Extra-Curricular

Part 3

 

Authors Note:

 

This Story was commissioned by my master. I know you don’t care.. But he does!

 

One week without masturbating? I weighed it up in my head. I masturbated daily and I was already so desperate. As I walked home I imagined crawling under the bedcovers and releasing my violent arousal. But then I reconsidered, so far had I managed to complete his tasks? Not yet. So this time I was going to do it.

 

I went a day or two quite easily, barely thinking about it or feeling the urges but by Friday I was as horny as ever and this was only made worse by my Friday English lesson.

“Lily would you come to the front, I have a gift for you.”

Dear God, what the hell does he want now? Why does my class have to be so giggly, don’t they realise how much harder they make it… Perhaps they didn’t but Mr Harding certainly did, and as I walked towards him he gave a smile very different from his usual wolfy grin, it was sardonic. Once I reached the table he pulled his draw open and handed me a little wrapped present, It was wrapped in red wrapping paper and it had a ribbon and a heart shaped tag which said “To my favourite student” Then a kiss. What on earth could it be? I wondered. “I think you should open it here don’t you? But first read out the card” I read it aloud. The class laughed, a particularly annoying pubescent boy, said something about fucking and it made me blush all the brighter; he couldn’t possibly realise how close to the truth he was. I slid a fingernail under the seam of the beautifully wrapped present, and gently prised it open. In my hands was a narrow thin box. A watch maybe? I opened the box up and nearly gasped but I caught myself and tried to internalise the panic attack. Inside the box was a pencil, but more specially the pencil that Mr Harding had teased me with. The pencil he had forced into my asshole. It wasn’t covered with shit.. But it still had a smell that would be recognisable. “Do you like it?” Looking at me with big puppy eyes like he might burst into tears if I say no..

“Y..Yes” I say in strangled tones. “It’s just what I wanted.”

He gives me a great big grin and then says in a faux-sheepish voice… “then you’ll use it to write now? Please!” This was unbearable, there is something so wrong about Mr Harding pretending to be shy, it’s so completely against his nature.

“Yes Sir, of course I will.”

“Yay!”

 

I can’t say that I was surprised to find myself aroused after the lesson, but I still was unable to relieve myself. In some ways it would have been a kindness if he’d attacked me with a chastity belt. Then, at least, I wouldn’t be able to. But that wasn’t the point though was it? He wants me to learn control. Or drive me mad, one of the two.

Maybe I could masturbate but not bring myself to orgasm? But then I remembered his specific words had been not to masturbate.

 

By Monday I was feverish, I don’t think I stopped being wet for a second. I was walking down a packed corridor when I walked into someone with a thud. “sorry” But suddenly my hands were being held behind my back. I glanced up and realised I’d run straight into Mr Harding. “You need to be more careful, pet” He said then he drew me up close, and whispered in my ear. “lets try some obedience training.. Heel” Then he began to walk on, expecting me to follow. “But Sir, my lesson is that way.” I said pointing desperately. “I don’t care I gave you an order.” So I followed.

“Speak”

“Woof?”

“That was pitiful. Sit”

I sat down in the middle of the corridor, fortunately most people had gotten to their lessons.

“Stay.”

I stared at him morosely I hope this wasn’t going to be like the standing in the corner incident… it wasn’t. “Come!” he said when he reached the classroom where he was teaching. I ran up the corridor. “Good girl,” He said as he patted my head. Mr Harding checked his watch…”Goodness, you’re going to be late for lesson. Kiss me goodbye then you can hurry along. Out in the open? I kissed him quickly on the lips and tried to make an escape but he caught my arm and drew me to him and kissed me fully on the lips for what felt like an hour, all the while fondling my breast gently. Then he went into his lesson and the door slammed shut behind. I felt like loose change, tossed aside.

 

 

Tuesday! It’s Tuesday. I am going to orgasm today… hopefully. I mean he hasn’t specifically said I will be but he wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny me one now… after I worked so hard… would he? Silly question, I try and push it out of my head. For the first time in two weeks my English lesson is completely uneventful, I’m not ignored, I’m not humiliated; anyone would think I’m just an ordinary English student, but in a way it’s a breath of fresh air and it must be helping my grades a little. I’m not an English genius I still have to work to get grades.

 

The lesson finished and the archaic, immortal were being drawn onto the white board. Need I repeat them? I don’t see why there is still the English tagged on the end; the lessons are certainly not what you’d find in your average English class. I think Mr Harding just loves the irony of it all.

“Come and sit next to me Lily.”

I go over to him and sit next to his feet. He looks down at me from his chair and asks, “Have you masturbated?”

I look up at him aroused and wide-eyed. No Sir.

He raises one eyebrow… I’ve surprised him.

“Good girl!” He says in a surprised, amused way. As though I am a puppy who has just learnt a new trick.

“I’m so proud of you I have little gift.” he went into his draw and pulled out the delightful things he would be using today. Ankle cuffs, handcuffs, a long piece of chain, a ball gag, that made me shudder, but it didn’t look to big, a paintbrush, and last but not least a small vibrator. It all looked terribly exciting.

