Teachers' Pet

Teacher's Pet.

Squirrels learn best in groups.

ONE

The massage lasted a little more than an hour. Elle's muscles between her shoulder blades and middle of her back were always agonizingly tense, but this week they had been particularly bad. This time of the semester she usually spent most of her time reading through papers or hunched over a laptop entering grades. Spring Break for students had started a few days earlier, but she wasn't going to have much time to herself this year with the new teaching load and time spent interviewing candidates for a vacant faculty position.

"Thank you, Ryan" she said as the massage therapist began cleaning up. Ryan was one of the better technicians she used for massage relief, but he really outdid himself with this particular session. She felt more relaxed than she had in weeks.

Ryan was wiping the cocoa butter from his hands, "You're welcome. I'll step out and let you get dressed. Open the door when you're ready for me to break down the massage table." Ryan left the bedroom where the massage was performed and Elle slid off the table and made her way to the bathroom vanity.

She stopped as she passed the first basin and stared slowly up and down the image in the mirror. She really was an exquisite beauty although she didn't often stop to consider her feminine gifts. Her silken, blond-streaked hair was up in a bun to keep the long locks from falling into the residual cocoa oil on her neck, and as she gazed in the mirror, Elle traced the contours of her face with her fingers down the length of her neck to the side of each breast. The tactile sensation of her fingers moving down her full breasts caused her nipples to swell, each yearning to be nibbled on while firm hands cupped each in turn. She continued to trace down her torso, along the hour-glass curves until her hands pressed gently on her mons and inner thighs, sending a gentle tremor through her relaxed body.

Just then, Ryan knocked on the bedroom door and asked if there would be anything else this afternoon. Elle wrapped herself in her black, silk robe and made her way out to the living room. She let him collect his belongings and handed the therapist vash for today's work. As she walked him out, he offered to send her the list of songs he had played during this afternoon's session, a collection of alternative coffee-house jazz and South American instrumentals.

"I always offer the list of songs so you can listen by yourself when you're trying to relax. By playing the same music each time I work on you, hopefully, you'll become conditioned to associate the music with the therapy, speeding the release of endorphins the next time we're together," he explained.

"Conditioned to release endorphins," she commented as he turned to walk down the drive, "that's exactly what I need."

TWO

The hour with Ryan had been unexpected. She had come home from a hike in the nine-hundred-acre greenspace adjoining her neighborhood a few hours earlier to find an envelope taped to the front door of her house. Inside the envelope was a letter with no distinguishing marks and only a few brief sentences, the first of which telling her to prepare herself because Ryan would be there at three o'clock.

She was already feeling less tense after the hike in the woods, which included a couple of hours laying on a soft sheet under a canopy of trees, smoking a joint and reading the latest Patricia Cornwell novel. But, the thought of a professional massage was a welcomed development, especially since she was going to have such little time to herself this week.

The remaining directions in the envelope were also very clear and concise. Prepare for her regular massage therapist to spend an hour working on her sore muscles, enjoy the massage, fix a gin and tonic, and then open the gift-wrapped box that had mysteriously appeared on her bed while she had been in the woods.

It had taken all of her willpower to leave the box alone while waiting for Ryan to arrive, but she had followed directions and left it sealed. Now that the time had come, she sat on the bed and eagerly pulled the ribbon from each end to release the bow and gain access to the contents inside the package.

Another envelope awaited her inside the gift box. Like the first, it contained a single sheet of stationery directing her to dress for a formal evening out on the town from only the contents in this parcel, and to be ready for a car that would pick her up at seven o'clock that evening.

The tailored, black cocktail dress was shockingly short and sleeveless, a design that she would never had chosen for herself, but she felt compelled to at least try it on to see how it looked. Before doing so, however, she glanced through the rest of the contents to find a pair of black, stiletto heels with small silver amulets on each ankle strap. There was also a sheer, lace bra with a rigid underpinning that she could tell would prominently display her ample chest to whomever she encountered this evening, and, finally, a thin piece of cloth that resembled a wisp of a G-string and black, thigh-length stockings.

She showered off the remaining salve from Ryan's massage and dried her hair while scanning over the contents from the package lying on the bed before her. She hesitated to wonder where this evening was heading, and slowly sipped from her cocktail while caressing the sultry outfit. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Draping the dress over her head, Elle let it drift down her body. The fabric was soft, yet clung perfectly to her figure once it found its way to just below the cheeks of her ass. The top of the dress had a piece of cloth that extended from between her shoulder blades to around her neck, forming a choker of a sort that was bound together by a silver ring in the front. The effect left her cleavage fully exposed and accented by the stiffening nipples caused by the image she caught once again staring back at her from the bathroom mirror.

She ran her hands across her breasts, feeling the hard stars beneath the cloth and made her way to her hem. She stared deeply into her own eyes as her fingers found their way beneath the dress and inside the singular string of her panties. Her wetness was already noticeable outside her lips, and it took little effort to find the growing bulb of her clitoris straining against the tiny portion of undergarment guarding her entrance. She started slowly rolling her finger against the sides of her clit, while her free hand supported her weight against the bathroom counter.

