Teacher's Pet Ch. 04

She walked directly to the BDSM aisle and returned my tease, placing her fingers on several objects to set me thinking about how they could be used--nipple clips, a cat-o-nine tails, a horse crop and a simple rectangular leather paddle for starters. Then she intentionally waited for another customer to come browsing through the section before looking him in the eye and selecting a pair of fur-lined handcuffs to drop into the basket. The guy's mouth opened like a fish out of water, then he stabilized, and looked at me in jealous admiration.

My mind's eye saw Landrie kneeling nude in front of me, her hands secured behind her back, my hands in her hair and my cock in her mouth, then of holding her hands behind her while I took her doggy style, forcing her backside into me as I lit her up. My cock swelled rapidly at the thought.

"When we come home tonight, you want me to take charge of you, to chain your arms together and do what I want with you. You want to see how I'll handle it. But most of all you want to lose control again, just like when you submitted to that first guy at school, and to see what it's like with me?" I asked.

"Who said they were for me?" she replied, giggling. I must have looked shell-shocked because Landrie burst out laughing. "Yes!" she said, "I would like to see if you can be the first true benevolent dictator in all of history, at least in the bedroom."

"I'm willing to be a trailblazer," I responded, but Landrie huffed in derision.

I took my time with the next selection, and we walked about the store, but returned to the BDSM aisle. I squared her up, butt against the shelf, then reached over her shoulder and grabbed a black leather dog collar with an accompanying heavy chrome leash and dragged it across her shoulder as I put it in the basket. She shivered visibly.

"Doubling down, I see," Landrie said quietly, and leaned into me, pressing her left leg against my cock. "I like the feel of this idea very much. Can I wear it on our date?" she asked looking it over. "Oh goody, it has a Velcro tab that covers the ring so you can just use it as an accessory. This might be the first time the Kansas City Philharmonic has had an attendee wear a dog collar to a Vivaldi concert."

"Careful!" I said, "You'll be telling every man at the restaurant and the concert that you're my possession," I warned.

"It would take a brave girl to do that, wouldn't it?" she prodded gamely.

"Yes, it would, "and, a man prepared to defend his property against all comers," I added.

"Well, thank goodness I have such a man. Okay, my turn!" she said excitedly. She sauntered out of the BDSM aisle to the vibrator/lube section, and picked up a large bottle of anal lubricant, dropping it into the basket. My dick was once again cast iron.

"You remember our very last encounter in the shower," I whispered. "You've been aching for a return engagement for four months. I talked about bending you over the couch and working the truth out of you, and this is how you'd like to do it."

Landrie smiled and said, "don't be so arrogant, I've really only been waiting a month."

"Let me ask you something," I queried. "Did you happen to pack that big rubber item you used on yourself when we had our call in November?"

"A girl scout is always prepared," she teased.

"Then I won't buy a duplicate," I responded. We were right next to the nipple clamps. I let my hand hover over a simple set of rubber-tipped adjustable clamps, but Landrie nodded "no." Thinking that she didn't want to go that route I withdrew my hand and began moving away, only to have Landrie pull me back. She lifted my hand and carefully placed it on a display of alligator clamps—nipple clips with teeth that bite into the flesh.

I looked her in the eye challengingly, but she nodded "yes." I grabbed the package and placed the wicked looking things in the basket. I swear to God I was going to get off just by chaffing the fabric of my pants on my cock. I drew her near me and kissed her hard. She reached down with her free hand and gripped my cock, squeezing it and running her hand up and down the shaft in full view of three male patrons.

We exchanged one more pick apiece, both along the same direction as the first few, then checked out. The clerk looked like he would go through the roof. There stood before him a vision, a woman he could never land in a million years, telling him by her selections that she was about to become my willing sex slave—something he could never have. His fingers fumbled with each item and his lips trembled as he gave us our total and finished checkout. I knew what he'd be doing ten minutes after he got home that evening.

As the door to the shop closed behind us and we emerged onto the street, a favorite song of my dad's came to mind that he played to tease my mom: I've got a tiger by the tail its plain to see. I won't be much when she gets through with me. Well, I'm losing weight and turning mighty pale, cause I've got me a tiger by the tail.

