Teacher's Pet: Passing the Test (Book 1)
Eighteen-year-old Claire LeCroix, a new student at St. Andrew's School for Exceptional Students, has the hots for her history teacher.
So much so that she's willing to show up in his class without any panties.
The young co-ed doesn't completely understand what Mr. Harding seeks in a new teacher's pet. Or that if she accepts the position, she'll find herself not only on her knees before him, but also enrolled in St. Andrew's subschool - the School of Hard Knocks, where corporal punishment and slutty behavior are not only allowed, they're encouraged.
Before she can get that far, though, she's got to pass his tests.
Excerpt from Teacher's Pet: Passing the Test
"Claire, you're an intelligent young woman. I'm amazed at how coherent your test responses are, given that I was...distracting you." He pressed the button on the remote control, making the egg shift into a pulsing vibration pattern. "So surely you can think of the appropriate way a pet should thank her master for a gift."
"M-master?"
"That is how one refers to the owner of a pet, isn't it?"
"I suppose so, sir, oh!" The egg had now reached the shuddering pattern she'd been certain others could not only hear, but sense as it seemed to literally bounce off the inside walls of her cunt.
"So then, how should you, my aspiring pet-to-be, show your gratitude?" Gary leaned back in his chair, sprawled his legs open, and glanced down at the tiled floor. He loved the fact that she'd grown impatient, had willingly confessed her desire to have him touch her sweet little pussy.
That she'd licked her own cunt juice from his finger also indicated he was on the right track.
Had chosen wisely in his quest for a new submissive.
"I, uh, should get on the floor?"
"Exactly. See, I knew you'd get it. On your knees, little one. Make sure your skirt stays up. That pussy needs to stay in my sight."
She awkwardly knelt some distance before him. And as she hit the floor, she dropped her head ever so slightly.
His dick went rock hard at the instinctual submissive position.
"Excellent," he murmured. "Now, take off your tie. Just loosen the knot and slip it over your head."
Eyeing him warily from beneath her lashes, she worked her fingers into the knot of the red-with-blue-stripes tie. Tugging the knot lower, she slipped the tie over her head.
"Give it to me." He leaned forward, held out his hand. She placed the tie in his palm. "Now, unbutton your shirt."
The fact that her hands shook as she wrestled with the buttons pleased him to no end. When she finished with the bottom button, she fingered the edges of the blouse.
"You know what to do next, Claire, don't you?"
"T-take it off?"
"Yes. Take it off for me. Remember, I'm looking for a slut, not a tease. Just do it."
She slid the fabric off her shoulders, pulled her arms free. She held the white cotton bunched in front of her.
He tsked, shaking his head. "Is that any way to treat your school uniform shirt? You're going to wrinkle it. Give it to me."
This time she handed it over slower. He tossed her shirt over the computer monitor on his desk.
"What next, Claire?"
She dropped her head lower. "M-my bra?"
Fucking yes, he wanted to shout. Instead, he kept his voice even. "Yes. I want to see those tits, Claire. Sluts bare their tits for their masters."
She reached around behind her back, fumbling with the clasp of the plain white bra. He'd given her instructions about the type of underwear he preferred yesterday afternoon before dropping her off at her house. Her empty house.
Claire's single mother worked the second shift at the local hospital. Good for him because at some point he'd love to fuck the young co-ed in her own bed.
The clasp gave way, and Claire slid the bra down her arms.
Exposing her small-but-succulent, gravity-defying young tits to his view.
"Give me the bra," he ordered. A moment later, the scrap of satin and elastic joined her blouse on the monitor. "Now, thread your fingers together like this--" he demonstrated "--and put your hands behind your head."
The position caused her to arch her back and thrust out her chest.
She had dusky pink areolas the size of a quarter. Enough tit to have a beautiful curve to them. Probably a B cup.
And as he stared, her nipples tightened. "Ah," he breathed. "Such pretty titties, Claire."
She glanced up at him, again through her lashes. "R-really?"
"Yes." He leaned forward, brushed just the tip of his finger over the nipple. The nub hardened further. "And so responsive. Yes, I'm going to enjoy these tits."
The pulse in the hollow of her throat picked up. He couldn't resist. He pinched her nipple between his fingers.
She swallowed hard, dropping her head back, exposing more of her neck -- and shoving her tit fully into his hand.
He released her, shifting back in his chair, again sprawling open his legs. He waited.
It only took maybe a minute before she looked at him. He rubbed his cock through his black dress pants.
She inhaled sharply.
"I'll ask you again, Claire. How does a pet slut, on her knees, with her tits and cunt bare, show her master her gratitude for the lovely present he bought for her?"
Her pink tongue darted out, moistened her lips. And Gary fought back a groan. Had they been any further along with her training, had he actually already made her his pet, he'd be whipping her ass for teasing him like that.
But at this point, she hadn't meant it. Not consciously. But it did mean she understood, on some level, what came next.
Him.
"She...sucks his cock?"
Gary unbuckled his belt, pulled it free from the loops and added it to the growing pile of clothing on his desk. Then he unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled his dick free, giving it a hard squeeze, and a long, slow stroke from balls to head and back down "So smart, my little slut. Yes. She sucks his cock. So crawl over here, little one, and let's get down to brass tacks. Or dick sucking, as the case may be."
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