At last! The first part of my story has been approved. I shall, therefore, continue with my dirty tale. All characters are eighteen or above. All sex is consensual.
If you haven't read part one, I'll update you.
My name is Jayne. I'm in my last year at Grammar School and enjoy being naughty. Very naughty.
Yesterday I had been summoned to the "office of shame" at school. I had been humiliated by my English teacher, spanked, mouth fucked and spunked on.
My crime was not complying with the school dress code. My cum stained bra bares witness to this, as does the audio recording I had secretly made on my phone.
Mr Ball had been the administrator of my punishment. I'd loved every second and was looking forward to future visits.
That evening, after feverish masturbation, I decided to consolidate an "arrangement" with Mr Ball. After our filthy session, I had taken his card from his desk.
His name, according to his card, was David. I decided to send "David" a text.
"Hi Mr Ball. Is it okay to ring you?"
"Well hello Miss Parker. Yes. I'm on my own."
I dialled his number and he picked up. I was lying on my bed gently fingering myself. I was still in my school uniform and red cum stained panties. They were a mess. It felt delicious and I was going to love this conversation.
"Yes Miss Parker?"
"Oh David. Please call me Jayne."
"A little bit familiar, but I suppose that's alright under the circumstances."
"The circumstances are, I still have your cum on my tits and bra. Oh David. That rhymes! As an English teacher, I hope you appreciate that!"
He was silent.
"Cat got your tongue David?"
"Go on", he said quietly.
It was a long conversation. I explained that I had recorded everything and that his career and marriage would be destroyed in an instant if he didn't play the game.
"And what is the game, Jayne?"
"Can I call you Dave?" I giggled.
"No you fucking can't!" he snapped.
"Okay David. Here it is."
I explained that I provided a service at school. My lunch times were often spent in the girls toilets where I would perform sexual acts with selected boys and one or two girls. It was a very well organised little operation. The rules were, participants had to be eighteen, reasonably good looking, have the means to pay, but above all, discretion was critical. I ensured this last "clause" by filming little parts of my performances. My "clients" fully understood the implications of disclosure and it worked very well. I called it my pocket money and did okay. For the most part I enjoyed it. Fucking me was not allowed, but hand jobs and blow jobs were fine.
Mr Ball remained silent.
"Now, here's where you come in David."
I went on to explain that my uniform would no longer be an issue. My customers loved my underwear and heels. He would make sure none of the other staff called me in for inspections, and my business would be protected.
"Are you with me so far?" I asked.
"Yes Jayne."
"Oh, that's good David."