Part Five: The Rites of Spring

Landrie yelled "tub time!" and made a dash for the bathroom as soon as we reached our room. Thankfully, we still had a couple of hours before our reservation, so plenty of time to play.

We drew a huge hot bath and filled the tub to the brim with bubbles and broke out the weed. We shared enough to get well loosened, but not enough to come unhinged.

"That was a test, wasn't it?" I asked Landrie, taking my last draw on the pipe.

"What?" she responded.

"When you asked if I wanted to see a movie with you in the adult theatre. You wanted to see how far I'd let you go with other men, didn't you?" I asked.

"Of course!" she said lightly.

"I guess I'm looking to understand what might be expected of me. Do you really want me to let you have unlimited access to other men like we would have in the theatre?" I don't think I could do that. Wait, that isn't right. I know I could not do that. Basically, I'm a traditionalist. I want us to own one another, exclusively. I know it's early, and that we haven't made nearly any of the decisions we'll make about sex, but if you had to guess right now, what would you say you want with me?" I asked.

She crawled across the big tub, landing her entire body between my legs and along the front of my torso.

"If you're wondering whether I've turned into some kind of incorrigible slut who has to do the football team every other week to be happy, the answer is 'no.' I think I've established that over the last month, and believe me, I've had lots of opportunities. I legitimately wanted you to be in control of that situation so I could see what you like, what you might want from me."

I was ashamed that I hadn't viewed it that way. It was entirely like Landrie to be doing the giving instead of the taking.

"We'd better quit," Landrie said sternly, taking her last hit, "or we won't be able to finish the conversation or make it to the restaurant," meaning none of it.

"No, this is part of the plan. I'm pretty wound up by all of this. I want to get away from the immediate question we've put to ourselves, get the munchies, eat a sumptuous feast, then, like a king of Persia, return to my harem and delight in the wiles of my finest wife" I said airily.

Landrie laughed, "well, in weed veritas! I didn't know joining a harem was a condition of the deal, but I am happy to hear that I am your finest. You're full of surprises."

She drew near and we kissed again, and it turned into several kisses, a submarine journey beneath the deep seas to connect my mouth with Landrie's twat and a panicked pull of my hair to draw me up out of the water and away from her.

"It's a quarter of 6:00!" she lamented. "I've got work to do to get my hair dried, get makeup on and get dressed. She stood to leave but I grabbed her just below the knees.

"One bite. Just one," I said and dipped my face between her legs and onto her clit. She pushed her pussy against my inquiring tongue, then withdrew abruptly. "That's enough of that! Harem girl needs get ready right now."

As with most men, it took me about seven minutes to dry, comb my hair, brush my teeth and put on my clothes, while Landrie took all her allotted time and a little more finishing. The restaurant was gracious in moving the reservation.

"Stay with me!" she had shouted over the din of her hair dryer, "and give me some more of that weed." I obliged, breaking our self-imposed rule of trying to retain control of our reason. We made a game of it, me taking in several drags of the weed and kissing it into her as she did her hair, then taking up position on the settee connected to the second sink in the bathroom so that I could watch her.

I fell in love with her all over again just watching her get ready. She'd twirl a big round brush through her hair, pulling it out to give the drier access to it and fluff it, and glance at me through the mirror, her arms extended above her, drawing her breasts up at out and preening as I unflinchingly ogled her. I drank in the way her bottom belled against her chair, the strong "V" of her back and its taut muscles, the way her nipples danced under the motion of her arms.

"Help me?" she asked, bringing the bags from the entryway.

"Sure," I responded, and soon we'd strapped up her hose and garters and put on the tiny little cocktail dress, snapping the sash in the back and pinning the top of the garter just below the dip in the back.

She did her makeup as I rested on the bed, and when she emerged from the bathroom a vision. The makeup was lightly but exquisitely applied with a dark green eye shadow to match her eyes and the shade of the dress. A silver hair comb put strategically into the right side of her "doo" kept her heavy locks out of her eyes. In the unlikely event we met any of the men who had seen her in the porn theatre earlier that day, they would not have recognized her.

"Will this do?" she asked coquettishly, knowing the answer in advance.

