was straight, the idea of lesbian sex did turn me on when I was home alone and reading or writing erotica, or watching porn... mostly lesbian porn where younger girls seduced older women like the delicious Way Better than Dad where a step-daughter makes her step-mom feel better after the father leaves them for another woman, or The Magic Diary where a girl uses - what else - a magic diary to seduce her step-mom. That said, until this moment my fantasy and reality worlds had been very separate.

"You love cum, Jasmine. Wet girl cum. Hot boy cum. For the rest of the day you will crave cum. Tasty sweet girl cum. Salty bland boy cum. You want it in your mouth, warming your belly and coating your face," she instructed me, which made me instantly lap faster, made me instantly famished and desperate to taste her full blast of creamy cum.

She moaned, "Oh yeah, I bet you were a dirty fucking cunt licking cheerleader in high school."

My cunt leaked out of me, down my thighs and onto the floor at her nasty words. Truth be told, the eighties had been a different time, and although we'd kissed each other a couple of times in front of our boyfriends, we'd never done anything more than that. In college I was eaten out once by a cute freshmen in my senior year at a party when we were both drunk, but I didn't return the favour (an omission I'd often regretted).

"Whether or not, today you will be a cunt licking, cock sucking, ass taking, bimbo teacher cum slut," she listed, each term sending wave after wave of intensity directly to my burning pussy and I moaned into her pussy as I licked.

Hearing a knock on my locked door, my eyes went wide and I shoved a finger in her cunt in hopes of accelerating her orgasm.

It seemed to do the trick as she moaned, "Oh yes, fuck, finger fuck me you bimbo bitch."

I licked, I fingered, and she moaned loudly (but thankfully didn't scream), as she came... her wetness splattering all over my face.

I briefly forgot where I was as I kept licking, eagerly capturing every last drop of the sweet pussy juice I now craved.

Another knock brought me back to the reality that I was on my knees, between a student's legs, with pussy juice all over my face... not to mention dressed like a slut who could care less about what people knew about the size, shape and state of her nipples.

"You may stand up bimbo, cunt licking slut, fuck toy, whore, lesbo teacher, ass whore, bitch," she rattled off at a rapid pace as my entire body trembled and more wetness gushed out of me... leaving me disheveled and near my own orgasm. She added, as I grabbed the desk for balance, "You may only come when given permission, slut, slut, slut, slut, slut."

More body quaking intense pleasure... as we heard a third knock.

"Go get the door," she ordered, before adding, "you may speak again, and freely."

Instantly I was able to speak, so I pointed out, "Everyone will be staring at my hard nipples!"

She moved up to me and placed a hand on each of my hard nipples as she said, "Eager nipples now retreat till time for slut's next sexual heat."

I watched my nipples soften to become far less prominent beneath the clingy fabric.

I stammered, in awe of her magic powers, "T-t-thanks."

"You're welcome, bimbo fuck toy. Now don't you dare change your costume, and you may not tell anyone you're cursed for the day," she replied as she walked to the door and opened it for me. As I leaned against my desk trying to regain my composure, she greeted, "Oh, hi Ashley."

Ashley, my daughter, walked in and asked, "Why was the door locked, Mom?"

"I didn't know it was," I lied.

"And what on earth are you wearing?" she asked, looking askance at my outfit.

"Is it too much?" I asked.

"No, it's too little. Your skirt is shorter than mine, your shirt is tighter and flimsier than mine, and I'm wearing a bra," she pointed out... her outfit not looking so bad after she'd shown it to me last night, then adjusted several aspects I'd thought were too daring. My outfit was far more sexy and inappropriate than hers had been in the first place.

"Yeah, I didn't realize I bought a small instead of a large," I sighed.

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