Betrayal of Trust

Please read the first two chapters before this one. You'll be able to follow the story much better and enjoy it a lot more.

********

Thinking back on that Saturday in Julie's apartment just fueled my arousal even more. Sitting in my car in a driveway of a house I'd never been to before, I wondered what was in store for me. Slumping low in the seat to hide myself from passersby, I looked at myself.

I was naked except for the short little pullover top I had been told to wear. Julie had been very specific with her instructions. She apparently liked the idea of my driving across town, flirting with the possibility of getting caught out in public like this. The little bitch! It probably turned her on. I hated to admit it, but it turned me on, too.

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the car. 4:30. I had another thirty minutes to kill before ringing the bell at the house and finding out what Julie had in store. My heart pounded at the thought of what might be on the other side of that door when I rang the bell. Who would open it and see me like this? Nearly naked. Aroused. Anything but the conservative school teacher that my friends and colleagues had come to know.

My cunt was on fire as I thought how sick and perverse this whole thing was. Being ordered around like a sexual slave by some 18-year-old girl who was barely half my age! My mind told me I should put a stop to it. But my body loved every minute!

I closed my eyes and pictured Julie's tight little body again. It was that image that got me in trouble in the first place... tempting me until I took her that first time at her apartment. I could still taste her sweet juices on my tongue.

My nectar began to literally drip from my burning cunt. My clit was hard, already fully out from its hood. Three fingers slipped easily inside my gaping slit, and I quickly found my g-spot and began to massage and stimulate it.

But the sensations just weren't enough for me in my enflamed state. I looked around the car, desperately seeking something that could satisfy my need to be filled. Nothing. Then I popped open the console and there it was—the flashlight I always kept handy for emergencies.

I reached over, took the silver handle and ran my fingers along the cool metal of the shaft. It must have been nearly 12 inches long, with little ribs set close together running the full length. Without even thinking, I grabbed it with both hands and placed the end at my opening. It must have been about twice as big around as my husband's cock, and my fingers wouldn't quite reach all the way around it.

As if some unseen force was applying the pressure, the shaft began to sink slowly but surely into my wet tunnel. It stretched me a bit, but in my current state of arousal, my cunt just seemed to open up and swallow it. Before long, three-quarters of the length was buried inside me and little more than the part with the glass lens and bulb was sticking out.

I took the ring that secured the lens in place and began to twist, first one way, then the other. The ribbing on the shaft created an amazing sensation on my tender folds, and I heard myself moan softly as I began to settle into a rhythm. Pulling... pushing... twisting... pulling... turning... and so it went as I fucked myself wantonly with the flashlight.

********

The email was waiting for me when I got home that Saturday afternoon after the spanking episode with Julie. I had been so unsettled by the whole jumble of emotions I'd felt during and after I smacked her firm young ass some two dozen times, I couldn't possibly go straight home. I was in no shape to see Dave and act as if nothing was wrong.

So I drove around for probably two hours, time enough I hoped to collect myself. It was after six by the time I got home and Dave greeted me with a worried look. "Jesus, honey, I was worried about you."

"It's okay," I lied. "I was just doing a little shopping." And then I caught myself, realizing I had no packages or bags. "Window shopping. At the mall."

"How about letting me know next time?" he scolded.

"I really am sorry. I just lost track of time."

Eager to avoid any further discussion with Dave for the moment, I went into the spare bedroom we use as a home office and turned on the computer. I didn't spend much time at all online, but I did try to check emails nearly every day because I found it to be a good way to communicate with my students and their parents. And with school just out, there was a good possibility that I might have a few loose ends still to deal with.

I waited for the computer to initialize, then logged onto email. As I scanned down the names in the inbox, I saw one from "hotJulie6969." My heart jumped into my throat and my hands got sweaty. The subject was "looks like fun."

My hands were shaking as I highlighted the message and opened it. It was from Julie all right. "Dear Mrs. Robertson," it read. "I had a lot of fun 2day. Hope u did, 2. I 4got and left my web cam on. Hope u enjoy watching us as much as I did!"

