Cordelia's Feet 9 - The Queen Bee's Deceit - Sex Stories

Cordelia's Feet 9 - The Queen Bee's Deceit

... depth of your depravity. Show them these. For me.” I couldn’t remember my hand ever shaking so badly, but I gripped the photos hard. “Yes, Cordelia.” She didn’t need to give me further orders. I crawled across the floor, reflecting how she had seduced me with her beauty, unlocked parts of me that I myself had never been aware of, and finally, just through little promises and tiny boons, completely enslaved me. Somehow, her power over me had become absolute. Just like the characters in those French novels, I had fallen to her spell and let her spin a web of seduction that I had neither the power nor the desire to escape. I approached the girl in the first desk, Penny, a lithe, albeit a little nerdy, cute and quiet redhead with a ponytail, and knelt upright next to her, holding out a shaky hand with the first printed sheet of proof of my debauchery. I had always liked her, and she had been eager to participate when prodded a little, preening when she earned my praise. Now, once her eyes had travelled over the perverted picture, her eyes held contempt. “Slut,” she whispered and passed the photo on to her neighbor, the slightly stocky Lizbeth, whom I had always had a hard time to reign in. She was right. The next photo followed, and slowly, all evidence travelled through Penny’s hands and was shared with the whole class. The shame inside me built to almost unbearable levels, tinting my whole body in a deep, trembling blush. “Mrs. Wilkins!” Cordelia’s sharp command pulled me ...

... from a frozen moment. The last photo had long since passed through the hands of my students. “Come here!” I scurried over to where she indicated, next to her at the front of the blackboard. “Stand up!” My knees wobbled, but I complied. My gasp rang out loud and clear when I suddenly felt her fingers between my thighs, rubbing up and down, pressing between my aroused folds. All that shame had collected in a deep pool inside my sex, and now she was stirring it awake. My hips rocked forward to meet her hands and I moaned. I heard her voice like from a distance. “Power. I have all the power and she has none. How far will she go, now that she has been enslaved? I believe, as far as I ask her to. Mrs. Wilkins,” she said to me, this time a little softer, “we could stop now and let this be nothing but an incredibly shameful experience, but then I will never touch you again.” Her index finger flicked my clit and drew shaking gasps. “Or we could keep playing a little longer, with irreversible consequences. Which will it be?” My heart beat so fast I couldn’t make out individual pulses. Heat and cold raced up and down my body. Her expectant eyes bore deeply into mine, seeing behind all the layers of self-delusion I had built up, and the corners of her mouth quirked upwards long before realization set in and the truth settled over me like a heavy blanket. “Keep playing,” I croaked, unable to resist her wishes and caving to the soft, skilled fingers playing between my thighs and keeping me ...