Jasmine Fantasies: Becoming a Bimbo


She sat up and emphasised, "Yep, you're a keeper."

I asked, still on my knees, "This is only a one day curse, right?"

She nodded as she got off my desk, "Yes, but one day is enough to get you addicted." I knew it! As she helped me up off the floor, she added, "I imagine you're already there." I agreed with her. I must be! Today was humiliating and frustrating as hell, but I'd loved every moment of the sex with these girls and couldn't wait for more.

She grabbed the strap-on, put it in her over-sized backpack and said, "Whenever you need some cunt cum, just ask. As you will have noticed, I can cum buckets all over my cum buckets!"

I just nodded as I wiped a bit of the wetness from my face, leaving in place not buckets but definitely lots, before Cleo opened my locked door and my next students filed in.

I quickly moved to my desk, still a little lightheaded after my intense orgasm and not wanting my modified students, who were a handful even on a good day when I was in full control of myself, to see any more of my well-used body than necessary.

I put a movie on, knowing it would keep them relatively distracted, even though it didn't have anything to do with the class. It was a Halloween film.

As it played, I sat at my desk with time to really process the wicked, wild morning while my head wasn't yet muddled with its hourly recurrence of bimbo-itis (like bimbofication a word I'd just created).

I had so many questions and challenges and no real answers.

1. I was cursed... for the day.

2. I couldn't say no to any order (I wondered if that meant non-sexual orders too, like some five-year-old coming up to me on the street and telling me to pick my nose so she could giggle and point).

3. The longer each hour transpired, the more my mind faded and became clouded with bimbo-itis.

4. I wasn't the only one... it seemed our principal was also a submissive slut ... which was unbelievable, but there was really no reason for Cleo to lie.

5. There were hints of even more submissives lurking around the school. Had they all been cursed as well?

6. How long had this secret sex society (for lack of a better term) been going on?

7. How many of my current students were involved in this secret sex society? How many of them knew they could just walk up to me and make demands I'd be compelled to obey?

8. I was in awe at how my body was controlling my mind... how quickly and helplessly I shifted to my inherent submissiveness like I did in my bedroom (or back in college).

9. How even now, early in the hour while still thinking straight, I was already craving cunt (was that because of the curse or just my own dormant pussy craving emerging?).

10. How could I keep engaging in hourly sexual rendezvous without getting caught?

11. On that note, how was it possible I hadn't already been caught? During the breaks on other days my room almost always had students arriving early for the following period.

12. Just how widespread was this secret sex society?

13. Lastly, please, please, please don't let my daughter be involved in this conspiracy in any way.

As I pondered all these issues, the internal lust had been slowly building inside me. From completely satiated right after receiving Cleo's gift (gift was an odd word choice but what had first popped into my mind), to a slowly growing lust lurking inside of me, to now with just a few minutes left in class, again beginning to literally salivate at the hunger inside me. (I wondered if this is how vampires felt... you know, if they were real... and craved cum instead of blood... and instead of drinking it from people's necks... oh, never mind.)

I was startled to be brought out of these thoughts by the intercom on the wall ringing. I reluctantly got up, hoping the room's darkness would hide how short my skirt was. I answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Mrs. Mason needs to see you right now, Mrs. Walker," the school secretary Juliana informed me.

"Right now or at the bell?" I asked, looking at the clock... ten minutes left in the hour... my hunger approaching critical mass, at which point I would probably explode.

"Yes, right now," she confirmed, just as another teacher, Betty Jones walked into my room.

She was dressed in a scandalously revealing pirate outfit complete with nylons, which didn't make any practical sense for swashbuckling... the blood and gore would show, "I'm here to cover the last few minutes of your class, Jasmine," she said. I then realized all my... my contacts? so far had been wearing nylons... perhaps a hint. Which made me remember, as I walked to the office, my daughter had been wearing nylons too. Which probably meant... I didn't even want to think about it!

I reached the office and Juliana sent me right into the boardroom (not Mrs. Mason's office), which was odd. I walked in and the principal was indeed there. She instructed, "Close the door, Jasmine."