It was signed "Your student, Julie," followed by a smiley face icon.

I honestly thought I was going to throw up. The idea that she might have recorded what went on in her apartment earlier that day scared me to death. It could be the end of my career, my marriage, my life as I currently knew it.

Steeling myself to what I was sure I would see, I clicked on the media icon in the attachment and watched numbly as the entire sick scene unfolded before my eyes. There was Julie sitting on the couch with me. Me grabbing her and pulling her pants down. The spanking. And of course, all the rest that followed.

I couldn't believe the look on my face as I spanked her! It was like watching another person entirely. And then, when she pressed her face between my legs... It was simply too much. I tried to cover my eyes as it played, but I couldn't bear to look away, either.

In a few minutes, I came to my senses and quickly deleted Julie's email. I never wanted to see the thing again! But I knew that Julie still had the file, and I was petrified to think what she might do with it.

I turned off the computer, tore off my clothes and jumped into the shower. I scrubbed much too hard, as if I were trying to rid myself of all the remnants of the day. But even after nearly an hour under the steamy spray, I could still smell Julie's sweet scent in my nostrils.

********

It didn't take long before I found out what Julie planned to do with the video. She was going to use it to fuck with my mind.

Her next email arrived on Sunday afternoon. It read, "Mom leaves 4 work @ noon Mon. Be here 12:30." This time she signed it, "Hugs, Julie," followed by an icon that looked like a little purple devil face.

Then there was the P.S. "Wear a dress/no panties."

I knew I had no choice but to do what Julie said. She didn't threaten to show the video of us to anyone. She didn't have to. We both knew she could do it. And we both knew what would happen. She would be treated as the poor, wronged student. And I would be the soon-to-be registered sex offender.

So after a sleepless Sunday night, I saw Dave off to a full day of class at the university, and got myself ready to go over to Julie's. I decided to wear the same yellow sundress I'd worn the first time I was with her. It had a full skirt and built in bra, and since I was not supposed to wear panties, all I had to do was slip it over my head, adjust my breasts into the snug top, and I was dressed.

I trudged up the steps to Julie's apartment at 12:30 sharp. I didn't even have to ring the bell. Julie must have been watching for me from her window. She flashed a big smile as she waved me inside.

If I hadn't already been so apprehensive, Julie's appearance would certainly have done the trick. There she was, wearing a skin tight leather skirt that hit her about mid-thigh and sporting a pair of knee-high black boots. The high heels made her look much taller than her actual size of just barely over 5-0, but she still stood a good four inches shorter than me. She had completed the ensemble with a black tube top that she must have bought before her boobs grew, because it was much too tight and pressed her rounded globes almost flat against her chest. But the tightness allowed me to see that her nipples were straining to poke through the stretchy fabric.

Her black hair was pulled back tight into a little bun, and she had used black lipstick and eye shadow to emphasize her menacing appearance. She looked as if she had stepped right out of some bd/sm site on the web. My mouth dropped open at the sight of her, but for some reason, the whole scenario all of a sudden struck me as funny. I mean, really . . . here was one of my students, half my age and barely half my size, trying to impersonate some kind of Domme. Despite my initial apprehension, I started to chuckle just a bit. The laughter didn't last long, however, when Julie's face clouded with anger and I remembered the video. I also noticed what she was holding in her right hand.

It was a wooden brush with a long handle, probably nearly two feet. The head was round and about six inches in diameter. White bristles stood stiffly from the wooden base. It was way too big for a hair brush. It must have been a back brush for people who have trouble washing certain spots without assistance. Despite its benign function, it had a menacing appearance when held by my student/domme, who undoubtedly intended to apply it vigorously to my ass.

"Hello, Mrs. Robertson," Julie greeted me. "I'm glad you came over to play today."

"Did I really have any choice, dear?" My tone was sarcastic, and it was clear Julie didn't like it.

"Shut up!" she barked at me, her face stern, eyes burning.

I felt my stomach jump at her sudden change in demeanor. I wasn't sure if she was playing a role or if she was really angry. Actually, I wasn't sure about anything any more.