As the frequency of her strokes increased, she started craving for the sensation of penetration. She looked around and could not find anything immediately suitable. She opened the bathroom drawers within reach to see if there was anything that would suffice, at least for a few desperate seconds of internal massage. As her climax began to grow, she clasped onto a thick-handled hairbrush and started sliding it between her parting flesh. Her fluids were flowing so freely that the brush's handle quickly slipped all the way inside her pussy before she realized what had happened. She continued to thrust the substitute phallus inside her while her fingers furiously punished her clit.

Just as she was about to reach orgasm, her cell phone rang. The ring tone let her know it was her husband, Belle, whose nickname was confirmed by the phone's display. She struggled to stop pleasuring herself long enough to answer the phone.

"Hello," she moaned breathlessly.

"You need to stop what you're doing," came the reply. "Don't you know only bad girls do those things to themselves?"

Elle was finding it extremely hard to concentrate on the call while every nerve was begging for her to continue the self-abuse. The only thing that made her slow down was the sudden realization that somehow, Belle was watching and knew what she was doing. This sudden awareness actually startled her and she looked out of the bathroom door toward the bedroom windows which appeared to be shrouded from prying eyes by the closed blinds.

"Where are you?" she asked.

His voice betrayed his pleasure, "I'm close by, and I will be all night. Just like this moment, you may not see me but I will be able to see everything going on and can hear every sound. This is important because this is the last time you will be able to communicate directly to me for the rest of the evening. Do you understand?"

"I think so," she spoke into the receiver as she took the hairbrush from beneath her dress and started washing it off. "What's going to happen to me?"

"I think you have some idea. For now, suffice to say you will receive a great deal of pleasure, but only when allowed. You cannot touch yourself again until told you can do so. To do otherwise will bring severe punishment. What kind of punishment I don't even know, because I have relinquished all control over the matter and others will decide your fate."

Elle shuddered. 'Relinquished all control...' 'severe punishment...' 'a great deal of pleasure.' These words echoed in her mind as Belle continued his explanation.

"All you need to know is that you're safe, and free to do whatever you're required, by..." Belle's voice trailed off.

"By whom?" Elle begged.

At that moment, the front doorbell rang and Belle's call ended.

THREE

The driver took Elle by the arm and escorted her to the Jaguar sedan. The car was dark silver with cream-colored interior and darkly tinted windows. She knew no one would be able to see inside the vehicle in traffic, so if she was in distress, she would be unable to signal for help. Even with this feeling of apprehension, she continued to walk to the open door of the car as the driver guided her towards the back seat.

After the driver sat behind the wheel, the automatic locks were engaged with a sound that startled Elle. Her tension was growing and she began to mentally question why she had consented to go with this stranger. In an obvious case of approach-avoidance, the questioning and fear gave way to the excitement she felt in her stomach and the growing yearning between her legs.

She tried on more than one occasion to speak to the driver who failed to respond. After her last attempt, she remained silent as the car drove not toward town, but north toward the rural parts of the state. This understanding caused the fear to start rising again, and just as she was starting to reach for her phone to call the whole thing off, the car slowed and turned into a lighted driveway leading to a large house she could see in the distance.

The closer they came to the house, the more Elle realized that this was a small mansion. Contemporary in design, but looking as though it had been around for many years, the front of the house was lined with a circular driveway where at least a half a dozen high-end sports cars and luxury sedans were parked, with a collection of drivers standing in a group to the side of an classic Austin Martin.

The car came to a stop immediately alongside the steps that led to the front door. Two large men dressed in dark suits stood on either side of the entrance, each with an earpiece in one ear that made it clear they were connected to some centralized security system.

The driver opened the door and said nothing as Elle took her cue and stepped from the car. One of the two doormen stepped forward and spoke.

"You are to leave your purse and cell phone with me. We will secure your belongings and return them when you choose to leave. But, no outside communication devices are allowed inside the house. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered softly. She was terrified as she handed her purse and phone over to the guard. Every instinct in her body told her not to do so, but the urge to find out what was next was too great. She trembled as the guard escorted her through the front door and closed it behind her.

The foyer was spacious with wood floors and fifteen-foot ceilings. Two saltwater aquariums lined the entire side of each wall of the foyer, a length of which must have been twenty feet, and reached halfway to the ceiling on each side. The design of each tank was amazing with a private collection of reefs and marine life that Elle would have thought could not be found anywhere other than a major theme park.

The doors closed behind her and locked. She spun around to check the doors, but could not find an obvious way to get out. She turned back toward the end of the foyer where a staircase appeared to be the only way out of the underwater entrance. As she approached the stairs, she noticed a small table to one side with a familiar looking envelope sitting alone on the surface. It had but one word on it...'Elle.'

FOUR

In what was becoming a familiar pattern, Elle found a single piece of paper inside the envelope instructing her on next steps. According to the letter, she was to climb to the top of the stairs and follow the hallway to its very end. There, she would find a double set of doors. She would find a formal library behind these doors. Once entering, she would see three books lying on a table in the middle of the room. She would select one of the books and open the front cover. There would be a Roman numeral I, II, or III, on the title page. Across from the table would be three doors, with corresponding Roman numerals. She would carry the book through the door with the corresponding number and await further instruction.

