Jack Hanson sat at his desk, writing notes about the day's students. He made sure to record every detail about every girl that graced his classroom. His notes included what they wore, how they acted, who they touched, how they touched them, how smart they were, how desperate they were, and the chance they'd submit to him in detention.
The last bell rang. In ten minutes, a new one was coming. Putting away today's notes, Jack grabbed the ones he needed. One stupid student, willing to do whatever he wanted, thinking there wasn't an alternative.
Sarah bounced in five minutes before detention started. Her large, perky breasts were held on display by the tight t-shirt she wore, stopping three inches above her waist, with the words "touch 'em, I dare ya'" in red letters over the black cloth. The matching black skirt stopped five inches above the knee, and displayed the words "Spank me" on the back as she turned to her seat. He would take her up on both offers.
She had finally turned eighteen, the only one of society's restrictions he followed. He had been raised to believe that it wasn't right to touch anyone younger, and he stuck to that. The sluts showed their true nature at a younger age, and deserved whatever came their way, but the age was sacred. He never broke that rule.
The slut had earned herself a night with Master Jack for dress code violations and in school acts of lewdness, as they liked to call it. He called it a training pass. After today only one of those would be an issue.
After Sarah sat down, Jack walked to the door, carefully studying her face. The skin had a flawless quality to it, her straight blonde hair framed it well before it ran down her back, and most importantly, he could sense she had an unfulfilled craving for sex. Locking the door, he turned to her.
"Do you know my favorite thing about this room," he asked, "it's the fact that it's completely soundproof. No matter how loud you yell, no one can hear you," answering his own question, "and the fact that this door is the only way out, and I have the key, is also nice."
Sarah looked at him and smiled. "I've had dreams about you, Mr. Hanson, and if you'd like to make them come true, I'll be glad to assist you whenever you ask." She put stress on "assist", making it painfully obvious what she really meant.
Looking deep into her eyes, Jack crouched right in front of her desk. "Tell me Sarah, what would you most like me to do and what should I never do?"
The excitement was bursting out of Sarah's eyes. She could barely contain herself. "Go down on me Mr. Hanson! Please!" Pausing she added, "but my ass is no place for a cock."
Jack backhanded her, leaving a large red mark on her cheek. "Listen you pathetic whore, this is the way things work. When you are here, I am your Master. You will address me as such, you will follow my orders, and you will enjoy it. When you leave here, you will know nothing of this. Do you understand slut?"
Sarah swallowed slowly. "Yes... Master." She looked down at her lap, wishing she could leave.
"There's one more thing. My pleasure is your greatest concern. Keep me happy, and I'll treat you better. Don't take this as a sign to be a perfectly obedient bitch, doing exactly what I say, and nothing else. You need to please me without my asking, and know when to resist a little. Screwing up will only cause you pain."
Sarah panicked. She didn't know what to do. "How will I know when to disobey you?"
"You don't disobey, you delay. Once sometimes, twice other times. Three earns a spank, at least. Figure when out for yourself. Now bitch, I want some entertainment." Jack walked back to his desk, and sat down. "Dance for me bitch. Show me how you live to pleasure your superiors."
Sarah walked to his desk, wearing her best smile. She placed her leg his chair, giving him a partial view up her skirt. When Mr. Hanson looked up it, she quickly pulled her leg back, spinning around so her skirt went up. As he saw the back of her panties, he slapped her ass hard.
Almost enjoying it, she held her ass just over his lap, moving gently as she felt his cock harden. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her breasts. Moving his hands away, she put her knees on the chair, straddling his lap. Kissing him, she undid the knot of his tie, and tossed it away.
Jack rubbed the bitch's back as she unbuttoned his shirt with her mouth, slowly moving each button out with her tongue. It was clear the bitch had done this before. When the last button was undone, he leaned forward so she could slide it off.
Sarah spun his shirt around over her head before tossing it away, kissing him. He felt her excited tongue explore his mouth, massaging hers as she did. Her hands ran through his hair, gripping his head tightly. Moving his hands down, he rubbed her ass, slapping it occasionally.
