The Devil’s Pact Slave Chronicles 8: Mrs. Corra, Progressive Teaching
Introduction:
Mrs. Corra is her student’s sex slave. When her master wants to have fun, she has to discipline an uptight virgin that objects.
Copyright 2015
Mrs. Corra: Progressive Teaching
Note: Damien, Miss Sullivan’s boyfriend, was given his math teacher, Mrs. Corra, to be his sex slave. Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!
Friday, September 6th, 2013 – Polly Corra – Tacoma, WA
“Today’s lesson is on Pythagorean theorem,” I announced, writing on the whiteboard with a black, dry erase marker after the bell rang, starting First Period of Washington High School. “Who knows what…” My eyes widened, and I tried to stop the soft moan that escaped my lips. The vibrator in my pussy, held in place by a pair of panties, suddenly hummed on, buzzing at its lowest setting. “…it’s…um…used for.”
Mr. Damien Fairburn smirked in the back, leaning back in his chair. Miss Missy Sullivan had scooted her desk right next to his, something students weren’t supposed to do. But they were my Masters, so I could hardly tell them off. Miss Sullivan leaned over and whispered in Mr. Fairburn’s ear. I gasped as the the vibrator clicked to the setting two; a wonderful sensation filled my pussy.
The vibrator was enchanted. One of Miss Sam Soun’s devilish devices. Mr. Fairburn was attuned to it and controlled the toy with his mind, willing it to vibrate. It was getting hard to focus as my pussy was churned into frothy wonder. I barely noticed Miss Brentwood’s hand shot up into the air and waved. She was a prissy, blonde girl wearing a conservative blouse and long, black skirt.
“Yes, Miss Brentwood.” I tried my best to keep my passion out of my voice.
“It’s used to find solve the lengths of right angle triangles,” she proudly stated.
“Yes,” I nodded, turning to right a2+b2=c2 on the whiteboard and drawing a right angle triangle next to it then wrote a, b, and c along the triangle’s sides. “Pythagorean theorem states that the hypotenuses of the triangle,” I pointed to the long side labeled c, “length squared is equal to the two right angle sides squared.” I motioned to sides A and B.
The vibrator kicked up a notch and I moaned, leaning against the whiteboard. I grit my teeth as I struggled to control myself. Miss Sullivan wickedly giggled in the back. I looked and saw her hand busily moving beneath the desk and a large grin on Mr. Fairburn’s face. Then Miss Sullivan pulled out her phone and held it up so they could both look at it. I frowned, then remembered Miss Dawn Cooper, their other sex slave, was streaming some sort of sex show from the boy’s restroom. Miss Sullivan was always making Miss Cooper do humiliating things.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Corra?” Miss Brentwood asked, concern painting her face.
“I’m fine,” I answered, wiping at the sweat bursting out on my brow.
My juices soaked through my panties and my tart arousal perfumed the air. A few of the boys were staring avidly at my chest. I had DD breasts, and today I wore no bra. My nipples prominently pressed against the thin, cotton of my blouse. As I moved, my breasts swayed and my nipples rubbed across the fabric, adding to the stew brewing in my pussy.
“So if a=3 and b=4, what would side c equal to?” I asked.
Mostly blank looks faced me; only Miss Brentwood was working on the problem.
“Oh, my god,” Miss Sullivan suddenly gasped. “She’s got a cock in her mouth and cunt!”
The class all turned around and gaped at the strawberry-blonde, lithe girl. Miss Brentwood flushed crimson, then looked at me for guidance. They all knew that Missy’s sister was the Goddess, though not everyone believed Mr. and Mrs. Glassner’s divinity.
“Just ignore them class. Now, has anyone…” The vibrator kicked up to its middle setting and I gripped the edge of my desk and tried to stifle my moan as a small orgasm steamed through my body.
All the boys, and a few of the girls, were staring wide-eyed at me as my orgasm overwhelmed me. I doubled over, grabbing the edges of my desk. My tits were practically falling out of my blouse, and the entire class could see down my blouse and catch glimpses of my pink nipples. I was on display for them, and that just made the orgasm even more intense.
