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From: Don Winslow <dwin2001@Yahoo.com>
Subject: My Teacher, My Pet, Part 5
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From: "Don Winslow" dwin2001@Yahoo.com
Subject: {Winslow} "My Teacher, My Pet, Part 5" (m/F, D/s)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stotries; alt.sex.stories.moderated

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All fictional characters in this work are at least 18 years of age, or
21 if local officials wish them to be so.

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My Teacher, My Pet, Part 5
Don Winslow



In the weeks that followed, the young teacher realized that the boy
toy she had taken on, had quickly become her masterful lover. It
came to her with a shiver of pride, she was now his woman, no more
than a sex slave, to be kept and used as the young stud saw fit.

Keith was elated to have this mature woman all to himself. He bought
her a bracelet to wear, a chain of dull, matted silver. The links
were not the sort of delicate braid she might buy for herself, nor
were they ostentatiously large and chunky. But it was quite
definitely a metal chain, one with links that that once joined, snugly
encircled her slim wrist, a sometimes jarring note that could be seen
by everyone -- that chain peeking out just below the cuff of blouse or
jacket. He insisted that she wear his "gift" every day, without
fail. The linked bracelet would bring unspoken questions to the eyes
of the wondering teachers, but Melissa knew she had no choice in the
matter. It was, he told her, a reminder, blandly anonymous perhaps,
but they both knew what it meant. And it was not the only "reminder"
he left with her.
 
The first time he had her go to school without a brassiere, the young
woman spent the day feeling incredibly wanton, her feelings a mix of
shame, humiliation, wickedness, and sexual heat. She wondered if it
was obvious that her tingling breasts were loose, shifting freely,
under the thin blouse, especially when she taught class -- especially
in front of those sexually-preoccupied boys, whom she often caught
staring at her bosom. She could feel the burning in her cheeks. Did
they know? But surely, Keith wouldn't tell? It would be their
secret, he had told her. The feel of her nipples rubbing against the
slick silk excited her terribly, and sent a wave of randiness through her.

That day, more than any other, she dreaded the inevitable encounter
with her lover in the hallway, she knew he would be there. When he
showed up, he did no more than give her that respectful student's
smile of his, and said a few polite words of greeting. But when she
responded, and went to move on, he put out a hand to touch her arm,
lightly stopping her in place. His smile widened into a leering grin
as his eyes fell pointedly to her chest.

"How do you feel today, Ms Parker," he asked, in bland innocence, his
eyes boring in on her lightly-clad breasts.

Melissa, burning with embarrassment, lowered her eyes and rushed off.

  *****

Keith had so enjoyed the strip tease show his teacher did for him,
that he had her do a repeat performance, not once but several times,
always choosing outfits she wore to school, making her take off each
piece of clothing, slowly and deliberately to the surging rhythm of
the bump and grind. Melissa was curious to find her inhibitions were
being shed in the process. She could loose herself in the music,
stripping for her man, with all the confident moves of a professional
dancer, proud of her thin, undulating body, the provocative swing of
her taut breasts, thrilled to see his eyes light up each time she
dropped her drawers for him.
 
Sometimes he had her take off her outer clothes, but keep her
pantyhose on. He loved to run his hands over her nyloned legs,
savoring the delicious feel of those feminine curves encased in slick
smooth nylon. It got Melissa hot, incredibly hot, to have those warm
masculine hands moving lazily along her hunches, slowly caressing the
sleek contours of her languidly moving legs, till she was so excited
she couldn't stand it any more! He liked to have her parade around
the houses in just her high heels and pantyhose, making her walk back
and forth in front of him, swinging her hips with the easy sway of a
runway model -- a bare-breasted runaway model.
 
The little shows she put on for him always drove the healthy stud
crazy with lust, in no time he was tearing at those pantyhose, yanking
down the sticky nylon in his haste to get the clinging stockings off
of her. Much as he liked seeing her in pantyhose, he hated the
inconvenience. He asked her about stockings, the old-fashioned kind,
and when she admitted that some women still wore stockings, the kind
with wide bands of elastic at the tops, he ordered her to go right out
and buy dozen pair.
 
