Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 05

It was happening.

I began by untucking her shirt. It was wedged in there good and tight. That provided a glimpse of her lower belly, as smooth and flat as Candy's. Except it was Taylor Stern's. With a hand on her chest, I shoved her back down into her seat so I could untie and remove her shoes and socks. Abbie stepped back to let me work. Nice of her. As for Taylor, ditching footwear was necessary, true, but tackling that first was mostly done to give me a moment to ponder whether I wanted to go after the top or the bottoms first. Those tits of hers had been shoved in my face for years, at times almost literally when she took the opportunity to loom. Her ass, though... ever since her first dose, watching her bend over to write her lessons on the whiteboard, it had haunted me.

With two handfuls of buttocks, I pulled her back to her feet, but I remained kneeling.

Her pussy was mere inches from my face. I could feel the heat emanating from it. Was I imagining things, or was it hotter than the rest of her? Well duh, obviously the girl's pussy was hotter than... oh, never mind. I hooked a finger in both of the hip pockets. It would have been easy to pull them down all at once, but why rush? Whatever happened in the time to come, I would never be able to undress Taylor Stern for the first time again. I didn't even untie the drawstring, giving it maximum resistance.

It was high time to wear down that resistance.

Left side down an inch.

Right side down an inch.

Left side.

Right side.

Left...

"Whoa." I looked back to where Abbie was sitting. The girl looked pretty pleased with herself at the look on my face, and she had every right to be. I was finally getting a glimpse of what Taylor had on under those pink sweats. I'd wondered if it would be a classic teen slut uniform complete with the fluorescent thong, or perhaps nothing at all. All those times her panties or thong straps showed above her pants, the times she wore those white leggings and brightly color panties beneath, the skirts that found ways to divulge their secrets. I'd been beside myself with anticipation of which one my eyes would meet.

Instead... Leather. It was leather.

Once I'd gotten a glimpse, my incrementalism was forgotten. Those things went right down to her knees, showing me the painfully tight black leather boy cut shorts Taylor's sister had picked out for her. They were so tight they cut into her skin. The cleft between her labia was visible, even. Right there in front of me. There was no stopping it now. I nestled my face into that heavenly space between her thighs.

Suspicion confirmed: it was indeed hotter than the rest of her. The smell of her... god. I couldn't wait to taste it. Except I could, because I wasn't done unwrapping my apple yet.

I didn't tarry long before I spun her around. It was equally tight in the back, cutting a horizontal line across her butt cheeks that caused the lower portion to pooch out like an upside down muffin top. Perhaps inspired subconsciously by that very thought, I helped myself to a bite. I took that revealed flesh and sunk my teeth in and just chewed for a moment. Somewhere in there the sweatpants came off the rest of the way, but my whole world was that tender, rubbery buttock. What my hands were doing was their business; my mouth was busy chewing on Taylor Stern's ass.

She said nothing.

Eventually I remembered there was more to her than an ass and a pussy. But first, I crooked a finger to Abbie, beckoning her. She took my meaning, slipping to her knees and crawling across the room to me. The bitch knew exactly what I'd wanted her for, too, because as she reached me she climbed up my body like a snake until we were chest to chest, and I locked my mouth on hers instantly. No gum this time, just a slippery teen tongue and the fervent desire to use it.

"Good girl."

She grinned. "You ain't seen nothing yet, Mr. C. Go on. Ogle that body. She's a sex object. Tits and ass." Until that moment, I couldn't recall with clarity what exactly had been said to make Abbie this way, but hearing her echo her sister's words did the trick. Taylor Stern's penchant for sass had indeed, as I had long predicted, proven her undoing.

Abbie graciously helped me to my feet, but remained kneeling beside me. The girl's thighs spread so she could press the whole center of her body against me, from her pussy against my ankle to my tits draped around my thigh. But my attention was back on Taylor. Standing face to face was a handy reminder that she had a face at all. Presently, it was glowering like I'd accused her of cheating.

