Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 13

The head of the dildo eased in. Angela felt it tightly gripped by the woman's vagina. She hesitated then pushed hard. Watching it disappear into the woman's body was fascinating. She wondered if she too had a screwed up sex face like this slaves. The slave was obviously close to an orgasm, so she would have to stop it.

She took her hand away leaving the dildo in place. It was a surprise to hear the slave speak.

"Please, mistress, let Cindy cum," the desperate voice whispered.

"What do you want your mistress do to you, slave," Angela asked. She tried to keep a controlled voice, as her father would, though a touch of pleasure shone through.

"Please mistress, fuck your slave. Let your slave cum, mistress," Hollie pleaded. The big object was deep inside nudging her cervix, and it felt as though it was stretching her. She wanted it working her vagina hard. All she could do was flex the inner muscles around the stationery monster.

Angela decided not to give in to the slave. It needed teaching that it wouldn't get its own way, as it had with Roger. A young guy with a teacher, how could he have resisted the beautiful woman? They would have been fucking at every opportunity.

"Did your master fuck you in school?" Angela asked.

"Yes mistress," Hollie wailed. The memory of her master taking her pushed her closer to the edge.

"Where in school did he fuck Cindy slave?" Angela persisted.

"Master fucked Cindy In the first aid room," Hollie panted.

"Fuck!" Angela laughed. "You are a dirty fucking little slut, you know that?" Angela laughed.

"Yes mistress! Cindy is a dirty fuck slut, mistress. Please mistress, let Cindy slave cum, please," Hollie whined.

Angela bent the long flexible dildo almost in two, causing her slave to whimper. The other end she pushed at her asshole. At first Hollie tried to clamp it shut, but Angela noticed it still gaped open. Hollie struggled in her chains, rattling them, unable to move. The rope attached to the cuffs held, however hard she pulled on it.

"Shit! You're a three holed fuck doll!" Angela exclaimed. How had this responsible woman degraded herself so badly? Roger didn't have the experience to subjugate her so completely. The damn woman was a natural submissive, and a very dirty one.

Angela firmly pushed it in, overcoming the initial resistance. The pain held the slave back from an orgasm, though the woman was obviously becoming stoked up on pain.

'No! Not that, not my virgin bottom!' Hollie wailed, though the words were incoherent.

She tried desperately to cum, by thinking of her master taking her for the first time. An image bent over the sofa in their cottage flashed in her mind. It was their private little safe world, where anything was possible. No one would scorn them or judge them there. The scornful face of that girl swam into vision, despite her eyes being clamped shut. It killed the orgasm, bringing her back into that yearning state she was so familiar with.

The large dildo moved and she yelped in surprise.

"You're a three holed fuck doll, Cindy slave. What are you?" Angela sweetly asked.

"I'm a three holed fuck doll, mistress," Hollie gasped, unable to even control her breathing. She was lost to the need of sex.

"You're a nasty slut Cindy sex doll," Angela sneered.

"I'm a nasty slut Cindy sex doll," Hollie repeated.

All her senses were highly tuned to this young girl controlling her body. She was dependent upon every movement of the dildo. Every utterance was vital, for she was reduced to caring about only one thing, an orgasm.

Hollie felt it pulled from deep within her body. She was panting with shallow gasps. Both her vagina and bottom were being stimulated by the large object pulling back. It travelled a long way, slowly rippling inner muscles. She braced herself for the inward thrust into both her holes.

"No! Please mistress," Hollie screamed. The sucking sound of it leaving her wet hole was rude and evil sounding. She felt the dildo leave her body. She felt empty and cheated. More than ever she needed that special feeling of being full of cock.

"I need to cum, mistress, please! Let your slave cum!" Hollie wailed, with a quavering voice. Hollie was shaking with emotion, fearing she would be left in a needful agony, by this vindictive creature.

A loud thwack to her ass brought her round, but didn't quell the need.

"Not lecturing in a classroom now, are you slave girl! You're my slave girl now! Got it, Cindy?" Angela demanded an answer.

"Yes mistress! Cindy is your slave girl," Hollie whimpered.

Angela pinched her nipples, trying to get her attention. She stood up to untie the rope, and let her legs down to rest on the carpet. She slapped the woman's face making the slave open its eyes, to wake it up from whatever fantasy it was in. She wanted the woman to face where she was, and what was happening. She massaged the slave's legs, wanting it to stand for she had plans.