The following Saturday he had her model her new snugly banded
thigh-highs for him. Keith was delighted, he never tired of seeing
those pretty legs of hers sheathed in those long sheer stockings.

He continued the practice of having her greet him fully dressed in the
clothes she wore to school, had her strip for him till she was naked,
except for her stockings and heels. And that was how he kept her for
the rest of the day, and much of the following day too, for by now,
Keith was staying overnight, and the few rushed hours of passion on
Saturday afternoon, had turned into a prolonged sexual marathon that
left both lovers drained and exhausted when they made it to school on
Monday morning.

Melissa knew she was sinking deeper and deeper into an impossible
situation, at least part of her knew it. But she couldn't help
herself. The more the boy treated her like a whore, the more she
loved it! She needed him to force her to do things, dirty, unspeakable
things All week long thoughts of what he made her do on Saturday came
to her at the most unlikely moments when she was trying to teach. She
need only look down at the bracelet to be reminded. Once she let him
in and the back door was closed behind them, she felt an instant
surge of arousal. There was nothing too outrageous, nothing too sexy,
nothing she wouldn't do at his command. She was willing to grovel, to
debase herself in front of him, to kiss his bare feet, to crawl to him
on hands on knees, as he sometimes made her do, all of these things
and more as he wallowed in her status of a kept woman, nothing more
than a willing sex slave.

  *****

She was wearing nothing but shoes and stockings the day Keith stepped
out of the bathroom, to be greeted by the appealing sight of his
bare-assed teacher with her back to him, caught at the moment of
bending over to pick up a newspaper that lay scattered on the floor.

The invitation was irresistible. With one quick motion he stepped up
behind the bending woman, and swung a flattened hand up to deliver a
hard, stinging slap squarely across that temptingly presented butt.

"WHAP!"

"Ouch! What was that for?" The surprised girl jerked upright, ruefully
rubbing her bottom.

"What was that for, 'Sir'," he reminded her.

"What that for, Sir?" she repeated.

He left her standing there, ignoring the stocking-clad blonde, who
stood with one hand on her behind, as he sauntered over to the dinning
room, picked up a straight-backed chair, and brought it back to the
center of the room. He sat down in the wooden chair and smiled at
her, in that half-teasing, half-evil grin she recognized with the
accompanying delicious shiver that inevitably ran up her spine.

"I think you've been getting pretty careless lately, teacher," he
began, with just a hint of that slow tease he sometimes used with her.
"You forget to call me 'sir', even though I told you, and told you,
over and over again. And you know what else? I think you've been
getting just a little bit pushy lately. I think maybe it's time you
got put in your place, teacher. 'Cause see, what you don't
understand, is that I can do anything I want with that pretty little
ass. I own that ass of yours. Now bring it over here. It's time you
got taught a lesson."

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the older, mature
woman, her lean body clad incongruously in the sexy nylons and high
heeled shoes of a whore, and the young lad who owned her, sitting on
the wooden chair, the bulge in his jockey shorts clearly evident as he
spread his well-muscled thighs in obvious invitation.

The rush of erotic pleasure that swept through her caused her to gasp.
It was followed by a stab of keen anticipation in her groin, the
quivering knife of sexual excitement at what was to come, at the big
powerful hands of her masterful lover. She took the few steps that
brought her to his side, and stood looking down at him, taking in his
broad shoulders and the meaty slabs of his thick, furry chest, her big
brown eyes softened in total surrender. Keith grinned up at his pet
teacher, and said not a word, as he pointed meaningfully to his lap.