"Well? Get on with it. Need me to lift my arms for ya, or can you handle it?"

No sir, I hadn't come this far to let her start calling the shots, even if it was the thing I'd been about to do anyway. No. She wanted me to play on her terms, or if she couldn't have those, then to sap what enjoyment she could by denying me my control of the situation. Taylor was still Taylor. So instead, I grasped her ass in both hands and pulled her slowly but firmly against me. "Did you bring any of that chapstick you love so much?"

The question took her by surprise. "Um, yeah? It's in my pocket. The pants." She pointed. I gestured, and Abbie helpfully fetched and delivered it. Which one of us was more into watching Taylor brought down a few pegs?

"Different color," I observed, examining it behind her head.

"Yeah, something about the last one being poisoned or something." She flashed a sardonic grin.

I took my time, casually unscrewing the cap with my arms still wrapped around her back. Took a sniff. Sweet, fruity. Berry, maybe? Taylor waited, chest heaving with each breath. At last, I brought the body of it near her lips. "Tell me you want it."

Her eyes narrowed. This close, those resentful orbs were my window to the world. "I want it."

I slapped her ass, open-palmed, with my free hand. She yelped in surprise and pain. "Like you really want it. Like you did in my classroom."

Her jaw was trembling. In outrage, anticipation, dread... who could say. Maybe lust, even if she'd never give me the pleasure of admitting it. "It's mine. Give it to me. You can't take my stuff for no reason."

"Say please."

My forehead leaned against hers. Our noses touched. I wanted to feel her breath on my lips when she gave in. The girl made me wait for it, though. Hand to god, this was better than any sex I'd ever had. When I got around to fucking her, I had no doubt it would be incredible. That face, that body, her power and her energy... it would be great. But here, watching her hold out as long as she could, knowing there was no way out but to give me what I wanted, unwilling to yield but left with no alternative... I was watching her spirit break. I only hoped it was resilient enough that it could handle breaking a little more.

A whisper. "Please."

I gave her what she wanted. I smeared on a layer across each lip, first upper, then lower. The berry fragrance filled my nostrils along with the barest hint of my student's breath. By reflex, she puckered her lips in and out to apply it evenly. I gave her a little extra help with my thumb.

"Food for thought, Ms. Stern. If you'd been so accommodating when it was first confiscated, you'd have never been put in this position.You'd be at home cyber-bullying the fat girls and getting high with your idiot friends. Instead you had to pick a fight with me. And it looks as though you lost."

"Fuck y--"

I kissed her. Not in the celebratory way I had Abbie. I simply extended my lips, and hers were close enough they made contact. She didn't kiss back. Good. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, wet and tender and berry. Then as my tongue slowly invaded her mouth, she had little choice but to kiss back, or stand there like a statue and be explored. Either was fine with me, but she evidently preferred the less awkward path of submission. Taylor's head tilted to the side and her jaw slid open for easier commingling of our tongues. My hands slid up her back and came to rest behind her head, fingers twining into Taylor's thick wavy tresses to hold her face to mine. I made out with that beautiful, evil face until we ran out of air.

Then I kissed her some more.

Was she reciprocating because she liked it? Because she'd been compelled to? Because she'd rather play along than submit to being the victim? Who the fuck cared. By now my hands had run out of patience for my lips, and they were easing that shirt up of their own accords as they'd done earlier with the sweatpants. There was something under that outer layer, I felt, but I couldn't tell what. It was on her stomach, so no mere bra. Taylor's shirt flew across the room, knocking over a pile of junk mail and coasters on the coffee table, and I knew I had to look. Despite my desire to remain attached to those lips, those lips which had devoted so much time and energy to pissing me the fuck off all this time, I needed to see Taylor. The new Taylor.

My Taylor.

It was a corset. Taylor Stern was wearing a corset. For me.