Lust shined in their eyes, hard-ons bulged in the boy’s pants and girls shifted their thighs as their pussies dampened their panties. I bit my lip, trying to maintain some decorum before my students. Mr. Fairburn and Miss Sullivan smiled at me, enjoying the sight. The pleasure kept quaking through me and my passion couldn’t be contained. I let out a long, low moan.
I suddenly felt free.
It didn’t matter that I was cumming in front of a class of high school students, it just mattered that I was bursting with pleasure. I didn’t fight my orgasm. I embraced it. I threw back my head, pulling the bobby pins out of my hair and letting my lush, curly hair fall about my shoulders.
And then the vibrator stopped.
The class was silent, the students all staring in amazement at me. I smiled, stood up and straightened my clothes, pushing my hair out of my face. Mr. Fairburn winked at me from the back of the classroom and I winked back at him.
“So, who knows the answer to the problem?” I asked as if nothing had happened.
“Um, c=5,” Miss Brentwood answered.
“Correct,” I nodded. “Why don’t you write your solution out on the whiteboard?”
“Okay.” She seemed a little hesitant as I perched on the edge of my desk, my short skirt riding up to show the tops of my thigh-high stockings and the straps of my garter belt.
She talked as she wrote out her math. “Well, the square of 3 is 9 and the square of 4 is 16.”
A wet, smacking noise filled the classroom. I smiled. Miss Sullivan and Mr. Fairburn were vigorously making out. Mr. Fairburn’s hand slipped under her blouse and was clearly groping her budding breasts. I licked my lips, envious of Miss Sullivan. I loved Mr. Fairburn, and I always felt a little jealous when my Master was with another woman. I tried not to be, reminding myself that I was his slave not his lover.
“So I then added 9+16 and got 25,” Miss Brentwood continued. “Then…oh, my gosh! Mrs. Corra, they shouldn’t be doing that.”
“Just keep solving your problem.” I dismissively waved my hand.
Mr. Fairburn broke the kiss and whispered something in Miss Sullivan’s ear. She grinned back at her boyfriend and nodded her head. She straddled Mr. Fairburn’s lap, his hands cupping her ass through her short skirt. All the eyes in the room were on my young Masters.
“All I had to do next was find the square root of 25, which is 5 and…”
“Oh, Damien!” Miss Sullivan moaned, her hips bouncing up and down on his lap, clearing riding his cock.
A summer spent in Mr. and Mrs. Glassner’s neighborhood, where casual sex abounded, seemed to have warped my Masters’ sense of appropriateness. The neighborhood was full of horny bodyguards and sluts, and let’s not forget Dr. Willow WolfTail’s insatiable nurses. My two Masters had reveled in it. Almost any woman living in the neighborhood were available to satisfy any desires the two had.
“I love your pussy,” Mr. Fairburn moaned, then started kissing her again. Her naked ass flashed as she fucked him fast, her skirt rising up and down.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” demanded Miss Brentwood.
“Shut up!” Mr. Cleveland shouted. The bulky linebacker was appreciatively eyeing Miss Sullivan’s ass.
“This is wrong!” Miss Brentwood actually stamped her foot. “Mrs. Corra, what is wrong with you? This is unacceptable behavior!”
She was getting on my nerves. I glanced at my Masters and saw Mr. Fairburn nod to me. “Miss Brentwood, you sit down right this instant and stop causing a disruption in my classroom!”
The prissy girl blinked at me. “What? I’m the one causing a disturbance? I’m going to go tell the principal what sort of behavior you seem to find acceptable!”
“Now I have had enough of your insolence!” I reached out, grabbed her arm, and hauled her over to my desk. “It’s time for you to be disciplined.”
“What!” she yelled as I tried to force her over my desk. She squired in my arms. “Help! Help!”
“Ohh,” Miss Sullivan giggled, looking over her shoulder. “Give her a good spanking, Mrs. Corra!”
