Teacher Is Mistaken Ch 15

Angela shuffled back to her room after muted goodbyes to her friends. Each of them was happy and embarrassed for different reasons. All she could think about was those two young guys taking her mother. While in a state of rapturous pleasure, she hadn't been able to prevent it, though she would still be in real trouble for letting it happen, when her father returned home.

By the time she noticed the two of them using her helpless mother, it was too late. They hadn't realised who it was they were using like a common whore. What could she have done? Shouted at her friends to stop fucking her mother? Should she have pleaded with them to pull their cocks from her mother's mouth and pussy?

Damn it! Her father had left her in charge, as mistress of the home and the slaves. It should have been another stage in her training experience, yet it ended in a disaster. She had let everyone down.

The damn teacher had been fucked by one of her students, which wasn't too bad, except for her. The guy loved fucking his teacher, though he pretended not to recognise her.

Angela collapsed on the bed sobbing a flood of tears.

Hollie stared at her mistress, unable to feel sorry for the harridan.

***

Angela was supposed to be her mistress, and taking care of her for Roger. Yet the nasty girl had spanked her, and stripped her naked before the young eighteen year old guests. They had laughed at the large hoop earrings, taking a great delight in reading the words slut, dangling from them. They recognised her as a slut, not as a professional teacher.

They had thoroughly humiliated her by playing with the piercings in her nipples and pussy lips. One of her students, Mark had been playing with her slave collar, working the chains pulling on her sex.

The look of recognition in Mark's eyes, while she stood naked before him, still whirled through her head. She had been stoked up by the humiliation of being a sexual plaything for these adolescents to taunt. Breathing heavily, almost ready to orgasm, he looked at her closely, and recognised her as his teacher. The awful look of shock on his face left her feeling small and insignificant. All she could do was obediently let him play with her body, while the cruel adolescents goaded him on.

Angela demonstrated her dominance by ordering Hollie to lick her mistress's pussy, in front of everyone. When Hollie felt a cock enter her, she just knew it was Mark. Burying her face in Angela's sopping pussy was the only escape. When Angela roughly pushed her away, she crawled off to the bedroom, like a naughty pet bitch, with a tail between her legs.

***

Deciding this might be an opportunity to escape, Hollie took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She crawled from the closet where she had been hiding.

"Mistress, are you alright?" she asked, putting on a sound of concern.

"No!" Angela angrily retorted.

Hollie stroked her hair and nestled her like a child, feeling a hypocrite from the distaste she felt for the girl.

"Get some sleep, you'll feel a lot better in the morning," she soothingly spoke. Not understanding the girl's mumbled complaints, she was nevertheless pleased to hear her quieten down. Eventually her breathing subsided until she began to snore.

Hollie quietly slipped away, relieved not to be blamed for whatever Angela was angry about. On the deep pile carpet she silently made her way along the corridor, passing the mother's bedroom. Peering in she saw the woman spread out on a king sized bed, still wearing the tight leather bodysuit, with the crotch pulled open. A glance was enough to see she was deeply involved in a sexual fantasy.

***

Bridget was furious over her daughter's misuse of her. She understood why her husband had left their daughter in charge of the home and her, but it was still demeaning to be her daughter's slave. She shouldn't have been serving at the party, even though her face had been covered, so she wasn't recognised.

Her daughter should have remained aloof from it all, so as to look after her two slaves. Instead she became involved and lost control, letting two of her friend's sons take advantage. They had given her no choice. The two adolescents had roughly taken her with the vigour of youth, driving their cocks hard into her body.

She lay back with eyes closed, slowly rubbing the boys leaking cum over her engorged pussy lips. She pouted her lips to suck a sperm wet finger, remembering the other boy roughly fucking her mouth. She tasted their bitter sex juice, revelling in the appalling use of her body by two, young virile men. This time it was a slow stimulation of her senses, for a prolonged build to a powerful orgasm.

***

Hollie quietly left her to it, making her way downstairs. With both women out of the way she could explore the master's library. She hesitated on the threshold of the powerful male dominion. It smelt of polished leather, with a background layer of cigar smoke, laced with single malt whisky.