There was a thin strip of tanned flesh between it and the black leather shorts. The corset looked like leather at a glance, but whatever the imitation material was made of was crimson red. The bodice was decorated with stitched patterns of the same color. Taylor was slender already, but it pinched in her waist all the more, which only helped to showcase her breasts in a way nothing ever had before. Upwards, outwards, lifting and thrusting and squeezing and bulging... her tits were a work of art. Literally, I think. They were spectacular.

"Abbie... I am going to fuck that slutty pussy of yours harder than anyone ever has or will again," I promised, marveling at the sight before me. That she was back to scowling only sweetened it. I was seeing the real Taylor, the bitch, the vixen, the tease and the thug all at once. Seeing how much she hated being seen that way was icing on the cake. Or on the apple, as it were. My bright red apple.

Abbie purred at my promise. "You better. I'd almost forgot she had the corset, actually."

"You already owned this Taylor? What the heck for?"

She tugged at the garment here and there, adjusting it into place. Better still. "I do a little cosplaying at cons sometimes. You can make insane money off these dorks just to pose and smile. Corset set me back two hundred bucks, but I raked in close to six grand off it so far this year."

"Look at that initiative, Taylor. I'm proud of you." Her smile at my praise only rendered my punchline all the sweeter. "Already completing an internship in the prostitutional arts -- good career planning for a girl who'd rather flunk out with glossy lips than graduate without."

"Eat me, Mr. Canon."

"I will. But I think I'll let you go first."

Abbie was running out of patience, though. "Yeah, so can we skip this stupid thing with Ms. Salata, or wha..."

I saw my colleague's apt entrance at the same time the girls did. "Jesus Christ, Candace..."

Really, she'd earned the moniker of Candy now more than ever, but I reached for the more familiar term of address by reflex. The outfit itself was actually quite simple. Black stockings ending mid-thigh, held up by suspenders. A black mini skirt with pin stripes that, not unlike Abbie's, couldn't be covering more than an inch or two below her pussy, with the same margin above her ass. Where did one get such an outfit? With her slight build and the tightness of the skirt, it was like she'd found it at a rummage sale for pre-teen skanks.

Then there was the top, which... didn't exist. There was a black jacket, buttoned once near the belly button, and beneath that, nothing. Skin. Cleavage. Nakedness. Miles of it. The only decoration above the neck was a fairly plain gold necklace with a tiny blue stone that dangled between her breasts, its luster making sure we all took a look in case we'd forgotten to.

Oh, and her earrings matched. That was a nice touch.

"Is this OK?" she asked, giving us a spin. The skirt was so tight it outlined each ass cheek separately. Damn.

"Sorry, but why does a teacher even own something that slutty?" queried Abbie, evidently oblivious to the irony of asking such a question while kneeling subserviently at another teacher's feet.

"It was something I had for a sorority party senior year. CEO's and Secretary Hoes, it was called. I didn't choose the theme. I used to have this see-through top that went with it, but I think something got spilled on it and I threw it out. Guess I didn't figure I'd have any further need to dress like a slutty parody of professionalism in my career. Shows what I know."

God, I wanted to fuck her. Bend her over, tug those panties aside, and dive in. She'd let me too. Say it was educational, or some such nonsense. I didn't care. She wasn't going to make trouble for me, so if I wanted to do it, I could do it. Same with Abbie, my fawning fantasy slut. And Taylor, the sex object who'd let me do whatever I wanted thanks to her little sister's intervention. I looked back to leatherclad Taylor, then down to schoolgirl plaything Abbie, and back to slutty instructor Candy, round and round.

"Mr. Canon?" prompted Candy at last. "I believe you said there was a plan...?"

I blinked. "I did, didn't I." I mean, why not? After this long of a wait, may as well enjoy myself as thoroughly as possible. It was a sobering thought, that once I actually took it out and put it to use, this thing would be over all too soon. Today was for savoring.

"Very well, ladies. Let's start the lesson."