“I plan on it, Miss Sullivan,” I answered. “Now stop struggling, Miss Brentwood. You’re just making your punishment worse!”
“Help me!” she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks.
The door opened and 02 stuck her head in. “Is everything all right in here?” the bodyguard asked, concern on her light brown face.
“She’s assaulting me! Help!” Mrs. Brentwood shouted at the sluttily dressed bodyguard.
“I could use some help disciplining this student,” I said.
02 glanced at the back of the room. Miss Sullivan and Mr. Fairburn had changed positions. She was bent over the desk, and he was plowing her from behind. “Help her,” Miss Sullivan commanded the bodyguard.
“Of course, ma’am,” 02 answered, striding into the classroom, her perky tits seemingly about to spill out of her half-unbuttoned, navy-blue blouse.
“What?” Miss Brentwood gaped as the bodyguard grasped her wrists and yanked her across the desk, pinning her in place.
“Stop resisting or I’ll handcuff you,” 02 threatened in her cops voice. She was a former Lynwood Police Officer before Mr. and Mrs. Glassner conscripted her as a bodyguard.
Miss Brentwood, trembling stopped as she gave up, ending her resistance.
“Good,” I said. “Now you can’t be disrupting class like that, you understand?”
“Oh, my God, Damien,” Miss Sullivan paned. “Oh, my God! Fuck me!”
“But what about them?” she pleaded.
I tutted in annoyance. “Miss Sullivan is the sister of a Goddess,” I told her. “She’s practically divine herself, and Mr. Fairburn is her chosen consort. So I can hardly tell them to do anything.”
“Fuck, fuck!” moaned Mr. Fairburn. “Oh, Missy! Your pussy is so tight!”
“But you, Miss Brentwood, are neither a Goddess nor related to one. So what gives you the right to disrupt my class?”
“None,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
“Good,” I smiled, then pulled up her long, black skirt.
She struggled again when her panty-clad ass was revealed. “But, I said I was sorry.”
“You did,” I smiled, stroking her pert ass. “But that doesn’t excuse your behavior.”
I gripped her panties, looking at the excited faces eagerly staring at her butt. Then I unveiled her treasures for all the hungry gazes. Her ass was pale and taut, two perky hemispheres made of creamy skin. Between her thighs was a tight slit adorned with wispy, blonde curls.
“Isn’t she beautiful class?” I asked.
“Yeah,” sighed Miss Song, a cute, Korean girl.
“If any of you feel like expressing yourself like Miss Sullivan and Mr. Fairburn, feel free. Whether by yourself or with a partner.”
I gave Miss Brentwood’s perky butt-cheek a squeeze. Then I gave her one hard spanking, stinging my hand and leaving a red print blushing her ass. She grunted in pain, still gently crying as she struggled.
I made a soothing sound and rubbed my fingers gently through her vulva. “See, it’s not that bad. Just relax, Miss Brentwood, and it’ll all be over soon.” The heat of her pussy warmed my fingers. I let my index finger slide through her labia and felt her inner warmth. A drop of dew glistened on the tip of my finger when I pulled it out. I tasted her sweetness.
“Oh, wow,” Miss Song gasped.
Out of the corner of my eye, I witnessed Miss Song’s hand busy beneath her skirt. Then she stood up and walked over to Miss Giles’s—a lovely girl with curly, honey-brown hair—desk and grabbed the girl’s hand. Miss Giles swallowed and stood up.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Miss Song breathed, desire burning in her light-olive cheeks.
“Oh, shit!” Miss Giles gasped in her sweet dulcet as the Korean girl lifted her skirt and buried her face between her thighs. “Oh, my god, she’s eating me!”
The dam broke, and students stated groping each other. There were more girls in the class, twelve to the eight boys, but despite this imbalance poor, nerdy Mr. Andrews and short Mr. Casales were left without partners. Two other girls, redheaded Miss Horne and ebony-skinned Miss Babcock noisily sixty-nined on the classroom floor and Mr. Cleavland, the football player, had both cinnamon-skinned Miss Whitetail and busty Miss Stoddard sucking on his cock.