"Go over to the end of the couch," she ordered, and I walked slowly over to where I'd sat and paddled her little bottom just two days ago. This time, it looked as if the tables were going to be turned. "Pull up your dress and bend over the arm," she instructed brusquely.

I did as she said, and settled my belly against the arm of the sofa. I leaned forward until my elbows were resting on the cushions and my feet were barely touching the floor. Naturally, my bare bottom was thrust well up in the air, just right for what Julie had planned.

My breaths were beginning to come faster, and I felt myself begin to lubricate. Those little butterflies were taking over my stomach like they always do when I'm in the early stages of arousal.

"You liked spanking me the other day, didn't you, Mrs. Robertson? Julie cooed.

I just lay there quietly, my heart pounding in my chest. "Didn't you!" she screamed. Her tone actually frightened me a little bit, even though I was sure this was all a game to her. Wasn't it?

"Yes... I suppose I did," I responded, my voice quivering slightly.

"It made you hot, didn't it?" By this time, Julie was running the flat side of the wooden brush lightly over my backside. "It made your pussy wet." Then she turned the head of the brush on its edge and ran it up and down my crack, spreading the cheeks just a little with each up and down motion.

"Well, I think you're going to like it even more being on the other end." And without further warning, she drew her arm back and brought the flat wooden head of the brush crashing down on my exposed flesh. The impact sounded like a gunshot and literally took my breath away. My eyes filled with tears and my right cheek burned like fire.

"Wait just a minute," I demanded, standing up to my full 5-8 and looking down on this little girl who thought she was going to spank my ass. I was angry, at Julie for pushing things too far and at myself for allowing it. Startled by the look on my face, Julie took one step back, but didn't retreat any farther. She knew she had the ultimate weapon on her side.

"Who do you want to see the video first?" she demanded. "Your husband or the principal?"

My shoulders slumped at those words. At least it was now out in the open. I was officially being blackmailed. Without another word, I turned back around and lay over the couch once more.

"That's better, Mrs. Robertson. I knew you'd enjoy playing with me."

And without another word, Julie began raining blow after blow down on my tender bottom. The hard surface of the brush alternated from one cheek to the other, the loud cracks echoing throughout the apartment. After the fourth swat, my bottom was on fire! Tears were running down my cheeks and my throat hurt from holding in the sobs that were trying to escape.

But Julie was far from through. Six... eight... ten. I finally lost count at a dozen. But there were at least five or six more before she finally finished. When I was sure she was through, I started to push myself up by my hands from the couch. I needed to rub my aching bottom, to try and soothe the pain that Julie had so eagerly and expertly inflicted.

But before I could stand, I heard her again. But her voice was different this time. Much softer. "Stay there, please, "she whispered. And I slumped back down again, my burning ass still in the air.

To my surprise, Julie began to kiss my stinging bottom all over, very lightly and tenderly. Her warm breath actually felt cool to my burning flesh. Then she began to caress me lightly with her hands, soothing the tender skin, seemingly trying to comfort me. I let out a heavy sigh and relaxed more than at any time since I'd entered the apartment some thirty minutes earlier. I realized that the spanking had indeed aroused me and I allowed that tingling feeling to spread from deep in my belly outward until I could feel the need in every extremity.

Just then, Julie's hands were replaced with something hard pressing between my cheeks. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that she was using the wooden handle of the brush to trace up and down the length of my crack. My juices were practically running down my legs by this time, and each time Julie moved the handle lower, she'd slip it just inside my lips and moisten the tip. Then she'd drag the moisture back and use it to lubricate the tender flesh all along my crack.

After a half dozen trips like that, my ass was nearly as wet as my pussy, and the handle of the brush glided easily over the slick flesh. Finally, Julie paused, with the handle poised against the tight ring of my anus. And she began to push... gently at first, but with increasing pressure.

I started to protest, but the only sound that escaped my parted lips was a low moan. Julie took that as a sound of approval, and pushed harder still, until finally the rounded end of the handle stretched me far enough to slide through into my most secret place. My little rosebud gripped it tightly and slowed its progress for a few moments. But Julie was patient, and when she felt me relax, she began to push once more, this time twisting the handle as she went.