I did, locking it, somehow confident the principal was about to provide my next pussy fix. She was also dressed inappropriately in a cop outfit with a skirt as short as mine and of course was wearing thigh high stockings.

"Enjoying your day?" she asked, looking at my inappropriate outfit but not commenting on it. Except for my nipple-hugging top, it was no worse than hers.

"It's been a surreal learning experience," I answered.

"I imagine so," she nodded, before asking, "Hungry?"

"Famished," I replied, watching her climb up on the boardroom table to lie on her back... wondering how she'd ended up being involved in this. Had she been cursed too?

"Come and get it, Jasmine, you only have a few minutes," she said.

"What happens if I don't get my hourly dose?" I asked, as I moved to get on the table.

"That would be disastrous; you'd be cursed forever," she answered, spreading her legs.

"Oh God!" I gasped, looking at the clock. I had ten minutes. A sudden urgency took control and I didn't ask any of the many questions swimming around in my head. All I wanted was her cunt juice before I became a 24/7 bimbo!

"Get licking, Jasmine," she ordered, as I buried my face frantically in her glistening pussy.

I licked eagerly, desperate for my hourly fix, thinking it was good to know where I could find a quick, discrete, fix for the rest of the day... which may solve the sudden terror I felt about becoming a full time bimbo forever.

I was enjoying this day... I really was... but the risk of getting caught was a constant fear except when the hunger took control.

"Oh Jasmine, I've been looking forward to this day for a while," she moaned.

That surprised me. I mean I sure hadn't considered Principal Mason a lesbian before today... of course I hadn't seen myself as one before today either. I mean, was eating pussy a fantasy of mine? Sure. Had I hoped one day to make it a reality? Ummm, actually yes. Did the majority of my lesbian fantasies center around being seduced by my teenage students? Unfortunately yes. Yet had I planned on actually allowing any of this to happen... especially at school? God, no.

Yet at the moment I focused on the task at tongue as after a couple of minutes of licking inside her pink slit, I moved to her big, swollen clit and sucked it between my lips.

"Oh fuck, Jasmine," she moaned, lifting her ass up, and quickly pulling her mini skirt off... although I didn't see why... it sure wasn't hindering my access to her delicious twat.

Yet I helped her pull it off as she ordered, "Now really tuck into your lunch."

I was utterly famished! The curse had made me into a lustful bimbo, and not only on the surface.

I was completely desperate, glancing at the clock and seeing only five minutes left!

I was a hunter on the prowl for throbbing wet cunt. I pulled her ass up, draped her legs over my shoulders, positioned my legs on either side of her and dove into her cunt like it was an artesian well and I'd been many weeks in the desert.

"You crazy bitch," she moaned, as I attacked her cunt, hungry like a wolf bitch.

"Need cunt cum," I babbled, my speech patterns descending to primal levels as I sucked on her clit.

"Oh yes, suck my clit, you eager little slut," my fearless leader led.

I kept sucking it between my lips, shaking my head from side to side as I heard her breaths and moans increasing rapidly.

"Yes, yes, yesssssss!" she screamed, louder than she should have, although I would later learn the boardroom was soundproof.

As was my norm today, I eagerly lapped up the creamy cum that satiated my mentally manipulated hunger... which allowed me to regain control of my senses and libido... although I was enjoying this pussy way too much to stop even after my addiction was satisfied.

"Oh fuck," she moaned. "I'll have to assign you additional responsibilities around here."

I laughed, "Other duties as assigned by the principal?"

"Definitely," she smiled, looking up at me.

Although I was sexually satisfied, the idea of doing this again on my own terms, or at least more leisurely, was very appealing at the moment.


I asked, as we got off the table, "So how does this all work?"

"All in good time," she said, grabbing her skirt. "Mistress Abigail will explain everything when she chooses to do so."

"Mistress Abigail?" I questioned.

"Yes, but again, she will explain it all to you in due course," she repeated.

"Okay," I nodded, my curiosity piqued.

"Plus, you have a lunchtime surprise scheduled for 12:30," she added.

"I do?" I question, my curiosity piqued again.