I turned my attention back to Miss Brentwood. Her other cheek was still pale, so I gave it a nice, hard spank before I let my fingers once again trail through her vulva, gathering more sweet dew. The prissy blonde’s face reddened and soft moan escaped her lips as I brushed her hard clitoris budding from its hood.
“Are you getting turned on, Miss Brentwood?” I asked with a stern tone. “This is a punishment, after all.”
“No, Mrs. Corra,” she lied.
I wiggled my finger through a hole in her hymen. She was hot and tight. When I pulled it out, dew glistened on the entire length. I shoved my finger into her face and she grimaced. “If this wasn’t arousing you, then why is your pussy damp?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “Maybe it’s pee.”
“Taste it,” I said, shoving it into her lips. “Does that taste like piss?”
“No,” she whispered. “ It tastes…sweet.”
“Yes, it did,” I purred into her ear before I licked her lobe. Then I gave her ass another slap; she bucked in 02’s grip as she gasped in pain.
I alternated between stinging slaps and gentle caresses. Her pussy grew more and more dewy, and I reveled in the taste of her womanhood as I sucked her juices off my fingers. Her ass was a pretty shade of red, and her hips writhed in desperate need.
“Please,” she moaned. “I need it.”
“What?” I asked, giving her reddened cheek a gentle, soothing kiss.
“I need a…a bad feeling,” she whispered.
“A what?” I asked, perplexed.
“It’s what momma says happens when you touch your vagina too much. God doesn’t like it. It’s a bad feeling. A sinful feeling”
“But you love it, don’t you?”
“I try to fight it,” she moaned. “But sometimes I just can’t help but rub my vagina. I need it right now. Please.”
“I’ll make you cum,” I smiled, giving her other inflamed cheek a soothing kiss.
Around us the room echoed with the moans of horny students fucking and sucking. I gave a quick survey and was pleased to see Miss Sullivan giving poor Mr. Andrews some attention, sucking on his cock, while Mr. Fairburn fucked blonde Miss Popov’s ass and Mr. Hiram fucked her pussy. Miss Song had satisfied Miss Giles and found Miss Whitetail’s pussy to be equally as enjoyable.
The vibrator hummed to life inside my cunt, and I didn’t hide my moan as I buried my face into Miss Brentwood’s sweet pussy. She gasped a soft, delicate noise as my tongue explored her pink petals. I slide my tongue along her wrinkled lips, starting at her budding clit, and reaching up to her pink hole. I licked my tongue through her tight warmth and caressed the thin membrane—her cherry.
My master should get to pluck her.
He loved to talk about plucking Miss Sullivan’s virginity, and how much he enjoyed being the first cock inside her. Miss Sullivan would giggle and point out that she popped his cherry, too. “We were both virgins that wonderful night,” she would sigh with a happy smile on her face. “It was special, even if neither of us knew what we were doing. Luckily, Mark taught me and Desiree taught Damien.”
I kept wiggling my tongue inside Miss Brentwood’s cunt, her sweet scent filled my nostrils. My fingers found her hard clit, rolling it between my fingers. She gasped, her hips shifting as her youthful body was filled with passion.
“Oh, Mrs. Corra,” Miss Brentwood moaned. “I know being with a woman’s a sin, but, gosh, that’s amazing!”
I slid my mouth higher, pressing between her soft butt-cheeks while I slipped my thumb into her tight cunt and gently fucking her with it. My lips kissed across her taint until I found her small, rosebud anus clenching in pleasure. She jump as my tongue tasted her sour musk.
“What! Oh, jeez! You can do that?” she gasped. “That’s so dirty!”
I lifted my face from her wonderful valley. “That’s what makes it feel so wonderful, Miss Brentwood.”
I wiggled my tongue into her sphincter, a mini-cum trembling through my body as I devoured this innocent girls virgin treasures. The vibrator hummed faster inside me, shaking me to a second orgasm. I probed as deep as I could, reveling in her innocent filth, as rapture rolled over and over through me.
