Secret Masochist - Education

(All characters in this story are eighteen years of age, or older)

Chapter 22

A taste of your gratitude

Do you still want that orgasm? Of course you do. Your whole body aches for it. You've never had your desires denied like this before. What better way to celebrate your newfound self-understanding than by finally achieving that elusive climax? Hasn't Mr. Peterson been using it to pull you along through the lesson? Would you have made it this far if not for your desperate need to come?

And yet, there's something else. Something even stronger than your desire to taste that sweet release. Looking up into your teacher's eyes, you feel an intense need to thank him. He's taught you so much these past few days. You're still only beginning to understand this new idea of yourself, but it already feels so right. So perfect. Like putting on clothes made just for you. Like hearing your native tongue after a lifetime in a foreign land.

Like becoming who you were meant to be.

"I want you for my reward, Mr. Peterson."

You were expecting a smile, or a nod, or some kind of encouragement. Instead, that dark fire flares in his eyes, and he clicks the vibrators up a notch. "Are you certain you wouldn't rather have that climax, Miss Murray?"

"

Mmnnh!

" The sudden intensity tests your newfound resolve. You feel your body strain for that orgasm, and doubt starts to creep into your mind. What if you just let yourself come? Then you wouldn't need to worry about holding back anymore. This is twice now he's offered to let you climax. Why are you turning him down?

Because I need to show him I'm not the old me anymore. My desires don't control me.

He does.

"

Hah...haaanngh...

n-no, Mr. Peterson. I want...

nnnAH!

I want you. P-please." Your voice is small and trembling, but instead of sounding meek and pathetic in your ears it sounds like... you.

"If that is what you desire, Miss Murray, get on your knees and prove it." His voice is pure authority, and you're compelled to obey. Before he even finishes speaking, your knees buckle and you feel yourself sink to the floor. His eyes hold yours as you go down, down, his masculine form rising above you until he fills your whole world. His presence is like a weight pressing you down, making you feel small and insignificant. It feels so right.

When your knees hit the hard wooden floor you finally break free of his gaze. Your eyes travel down across the dark curled hair and defined muscles of his torso to rest on his stiff cock. Precum glistens on the uncircumcised tip, and you breathe deep, taking in his scent. Your mouth waters as you feel your body grow warm, and you fight the urge to take him in your mouth right away. This isn't about what you want. This is about showing Mr. Peterson how much you've learned, and how grateful you are to him for teaching you.

Reaching up, you grasp his length in one hand, resting your other on his hip for balance. His cock is hot, and you can feel it gently throb under your touch. You remember how it felt stretching your ass, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like filling your pussy. Leaning forward, you kiss the tip, shuddering as you finally get a taste of him. You kiss your way down to the base, and use your hand to hold him against your face. Feeling his heat, his power, his sheer manliness. Taking a deep breath, you reach your tongue out to taste his heavy balls.

Stroking his hardness against your face as you lick at his nutsack, you feel an odd sense of peace. Being on your knees with him towering over you, using your mouth to service his manhood, ignoring your own needs to focus on him instead. It all feels so natural. You know your old self would be horrified by what you're doing right now. Disgusted that you would give yourself to an arrogant chauvinist like this. That knowledge is cold and distant, though, and you simply can't bring yourself to care. Mr. Peterson's hard cock needs your attention, and that's the only thing that matters.

Using your tongue to pull one ball into your mouth, you can't help but think about all the cum he has in there for you. Sucking gently as you use your hand to rub his dick over your face, you wonder if he'll let you swallow his seed, or if he'll prefer to cover you with it. You pull in short, sharp breaths through your nose, his smell overpowering you. Mr. Peterson lets out a deep, rumbling groan, and your whole body shudders in response.

"Your oral attentions are quite pleasing, Miss Murray. I am glad, for both of us, that you have finally accepted your place."

You moan into his crotch, your wet tongue eagerly dancing over the nut in your mouth.

Yes, Mr. Peterson, thank you so much for showing me where I belong

.