She felt Mr. Hanson push her back, maintaining the kiss as long as she could. His eyes said he had enjoyed the kiss, and she started to move in for another one. Pushed away again, she stopped.
"Beg for my dick, bitch," Mr. Hanson was smiling as he ordered her, "Beg as if touching your Master's cock is the only thing you desire, and will die without it."
"Please Mr. Hanson," she started, but was promptly slapped hard across her face, knocking her down. He was angry, and she didn't understand.
"I am your Master, and you shall address me as such. Fail to do so, and you will feel pain greater than anything you have felt before. There will not be any mercy on the third failure. It will be your last mistake."
"Master, let me please your cock. Let me touch the greatness of it, and bring you to orgasm. Let me touch an object that must be made from the gods." She nearly vomited as she spoke that last sentence.
"Yes, it is made by God, and you should thank me for letting you touch its greatness."
"Thank you, Master." She took her hands to his pants, unbuttoning them, and with a mix of fear and excitement, she lowered the zipper. He aided her, pulling them off along with his underwear.
His cock sprang to life, standing erect at a good eight inches, proud and ready for action. It was wide, more than an inch in diameter. She felt an urge wash over her, craving it like she never had before.
She placed her mouth on the tip, gently kissing Master's amazing form. Her heart raced as she began to take it into her mouth, licking it slowly. Taking her hands, she gently rubbed his balls. Closing her eyes, she moved her head farther down, clamping her lips and sucking vigorously.
The taste of his skin was wonderful. She rubbed her tongue around the head, feeling it warm as she sucked. His balls tightened as she rubbed, preparing what might be the last taste of her life.
Her enjoyment of his cock was interrupted by a hard slap, and having her head pulled away by her hair. Looking up into her Master's eyes, she waited patiently for his word.
"Hold your face over my cock, and let my cum land on it. When I have finished, you will swallow what remains on me, and wait for further instructions."
She obediently placed her head close to him, vigorously masturbating him with both hands, hoping to get it over sooner. She hated cum, and rarely went as far as letting it into her mouth. She had sworn to never swallow, and wished it could remain that way.
It didn't. Cum splattered all over her face, and more remained on his cock, enough to completely cover the head. She slowly went down, licking it off slowly to not anger him. The taste was horrible; bitter and salty. She choked it down, and started to wipe her face, but was smacked hard on the side of her head.
"My cum is to remain on your face until you are granted the joy of swallowing it," he ordered, "Now go to the closet and find a way to please me. I expect something good from you, bitch. You have proven yourself to show at least some competence."
"Yes Master," her voice weakened, "and thank you for the compliment."
Sarah stumbled to the back of the room, shaking as she moved. Nearly falling, she heard Master yell something about not bruising his new property. She started to cry, scared of what he might do. Would she even live to see tomorrow?
Opening the closet, she could see she was far from the first person to be controlled by Master. The closet was filled with clothing, outfits ranging from sexy clothing to fetish-wear. Above that was a rack with hats, ears, tails, and anything else you could wear during foreplay. On the right were shelves filled with various toys, some labeled "for Master's use only", and one box that couldn't be opened.
Sarah wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign. He had obviously been doing this for years, and getting away with it. She had lived here all her life, and never heard of any murders or disappearances. She'd go home, but Master would do something to make her stay quiet. Was that the better option?
She pondered what Master would like best. Maybe if she did a good enough job, he'd let her go. She slapped her forehead. If he liked it, he'd definitely be back for more.
"Don't damage my property, bitch," Jack yelled, "That's my job." Sarah shivered again. She may live, but today would hurt.
She turned back to the closet, wondering what to pick. She started to think about doing a bad job, but stopped herself, and made sure not to slap her forehead. That would be worse than doing a good job. She had to aim for mediocre. Good enough that he'd be entertained, but nothing special enough to bring back.