Hollie jumped back a step when a clock chimed. It was getting late, with little time to be worried about an empty room. Overcoming the fright spurred her on. Heading straight to the large old fashioned desk, she defiantly pulled the chair from the desk's well, obviously positioned by the master of the house. Sliding each draw in turn she found nothing of importance. Her heart began to flutter at the prospect of the vital items being locked in a safe.

At the back of the bottom left draw, was a package. Carefully slitting open a brown envelope, with an ornate paperknife, she tipped the contents onto the green leather desktop. Three keys sparkled among the papers. The sudden metallic noise sounded loud in the quiet muffled room, startling her. Taking a deep breath she reached for the documents, and stuffed them back into the envelope.

She sat on the edge of the chair, with legs spread, hoping these were the ones she needed. With both hands to steady the shakes, she matched a key to a lock. It didn't fit. She took the other key and tried it on one of the wrist cuffs. "Damn!" she quietly exclaimed.

Realising her mistake she guided the key to a tiny lock at her crotch. The hand shook too much to enter the hole. One hand shook the lock, and the key trembled in the other. "Get a grip! You stupid little slave girl," Hollie fiercely told herself.

The key at last slid into the bottom of the lock. She had to suppress a cry of joy when it turned. A knuckle caught her lips, and without thinking she touched her sex. Before she could think to stop, her finger was worming its way inside, with a thumb pressing upon her swollen bud.

She lifted her legs upon the desk, spreading them wide, while frigging her pussy hard. A few strokes and she silently climaxed. Breathing heavily she was at least relieved to find her hands no longer shook. Finding she was still so very sensitive proved to be an added problem.

Carefully she pulled the chains from between her legs, running them between two fingers, to prevent contact with her sex. Though her nipples were sensitive, pulling them through the piercing rings wasn't so fraught with danger. Now the ends were loose she could at last pull them through the slave collar loop.

Almost free!

The first key she pushed into a cuff lock, and turned it. She rubbed her free wrist vigorously, delighting at the wonderful feeling. The other wrist was unlocked then quickly the ankle locks were opened, freeing her of the Sirik chains. They dangled heavily from the slave collar as a potent symbol of her status. Threading the chains carefully through the collar, the balance suddenly shifted. The links rattled through the loop to pool in a heap at her feet.

Hollie slumped back onto the chair, feeling weak and so very happy. A big smile lit her face for the first time in days. It felt like weeks. She was free of her slave chains, though the feeling of being enslaved would take far longer to shake off.

Leaning back in the chair she began to realise there was no going back now. She would have to make her escape. Where was Roger? She tapped a keyboard to find the computer was alive, and still signed on with Angela's profile. A list of emails appeared, though nothing from Roger was listed.

Her slave name Cindy was in the title of the latest email. Hesitating from the need to run and escape, she nevertheless clicked on it to see the content. She gasped, and read the damning document again. Angela had arranged for her to be collected tomorrow morning, by a Pony Training master!

Hollie sat back in the chair, playing back in her mind all that had been said about such a strict training regime. "The fucking bitch!" Hollie exclaimed. The uncharacteristic curse awoke a deep latent anger. All that the girl had done to her came flooding into her mind, demanding retribution.

Hollie walked into Angela's bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. The girl was on her back with mouth wide, snoring with the sound of a jet engine. She pinched a nipple to rouse her. Angela was bigger, and stronger, so she had to be careful.

"Here, drink this, you must be dry," Hollie quietly encouraged.

Without a thank you, or the slightest acknowledgement, Angela knocked back the fruit juice. She turned over and fell back to sleep.

Hollie was pleased with the adolescent tendency to need plenty of sleep, as it made the task so much easier. Watching the nasty girl for a moment from the doorway, she turned away at last feeling safe, and made her way to the mother's room.

She too was asleep, with a hand clamped between her thighs. The leather crotch had been pulled apart revealing her sex. The leather and her pussy were covered in strong, acrid smelling juices. The drying mess encrusted the leather and the woman's hand.