"I must admit, I had my doubts that you would ever make it this far. Your contentious attitude in class made me believe you might never accept my natural superiority."

You let his ball slip from your mouth and run your tongue up his length to the tip. Pulling back, you continue to stroke him with your hand as you look up into his eyes. "I...

haanh

... I only made it this far because of you, Mr. Peterson. Your...

mnngh

... your lessons taught me who I am...

nnh

... what I need."

Your teacher smiles at you, and joy blooms in your chest. You focus on your task, reaching out your tongue to tease his tip. Pushing just under the foreskin to taste his slit, slick and salty with precum. Running your tongue around the head, getting him nice and wet. Finally, at long last, taking him into your hot mouth. You moan softly, gently sucking as your tongue continues to work.

"Very good, Miss Murray. This is an important step. Surrendering your will, understanding that service can be its own reward. There is so much to gain once you give yourself to authority."

His words make your head spin and your body grow warm. As you bob your head up and down, continuing to eagerly suck and lick at his cock in your mouth, you marvel at how different you feel. Giving head had always made you feel powerful, like you were the one in control. Sucking dick was something you did for yourself as much as your partner. Now, every movement of your head, every flick of your tongue, is completely devoted to Mr. Peterson's pleasure. Even though he hasn't moved, hasn't touched you, hasn't directed you at all beyond telling you to get on your knees, you feel completely under his control.

It feels absolutely euphoric.

"You are already beginning to understand, Miss Murray, but there is so much more I can teach you. Subsuming yourself to the dominance of man, allowing your body to be a receptacle for his desires, attuning your actions to his needs." He reaches out a hand to rest on your head, allowing you to feel the weight of him. "How does it feel, Miss Murray, to finally give up your resistance to the natural order?"

You look up at him while still sucking at his hardness, and you feel a tear sting your eye. The last whisper of your old self, one final show of defiance against what you've become. As the tear makes its way down your cheek, it feels utterly insignificant compared to the flood from your pussy. Your juices drip onto the floor, everything your teacher is saying making you burn with arousal. Deep down, you still despise the idea of arrogant sexists like him believing they're better than women. You hate how they think they deserve to be in control.

Yet here you are, on your knees, an obedient cocksucker for just such a man. In spite of everything you believe, everything you know in your heart to be true, you've allowed him to break you down, body and mind, and teach you how to behave. He's turned you into a good student, longing to be taught obedience, eager for his punishing discipline. Now, you thrill at the chance to serve him with your young body, plugged and trembling and on display in the outfit he chose for you. Your clit buzzes like a live wire, the erotic charge of your transformation too much to contain.

You've been so focused on pleasuring your teacher that you didn't notice how close that orgasm is to finally crashing into you. The vibrators are combining with the dizzying thrill of your surrender to put you right on the edge. You ride that wave, allowing it to push you even further into the warm embrace of total subservience. Breathing in through your nose, you take Mr. Peterson as deep as you can, shuddering as you feel him push into your throat. You hold him there, as deep as you've ever taken a dick, allowing your reflexive swallows to massage his cockhead.

I need to take him deeper. I have to prove my devotion to him. He needs to be the first to claim my throat, just like he did to my ass.

Pulling back enough to take in another breath, you gather your resolve and push forward. You feel him go even deeper this time, but there's still length left to go. Gagging and coughing, tears leaking from your eyes, you pull back and push forward again, getting just a little farther. Mr. Peterson's hand gently strokes your hair, and you feel your heart melt in your chest.

I can do it, Mr. Peterson. I can do this for you. I won't let you down.

After a few more attempts to swallow him whole, none quite making it all the way, you pull your head off his cock and take a few gasping breaths. Tears stream down your face, both from the effort and the wretched feeling of failure. Are you just not capable of taking him entirely? Are you really so pathetic that after everything he's done for you, giving this part of yourself to him is beyond your ability?

"Look at me, Miss Murray."