The long-legged blonde knew what to do. She submissively lowered
herself to take the mandated place, stretching her body out across her
student's naked thighs. She felt his hands on her hips, shifting her
weight till he was satisfied that he had his teacher in just the right
position, the classic spanking position, shoulders over one side,
inverted head dangling down, while those stockinged legs angled down
the other side till the pointed toes of her high heels dug into the
thick carpet. Her bare bottom was now nicely served up over his
right thigh. He couldn't help smiling at the enticing picture Melissa
presented, the extended lengths of her outstretched legs sheathed in
those long black hose, the bands of smooth white thigh-flesh that lay
exposed at the tops, and that lovely, lush bottom, all soft and naked
and vulnerable, just sitting there waiting for his attention. Keith
was going to enjoy this!

He slid his left hand down the smooth velvety slope of her bare back,
till he came to the shallow dip of her lower back, and there he let it
rest, pinning the long blonde firmly in place over his lap. He
contemplated the lush fullness of that mature womanly ass. It was not
the sort of tight-cheeked young bottom you found on high school girls.
No, Ms Melissa Parker had a substantial ass, one you could fill your
hands with. Her pair of shapely buttocks flowed into rich, full
undercurves that were deep and ripe with promise. Hers was an
irresistible ass, one he had seen naked many times by now, and still
marveled at -- especially when it was close at hand like this. Hers
was an ass just made for spanking!

He used the pads of his fingertips to trace the seductive upswelling
curve of that smooth white bottom, over the crest, and down the
bulging slope to travel along the undercrease to the place were the
rearcheeks met. Between the smiling undercuves, a tuft of silky blond
hair marked her peeping vulva. He poked his finger in there, between
her asscheeks and the girl on his lap jerked her shoulders upward, her
hips squirming in mounting excitement at the deliciously intimacy of
that impertinent probe.

By now young Keith was uncomfortably hot, flushed with sexual desire,
his body tingling with anticipation. His straining upright prick
pressed against a solid hip through the white cotton of his briefs, as
his cupped hand passed up and down the twin curves of his teacher's
bottomcheeks, relishing the satiny smoothness of those firm fleshy
mounds. He let his hand come to rest spanning the woman's ass. And
he let it lay there possessively, giving her bottom a light pat, while
he talked dirty to her.

"Ever had that big ol' ass of yours spanked, teacher? Well?!" he
grabbed one mound and squeezed to show his displeasure when an
immediate answer wasn't forthcoming from the inverted blond head.

The girl arched upward, wiggling, as he held her ass in an iron grip,
tightening his fingers.

"Ughh...no...Sir."

He smiled. "That's what I thought." The big hand that held her butt
relaxed.

"Well you're gonna get spanked now, real good. And you're going to
count 'em out for me. Don't forget to count teacher, or you're gonna
get twice as many," he warned.
 
With that he took a deep breath, raised his flattened hand, and swung,
bringing it down in a crisp decisive smack delivered smartly to that
oh, so vulnerable behind.
 
"SMACK!"

The glancing blow sent the jellied mounds wobbling as Melissa's blond
head shot up and her body arched into a tight bow.

"Yeeouch, One!" she yelped, twisting in his lap.

He spanked her again...and again, two hard slaps, right across the
quivering cheeks.

"SMACK!...SMACK!" 

"Yeeouch. Two!...oowl..Three!"

The next two were precise smacks, not hard, but each squarely falling
on those delightfully bouncy mounds, each getting a tiny yelp from the
poor girl as she squealed out the required number.

"SMACK!...SMACK!"

"Ouch..Four!...Owwwwel... Five!. Oh that hurts, Keith!" she shrieked,
writhing in his lap.

He held his hand.

"Keith?" he said, his voice detached, curious.

"I...I'm sorry...Sir!" she corrected herself, tensing up, instantly
aware of her mistake. He let her lay there and think about it,
holding his upraised hand, watching her butt clench anxiously. The
crack of her ass narrowed down to a dark slit, the sides of her cheeks
hallowing out as they tightened down in fearful anticipation of
further retribution. He waited, pausing till he saw her butt muscles
slacken.