“Here comes the bad feeling!” she gasped. “Oh, yes! Here it comes!”
Her asshole squeezed my tongue; her cunt squeezed my thumb; her moans filled my ears.
My orgasm exploded in my cunt.
When I opened my eyes, Miss Brentwood knelt next to me, a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I grabbed her face and pulled her down so I could passionately kiss her. The kiss was sweet and my passion transformed the little virgin into a horny slut as her tongue fenced back with mine. I broke the kiss, stared into her blue eyes burning with lust as my fingers once again found the treasure between her thighs untouched by man.
“How would you like to lose your virginity?” I asked her, rolling her clit between my fingers.
“I…oh that’s nice,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t…”
“But you want to, don’t you?”
She looked away. I pinched harder.
“The Living Gods have come to wipe away the outdated morality,” I whispered. “It’s not a sin to experience pleasure with whomever you choose.” I licked her delicate lobe, slipping a finger inside her tight sheathe. “Why don’t you let Mr. Fairburn make a woman out of you. A cock is so much better than a finger!”
“Yes,” she answered.
My cunt spasmed about the vibrator and I pulled her down for a second kiss.
Mr. Fairburn was more than willing to take her cherry and laid her across my desk. He unbuttoned her blouse and exposed a demure bra that covered budding breasted with cute, little nipples that were pink and oh-so-hard.
Miss Sullivan wandered over, licking cum off her lips. She just finished blowing Mr. Cleveland and gave me a deep kiss. I had another mini-cum tasting a man’s cum on her lips; the vibrator still hummed away inside me.
Then Miss Sullivan bent down and kissed Miss Brentwood, her strawberry-blonde hair falling in a curtain around Miss Brentwood’s face. “So, you want to fuck my boyfriend, huh?”
Blushing crimson, Miss Brentwood nodded as Mr. Fairburn licked at her nipples.
“Then you have to pay the price,” Miss Sullivan smiled and climbed onto the desk. She held her skirt up, exposing her youthful pussy leaking Mr. Fairburn’s cum, and settled it on the virgin’s face. “Lick me!”
A glob of cum dropped out of the Miss Sullivan’s pussy into Miss Brentwood’s face. She flinched, looking fearful at the descending pussy, then licked her tongue out. She smiled, licking what she tasted, and her next lick was more confident.
“Go ahead, honey,” Miss Sullivan said. “Pop her cherry.”
My master grinned at her. “You’re the best, Missy.”
“I know!” she beamed, then closed her eyes and let herself get lost to the pleasure of Miss Brentwood’s tongue.
I watched closely as my master’s wonderful cock brushed the virgin’s flower. He found her sheath and pressed against her opening. He was obstructed, drew back, and buried himself into her pussy with one thrust.
Miss Brentwood moaned, her body thrashing upon my desk as her cherry was popped.
The vibrator went to max inside me. My legs turned to water as pleasure erupted in my pussy. I collapsed to the floor, moaning and writhing. I was lost to the rapture of that wonderful, humming toy inside me. Gods, I had to remember to thank Miss Soun for making such a wicked device. Waves and waves of pleasure assaulted my senses.
I was barely aware of anything going on. If a cock was offered to my lips, I’d suck it. If a pussy pressed on my face, I’d lick it. I came and came until I thought my pussy was going be worn out. I was almost numb inside, and that wonderful tube of plastic kept vibrating me to knew plateaus of rapture.
And then it stopped humming. I crashed back into reality.
My masters smiled down at me, arm-in-arm. Miss Brentwood knelt beside me, and I realized the last pussy I ate was hers. Miss Brentwood had been full of Mr. Fairburns delightful cum. The other students were straightening their clothes.
“What’s going on?” I panted.
“Period is over,” Miss Sullivan said. She winked at me, “I hope you enjoy your toy, Mrs. Corra.”
“I’ll be keeping you on your toes all day long,” Mr. Fairburn grinned.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I breathed.