Elle shuddered at the enormity of the situation. She still had not seen a single person in the house since being locked in by the guards, yet she felt as though a hundred eyes were watching her every step. And how could Belle have found this place? And where was he? She hadn't seen his car outside and there was no sign of him anywhere. Against every urge to run she slowly climbed each step, turned toward the double doors and walked into the library.

And this truly was a library. Every wall was lined with books from the ground to the top of what must have been thirty-foot ceilings. Rolling ladders were scattered along the sides, and in the middle of the room sat what looked like to be a librarian's desk with three extremely old looking books on the surface.

Elle reached for the first book to see if there were any distinguishing marks on the outside to give a clue to what it held inside its faded cover. Seeing no marks, she opened it to the title page and saw a Roman Numeral II. She flipped past the title page and found page after page of ancient paper blank...not a single word in the hundreds of pages other than the initial mark. She looked at the other two books and found the same.

Across from the table were the three doors as described in the letter. They all looked identical except for the different Roman numeral above each, but nothing that would distinguish one from the next. Elle looked down at the books on the desk once again, closed her eyes and grabbed one in her hand. She opened the cover to the title page and said out loud, "Three."

FIVE

The door to Room III closed behind her, and a chill ran down her spin as the now familiar sound of a lock engaging could be heard inside the doorframe. She didn't even bother to check to see if she could leave, not because she had given up, but because she was so enthralled with what she saw.

The room was huge, at least seventy-five by fifty feet in length and width. In the very center was an elevated platform with four, three-step staircases climbing up from north, south, east and west. In the middle of the raised platform was a round bed about two-feet high, and fifteen feet in diameter. The bed and platform had an Asian design to them, and at four points around the bed stood floor-to-ceiling columns with large metal rings at their base and another set of rings at approximately seven feet of height.

Heading out from the platform in the north, east, and west directions were different collections of props and structures for different purposes. To the north, stood a wooden X, about eight-feet tall with binding straps on each arm and leg. A wooden table sat to the right of the X, with a collection of whips, paddles, electric wands, clamps, safety pins, and any number of tools and supplies to coax screams from the hardiest slave.

The east side of the room held a collection photography and video equipment, as well as a series of interchangeable support cushions, some shaped as blocks, others as wedges, that would allow the cushions to be formed into a wide range of platforms to which a victim could be bound and filmed for display in private...or on the Internet.

Finally, to the west, stood a metal cage approximately four feet in height, and six by six feet in length and width. And, around each side of the cage was a table with dildos, vibrators, anal toys, and other objects that could be used as a phallus.

Elle walked further into the room, and slowly went from stage to stage exploring the props and designs of each. As she made her way past the large wooden X, she turned back towards the main door she entered from the library and startled with what she saw next.

Standing immediately inside the room were two men in well-tailored, business suits holding a cocktail in one hand, and a leash in the other that led to a nude woman behind each respective "teacher," as they would come to be referred to during this evening.

Teacher Number 1 was the taller of the two. A little over six feet, he wasn't overly muscular, but had a nice physique. He had slightly peppered hair and held a striking resemblance to George Clooney, which was highlighted by the cut of his Armani suit and DG shoes. Teacher Number 2 was just less than six feet, with striking blue eyes and streaked blond hair, not very dissimilar to Elle's. He didn't wear his suit as well, but made up for it with a rough jaw line and commanding voice.

Teacher Number 2 started, "A bit overwhelming I would expect? No need to reply just yet, we will explain the situation you're in and then you will be given a chance to speak." Number 2 handed the leash of his "student" over to Number 1 who pulled the brunette slowly to his own student's side and looked at them knowingly. As if on cue, the two women leaned into each other and passionately kissed, their hands fondling the other's exposed breasts while doing so.

Teacher Number 2 walked toward Elle, who was standing on the south end of the raised center platform. Elle could feel herself trembling as he approached. "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this" she repeated in her mind as Teacher Number 2 walked behind her and stood within inches.

Again he spoke, "You've been given to us by your husband, Belle, for this one night so we can 'teach' you. It's not that you're naïve or inexperienced, but there are some things which only we can train you in, expertise that Belle does not have and for which he believes you crave."

With that, Teacher Number 2 moved even closer behind Elle. She could feel the heat from his body and smell the cologne and musk from his clothes as he all but pressed against her back.

"Don't I have a choice in any of this?" Elle asked as her heart rate continued to climb with Number 2's approach. She wasn't actually sure whether she wanted a choice. There was something freeing about completely surrendering, a sense that she was a desired object to be explored by the ravishing hands of a more experienced lover. She started to respond, but Teacher Number 2 cut her off abruptly.

"You've made your choice when you put on that dress, when you stepped into this house, when you selected this room. You could have stopped at anytime, but you kept going forward even as your rational mind screamed for you to stop. You have made your choices which now include lowering all pretenses and submitting to your instructions. Do you understand and consent to learning?"