"You're just shopping for a compliment, but since you deserve it, I am very glad to tell you that you are the loveliest, most fetching, winsome, sexy, devilish-looking date any man could ever have. There is, however, one part of your ensemble that you've left out," I said.

I grabbed the little pink vibe from the nightstand and said, "come here." She did.

"Bend over and put your hands on the nightstand," I instructed.

"My, aren't we controlling tonight?" she quipped.

"In every sense of the word!" I joked and delivered a little push at the top of her back and pulled up her skirt.

Her perfect muscular ass was perfectly presented, framed quite eloquently by the black garter, thong and hose.

"You need a little lubrication to put it in properly," I said, and pulled the thong aside.

I licked her ass gently, then deeply, thrusting my tongue into her to clear the way for the much thicker vibe, then gathered the real lubricant off the tabletop and spread it into her delicately, my fingers entering her and expanding the room for the little monster, before inserting the vibe."

"A little test run, I think?" I asked and she nodded yes. "Tyler, it makes my knees weak just to put it in," she crooned quietly.

I switched the little bugger on, and the effect was beyond anything I'd anticipated. Even at the lowest setting, the vibes emanating from her behind shocked Landrie, and she thrust her ass back violently towards me in response to them.

"I guess that's a thumbs up," I said.

"Oh, this is really good!" she murmured, but it's so...pink. Do you think anyone can see it?"

"Not unless you spread your legs, but then you'd have to choose to do that yourself. Would you like to pick out a guy and show him what a little harlot you choose to be at times? Would you like that Landrie?" I asked.

"Spank me, Tyler. Please, spank me while we let it run a bit," she implored. I didn't need to be asked twice. I turned up the power, flattened my hand, and brought it down solidly across her perfect right cheek, then her left, then her right, back and forth until both orbs were red and agitated and my girl was writhing like a snake.

"We're out of time," I interrupted, knowing that she was seconds from a fulfilling orgasm.

"You're a prick," she said and laughed.

On the walk over she began, "If you use that thing long enough, I'm going to go off in the middle of a crowded restaurant in the exact same way I did in bed a few hours ago, loudly, violently, and wetly," she said. "So... I'm just telling you, be careful what you ask for, because you just might get it."

"Come harem girl, your audience awaits" I responded grandly with an expansive wave of my hand.

Dinner was an exquisite game. The food was fresh, delicious and perfectly prepared. Landrie got all the attention her little heart desired from the maître D, the waitstaff, and even the chef who made a point of visiting our table. I had called ahead and reserved a table in the corner which held a commanding view of the restaurant and the big dance floor in the middle. When we sat, no fewer than five men forgot that they had dates or wives and began sneaking glances or just overtly staring at Landrie until their significant others pulled their chains.

Just you wait! I thought.

I thought it unfair to Landrie to simply depress the button and send her into paroxysms of orgasmic passion in front of strangers. So, we did the next best thing, playing a game called "pop quiz." I pulled trivia from United States history out of my deep bag of tricks, giving her a buzz of ten, thirty, or sixty seconds based on the gravity of the missed answer.

Unfortunately, Landrie's memory was so good that she wasn't missing enough answers, so I had very few opportunities to buzz her. Recognizing her plight, Landrie began missing questions intentionally. At first, the little vibes merely shook her, however, after several misses into the game her hand reached out to my arm and gripped it. On one particularly bad miss, the long vibrations sent her off. She arched her back and stared at the ceiling, fully aware that men across the restaurant had tuned in to her performance, then reached for my cock under the pure white linen tablecloth to grip it violently, whether to activate it or use it for leverage uncertain.

Three of the men who had originally scoped out Landrie had left, having finished their meals. But two, an older man in his 60s and an aggressive-looking thirty-something bounded by two pieces of arm candy, continued to steal glances at my girl. Soon the older man left with a deferential nod to our table, leaving only the young barbarian and his dames.

"Ohhhh, shittt!" Landrie purred into my right ear. "Don't put me on the edge again Tyler, I'm not going to be able to stop if you do. I really, honestly, don't want to lose control in front of that guy. Besides, there might be folks here who know my mom and dad.

I turned the vibrator up in response.

"Rotten bastard!" Landrie complained.

