Author's Note: All characters in this story are at least 18 years or older.
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I rushed through another essay last night (even when I had all week to work on it) and I was just now turning it into my sixth period teacher's desk right after class ended. Luckily he had stepped away for a moment to talk to another student so I didn't have to look at him when I turned in this shameful display.
I usually tried my hardest on the essay assignments but recently I just haven't been focused enough to really work on them.
It's not that I don't like the class or that I was lazy. I loved my honors English class; it was actually one of the only subjects I enjoyed in school. As a senior I should really be doing my best to finish strong for my last year of high school, but I always end up getting distracted and procrastinating.
One of my favorite parts of the class (and one of my favorite distractions), was the teacher, Mr. Lawrence. He was probably in his mid or late thirties if I had to guess. He always gave interesting, and sometimes funny, perspectives on the literature that we read in class. He was also the most attractive teacher at this school, and definitely more desirable than any of the immature teenage boys. He had beautiful dark brown hair and eyes that I would catch myself staring at during class. He was also still in very good shape from his daily runs and trips to the gym when he wasn't grading assignments.
All the porn I've been watching and the erotic stories I've been reading recently have all been under the teacher and student tag. My fascination with my teacher was verging on obsession but at least I never acted on it. Yet.
It was my dream to be able to even kiss Mr. Lawrence and my fantasy to seduce him into doing things with me that I have only ever dreamed of doing. Some have told me that I'm attractive with my long brown hair, green eyes to complement my pale skin, and a lithe and athletic body shaped by all my years playing soccer. I hoped that Mr. Lawrence found me attractive so that one day if I built up the courage, I could seduce him. Today I wore my favorite white top and cute school girl skirt, matched with black thigh highs, to see if he would react any differently. I was feeling a bit more confident than usual; I would never normally wear something this provocative.
I stopped drooling over Mr. Lawrence for a moment to turn in my essay. As soon as the paper left my hand and fell into the basket I was scurrying away towards the door. I really did not want to be there when he saw it, I hate disappointing him. It always gives me this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach to see the look on his face when he hands back that "C" paper. At that same time, I heard him sit back down at his desk. Maybe I can get out the door befo-
"Young lady, come back here."
"Is something wrong, sir?" I asked praying that I could have just forgotten to write my name on the paper or anything better than what I knew was actually the most likely situation. The look in his dusky, umber eyes told me that wishful thinking wasn't going to work.
By this time all the other students were out of the classroom and probably headed home, especially since it was a Friday. I was going to be alone to face whatever disappointment he had to show me.
"Yes there is, Ms. Jackson. I want you to come here and look at this."
I carefully walked over to where his hand was extending the foul paper towards me, his eyes averted from it as though making direct eye contact would cause permanent blindness. I guess he only had to read a few sentences to know that I rushed through it without any real effort.
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
His eyes flashed back in my direction like a snake striking its prey. I hesitated for a moment, feeling like a terrified field mouse in his cold line of sight. He didn't wait for an answer and he ran his hand through his dark hair in exasperation, then he turned toward me. He stood up with both hands on his desk he leaned forward, veins bulging from his exposed forearms. Intensity radiated from his lean body. I looked into his face searching for mercy and all I saw was a strong face set in stone.
"Do you really expect me to waste my time reading this half-written piece of shit? I honestly have no idea why you even waste your time writing anything when you clearly could not care less about this class. This is the third time you've done this. I expected better from you," the disappointment and anger on his face was soul-crushing.
But the rage he demonstrated was much more overpowering. I took a small step back; I didn't expect him to get this angry. He paused for a moment and started pacing, slowly circling me. Now I really do feel like prey. I started feeling something very intriguing that I haven't felt before. It was a strange mix of fear and-
"I've taught here for ten years and I'm not going to put up with bullshit like this, do you understand?"
"I-I'm sorry, I really do care, I just-"
Mr. Lawrence grabbed my hip with one hand and my hair with the other as he pushed me against the wall.
"You didn't answer my question, sweetheart."
The slight smile on that crept onto his face was even more frightening than the hatred filled eyes I saw a few moments ago. I was shaking with fear in his strong grasp; I couldn't even wiggle out of the hold. I realized what that other feeling was mixed in with my fear.
It was pure arousal.
"I understand," I whispered, barely able to get the words out.
"You understand, sir?" He growled and his nails dug into my side.
"I understand, sir!" I yelped though it didn't hurt that badly. I wanted to obey him, but I also wanted him to keep hurting me. What was
going on with me?
"Good girl" he whispered and leaned closer to me. I shivered. All of a sudden I felt his tongue lick the outside edge of my ear and then a sharp pain when he bit into my earlobe.
"Ahh... what are you doing Mr. Lawrence?" I asked as I tried to hold back my heavy breathing. My body felt like it was heating up and I felt my cheeks flush. I was losing my mind. Why did it feel so good? I shouldn't like being treated like this. But that thought just made it feel so much better.
My fear was fading away and I became hypnotized by his power over me, I needed him to keep going. I wanted to hear him tell me that I was a good girl again.
Please call me a good girl.
"I'm making sure you understand your place," he replied, I hardly even remembered the question I asked him.
With his strong hand wrapped around my throat, he led me to his desk.
"Sit," he ordered as he let go of my throat.
I obeyed and awkwardly sat myself on his desk.
"Listen very carefully, Alice," he said with a comforting quality to his words.
He has never called me by my first name before.
"You have two options: stay in this room and I will become your Dom. You will obey every command I give you or there will be severe punishments. You will follow my rules 24/7. You will only be mine, and I will have full control over you. Or you can walk out of here right now, I will give you an 'A' on your paper and we can both forget about this. Do you have any
questions?"
Boy did I have questions. I didn't even know what "Dom" meant. I'm assuming it was short for dominant? I would be under his control at all times... would I be his slave? What is he asking of me? All of these questions and more were circulating my brain. The one thing I was sure of was that I wanted to be able to live out my fantasies with Mr. Lawrence. I would do anything to get there. I wanted him to be pleased with me.
"Would I be your slave?" I asked quite timidly, picking just one of my many questions.