“Take off all your clothes, Lily.” I did so. Slowly. My breasts perked up in the cool classroom. “You are going to have to trust me, you have been a very good girl and if you continue to be very good I will let you orgasm but if you make mistakes then you won’t be allowed, understand.” I nodded affirmation. “Good. Since we are going to be using this then you’ll need a safe sign, the sign is this..” He held up his first finger and little finger. “Like you a rocking out! I don’t think you are ready to be fucked yet, little girl. So won’t be doing that.. All seem fair?”

“Yes sir,”

“Good.”

 

Mr Harding locked my wrists into the handcuffs and clipped cuffs onto my ankles. Then he lay me down on his speedily cleared desk. “Hold your arms above your head.” I didn’t feel able to disobey his commands. He looped the thin chain through the links in the handcuffs and pulled it so that half the length of the chain was through the link. Then he took both the ends underneath the desk and looped them through the ankle cuffs. The chain wrapped around the desks legs so that each leg was chained off to opposite table legs and I lay spread-eagled, and completely exposed. Then the strands of strands of chain were padlocked together under the table. Mr Harding showed me the key and placed it on a student’s desk. There would be no escape unless I safe “worded”. I felt more than a little trapped. The angles of my arms forced my breasts up towards the ceiling, and Mr Harding had decided to get acclimatised to his new surrounding. He groped my breasts and touched me softly and stroked my sensitive regions. I was beginning to giggle loudly, since I am inordinately ticklish, insanely so. This unfortunately reminded Mr Harding about the ball gag, which reappeared suddenly. I looked at it with horror. There is no way that is going in my mouth, I though bitterly and clamped my teeth shut. He tried to open my jaw forcibly but to no avail. So he held my nose. I can hold my breath for over a minute but at the same time he was tickling my armpits, I burst out laughing and gasping for breath and in went the ball gag. Hard. It felt so strange and was bigger than I had expected from looking at it. Already I felt an unpleasant sensation of saliva building up around the edges of my mouth.

“It was naughty of you to try and stop me.” Mr Harding said with a smirk on his face. I glared at him. As if losing wasn’t punishment enough. This damned thing makes it tricky to breath. “How about we have a little play with this.” He produced the paint brush; this had been the enigma of the paraphernalia but suddenly strung up it made sense. “I’m going to stroke this up and down your body twice. Every time you jump we are going to start again, from the beginning of the first attempt.” My whole body was completely exposed. “Don’t move,”

He began to make maddening tiny little circles on the ball of my left foot. I instantly jumped. And he started over. The second time he got to my big toe before I flinched, the third and he was sweeping through the gaps between my toes. It was unbearable I was moaning and bucking and every touch made me even more ticklish. After the fifth attempt he decided to be lenient and skip the feet. He stroked the brush up my inner thigh towards my pussy, suddenly I wasn’t ticklish anymore the sensations were all sex. Amazing what a week without an orgasm can do. He rolled it over the lips of my vagina and felt so hot, the tension and the excitement of being tortured this way had made me covered with sweat. Momentarily he touched my clitoris and I bounced. It was back to the start and with an added warning. “Don’t cum” The rest was a sort of sweaty blur; He loved to concentrate on my clitoris and my breasts, and my armpits, trying to catch me out by either making me so desperate I’d move towards the brush or to catch me out the old fashioned with a good mean tickle. It worked very often and it must have been about thirty minutes before I managed to go the whole time. He stroked the paintbrush down my right foot and I lay there in exaltation.

“Not bad.” He said. “But not quite good enough. In fact my sugar dumpling you have earned the right to be played with using the vibrator, but you have not earned the right to cum.”

I looked up at him horrified, unable to complain through the gag. My eyes did the pleading for me, they practically welled up. Please!

The vibrator came on with a buzz and he pressed it gently against my right nipple. I had never experienced a vibrator before and even this mild sensation set me off moaning. Mr Harding laughed at my overt reaction. “Feels good doesn’t it, you little slut. How about we try it somewhere a little more sensitive. Hmm?” and he slid it onto the lips of my pussy. It made my pubic hair vibrate and I lay there in a gentle ecstasy not quite ready to cum, I was simply enjoying the raw pleasure. Then he forced it deep into my vagina, for the first time in my life there was something solid there and it was a strange experience. Humiliating on one level but on another intrigued and curious. It buzzed around and made me start to feel much more desperate. He whipped it out again. “Don’t you dare cum.”

Then it was there on my clitoris and I was bucking wildly so close to orgasm but it was so forbidden. Just when I was about to collapse in a gut wrenching orgasm he switched it off. “Phew, that was close. You almost came then!” I burst into tears. He smiled wickedly. “Do didn’t think I would let you did you? Aww poor baby. He unchained me and dressed me and combed my hair, like I was a little slut doll. Or rather, His little slut doll. Then he kissed me good evening and said gently, “if you are a good girl and don’t masturbate this week I will give you a nice orgasm next week.”

I could have screamed, but I didn’t because little sluts don’t scream, they just do as they are told.