"Up you get. Here let me guide you. You're a little wobbly sex doll," Angela chortled.

"I'm going to get something for you to wear. Sit on the edge of the bed before you fall. Good slave girl, Cindy," Angela firmly stated.

"Thank you mistress," Hollie automatically responded.

She was still breathing heavily from the ordeal. It was difficult to know if it would have been better to be humiliated with a climax in front of this girl, or feel relief from the need. The incessant throb in her sex was still there, demanding satisfaction. She pressed her thighs together, feeling the piercing loops rub her clit.

"Will you cum like that?" Angela asked.

"Cindy slave won't cum mistress," Hollie quickly said. She had carefully avoided saying 'no' to her mistress.

"Then you can continue, just so long as you don't cum," Angela said, and continued to forage in the walk-in closet.

Hollie suppressed a cry of pain. Being ordered not to cum by a young girl was degrading. It was humiliating to be given permission to rub her thighs together, to stimulate her sex. Damn! She was thinking of her as a mistress. She was a grown woman, a teacher, yet this girl had taken her over.

"Put this on, now, jump to it Cindy!" Angela demanded.

Hollie still wore the chains, which wouldn't be covered up, but at least her body would be. The short plaid skirt and white blouse was part of a school uniform.

Angela stood back to admire her slave girl. She liked the idea of turning a teacher into a schoolgirl. It was a means of taking away her power, leaving her weak and vulnerable. In that condition she was dependent on her mistress, which was exactly what Angela wanted.

"That used to be my uniform, when I started high school. I've grown out of it, as you can see, but it fits you well, little slave girl," Angela smiled. "The chains spoil the little innocent girl effect. Get it off, quickly!" Angela admonished her.

"Try this. It's not a slave costume but it will do. I won't forget you running like a frightened deer, naked among your students. That was so funny watching all those guys offering to buy you're cunt. They didn't offer much. They thought you were a cheap whore from town. How much did they offer you, Cindy slave?" Angela asked.

Hollie just looked down at her feet, unable to answer the cruel question.

"What's the matter, Cindy doll? Do you need your string pulled before you can speak," Angela sniggered.

"If only they had known. I'm sure they would have offered a lot more to fuck a teacher," Angela chuckled, rubbing her slave's nose in the mire.

"Just think, Cindy slave, all those young cocks taking turns to use your body. All those cocks filling you're cunt up with hot spunk. Calm down Cindy, your mistress told you not to cum, naughty slut," Angela crossly said, and slapped her bare ass..

Angela noticed Hollie flinch each time she used the word cunt. "Don't you like that naughty word, cunt? It's what a slave's hole is called, so get used to it," Angela harshly told her slave,

Another blouse and skirt was found to be satisfactory to her mistress. Hollie felt a little better being covered up, even though she hadn't been given any underwear.

"Thank you mistress," Hollie demurely said. She didn't give it a thought that her clothes had been chosen for her. After being so long with Roger she was used to it.

"Some jewellery will brighten you up," Angela said, while fiddling with the large hoop earrings. "There you are, take a look at those," she smiled.

Hollie looked in a mirror and noisily sucked in her breath. The skirt was too short, and the blouse too low cut, as usual. The style was too young for her, leaving her looking like an adolescent slut, from the wrong side of town. What was so nasty was the cheap jewellery. The horrible things spelled out the word 'slut', and glittered brightly as they dangled under the slutty hoop earrings.

It confirmed for Hollie that this girl could humiliate her far more than Roger. She imagined being taken around a all dressed like this and bumping onto someone from school, such as a fellow teacher, or even the principal. They wouldn't recognise her dressed and made up so badly.

Her mistress would be sure to introduce her, just for the fun of it. What would she say to them? Going to a fancy dress party wouldn't work. Perhaps she might explain that she had been bought in a charity auction, so had to serve Angela as her slave. It didn't sound plausible or make her feel any better.

"Come on lets get something to eat, your mistress is starving. I need to keep my energy levels up, as I've got plans for my Cindy slave," Angela said, while cajoling her down the stairs to the kitchen.

Hollie was busy making a sandwich for her mistress. It at least kept her out of harms way, for a moment or two. The mundane task gave her a chance to think for a few minutes. The only thing she could think of was the girl had to sleep, which would give an opportunity to escape.