"Here, drink this and have a good sleep," Hollie told Bridget. She hoped using a firm tone of voice would get the woman to respond without question. In a state of drowsiness Bridget responded, by sipping the juice then quenched her thirst with a lusty swallow.

She murmured something about her damned daughter, without opening her eyes, and fell back into a deep sleep.

Hollie took the glass out with her, knowing she wouldn't be disturbed for the rest of the night. The sleeping draft was powerful enough to keep an elephant dozy.

Returning to her arch rival she set to work, looking through the girl's toy box and closet. With a pile of objects on the floor, she was ready. Gently turning her over, Hollie carefully undressed her.

Standing back she admired the new image. This young girl had kept her as a sex slave, punishing her until she was willing to obey every demeaning demand. Angela knew full well Hollie was a teacher and an adult, choosing to treat her like a stupid little pet, instead of looking after her for Roger. It wasn't his fault she had fallen into this girl's devious trap.

Now it was Angela who was dressed in chains, as a slave rather than a mistress, just as she deserved. This wasn't enough of a retribution for all that had been suffered. The girl was laying on her side, with both arms and legs drawn up her back by the Sirik. She eased the ball gag harness over the new slave's head. Pinching her nose, Hollie placed the ball in the open mouth, and tightened the harness, locking it snugly in her mouth.

Angela loudly snorted and started to wake. Her eyes flickered then closed, as she began noisily sucking air through her nose, with saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

Hollie reached down to the floor for a toy. Easing the girl's legs apart she stroked then probed her sex. Rubbing in lubrication as she went, her fingers opened up the girl's pussy, enough to smoothly insert a rubber dildo. She did the same for her asshole. This time with less trouble spent on opening it up. The muffled grunting revealed she was in pain, but she didn't fully wake.

Hollie again wondered if her own pussy would recover from that night of torment, with two vibrators inside her body. They had worked away at her all night, leaving her pussy so sensitive, the slightest touch brought her to a state of deep arousal. This girl deserved what was planned. Rather than just leave her trusted up like this, Hollie decided to thoroughly teach her a lesson.

Back in the mother's bedroom, she had to make sure the woman didn't interfere with her plans. She eased the woman's legs together, and tightened the ankle cuffs. Turning her over, Hollie fastened the wrist cuffs behind her back. A bright red ball gag matched the red flashes of leather emphasising her sex.

The woman's vagina was still wet and leaking, so she fetched a dildo and shoved it in. The woman grunted from this rude intrusion to her body, but didn't stir much. Hollie pulled the red leather over her sex sealing in the dildo. In her sleep she flexed her thighs, gripping the dildo, probably in some favourite fantasy.

Hollie set to work in the woman's closet, rejecting most of the clothes as the woman was taller, and bigger busted than she was. It was no good there was nothing to fit her there.

Returning to Angela's room she was relieved to find the sleeping draft working, for the girl slept heavily. This time she found exactly what she was looking for in Angela's closet.

Hollie sat at the old fashioned desk in the master's study, examining papers from an envelope found earlier. Roger had provided the keys to her slave chains, though not the collar. A note stated he intended to contact the manufacturer for a copy. Damn! She was stuck with the slave collar for life, if she didn't get a key! He mentioned a serial number, but it wasn't written down on the note.

She fingered her slave collar, musing over how happy she had been to be collared, and named Cindy, to become his permanent slave. Whenever he called her his little slave girl, it left her feeling young and contented.

Reading through another document, this time typed and looking official, she noticed her name with a personal description. She started to read it again. It was a slave ownership document. It was all there, her previous name, date of birth, place of birth, a lewd description of her body, domestic ability, slave training, and characteristics as a slave, were all detailed.

Shit! There was a mention of her breeding capabilities. She was described as an object, like a prized animal, even with a value!

Some of the information must have come from her computer at home, when she had a home. All her possessions were in storage somewhere. Roger was so familiar with her naked body he had no problem describing it.

Her skills as a sex object were shockingly detailed too. The capacity of her asshole to take an object, had a measurement included!

