The life of a teacher slave

Mrs. Winters sat behind her desk, typing up a disciplinary report about today's fight in the cafeteria. Two boys had apparently gotten heated after one insulted the others' mother, and fists were thrown. As the vice principal at Westmont High School, it was her job to file these reports and dole out discipline, and after seven long years she had gotten quite good at it.

The blonde Mrs. Winters started out as an English teacher at Westmont and excelled, so much so that the district decided to promote her to vice principal when she was 33—which is impressive, considering she had her first child at age 18 and took two years off before college. Mrs. Winters' appeal to students had always been one of a, "Pull yourself up by the bootstraps" appeal. She'd gone through the thick of it, she'd made all the mistakes these high schoolers will make, and here she is.

Now, at 40, she was humming right along. She married to an engineer, had another kid—oldest now 22, youngest 18—and worked to be the best at everything she could. She was extremely fit for her age and boxed for workouts, another blue collar appeal, and implemented an extremely rigid schedule. Her blonde hair now lay shoulder length, curling towards the ends, a sharp chin and pronounced cheekbones gave her an angular and mean face, only punctuated by her bright blue eyes. The workouts kept her body in a perfect hourglass figure, too. Her ass was round and bouncy, her C-cup tits barely sagged after two children. Her waist was tight and her abs were pronounced.

For a 40 year old, she was hot. And she knew it, the looks on every boy's face who sat in the chair across from her confirmed it. Even when she was doling out suspensions and expulsions, their eyes continuously drooped down to her chest. When she walked the hall in a skirt, every boy—and some girls—would watch her hips sway.

So it was no surprise that when she interrogated the two boys who fought in the cafeteria today, neither of them were really focused on what she was saying. Oh well, both received two day suspensions. And she wrote as much in her report.

When Mrs. Winters finished the report, she checked the clock—perfect timing. It was 3:30, half an hour after the school day ends. Packing up her stuff into her brief case, she tidied the desk and closed the blinds before pulling out a phone.

It wasn't her main phone, she didn't even buy it, but these days it was the one she used the most. Unlocking it she opened up her text messages with the only contact in it: Master.

Underneath a profile picture of a 7-inch cock, there read a stream of messages, the last of which read, "At 3:30, you will be naked, handcuffed and gagged on your knees, facing the door." Complying with the order, Mrs. Winters neatly folded her clothes and placed them into her work backpack. Then, opening up the locked drawer in her desk, she pulled out the handcuffs and gag from a drawer, sifting through whips, lube, rope, dildos, clamps and much more. Now, kneeled in front of the unlocked door, her pussy dripping and the feeling of the buttplug pushing against her ass, Mrs. Winters waited for her Master to come into the room.

After what felt like an hour, she finally saw the door open and her Master come into view. The 18 year old, Michael, took two steps before slapping the slut. And then again.

"Stand up slut and turn around for inspection," he said.

Mrs. Winters did as she was bid, not a second thought in her mind. After passing inspection, Michael directed her to bend over, hands on the desk. His cock was out as soon as she was in position and without so much as a warning, it was speared inside her, all 7 inches. Mrs. Winters moaned through her gag as he brutally used her, not a thought in his mind about the 40 year old principal.

After a couple of minutes of the brutal fucking, Michael pulled out and told her to grab the whip from the desk. Obliging, Mrs. Winters handed it to her Master before laying her back on the desk, legs spread in the air, ready to take his cock again. This time, while Michael fucked her, he whipped her pierced tits, leaving red streaks all across her chest. It wasn't long until he came to orgasm, pulling out to spread his seed all over his territory.

"Don't clean up and put your clothes back on slut," Michael commanded.

Nodding, Mrs. Winters moved around, wincing slightly from the burning sensation on her tits, and started putting her skirt and blouse back on. She hadn't worn panties or a bra to school for five years, since her first Master had taken ownership over her. Still, she left and returned to the house every day with her bra on in an attempt to keep her family in the dark about her second life.

Fully dressed, with her white blouse sticking to her chest from the cum, she stood in front of her Master with the gag in her mouth.

"Tonight you'll meet me at our usual rendezvous point at 8:30, slut." Michael said, putting his own pants back on. "From there, we'll go add to your artwork. Today you're getting a tongue piercing to go along with your nipples and clit. Come fully dressed in your uniform."

Mrs. Winters nodded, her mind going to how she was going to convince her husband she wanted to get a tongue piercing. The nipples and clit were hidden, and Greg (her husband) loved them anyways—they seemed to increase her sex drive—but a tongue was a whole new problem.

"Great. Walk out of here and drive home with the gag in, I want photo proof. When you get home, you're allowed to take the plug out to use the restroom. Like always, though, you have to send proof of it with it in your mouth during the whole thing. Understood?"

Mrs. Winters nodded again and Michael left her office. Moving back toward her desk, she logged back onto the computer and continued to do some other work, her mind drifting through the busy work, worried about how she would convince her husband that she wanted tongue piercings.

The nipple piercings were easy, and she'd gotten them a long time ago. Two weeks after she first submitted, actually. Almost five years to the day.