The intense pressure literally lifted my feet from the floor and caused my belly to press harder into the arm of the sofa. In turn, it made it harder for me to breathe. I was gasping, panting with arousal, with pain, with shame. I was being sodomized by my senior English student, who had just administered the spanking of my life. And I was loving every minute of it!

Finally, Julie stopped her assault and allowed the handle to rest, probably six inches or so inside my tight tunnel. My walls molded around it, and I could feel the little spasms begin as my orgasm approached. The walls of my pussy were beginning to pulse and contract and started a chain reaction that caused my ring to grip the brush handle even tighter.

The sensations began tumbling one over the other, like a boulder rolling down a steep hill. There was absolutely no stopping it. Realizing I was close, Julie thrust two fingers inside my dripping cunt and began to massage my spot vigorously. With the other, she twisted the handle in my ass, first one way, then the other. Over and over again until I opened my mouth to scream and found that I didn't even have the strength to do that.

My contractions washed over me in waves, engulfing me totally, before receding slightly and claiming me completely once more. Every muscle of my body was taught, and the electric jolts of pleasure exploded from deep in my throbbing cunt, taking possession of my entire body. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was Julie's voice.

"That's it, Mrs. Robertson... that's my good little slut."

********

Over the course of the next month or so, Julie controlled me almost completely. I couldn't believe that she had consciously learned the art of domination at her young age. It must have come so naturally to her that she instinctively knew what to do. About once a week, she would send me an email with another "assignment," as she liked to call them.

They varied in nature, but all of them were designed to expose me potentially to public humiliation, at best, and legal action, at worst. Of course, each and every "assignment" turned me on incredibly.

The instructions would arrive by email. And each time I saw a message from "hotJulie6969," my heart would leap into my throat, my pulse would pound... and my pussy would get wet. The first one called for me to go out to the local mall, sit on a bench near the food court, and touch myself until I climaxed. Of course, Julie would come along to watch and enjoy the proceedings.

I decided to wear a long, full skirt that day, in order to provide ready access to my pussy, while perhaps providing a little extra material to cover myself. I intentionally dispensed with my panties to make things a bit more accessible. I picked Julie up at her apartment and drove to the mall. She was smiling and talking as if we were going on some kind of a field trip, while my legs felt like jelly as I walked through the parking lot toward the mall entrance. Julie followed behind so as not to make it appear that we were together.

Once inside, I quickly found the bench that she intended for me to use. It was mid-afternoon and the mall was quite busy. I had to wait about 15 minutes for some other shoppers to vacate the bench so I could take my place. I was pleased when I sat down to note that the benched faced away from most of the shoppers who were passing by.

I sat there for maybe five minutes, occasionally glancing up to find Julie, who was standing near the entrance to an Old Navy store watching me intently. Finally, I took a deep breath and began to slide my left hand along my leg and underneath my skirt. As my hand drifted farther upward, I tugged at my hem to keep as much of myself covered as possible. Of course, anyone watching me closely would be able to tell what I was doing. But, thankfully, most people seemed to be preoccupied with their own pursuits that afternoon.

As my hand reached the junction between my thighs, I could already feel the heat radiating from my pussy. I was incredibly turned on and the insides of my thighs were already wet. The first touch of fingers to clit were electric. I had never done anything so blatantly whorish before, and my body was responding eagerly.

Not knowing how much time I had before someone noticed me, I glanced up at Julie again and began to furiously rub my clit. I was already close, simply from the situation and my initial touches, and I knew it was going to be a big orgasm. I locked my eyes on Julie's as my fingers rubbed faster, and I saw her lick her lips as she watched me closely. Just then, another figure crossed into my line of sight. It was a former student whom I remembered having in class a couple of years before. When he first saw me, he smiled in recognition, but as soon as he got a good look at me, his face changed first to puzzlement, then to astonishment. He stood dead in his tracks watching me right along with Julie.