The last page could be filled in by the next owner, with price paid, new skills acquired, and body modifications. She didn't like the list of body modifications. It listed tattoos, piercings, and cosmetic surgery. Damn! The document was thorough! It also meant she could be sold on, with new masters adding modifications to her body, and training her to be whatever they wanted from a slave.

Hollie fingered a nipple ring and the piercings in her sex. She had already been modified to suit a master, and been branded with a slave number tattoo. When thought about, in terms of this document, it felt overwhelming. To be declared a slave so blatantly was the ultimate humiliation.

Her pussy began to flow with juices, glistening on thighs and the leather chair. She was despoiling a master's chair, and felt like naughty little slave girl for doing it. How could she expect to escape the feeling of being a helpless slave, dependent upon a master; even if she ran far away?

Hollie scrunched up in the chair as she climaxed, bringing her knees up to her nerve tingling tummy, feeling the orgasm radiate throughout her body.

She slumped in the chair, knowing she had to leave, after what she had done to Angela and her mother. She needed to get away as far as possible, and to cover her tracks. She needed time. The men would come tomorrow for her and all they would find was Angela and her mother.

Hollie stared at the keyboard for a moment and dared to touch it. With trembling fingers she slowly began a return email, to the Pony-girl trainer. It was sent. In the morning all her strength of will would be needed to face them.

***

Hollie straightened the sensible looking tweed skirt and jacket. The skirt was below the knee and the tailored jacket was buttoned up, as was the blouse, to cover her throat and the slave collar. She was delaying the moment of opening the door.

While examining herself in a mirror she noticed the large, slutty hoop earrings. So used to wearing them, she had forgotten to remove the nasty things. Quickly pulling them off, they were thrown on a hall stand. Opening the door she briskly ushered the two men in.

Straightening her back, and pulling her shoulders up, for extra height, she still had to look up at them, yet attained a look of authority.

"Did you receive my late email, young man," Hollie officiously asked. Dressed like a fussy school mistress, helped her act the part. She had in mind an old teacher, from high school, to base the act upon.

"Yes, ma'am," the young man politely answered.

"Are there just the two of you? Do you think you can handle the extra slave?" Hollie asked, while looking them over.

"Yes ma'am, we have plenty of experience in handling slaves, don't you worry none. We'll be gone in a twinkling, with no fuss, just as soon as you provide the paperwork, if you please, ma'am," the young man said.

Taken aback at the unexpected request, Hollie played for time. "I'm glad to hear you have good manners, young man. I assume you had a good upright mother to guide you," she stated.

"Why thank you ma'am, I did. She was a rock of righteousness and a good Christian woman," he smiled broadly.

"Well, I trust you both to find your way upstairs to their rooms. I'll fetch the paperwork," Hollie told them, and turned back to the study.

Quickly scanning the emails sent by Angela, she found what it was he had been asking for. It was the women's slave papers. Damn! Angela didn't have any, and she had no idea where the mother's slave papers were.

She picked up her own papers, wondering if they would do. She would have to bluff it. Remembering it from yesterdays search, she opened a draw where a number was tapped. It was faded from being well thumbed. Urgently scanning the room she noticed a dirty scuff mark, alongside one of the paintings. When looking for a sign, it was a give away. Yes! The safe was there, and it opened at the first attempt; turning the tumbler left then right, for each number.

While rummaging through stacks of papers she heard muffled yells from Angela, as they passed the study, toward the front door. The girl didn't sound fully awake yet, though enough to give them a struggle. She heard a sharp slap, followed by louder protests. The gag would at least keep the deception up for awhile.

There were official looking documents haphazardly thrown in to the small space, which she discarded on the floor at her feet. The man might be a diplomat, but he was a terrible organiser. Thankfully she knew what to look for. There it was, right at the bottom of the safe. Opening it revealed the name and details, in a format much the same as hers.

It was the woman's life history as a slave. She glanced through the list of owners, reading there had only been two, before her husband. Noting the woman's date of birth, and the transfer dates, she calculated the woman had been enslaved at an early age. The first owner was probably her father.

Hollie felt sorry for the woman. She had never been a free woman, being enslaved as a girl. Reading the notes she found the first sale had her down as a virgin. A high price had been obtained for that attribute.