***

Her first Master was John, a high school senior who was a constant visitor in her office all throughout his four years of high school. Mrs. Winters and John knew each other well, and grew a kind of respect for each other over the four years he was in high school, but every time they met would end poorly for John.

John was a smart student, Mrs. Winters knew, he just never applied himself. And his last two years of high school he spent half the day off at the technical school, working with computers. That's where the trouble started for Mrs. Winters. He bugged her work computer, and her personal one, getting onto their systems and tracking everything she did. At first, there wasn't much to report.

And then one night, he hit a jackpot. She was emailing another man, with a hidden email, and she was his "slave." She did almost anything he asked her to, sending him all kinds of lewd and compromising photos. John downloaded all of them.

When he first confronted her it was a rocky situation. Two strong-willed people fought for dominance, but by the end Mrs. Winters was on her knees, sucking John's dick.

Rapidly, the situation evolved. Until Mrs. Winters' submissive nature overpowered her will as a vice principal. To mark the occasion, when she finally allowed him to use her ass, John ordered her to get nipple piercings. Two loops, perfect for a chain to go through.

When Mrs. Winters told her husband about them that night, he was overjoyed. He'd secretly always wanted her to have them.

What he didn't know, though, was that after the nipple piercings she was never quite the same. She didn't think of herself as a vice principal, a wife or a mother. She though of herself as a slave. To be used as an object only for cocks.

***

As Mrs. Winters finished up her busy work, she smiled remembering getting her nipples pierced. Relinquishing control gave her the most pure sensation, and in the last five years she's been happier than ever before.

Packing up her stuff, she locked the door to her drawer containing all of her sex toys. Now 5:30, no one was left in the office. It didn't matter anyways, the secretary already knew about her alter ego and had met a deal with every one of her Masters to use her whenever she wanted. Yesterday, for example, Mrs. Winters ate her out for half an hour while being degraded for the slut she is. Sometimes Mrs. Winters is even sad when her secretary chooses not to use her, but today wasn't one of those days. She had to get back home.

On the drive back she got plenty of odd looks back at her and her gagged mouth, none of which she responded to. Rolling back into her driveway she knew she'd be alone. Her husband was working late, again. Her oldest son is off at college and the youngest is at basketball practice. Strolling in with the gag still in her mouth, she set her bag down on the counter and went to the bathroom.

Snapping a picture of the dirty buttplug in her mouth and sending it to her Master, she relieved herself. She then made dinner, preparing it for her two boys who would be home any second.

Dinner went off without a hitch, Mrs. Winters only having to excuse herself once to send a nude photo to her Master. After doing all the dishes, she broached the topic of a tongue piercing with her husband.

"It's just something I've always wanted. Think about how cute it is and how much fun it could be," saying the last part with a little wink.

"Yeah, but how does the school feel about it?" Greg answered, concerned for her job.

"To hell with the school, where are they going to get another vice principal as qualified as me?" Mrs. Winters responded, and that was the end of the conversation. Tonight, she was going to get her tongue pierced.

Sitting down and watching TV, she kept a careful eye on the clock, her mind drifting to all the possibilities a tongue piercing will offer. Sure, it'll make oral more fun, but thanks to her second Master, she was already very skilled in oral.

***

He was a monster, her second Master. His 10 inch cock throttled her day after day, leading to a quick learning curve.

For Mrs. Winters, he was a godsend. As the year before counted down, she was worried her days of servitude were numbered. Then her first Master offered a proposal, which she readily agreed to: He would find another Master, someone to carry on the tradition.

There was nothing Mrs. Winters wanted more than that, and when her second Master came forward with his monster cock, she was hornier than ever. At first, like all Masters, it took him a little while to learn the ropes and how far to push her. But when he learned she had no boundaries, the possibilities turned out to be endless.

One night, when Mrs. Winters had a free house while the rest of her family was on a trip for her son's basketball team, her second Master came over and used her all night long, starting right in the entrance way, front door still open.

It was a miracle no one saw her naked, sucking an 18 year old's massive cock as he ordered her around, but she survived for five minutes before he sent her to the bedroom and tied her spread eagle across the bed.

For eight months before then, Mrs. Winters had worn a butt plug every day, slowly getting larger and larger. But when her second Master thrust into her asshole, she still screamed from the pain, he was that big.

Him on top of her, pounding away, Mrs. Winters had her first of many orgasms that night, her mind losing control as she shook up and down her body, moaning loud enough that even if the neighbors hadn't seen her display, they heard it.

The second Master came for the first time that night after fifteen minutes of fucking her asshole, filling it up with his seed.

As he recovered, he spent the next few minutes whipping his slave's body, having her count out, "One Master, may I have another... Two Master, may I have another." By the time he was done with her, her tits were growing welts, a couple drops of blood leaking through.

To clean her off, he directed her toward the shower, telling her to kneel on the tiles. This was his first big leap, and Mrs. Winters' first experience with the subject of a golden shower. He sprayed his urine across her face, having her drink up however much landed in her mouth.

After her initial repulsion, she grew to like it, leaning into the humiliation and ownership of it, turning her on even more.

