A Bad Girl Ch. 04

She'd never heard of the clitoris—that is, she knew the word but wasn't certain what it really meant. I explained it to her, playing with my own, slipping the hood back so that she could see it, standing only inches from her flickering tongue and with my insides aching for orgasm. Inside me, muscles were tensing, clenching, and a small sun was building in my belly. As she put the last clothespin on, her face changed as the pain hit her, and I started to cum.

"Oh, my slave, my beauty, you little. . .bitch!" I gasped. She was crying now "I'm so glad you can obey me. . ." then I lost the power of speech as the shockwaves washed over me.

Only a minute or so later she gasped and asked for permission to cum. I told her she could cum after she removed the clothespins, and I watched more tears, this time tears of passion as well as pain, spring down her cheeks. I was rearranging my skirt when she cried out loudly and climaxed.

I didn't let up on her—I wanted to cuddle her, hold her tight. But I couldn't, so I made her kneel up with her chin on the desk.

"You'll wear that butt plug whenever we're alone together. I'll get bigger ones. You know, Susan, I'm really going to be very cruel to you. Even once I'm able to touch you I'll probably only fuck your ass. You might remain a virgin for a very very long time."

"I don't care Miss. . .Mistress. I'm so yours."

My pussy was wet again. I let her watch while I masturbated a second time, but told her she wasn't allowed to touch herself. I held my sticky fingers under her nose, let her sniff my scent.

"One day, slave, you'll taste this with your tongue. But first you have to pass your courses. Did you bring your book bag?"

"Yes Miss F." she stood up.

"I didn't tell you to get off the floor, slut. You're my slave, and until I release you you'll be mine in private. So when I asked if you brought your book bag, the correct response was 'Yes Mistress'".

"Yes, Mistress. I-I brought my book bag." She knelt again. I had her crawl to the corner, her buttocks wiggling invitingly, and fetch the bag, carrying it by the strap in her mouth.

"Good. Get out your history books. You are going to write your essay now."

She pouted.

"If you disobey me in future, a little display like that will cost you two dozen painful swats with the strap. But if you're going to disobey right now, just get out!"

She lowered her eyes, and I was physically struck by her beauty. Then she got out her books, opened them, and under my watchful gaze, began to write.

I stood and watched the kneeling, naked girl in triumph. It had taken a while, but I'd pulled it off. I knew that under my eye, she would apply herself. And if she applied herself, she'd graduate. And then—

But I pushed that thought out of my mind.