Now, he paused to admire the results of his handiwork. His prick was
incredibly hard, and he felt an ever greater rush of excitement that
rose up to form a lump in his throat, a dryness in his mouth, as he
contemplated Melissa Parker's blushing ass, an intense throb of lust
powered through him. He couldn't resist spending a little time just
playing with that pink-tinged bottom. Impishly, he poked a pointed
finger deep between those cowering cheeks and watched her hips jerk in
startled reaction, her butt tighten instinctively at the rude
intrusion. Next, he laid a curved hand across his teacher's plump
bottom, relishing the silken smoothness of those warm, soft mounds.
He patted her ass lightly, affectionately. The cheeks slackened, then
clamped once again, at the teasing touch of the index finger he ran up
right her hidden valley.

He took his time. Shifting her with his widespread thighs. Then,
pressing down with the hand that held her on the lower back, he was
suddenly rocked by a strong desire to punish those choice, impertinent
rearmounds. He raised his hand and swung, hard, attacking with gusto,
delivering a hard spanking the woman wouldn't soon forget, slapping
the center of the rounded domes, the sweeping tops, the fleshy
bottoms, walloping her bounding ass in a furious rain that soon had
the young teacher squirming and yelping, kicking up her heels,
stockinged legs flying up behind her to scissor the air. He whomped
that squirming, agitated bottom in rapid succession, admiring the
dance of her bouncy rearcheeks under the rain of stinging smacks as
she wriggled her hips in fiery torment.

"SMACK!...SMACK!....SMACK!....SMACK!..SMACK!" 

It was only when his palm was stinging viciously, that Keith finally
stopped. In the sudden quiet of the room he heard his teacher
sniveling like a well-punished schoolgirl, her shoulders heaving as
she gasped between ragged gulps of air, while his own breathing slowly
evened out.

Flushed and panting, he sat with an achingly hard erection poking at
the front of his cotton shorts, and as he looked down on his teacher's
freshly chastised rearend, he felt a quiver of perverse pride. He
brought his tingling hand down to lay it on those heaving reddened
mounds, rubbing her smarting behind in a slow deliberate massage,
while Melissa responded by wiggling her hips in sensual delight, a
dreamy moan came from the direction of her inverted head.

She was lulled by the warmth of his tender caress. As one slow hand
kept moving over her bottom in a languid caress, he used the other to
reach under the chair, fumbling for his displaced sneaker that lay
there, all but forgotten. Holding the sneaker by the toe, he
surreptitiously lifted it over his head, and brought the hard rubber
heel cracking down hard, to deliver a powerful whack to the twin domes
of Melissa's throbbing ass. The decisive smack of the rubber slapping
the fleshy mounds was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

"THWACK!"

"YEEEEOWWWWL!" His surprised victim screeched, and her legs flew up in
a blur of frantic agitation. "Owl, Owl, Owl" she yelped, kicking and
twisting in fiery distress, wiggling her ass furiously, as though to
shake off the sting, as her lover watched the dark pink imprint that
slowly began to form across those quivering rearcheeks.

  ******

Melissa Parker spent the next half hour standing in the corner of the
room, facing the wall like a chastened schoolgirl, her blushing bottom
on open display. She stood erect and tall in her heels, stockinged
legs straight together, hands loosely at her side, facing the wall,
feeling the eyes of her masterful lover as he studied her nude back,
the sweeping lines that flowed so smoothly to the pleasingly rounded
contours of those plump, freshly punished, buttocks.

Her boy-lover sat, sprawled back on her couch, sipping a coke, taking
in the lascivious view, not saying much. When he finally did speak it
was in that lazy, half-joking tone he used with her when he was amused
and pleased with himself.

"You know teacher, I got a feeling that you won't be sitting very
much at school tomorrow. In fact, I think you might have to teach
that English class of yours standing up."



END OF PART 5

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Copyright 1998, Don Winslow
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