That night, she orgasmed five times. He orgasmed twice, peeing on her for three more times.

It was in the fall and the rest of the year she became his urinal, even at school. That was how her secretary had learned of her servitude, walking into an office with her on her knees, swallowing the urine from the 18 year old student standing above her.

Since then, only three of her Masters have had watersports kinks, but each of them have had a unique effect on her.

The first was all about ownership and servitude, her being his completely and totally. The second, watersports. The third, exhibitionism—they fucked in parks, in hallways, at concerts, anywhere. The fourth, anal gaping. By the end of the year, she could fit the wide part of a wine bottle up her ass. The fifth left his markings all over her, which meant it was no surprise he wanted to have her tongue pierced. For Mrs. Winters, it was only time until he tattooed her in some way.

***

Truth be told, Mrs. Winters was proud to be a complete and utter slave. Proud to be passed along like a locker, one high school senior to the next. Proud to have fit a wine bottle up her ass, proud to have fucked on the floor of a Drake concert, surrounded by people. Proud to be able to swallow piss, no matter how much. Proud to have lectured two teenage girls on the importance of safe sex while smelling like urine, having been pissed on two hours prior.

She was a slave, and nothing was off limits.

So when the clock struck 8:15, she made her excuses and headed out to the rendezvous point with her Master, a little parking lot outside of a park she'd been fucked in a hundred times before. When she pulled up, she put on her uniform: no clothes, a collar that read "school slave" and a chain that looped through all her piercings, connecting with the collar.

After only a couple minutes, her Master's car rolled in next to hers and she got out, climbing into his passenger seat.

"Hello slut, I hope you had a nice evening." Michael said.

"Yes Master," Mrs. Winters said, her head tilted downward, avoiding eye contact.

"I've given it some though, and I've decided tonight you will also be getting a tattoo."

Mrs. Winters' heart began pounding, she hadn't talked to her husband about this, but at the same time her pussy was getting more and more wet at the thought of permanently being marked a slave, "Yes Master." Was all she said.

"Suck my cock on the drive over."

Following orders, he was full mast by the time they rolled into the tattoo and piercing parlor. Michael got out of the car first, walking over to open the door for his slave. Taking her by the chain, he led her naked into the tattoo parlor.

"Hey Mrs. Winters, long time no see!" Shouted the receptionist as she walked in, all she could do was smile in response.

"How long's the wait?" Michael asked.

"About 30 minutes until he's done with the first client," the receptionist said.

"Then you have 30 minutes to do whatever you want with her," Michael responded.

Taking Mrs. Winters behind the desk, the receptionist pushed her face down onto his average-sized cock. She didn't even gag as he face-fucked her for a few minutes, almost blowing his load a couple of times.

"Turn around slave, show me that ass," the receptionist ordered, and Mrs. Winters obliged as he slid into her warm cunt, admiring the bejeweled butt plug.

He slowly fucked her for the next twenty five minutes, timing it nearly perfectly to cum into her as the previous client walked out of the room, admiring his new forearm tattoo. Hidden from sight, the client looked around, wondering where the moans were coming as Mrs. Winters felt the hot seed explode into her.

Turning around, she cleaned off his cock while the client paid and left.

Getting up, her hair a mess, she moved back to the waiting area as the tattoo artist prepped the workstation for her. When finished, he started his work, first with the tongue piercing—another ring—and then some sort of QR code on her right forearm.

When he was finished, he also fucked her, cumming inside of her.

"You see, when you scan the QR code slave, an interesting website comes up that one of our dear friends made," Michael said, showing the slave his phone after scanning. "If you look here, John made a website for you. It has all the photos you've ever sent, all the videos we've ever taken. It has who you are, what you are, where you are on it. It describes every part of your being, the slave that you are. Now, if anyone ever feels like scanning it, they'll know you're a slave and that if they ask you'll fuck them."

Mrs. Winters took this in stride, her pussy growing more and more wet as he spoke. She was now only a click away from being discovered by literally anyone.

"Yes Master, this slave thanks you for marking your territory," was all she could muster as the idea of complete servitude washed over her.

Michael smiled, taking her by her leash and putting her back into his car. As they rode back, his cock in her mouth, Mrs. Winters's imagination ran wild, her hand slowly reaching towards her clit as she thought of the two students she disciplined today asking about her tattoo.

She would show it to them, let them scan it, her naked and bound body showing up along with the words, "Free use slave." The two of them, shocked, as she slowly undressed and showed her naked body, "Now this is our secret, we don't want the administration to find out, do we?"

Then the pair of them, their young, hard cocks, skewering her—one in the ass, one in her mouth.

Now there would be no secret, it wouldn't be just her Master and secretary using her, the whole school would know. She would be their playground, to use as they wish.

Just as she reached that conclusion, her Master came, exploding into her mouth. She lapped it up, cleaning off his cock before gasping, "Please Master may this slave cum," and returning to servicing the cock.

"Yes."

Her hands playing with her clit, she came hard, the thought of hundreds of 18 year old cocks spurring her on.