Teaching Her A Lesson, Part I

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In hindsight, I shouldn’t have left her bound by her legs and arms to the dressing room of the shop but the hussy needed to learn her lesson and it just so happens, I am her maths teacher. So hopefully, the little bitch will figure out I tied the ropes loose and follow through with her task by getting her ass back to mine.

None of this wouldn’t have happened if she weren’t such a rude, condescending girl that failed to show respect to her elders. It didn’t help matters that I couldn’t hold my tongue. For months, she’s been coming into my class talking at the top of her voice, swaying those hips of hers in a skirt that barely covers her ass.

In my day, if it were I, I would’ve got my ass beaten.

Then there was the fact that despite this atrocious behaviour of this girl, she still did something to me. The nights that I held my trusted toy against my clit, she would pop into my mind. Her, with her short skirt, pale legs and hint of a colourful bra behind her white cotton shirt.

I’ve never been interested in women; the idea has never so much as popped into my mind until she wandered into my class.

But my God, every orgasm that hit me as my mind traced its steps up her legs and across her

(Shaven?)

Cunt, it felt magical.

And yet, Laura Anne King was your spoilt rotten bitch. Loud, lazy and – if the rumours were to be believed – a hussy.

Still, I found myself calling her out in class to answer the week’s equation, just to hear her voice. The voice that has whispered in my ear in my darkest dreams. The ones where I take her whole body on under the stars of my old parent’s place and she howls my name.

The bitch would giggle and come up with some dumbass comment, other times she’d ignore me as she finished a conversation with whoever was sitting beside her.

Part of me loathed her rudeness, the other part wanted to see what underwear she was wearing today, which made me loath myself further – and it was all her fault.

But that all changed just a few hours ago, when our paths crossed in the department store after school.

There, Laura the slut was gathered around her two best friends, the names of which I cannot recall. When our eyes locked, she giggled and blurted out, “Fancy seeing you here, miss!” with the Fuck you tone that comes with some teenagers.

Her friends applauded her line and I just forced a half arsed smile.

That was when I had the idea to act on every bad act, every fantasy I had. I ignored my heart beating hard. I waited till no staff was around, till her friends had left (presumably to head home or to another shop while Laura changed) and when the time was right, I pushed through the door.

“What the actual fuck?”

Laura was still in her school uniform, hitching up her plain green (and short) skirt.

I immediately acted without thinking, grabbing her wrists and pushing her face against the wall.

“Shut up, you little slut, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Fuck you, you dyke” The response came through bared teeth.

She dropped her handbag, her nail polish fell out and scattered across the floor.

I can’t really recall what came over me. Thinking back, it feels like I was possessed.

I remember leaning in close to her and whispering to her to be quiet and then lifting up to reveal her black hello kitty panties. They seemed tight around her ass, revealing the curves of her buttocks.

I recall striking her. Once, twice. It…I can’t remember how many times. I remember pulling down her panties just to see her freckled ass and then…I don’t know. It was pink and raw before I knew it. I must’ve stopped when I found that she had paid her debt for being a rude bitch.

“You’re going to get locked up, you fucking bitch” She whined at me. “Bet your cheap ass bottom dollar, you will”

“Shut your mouth”

I remember barking at her to remove the tie from her shirt. I remember that because that’s how I left her, with her wrists bound to the coat hanger that was hanging her precious little outfit.

When I barked at her to tie her hands, she turned around and spat at me.

I can still feel my pussy aching just thinking about that moment.

When she refused again, I pushed her head into the wall and tied her hands myself. She struggled like a fly caught in a spider’s web; only this was my web now, bitch.

When her wrists were tied together, I tore down her panties and flung them to the side. She gasped but kept herself from spilling out for the workers. Good. She was learning.

With her bare ass exposed, I grabbed her black nail polish off the floor.

“I’ll teach you to shut your mouth” I had said and began to write on her right cheek.

“Get off of me” She said, squirming. I held her down with my free hand long enough to write: BITE ME!

I blew on it just to let it dry a while before moving to her left cheek.

“Stupid old dyke” she grunted at me, but I slapped her ass, which seemed to silence her long enough for me to write SLUT! On her left cheek.

I took a step back to admire the view. My heart was hammering in my chest. Now that she was bound, red raw and silent, what could I possibly do with her?

To be concluded…

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