She was determined to try tonight, as a week here would be hell.

A clip clop of high heels echoed on the marble floored hallway, announcing a feminine someone's entrance. A tall elegant woman walked in. wearing an elegant silk designer dress. It was black, and figure hugging down to the hips, where if flared out. Not so practical on a windy day.

She emanated wealth and prestige, from her poise, together with the expensive designer clothes she wore. They didn't just hang on her fame. The dress was tailored for a perfect fit. She had an attractive hour glass figure, with an older woman's sophistication. Hollie admired her long shapely legs, wishing she were taller.

Hollie was impressed. She stopped with the tray of sandwiches, cookies, and milk, in mid-step. A flash of hope lit her mind, wondering if this powerful woman would help her escape. She was obviously Nathanial's wife, and held sway here in their home. As a diplomats wife she knew how to manipulate powerful people, and probably her husband as well, so Angela would stand little chance against her.

"It's late, where have you been, mother?" Angela asked. "Father was looking for you earlier," her voice changed from a fierce demanding sound, to a warm, almost girly tone.

"Oh dear! Is it that late? I hoped to get back before this. The evening meal will be late. Your father will be upset with me, especially as I promised to be back on time," Bridget huffed, hardly sounding bothered.

"Have you been playing with your little friend?" Bridget asked.

Hollie looked down at the floor, with a face colouring from embarrassment. The woman's daughter had certainly been playing with her. She would be ashamed to admit to the obscene act, as much as admitting to being a teacher. She was used to being dressed and behaving like an adolescent, so being mistaken for one was nothing new. It was easy to slip into the role.

"Would your little friend help out, do you think dear? We wouldn't need to tell him if everything is as it should be when he arrives," Bridget said, sounding exasperated.

"You should tell him anyway, even if we do get dinner ready on time. You mustn't get away with breaking a promise, mother," Angela scolded her.

Hollie was willing to give a hand, as it would keep her out of Angela's way. Helping to cover up for the mother would put her in the woman's good books. The woman was sure to help her out in return.

"Well dear, you could put things right, then your father wouldn't need to be upset when he gets home," Bridget suggested. "If you took responsibility, like he taught you, it would be helping us both out," she added.

"I don't know, keeping secrets from father isn't right," Angela stated.

Bridget looked at her daughter with a knowing look.

Hollie could see something was going on between them. Angela must be angling for an advantage. She wanted to volunteer to help, but dare not say a word. She needed Angela out of the way so she could talk to the mother. Looking up from the shy girl pose, she looked at the woman and recognised her.

This was the woman she met with Roger in the mall. She wanted to giggle from embarrassment. The butt plugs Roger used to stretch her asshole had been this woman's. It might be a useful piece of information when asking for help.

"Oh! Please dear, help out your mother, just this once," she sweetly said. She put on a saccharine expression, too comical to be sincere.

"Pretty please," she said, making a silly childish pose for her daughter, to match the expression.

"OK! No more silliness, please, I give in," Angela stated, with hands on her hips, looking annoyed. "You can fetch it and I'll help you out, so father doesn't have to be told. Besides, I've got a special request to make, and need him in a good mood" Angela said.

"Alright dear, here we are. I appreciate you taking the responsibility. Just keep my lateness from your father, you know how funny he is about punctuality," Bridget said.

The woman had brought something from a cupboard, which puzzled Hollie, wondering what the thing was. It looked like a big wooden spoon. It would need a large cooking pot to stir anything, and she wondered what was being prepared for dinner.

Bridget pulled up her dress and bent over the table, with legs spread as though being searched. Hollie looked on in amazement. The offhand way she had bent over took Hollie by surprise. She wasn't wearing panties, and hadn't left the room to take them off, so she must have been out shopping without them. Everything else was there, stockings, suspender belt, and high heels, but no panties.

The underwear set was black silk, matching the dress. It too was expensive, finished with delicate lace. The stockings clung to her legs, pulled tight by the four discreet straps. The stockings, straps, and garter belt framed her soft cheeks in a half circle. It looked as though her underwear was designed specifically for this pose.

Hollie watched Angela lift her arm back, seeing the inevitability of the action. The whack was swift and effective. The sound loudly cracked in the silent room. The mother's cheek reddened immediately. So it wasn't a cooking instrument, it was a paddle.