The waiter delivered a note which he advised had been written by the young gangster, letting us know as well that the "gentleman" across the way ran the largest chain of high-end strip joints in the Midwest and would like to meet "us." He had no interest in "us," but lots of interest in Landrie. That explained the arm candy. I opened the note and showed it to Landrie.

It read: "She's spectacular! Home for Christmas, I'll bet. She puts on a good show. I'll guarantee $5,000 a night, plus all the tips she can handle—usually 2-5 K more depending on how hard she works. Five nights, half up front, half at the end."

"So, you think he wants you to dance for his customers?" I asked, handing her the note and leaving the vibrator purring in Landrie's ass.

"Not that one. He wants me to dance on him," she replied tartly. "Look at that face, he's a user. That's how he got to be where he is. Arrogant, entitled, probably never worked a day in his life in a real job."

"So harsh!" I joked, "and all from a mere glance. For the record, I agree with you. So, write your response," I urged, flattening the paper before her and equipping her with a pen.

"Screw off," she wrote, and handed it to our waiter on the next go round. The young brute read the note and laughed, nodding his head deferentially, but with a reptilian smile that said he'd eventually get what he wanted.

"Do you ever tire of having men snap to attention whenever you show up?" I asked.

"No, and if you don't stop that little bugger a whole much of them are going to snap to attention because I'm going to be screaming my head off."

We continued the game more gently for several minutes, off and on. I ran the little vibe a bit more than I should have during her slow consumption of the restaurant's famous "New York Style" cherry-cheesecake, but it made the trembling fork in Landrie's right hand an incredibly erotic experience all on its own.

"We have to go now," Landrie purred finally. "We need to go right now! I mean right now or I'm going off like a roman candle.

"We have a show to attend, as you'll recall," I responded.

Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" was perfect for what I had in mind. The work is a group of four violin concertos, one for each season. Each movement is right about ten to twelve minutes in length and together with the brief intermission, the whole thing didn't last much more than an hour. Halfway through each movement I gave Landrie some movement of her own, until she gripped her purse, and then my arm. By the time we reached Winter, Landrie was dripping so freely that I could smell her, and when we stood for the obligatory standing ovation, Landrie gripped the back of the seat in front of her to conceal the orgasm shaking her apart from the core.

"You're mean as a snake," Landrie poked as we took the escalator out of the theatre.

It was a wonderful carefree moment until a voice upended our world.

"Landrie? Tyler? Landrie Souther? Is that you? Tyler?"

Of all the teachers we could possibly have met over our evening, Ethel Williams was by far the worst. She and Julius had been in the Perry school system their whole lives. Julius had just retired after running the machine shop and teaching woodworking, and Ethel still ran the home economics department. I loved Julius, and hated Ethel, as did most, because she was an unrepentant and mean-spirited gossip whose vindictiveness and pettiness were the stuff of legend.

"Ethel, Julius," I began warily.

"Are you two here...together?" Ethel asked unnecessarily, seeing as how we were locked together at the elbow. Her eyes scanned Landrie from head to toe, landing on the dog collar, judgments spinning forth like rays of wrath.

"Yes, we are," I responded more brightly than I felt. "Landrie is just home from Stanford, and I thought she'd enjoy the concert.

"Well of course!" Ethel said with falsely cloying sweetness, "who wouldn't? And my oh my, what a dress!"

"Tyler bought it for me. He surprised me with the concert, and I didn't have anything suitable when I got off the plane," Landrie said tersely, her spider-sense tingling.

"Suitable?" Ethel said nodding her head from side to side challengingly. "Well, it certainly is...special," she added, making her condemnation complete.

"Let's go Eth," Julius said, fully aware of his wife's character. "I don't have much interest in being on the ass end of traffic coming out of the garage. Tyler," he finished curtly, giving me a nod and pulling his wife by the elbow.

I overheard him preaching to his wife as the two walked away "you will leave those two alone! Give me the damned phone! At least give them a head start before you start blabbing."

"Well, that's that," I said. "We're going public, and very soon. That last bit by Julius was for my benefit. He said it loud enough to give me fair warning. As soon as she can pry the phone out of his hands, she'll light up the satellites calling her buds. I wouldn't be surprised if your folks knew about us before they went to bed tonight. You should consider calling them to get ahead of it. It will be better if they hear it from you."