MILF Teacher: Becoming a Present - Sex Stories

MILF Teacher: Becoming a Present

... convinced this wasn’t an idle threat. I tried to reason with her, “Please, Latoya, I am your teacher.” “One!” she announced. “But, Latoya...” I began again. “Two!” she interrupted, before adding, “For a teacher, you do not learn very fast.” I paused, suddenly realizing my predicament, and unsure how to get out of it. Reluctantly, fearing what her wrath may bring, I unzipped her boot and took it off her foot. Without a word, she switched her footing and presented me with her other boot. I repeated the task and began to stand up. “Did I give you permission to stand?” she roared, her anger dripping with poison. I fell back onto my knees and stammered, petrified by her outburst, “N-n-n-n-no.” “Who is your Mistress?” she asked. “Pardon?” I asked back. “Three,” she announced, adding another theoretical punishment to me. “Don’t you dare move, slut.” Being called a slut was like a hard slap to the face, but for reasons unknown other than fear, I stayed on my knees as Latoya walked to my laptop. I watched curious about what she was planning to do. She typed quickly and then announced, “Sent.” “What did you just do?” I asked petrified of her answer. She smiled, “I just sent my reference letter to myself from your e-mail address. I think it will come in pretty handy if you disobey anymore.” “You didn’t,” I said, knowing she did, but praying she didn’t. She brought my laptop over to me and showed me the sent confirmation. Tears instantly formed and streamed down my face. As she tossed ...

... the laptop back onto the bed, she cautioned, “So if you disobey your Mistress again, there may be dire consequences, is that understood?” “Y-y-yes,” I stammered, realizing my predicament was even worse than before. “So, I will ask you again, who is your Mistress?” “You are,” I replied reluctantly and with no conviction. She smiled, “She was that so hard? Now next time I ask, I expect a much more eager answer, but I think maybe the problem is you don’t believe you are a slut, do you?” “No, I don’t think I am a slut,” I replied. “Stay,” she said, like I was a dog, and she disappeared out of my room. While she was gone a million ideas of how to get out of this predicament flashed into my head. I decided fuck it, and quickly went to my computer and attempted to see if there was any way to erase or stop the sent e-mail. I deleted it from my sent items, and was just searching the internet for how to delete sent e-mails when I heard her voice bellow, “Four.” I looked up at her startled and saw she was now half naked, her red blouse gone and her big breasts held in check barely by a red lace bra. Her skirt was also gone and she was now simply in black thigh highs, black panties and a big black strap-on cock. “You really want to be punished, don’t you?” she asked, walking towards me. “N-n-n-no,” I stammered, fearful, yet oddly entranced by the big cock wrapped around her waist. “I see you checking out my cock,” she smiled, “open your mouth, slut.” I obeyed and she shoved the plastic ...