"One, thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget announced, in a flat tone.

Hollie stood watching with her mouth hanging open, with a look of disbelief. The usualness of the family scene had been shattered. Another whack struck harder, on the other cheek. The woman had a firm fleshy bottom, and the hard wooden paddle wobbled it this time. It must have hurt, but she didn't yelp, so must be used to a thrashing.

Hollie looked at her more closely. She was wearing a slave collar! Hollie fingered her collar, knowing they were the same. Damn! What the hell was going on in this house?

"Six, thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget recited, in a monotone, indicating it was a usual response.

"What is this?" Angela demanded, in an imperious tone of voice.

The spoon or paddle, scooped between the woman's lips. They were glistening and now the paddle was damp. Angela pushed it under her mother's nose. "What is this?" she demanded.

"Oh! Bother! Sorry Angela, I've been denied this past week, couldn't help it," her mother casually stated, expecting her daughter to understand.

"I don't expect my mother to get excited while I'm paddling her, its indecent," Angela ranted. "What were you thinking about?" she asked, trying to calm down.

"The waiter at lunch, he was rather dishy," Bridget admitted.

Whack! This time her mother squealed in pain. "Darling, please, not my pussy! Owww!" she again cried out.

"Wrong! You deserve to be severely punished, and anyway, it's not your pussy. What is it?" Angela demanded to know. She kept a hand on the woman's back holding her down.

"My masters cunt, mistress," Bridget said, with another yelp.

Hollie suspected she could escape but there were probably rules covering this situation. The woman was obviously a wife, and a slave. Her daughter was certainly no slave girl, so that made her a mistress. Oh! Shit! No wonder Angela had taken control of her so effectively.

"Owww! Please stop it hurts! Yes, mistress, slave girl deserves to be punished. Please mistress, your my daughter, you shouldn't be paddling your fathers cunt," Bridget whimpered, trying for sympathy.

"You're not counting!" Angela warned her mother.

"Owww! Nine. Thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget squealed.

Hollie was embarrassed for the woman. Revealing that her husband was her master should have been embarrassing for her. It should have been immensely humiliating, having to submit to her daughter, while being thrashed like a naughty little girl. Yet the woman had submitted without a qualm.

If that wasn't bad enough, Hollie had to witness the woman's degradation. She was certainly regretting letting her daughter punish her, for she was whimpering from pain. It seemed shocking and incongruous for the mother to be punished by her daughter. To think the woman had instigated it, to save her husband administering the punishment, left Hollie bemused.

"Owww! Ten, thank you mistress, for punishing slave," Bridget said, and heaved a sigh of relief that it was all over. She lay there a moment not daring to move. When she stood the dress slipped over her bare bottom, and even the soft silk made her wince.

When she took a step the woman tightly closed her eyes.

"Lift your dress," Angela said, sounding exasperated. She looked at her mother's pussy, and clicked her tongue dismissively.

"On you knees, Cindy. Settle back on the table, mother. You know what to do, slave. Then maybe we can get some work done around here," Angela complained.

Angela whacked Hollie on the ass, as she slowly crawled to the girl's mother. "Hurry up! Get her licked out. I want her to cum, and quickly," Angela shouted.

Hollie almost automatically thanked her mistress, but the prospect of sucking on a stranger's pussy was dreadful. In close up she could see how swollen the woman's lips were. They looked sore, as well as being puffy from arousal. The woman grabbed the back of Hollies head and pulled it into her crotch. The beginning of a complaint was muffled by the woman's large outer slippery lips, as though she had been gagged.

A familiar phrase rumbled through her head, 'sooner started, sooner completed, Or, something like that. Knowing her mistress was standing close, ready to punish her, she dived in. The woman reeked of excitement. Her fantasy must have been good, or the waiter must have been exceptional.

Hollie coughed, covering up a nervous giggle. She realised she had coughed up the woman's pussy, as her mouth was glued to her hole. She wondered about that, and blew into it, between sucking and licking. As much as she hated admitting it, Angela was right. She was becoming an expert pussy sucker.

Hollie was experimenting too. The woman didn't seem to notice what she was doing to her. If she got away with this she would try it on Angela. It would be just a small retribution, but she needed something, to keep a hold of her sanity.