You peek up at your teacher through your purple hair, and see that he's smiling down at you. In spite of how awful you feel, a small shudder of joy travels through your body.

He still believes in me.

"Tell me what you want, Miss Murray."

You take a deep breath. "I want to give..."

No, remember his lessons

. "I... I want you to take my throat, Mr. Peterson."

His hand on your hair comes down to cradle your tear-stained cheek. "And you aren't able to achieve this on your own, Miss Murray?"

You shake your head. "I... I tried, Mr. Peterson. I really did, but..."

"But you need me to take what is mine."

You nod. "Yes, Mr. Peterson."

He steps forward to stand directly over you, forcing you to crane your head back. "Open your mouth and extend your tongue, Miss Murray." As you obey, he uses his free hand to guide his cock into your waiting mouth. "Now take a deep breath, and relax."

You do as you're told, your body bursting with the combined pleasure of the vibrators and the feeling of his complete dominance over you. He presses down, and with the new angle of your head his cock easily slips into your throat. He keeps going, allowing his weight to overcome your body's resistance. Your eyes go wide as you feel him stretch you, and you do your best to suppress your reflexive coughs and gags.

He's doing it oh my god he's making me take all of him thank you thank you thank you Mr. Peterson.

He finally bottoms out, his balls resting on your chin and his pubic hair tickling your nose. Any discomfort you feel is completely swept away by the sheer joy of surrendering another part of yourself to your teacher. As he reaches both hands behind your head, the dark fire in his eyes warms you, making you feel safe. "Keep your throat relaxed, Miss Murray. I am going to take my well-earned pleasure from you now."

You moan around his cock as he starts to slowly pump in and out. Every few thrusts he pulls back enough for you to pull in a breath past the thick meat plugging your windpipe. You almost wish he wouldn't. You want him to just use your body as a tool for his pleasure. You've never felt so utterly content as you do right now, and your pussy burns as you imagine what you look like. Small, submissive, being completely dominated by this powerful man in front of the roaring fire.

You wish it could last forever.

His thrusts become more insistent, and you feel him start to swell in your throat. "I've imagined this many times, Miss Murray." There's a hungry, rasping edge to his voice that nearly sends you over the edge. "Every time you interrupted my lectures with your rude asides. Every time you talked back, challenged my authority, distracted me and the other students with your snide remarks. What better way to discipline such a student than by making her take my manhood in her mouth?"

He's hammering down against your face now. You can feel his barely contained ferocity in his grip on your head. His thrusts are painful at this point, and he's stopped giving you chances to breathe. Holding onto his hips for dear life, you wish he would go even harder.

He gives you a sharp smile. "I never imagined, though, that you would give your mouth to me so willingly, Miss Murray. I can see now, this is what you wanted. This is why you so insistently drew my attention to yourself. You may not have known it at the time, but you set yourself on this path just as much as I led you down it."

His words push you past the limits of your endurance. You feel the orgasm begin to spark inside you, and there's no longer anything you can do to stop it.

Yes, Mr. Peterson, I want this. I've always wanted this. This is who I am.

"Now come for me, Miss Murray. Let us finish this journey together." He slams into your throat one last time, letting out a bestial grunt as you feel him throb inside you. The spark of your orgasm becomes a wildfire, instantly spreading through your whole body. You scream around his cock even as you feel it fill your belly with his cum. Fingers squeezing his hips, body shuddering with release, juices splattering on the wooden floor, you feel your consciousness start to slip away.

Before you pass out, Mr. Peterson pulls his cock from your convulsing throat. He lets the last few spurts of cum out in your mouth, allowing you to taste it, feel it as it slides around on your tongue. Pulling the head from between your lips, he allows you to take a few heaving breaths before pushing you down to suckle at his balls. You eagerly get to work, grateful for all the cum they gave you. His slowly softening cock rests on your face, and your eyes, wet with tears of joy and effort, look up at the man who taught you who you are.

You can't wait to find out what else he has to teach you.