Teacher's Apple

The school was quiet after three. Most of the teachers were gone after classes were let out, but Lea, who had taught at the school for a few years, was waiting anxiously. She knew he would walk into her classroom any minute, and part of her was nervous—scared, really. She wanted to be perfect, and she worried he'd see something out of place, something she had forgotten. Part of her was excited, too. She sensed the heated moisture welling between her legs, which was exposed under her skirt because he'd told her she was not to wear panties today.

She heard the deliberate clicking of heels outside the classroom. He was coming up the hallway. The adrenaline surged as the moment was upon her. She didn't dare look up from her paperwork, which she'd been pretending to study for what seemed like hours. Then, the door creaked open quickly. He stood in the doorway, that tall man whose mysteriousness never ceased to enthrall her, to play with her mind as if he'd created the puzzle in her head about him to simply and cruelly toy with her.

"Teacher, might I have a moment," his voice boomed. God, it still made her wet, the sound of his voice. She turned to face him from her paperwork.

"Sir?—" she uttered, barely. This was it. It was happening, just like he'd told her it would.

He stood at the desk now, his ashen hair flowing wildly. His black pants streamlined his legs, tapering down to his polished black shoes. He looked so tall as he stood looking down at her. "I am here from the School District. It's come to our attention that your class is not in adherence to the approved curriculum. I am here to discuss this with you. Do you have a moment?" he said.

"Certainly, Sir. I wasn't aware that..." she stammered a bit, but he'd already interrupted.

"Stand up!" he barked. She immediately thrust her body upward, pushing her chair back behind her.

"Yes, Sir," she said. He handed her a bright, shiny red delicious apple, which she took curiously.

"I have brought what your favorite student might give you, but it is not to praise you. Put it in your mouth and keep it there," he told her.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, taking the apple and opening her mouth to place it between her teeth.

"Now don't damage any more than the skin of it, or you'll pay dearly," he told her. As she acquiesced with her eyes, he crossed around the side of her desk, approaching her from behind. He sauntered behind her, lingering a bit to savor the moment. And to cause her to be watchful, attentive, scared even. She waited what seemed like an eternity, and then she felt his hands on her. His hand slid up from her back to the nape of her neck, and he quickly, forcefully grabbed a tuft of her hair at the base of her neck and pressed her head down. His foot slid in between her legs and he kicked out so she would spread her legs for him, as he pressed her arms out flat on the surface of the desk.

He lifted her skirt over her lower back, revealing her bare ass and her shaved pussy gleamed slightly under the fresh moisture between her supple legs. He reached behind him, grabbing a wooden yardstick from the chalkboard. The first blow landed on the crotch of her upper thighs, where her fine silken legs met the round ass splayed out before him. She winced slightly, not daring to utter a sound. The next blow came before she had time to calculate its arrival, landing above the burning of his first blow. This one nipped the lips of her swollen pussy lips, causing a shudder in her deep in her soul. She closed her eyes and pushed back tears, but she knew that was useless. She would cry before this was over, she knew. She would cry and cum and cum and cry. But she was determined not to damage the apple held in her mouth.

The next blows were delivered with precision and accuracy, both to mark her ass and to slap her juicing cunt. Her mouth oozed saliva. Her cunt simmered under the sting of the ruler. He continued to whip her with the ruler, working the same area over and over until her ass felt on fire. His lashes were so strong, she thought. So much stronger that her, she knew. As she received his lashing, she knew that with each blow she was becoming better. Better for him. Better for knowing her sins are somehow being cleansed by her Master. Then, just as he hit her again with it, she came. The surge of orgasm jolted her, or was it the beating she was taking? Tears flowed silently down her cheeks. He marked her again. She was his now. Any resistance or fear or self awareness that had previously distracted her slipped away through her cum, her tears, her burning ass.

He calmly set the ruler back on the gutter of the chalkboard. She heard his zipper. Then he was inside her. His swollen cock bursting from his work with the ruler thrust into her quickly, forcefully and with utter command. His hands grabbed at her burning ass. His cock slid in and out of her. His loins slamming against her ass as he parried his cock in and out of her hungry, ravaged cunt. She began to move to meet him, as he fucked her there in that classroom, her reddened ass bucking to engage his cock more. He filled her with his cum with a final deep thrust, and she knew his orgasm was his punctuation mark. She had served his cock, and she felt satisfied, happy. And there was not a mark on that gorgeous, red delicious apple.