When we returned to my apartment, Mistress had me strip to my lingerie. I was starting to feel almost more comfortable dressed like this than in my regular clothes. I was less restricted, and knowing I was doing do so to serve her made me feel good. It was almost 7 o'clock, and we had not eaten dinner. I got Mistress a glass of wine, and then began to make her dinner. She sat at the dining room table with my copy of her class's textbook, and she was flipping through it. I don't know exactly what she was looking for or reading, but I tried not to dwell on it, and focused on dinner.
I decided to make her a steak. I had it under the broiler while I prepared some vegetables. It didn't take long to prepare, and in 20 minutes, I had her dinner on the table, and I knelt next to her.
"Good, my pet. You are doing so well," she purred as she cut off a piece of the steak. "Mmm...just right. My compliments to the chef."
I felt a warmth in my chest, and my face when she praised my cooking. I noticed her wine glass was nearly empty, so I poured her some more wine, then resumed my position next to her on the floor. Like she had previously, every few bites, she fed me a bite to eat. While she ate, she began to quiz me on some of the topics in the math book. She had found a couple problems that I couldn't even come close to without the aid of a calculator or at least some scratch paper and a pencil.
"Well, my pet. If you can't do these problems, how do you expect your students to do them?" she asked.
"I...um...well...those are problems that we will use a calculator to solve. I can explain how to solve them, but I cannot give you an answer without the calculator," I explained. I didn't think she really expected me to be able to calculate square roots and exponents in my head, but I still feared that somehow, she was going to punish me for my failure.
"I do hope that you don't struggle so much when you are in front of the class," she said, looking down at me with a disapproving look on her face. She proceeded to ask me more questions, but like she did in class, she left the book, and started asking me questions that were well outside the scope of the curriculum. I did my best to explain the concepts and process required to solve the problems, but at times, I was at a loss. Somehow, Mistress knew more math than I did, and she clearly was enjoying putting me in my place.
"Mistress, may I ask you a question?" I asked meekly.
"Yes, of course my pet. Like you say, there are no stupid questions," she replied, doing her best Mr. Daniels-teacher voice.
"You know enough math to teach this class. Frankly, I think you know enough math to teach any of the courses at school. What are you doing in my class? Why aren't you AP Calculus or maybe even taking courses at the University?"
She looked at me, her fork frozen halfway toward her mouth with a piece of steak on it. She considered this for a moment, then put her fork back on the plate, took a breath, then answered.
"I move too often, and therefore, I do not have the credits on my transcript. I do know more math than you, and perhaps the other teachers as well. I've always known more math than anyone I know ever since I was a little girl. I don't know why, but I do. That always caused me problems growing up. Socially, that is. Boys don't like to be shown up by the girls, especially in math class. So, I find it easier to play the part of an average student in math class. However, when I first saw you, somehow I knew that you were going to be my pet. So, I've made sure to keep my grades consistent with my past grades, so that I can play with you in class. I do enjoy watching you try to answer my questions."
Her answer was the most information I had learned about her in the months that I had known her. She turned to me, and fed me another bite, smiling at me. I was hers, and I realized that when the year was over, I was not sure what I would do when she graduated. She finished her meal in silence, and when she had taken the last sip of her wine, she stood and walked to the bedroom. I heard her moving about, but I waited kneeling by the table until she asked for me.
"Pet, come here," she called.
I went to her quickly. She had spread out the new purchases on the bed.
"You should remove the tags from these, then put them away. Choose one for tonight. You should sleep in these from now on. You can keep your panties on, but remove your garter and stockings of course. That should be more comfortable for you for sleep. When you are done, you will attend to me before I go home. I want you in your bedtime outfit." She left the room while I cut off tags, and made room for my new purchases. She returned as I was removing my garter and stockings. I slipped a pink silk camisole over my head and shoulders. It slid over my skin, and I felt myself getting hard again. The pink silk matched my pink thong. Mistress walked over to me, and brushed her fingers over my chest, spending a little extra time on my nipples.
"Very nice. Now you are my little slut, aren't you? My dirty little slut in her sexy lingerie. Kneel before me." As I was moving to my knees, I heard a zipper. On my knees in front of her, I saw her skirt was on the floor, and she was pulling her t-shirt over her head to reveal a matching black lace bra and thong. She still had her boots on, and the ensemble had its desired effect on me. My cock was straining to escape the fabric of my thong, and I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I looked up at her, and felt myself burning with desire to be taken by her.
She reached down, and pulled my cock free from the thong. She stroked it a few times, then a sudden bolt of pain as she slapped my cock. She grabbed my balls, and squeezed them, just enough that I took gasped, and held my breath waiting for the pain. She smiled knowing that she now had me by the balls, literally. With her other hand, she caressed my chest and my nipples through the smooth silk of the camisole.
"I bet my dirty little slut wants to cum, doesn't she? Well, I'm not sure she's earned that yet. Would you like to earn an orgasm, slut?" she hissed into my ear.