"Yep," she nodded, saying no more except for, "just go and wait in your classroom."

"Okay," I said, turning to leave.

"Welcome to the club," she said, as I reached the door.

I stopped, hoping she would answer this, "Do stockings give a hint of who else is in the club?"

She smiled, "You're learning already."

'Oh God,' I thought to myself, thinking of my daughter's stockings this morning. It now being lunch, I headed to the staff washroom, really needing to wash and ablute.

As I strode down the halls I noticed Juliana (who'd earlier been sitting behind her desk) was in thigh high stockings and a 1920's flapper outfit. I noticed two more of my female colleagues were also in thigh highs: Emily was in a cream-coloured Marilyn Monroe outfit with matching thigh highs looking absolutely beautiful and Kimberly, who was our eldest teacher in her early fifties was in a shocking witch costume and black stockings outfit with a black top hugging her huge tits as revealingly as mine did. I assumed they were both my fellow submissives... my curiosity piqued for the third time in two minutes.

I scrubbed my face with gallons of water.

I went to pee.

I filled up my water bottle.

I then returned to my classroom quite early for my 12:30 meeting... my pussy already just beginning to tingle... my mouth just beginning to salivate. It wasn't soon enough for the curse to kick in again, but my anticipation of another unpredictable sexual encounter didn't need any curse to get my juices flowing.

I sat down at my desk and pulled out my Montreal Smoked Meat sandwich. I ate it all, and was finishing my banana when Marcus walked in... dressed as a stripper (only Marcus would be allowed to walk around the school shirtless as we were like most schools and the football players owned us). It never occurred to me I'd be lucky enough for him to be my 12:30, although it was already 12:28. But when he closed my door and locked it, I realized I was about to change sides for a while.

Marcus was our star running back and already had scholarship offers from a dozen schools. And truth be told, he was my secret big black cock fantasy. Many of my stories are about black pussies and black cocks and how white men or women submit to them. This year Marcus was my black cock seduction fantasy, my muse, the face and body I imagined naked and oh so virile every time I needed inspiration to write passionately about Big Black Cocks. Have I ever mentioned to you how often I get off while I write these stories? If they didn't get my engine running I wouldn't bother to write them, and visions of Marcus doing whatever (if you want to know the meaning of whatever, read my recent BBC stories) to me with his ebony pecker were compelling motivations for me to keep writing. But in a few minutes I wouldn't need to imagine anymore, I could remember!

So, as he walked toward me I wasn't sure if it was the slut spell or my own black cock fantasy casting me under his spell as I asked, "Are you my 12:30?"

He ignored the question but just walked up next to me and ordered, "Take those boots off, teach."

I spun my chair around, hurriedly swallowed the rest of my banana and smiled coyly, "Are you a foot guy?"

He nodded, "Hurry up, teach." Not coyly, just in charge.

"Yes, sir," I replied, as I pulled my rather uncomfortable boots off... I was used to being stocking-clad when I was being submissive at home, so this was a plus.

Once they were off I wiggled my toes, noticing him staring at them through the sheer toe hosiery, just like my husband does.

"Floor," he ordered, his gaze never leaving my feet.

"Yes, sir." I was fully into my submissive persona, a mixture of the spell and my own personal fantasies. I wanted him to know I was an obedient submissive. I slid off the chair and onto my ass, lifting my foot up to his crotch area. "Is this for me, sir?" I asked, stroking his hard cock with my foot.

He lowered himself down too and took my foot in his hand, sliding his big black hands up and down my legs. "Man have I wanted to feel these nylon clad legs all semester, Mrs. W." He was the only one who called me Mrs. W, the only one I allowed to, as if I'd been predicting this moment two months ago.

"Well, I wear sheer stockings like these every day," I pointed out, as he kissed the sole of my foot.

After kissing both my feet for a couple of minutes, including paying attention to each toe individually, my wet peach invitingly available to him, he stood up and pulled down his shorts.

I gasped.

His cock was fucking porn star huge. I thought, Memorize this visual, Jasmine! This Big Black Beauty has got to go in your next story!

