Mrs. Winters sat behind her desk, typing up a disciplinary report about today's fight in the cafeteria. Two boys had apparently gotten heated after one insulted the others' mother, and fists were thrown. As the vice principal at Westmont High School, it was her job to file these reports and dole out discipline, and after seven long years she had gotten quite good at it.
The blonde Mrs. Winters started out as an English teacher at Westmont and excelled, so much so that the district decided to promote her to vice principal when she was 33—which is impressive, considering she had her first child at age 18 and took two years off before college. Mrs. Winters' appeal to students had always been one of a, "Pull yourself up by the bootstraps" appeal. She'd gone through the thick of it, she'd made all the mistakes these high schoolers will make, and here she is.
Now, at 40, she was humming right along. She married to an engineer, had another kid—oldest now 22, youngest 18—and worked to be the best at everything she could. She was extremely fit for her age and boxed for workouts, another blue collar appeal, and implemented an extremely rigid schedule. Her blonde hair now lay shoulder length, curling towards the ends, a sharp chin and pronounced cheekbones gave her an angular and mean face, only punctuated by her bright blue eyes. The workouts kept her body in a perfect hourglass figure, too. Her ass was round and bouncy, her C-cup tits barely sagged after two children. Her waist was tight and her abs were pronounced.
For a 40 year old, she was hot. And she knew it, the looks on every boy's face who sat in the chair across from her confirmed it. Even when she was doling out suspensions and expulsions, their eyes continuously drooped down to her chest. When she walked the hall in a skirt, every boy—and some girls—would watch her hips sway.
So it was no surprise that when she interrogated the two boys who fought in the cafeteria today, neither of them were really focused on what she was saying. Oh well, both received two day suspensions. And she wrote as much in her report.
When Mrs. Winters finished the report, she checked the clock—perfect timing. It was 3:30, half an hour after the school day ends. Packing up her stuff into her brief case, she tidied the desk and closed the blinds before pulling out a phone.
It wasn't her main phone, she didn't even buy it, but these days it was the one she used the most. Unlocking it she opened up her text messages with the only contact in it: Master.
Underneath a profile picture of a 7-inch cock, there read a stream of messages, the last of which read, "At 3:30, you will be naked, handcuffed and gagged on your knees, facing the door." Complying with the order, Mrs. Winters neatly folded her clothes and placed them into her work backpack. Then, opening up the locked drawer in her desk, she pulled out the handcuffs and gag from a drawer, sifting through whips, lube, rope, dildos, clamps and much more. Now, kneeled in front of the unlocked door, her pussy dripping and the feeling of the buttplug pushing against her ass, Mrs. Winters waited for her Master to come into the room.
After what felt like an hour, she finally saw the door open and her Master come into view. The 18 year old, Michael, took two steps before slapping the slut. And then again.
"Stand up slut and turn around for inspection," he said.
Mrs. Winters did as she was bid, not a second thought in her mind. After passing inspection, Michael directed her to bend over, hands on the desk. His cock was out as soon as she was in position and without so much as a warning, it was speared inside her, all 7 inches. Mrs. Winters moaned through her gag as he brutally used her, not a thought in his mind about the 40 year old principal.
After a couple of minutes of the brutal fucking, Michael pulled out and told her to grab the whip from the desk. Obliging, Mrs. Winters handed it to her Master before laying her back on the desk, legs spread in the air, ready to take his cock again. This time, while Michael fucked her, he whipped her pierced tits, leaving red streaks all across her chest. It wasn't long until he came to orgasm, pulling out to spread his seed all over his territory.
"Don't clean up and put your clothes back on slut," Michael commanded.
Nodding, Mrs. Winters moved around, wincing slightly from the burning sensation on her tits, and started putting her skirt and blouse back on. She hadn't worn panties or a bra to school for five years, since her first Master had taken ownership over her. Still, she left and returned to the house every day with her bra on in an attempt to keep her family in the dark about her second life.
Fully dressed, with her white blouse sticking to her chest from the cum, she stood in front of her Master with the gag in her mouth.
"Tonight you'll meet me at our usual rendezvous point at 8:30, slut." Michael said, putting his own pants back on. "From there, we'll go add to your artwork. Today you're getting a tongue piercing to go along with your nipples and clit. Come fully dressed in your uniform."
Mrs. Winters nodded, her mind going to how she was going to convince her husband she wanted to get a tongue piercing. The nipples and clit were hidden, and Greg (her husband) loved them anyways—they seemed to increase her sex drive—but a tongue was a whole new problem.
"Great. Walk out of here and drive home with the gag in, I want photo proof. When you get home, you're allowed to take the plug out to use the restroom. Like always, though, you have to send proof of it with it in your mouth during the whole thing. Understood?"
Mrs. Winters nodded again and Michael left her office. Moving back toward her desk, she logged back onto the computer and continued to do some other work, her mind drifting through the busy work, worried about how she would convince her husband that she wanted tongue piercings.
The nipple piercings were easy, and she'd gotten them a long time ago. Two weeks after she first submitted, actually. Almost five years to the day.
***
Her first Master was John, a high school senior who was a constant visitor in her office all throughout his four years of high school. Mrs. Winters and John knew each other well, and grew a kind of respect for each other over the four years he was in high school, but every time they met would end poorly for John.
John was a smart student, Mrs. Winters knew, he just never applied himself. And his last two years of high school he spent half the day off at the technical school, working with computers. That's where the trouble started for Mrs. Winters. He bugged her work computer, and her personal one, getting onto their systems and tracking everything she did. At first, there wasn't much to report.
And then one night, he hit a jackpot. She was emailing another man, with a hidden email, and she was his "slave." She did almost anything he asked her to, sending him all kinds of lewd and compromising photos. John downloaded all of them.
When he first confronted her it was a rocky situation. Two strong-willed people fought for dominance, but by the end Mrs. Winters was on her knees, sucking John's dick.
Rapidly, the situation evolved. Until Mrs. Winters' submissive nature overpowered her will as a vice principal. To mark the occasion, when she finally allowed him to use her ass, John ordered her to get nipple piercings. Two loops, perfect for a chain to go through.
When Mrs. Winters told her husband about them that night, he was overjoyed. He'd secretly always wanted her to have them.
What he didn't know, though, was that after the nipple piercings she was never quite the same. She didn't think of herself as a vice principal, a wife or a mother. She though of herself as a slave. To be used as an object only for cocks.