I couldn't hide my shock and awe as I said, "Holy fuck!"

"I know," he nodded, as he got back on his knees. I instinctively moved my feet to his huge, mouth-watering cock and began giving him a nylon foot job.

"Oh yeah," he groaned, staring at my feet as I stroked his cock... something I often did for my husband... sometimes he would even come just from a nylon foot job.

"God, I want your cock in me," I purred earnestly, as I felt his stiffness gliding between my feet. Wondering if I could take that entire long shaft in my mouth. Wondering how it would feel in my cunt. Wondering if I could possibly take it in my ass. Wondering if I could get away with writing a story featuring three well-hung black studs all named Marcus triple-teaming one grateful but gorgeous and oh-so-sexy slut named Jasmine.

I was definitely willing to research all four of those unanswered questions; three as soon as possible, the fourth later.

"You want it, you got it. I'm about to blacken you, Mrs. W," he said.

"I don't know if I'll ever be the same," I smiled, his cock a good four inches longer than my husband's, who usually satisfied me more than adequately. If not with his cock, with his tongue.

He chuckled, "All you white MILF sluts say that."

"How many white sluts do you have?" I asked.

"Oh, the list is growing almost every day," he chuckled again.

"I can certainly imagine why," I said, completely mesmerized by his glorious cock and feverishly taking mental notes.

He stood up, pulled me to my feet and led me to a desk, where he sat down.

I didn't need any instructions as I bowed down before him and stared at the super-sized missile aimed directly at my face.

"Suck my balls first, Mrs. W," he ordered.

I reluctantly obeyed, impatient to feel his chocolate cock between my lips.

That said, I also liked sucking a nice pair of balls, and he did have an amazing pair.

As I sucked one ball into my mouth, he groaned, "Nothing hotter than a white slut sucking my black balls."

"What about face fucking a white slut?" I questioned, as I licked his ball sac.

"Oh, that's pretty hot too," he laughed.

"Or pounding a white slut's tight cunt?" I added, loving the interracial banter, my long-time fantasy finally about to come true... as I moved to his other... go ahead, call me racist but I mean this in the best possible way, even worshipfully... his other Big Black Ball.

"Oh don't worry Mrs. W, I plan to destroy all your holes," he promised.

"My asshole too?" I questioned, shocked to think I was offering my ass to this massive, ass tearing cock.

"Not today," he laughed at my eagerness. "The whole school would hear your screams as I ripped it apart."

"Rain check then?" I asked, sliding my tongue seductively up his cock, gazing into his commanding brown eyes.

"Get sucking, Mrs. W," he instructed, as he looked down at me and the look of awe on my face.

"Yes, sir," I nodded, opening my mouth and leaning forward.

"Oh yeah," he moaned, as I began sucking down the most delicious piece of chocolate I'd ever had.

I sucked for a couple of minutes, bobbing eagerly, trying to take more and more of his big prick into my mouth with each forward bob.

He encouraged, "Don't worry, Mrs. W, taking all ten inches takes some time."

"That's a challenge I accept," I smiled, knowing I was still a good two inches from deep throating the entire majestic cock. I was already swallowing three or four inches of him into my esophagus.

He stood up, pulled me up, pulled off my costume in one smooth move, lifted me up as if I were weightless and plonked me on the desk, climbed on the desk himself and slid his chocolate stick between my big tits.

"Fuck are these impressive," he said, checking out my tits. Then he cupped them to squeeze his cock between them... something my husband never did as he wasn't really a tit guy. It was cool to watch his black cock sliding between my white tits.

"So is this your cock," I said, trying to lick his cock head when he thrusted up.

"Wait till it's in your cunt," he promised, the idea instantly turning me on.

"My cunt is primed and ready whenever you want it," I responded, dying to feel his massive stick in my cunt.

"No time like the present," he said as he got off the desk, helped me off and led me to my desk.

I bent over, loving taking it from behind and purred, my need for cock cum growing as the clock ticked, "Come blacken me, stud."

Report Story

bysilkstockingslover© 33 comments/ 328462 views/ 67 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

7 Pages:12345

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: