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When you’ve had too little sleep, the world around you seems to be moving at a different speed from you, and everything seems distant and hidden behind a vibrant haze. It is worse when you have spent hour after endless hour at the edge of the most intense climax only to be denied. Reality barely gets through that haze to you and focusing becomes almost inhumanly difficult. Strangely, though, other things suddenly appear with a clarity that you could never have reached otherwise. This Tuesday was such a day. I had spent the night kneeling in front of Natalie’s couch, worshipping my beloved’s feet and her lover’s while they had made passionate love into the wee hours. I had painted moist, devoted prayers onto their toes with my tongue and lips while bitter tears of unfulfilled need streamed down my cheeks and my juices coated my thighs like gallons of sticky honey. After Cordelia had brought me home, I had spent an hour frozen on a chair in the kitchen while I struggled to suppress the worst of that inferno of need between my legs. I had just been left with enough time to get out of the embarrassing kitten outfit, shower and put on something decent for work, then I had to be on my way to school. The drive there had been torture with the night’s impressions resonating in my mind and no possibility to quench that burning need in my hyper-sensitive pussy. I was early – which was by no means unpleasant, because I could avoid a lot of eyes this way – and my students wouldn’t arrive for another half hour. I forewent the usual visit to the staff room and headed directly to my class, my steps resonating loud and dry from the walls, a rhythmic staccato broken by tiny, insecure almost-stumbles. A strange melancholy suddenly gripped me and made my step falter, and then that profound clarity suddenly set in. I knew now, without doubt, that the course of destruction I had set off on would soon reach its culmination, and that my days as a teacher here were numbered. I stumbled into the classroom and collapsed on my chair. I didn’t really have any options, nor did I have a fallback plan. My breathing sped up and I felt dizzy. That was when I spotted the blank, big, heavy envelope on my desk. I reached out with trembling hands and picked it up. As soon as it got close, I recognized the scent streaming from it, knew that the sweet perfume meant that it came from her, from my goddess and downfall. My hands shook as I wiggled a finger under the flap and ripped it open. My heart wanted to explode from my chest. I had to put the thick, glossy sheets inside it onto the desk to be able to recognize what I saw, but once I did, I froze. These were photographs of me acting in the most lewd fashion imaginable. Some showed me at that evening in the theater, blindfolded, sucking Cordelia’s toes with abandon, then being speared by Nathalie’s giant rubber cock and moaning in passion. They showed me kneeling in front of Cordelia who had turned my gusset inside out and presented the slick evidence of my desires to the camera, and they showed me licking my own juices from Monica’s fingers, who was dressed – or undressed – as a cat-girl. Every minute of my depravity was recorded on camera in sparkling detail. Shame rolled in waves over me, and I wanted to hate myself, but yet, I couldn’t, because seeing these moments brought them back into my mind and unleashed my desires in full force. I caught myself rubbing my crotch furiously through my skirt and pulled my hand away as if burned. “Oh god,” I whimpered and felt thrown around inside my own body, but then another moment of clarity set in. “How?” I whispered. How had these photos been taken? I hadn’t seen a camera anywhere. “An expensive zoom lense and a friend with very steady hands.” My whole body stiffened when the whisper tickled my ear. For a moment, I thought I might have imagined it, but then soft, strong fingers gripped my shoulders and a shuddering breath was pushed from my chest. “Cordelia!” I whispered her name, almanbahis full of accusation and barely contained arousal. Then my eyes roamed to the clock, and I gasped. “Please,” I begged, “class will start soon.” I reached out to pick up the photos strewn all over my desk, but her hand wrapped around my wrist. “Leave these,” she ordered softly, “we’ll need them later.” “No!” I protested. “We can’t do this…” I had wanted to say, ‘at school,’ but wet, warm lips wrapped over my collarbone and gently sucked, and I lost my train of thought. “Do you love me?” she whispered, not paying any heed to my words, and her hands roamed down my front and rubbed over my breasts with their hard nipples, setting them ablaze. I couldn’t lie to her. “Yes, Cordelia,” I gasped and threw back my head. “How much?” Her tongue licked up my neck and tickled that sensitive spot right next to my ear. “More than anything in the world.” Her teeth closed over a patch of my skin and she softly bit down, tugging, teasing, and my breath came in short bursts. She let go with her teeth. “Today, you’ll get to prove it.” Suddenly, her hands were gone, and I let out a tiny whimper of need, but it got stuck in my throat when I heard hurried steps approach. Already, Cordelia’s classmates filed into the room, talking animatedly and flopping down in their seats. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes, and thankfully, she was slowly walking away and to her own desk. I had no idea how I could face teaching today. I was a total mess. My breathing slowly went back to normal while I waited for everyone to arrive and take their seats. Finally, after a good ten minutes, I stood up, praying that the girls closest wouldn’t get nosy and try to glimpse my photos, and went to close the door. Without conscious thought, I locked it. “Good morning, class,” I greeted them as usual. “Today…” “Today, we will talk about libertinism once more,” Cordelia’s voice, louder and stronger than mine, declared, and she slowly stood up. There were a few startled looks my way, but then all eyes were on her. I was caught off-guard, and before I could even begin to form a response, she was standing next to me with a wide grin. Her hand reached out, and I watched her finger approach my face in slow motion before it came to rest on my lips. I froze. “Mrs. Wilkins,” she sing-songed, “has volunteered to indulge us in a little practical demonstration of libertinism.” Her index finger softly caressed my lips and made them sparkle, and her smile became so commanding and beautiful – I was caught. Shame settled over me and warmth welled up between my legs. My eyes grew big and pleading, but she gently shook her head and continued speaking to the class. “You see, our teacher explained so eloquently in that lesson how the central, defining point of libertinism is that power is there to be used, and that morale is for the weak.” Her finger prodded at my lips. I tried to press them close, knowing that I couldn’t afford to send even a tiny further signal of submission, but then she leaned so close that I could feel her breath, and she licked her full, rosy lips with her tongue. Her finger slipped inside. Gasps filled the room, and I had to close my eyes. I felt like falling, like tumbling head over heels into an abyss, and everything became surreal. “The weak, that may be those with less money, less rights, or…” She began to move her finger into and out of my mouth, and memories of the times when she had done the same with it coated in my juices or hers assaulted me. I think I moaned. “…or those with desires so strong that they cannot resist them, so strong that they let the object of their affections do anything they please.” Something pulled on my blouse, fresh gasps suddenly sounded all over the classroom, and I opened my eyes in shock. True enough, Cordelia was slowly unbuttoning it, smiling brightly. “Please,” I whimpered so quiet only she could hear it. “But you need to prove your love,” she whispered back. almanbahis yeni giriş I almost started to cry in desperation, because the moment her beautiful lips had whispered the word love, a warm rush had enveloped my heart. Then the blouse was completely open and she brushed her cheek against mine, making it prickle with desire. I couldn’t resist her. That tiny, rational part in my mind screamed at me to stop this, as this was going far beyond kinky and into dangerous, existence threatening territory. “Good pet,” she whispered, “you’re so sexy when you’re embarrassed.” My arms slackened and the blouse fluttered to the floor, taking my inhibitions with it. Her arms reached around me and her scent filled my world. When she opened my bra clasp, I didn’t even start to resist. A second later, I was bare chested in front of my class, and my nipples were almost painfully hard. I couldn’t look at all the gleeful, sixteen and seventeen year old faces, but I heard their murmurs, gasps, hollers and whistles. Cordelia’s hands cupped my breasts and this time I couldn’t suppress my moan even the tiniest bit. “Whose are these,” she asked so everyone could hear her. “Yours,” I replied, voice shaky and strangled, unable to lie. “And what am I to you?” she asked sharply, burying her fingers in my hair at the back of my head and tilting it back forcefully while her other hand kneaded my breast. My hips started to gyrate. She was reducing me to nothing but the need for her, to nothing but that yearning, pulling, all-encompassing desire that filled my heart and pussy. Then – clarity. There are moments in life when everything thought true crumbles to dust, and at first, the mind is unable to comprehend it. But then, like after a thunderstorm that threw you around, blinded you and made you deaf with its sheer force, you gradually become aware of a silence that settles over everything, and with it comes clarity. The bridge to what had been my life until minutes ago was burning to cinders and there was no salvaging it. I was left with nothing but my one desire, and I had to act on it, as it was all that was left. My fingers shook like mad when I opened the button and zipper of my skirt. I let it drop, kicked it away and slid my panties off while I lowered myself to my knees. I released all the love, need and worship I had futilely tried to contain inside my heart, and looked up at Cordelia as the goddess she was. “My beloved,” I answered her question loud and clear, so loud that it overcame the pounding of my heartbeat. “My Queen Bee. My Goddess. My…” I knew this was what she had been waiting for, and I saw her eyes light up the moment the first syllable left my tongue. “My Despot.” Even though she was completely clothed, she had never looked more beautiful than now, her face radiant with a satisfaction that seemed to originate deep inside her and her eyes misty with emotions. A soft shudder raced through her, and a delighted giggle rang out. “Your despot, yes.” She walked over to my desk and sat down on the edge, leaving me to shuffle around on my knees. She kicked off one expensive white sandal, and I knew her expectations even before she uttered it. “Show the rest of the class where your place is, Mrs. Wilkins!” And so I crawled through a swamp of embarrassment, my eyes transfixed by her pretty toes which were like shiny crowns on the most beautiful of legs, giggles and open laughter accompanying my way, until my lips could wrap around these objects of worship. My tongue danced all over them, and with the familiar taste came deep contentment. For a moment, there was nothing but Cordelia, the taste and feeling of her foot, and my own arousal that I could clearly smell. She withdrew her foot without notice, dripping strings of drool down my chin, and looked at me with a calculating gaze. I was breathing hard and tried to meet her eyes. She wiped her foot on my bared breasts, leaving wet smudges of saliva and burning heat. I wondered what almanbahis giriş she had planned next, but all became clear when she held out the photographs to me and winked. “Show the class what a slut you are. Show them the depth of your depravity. Show them these. For me.” I couldn’t remember my hand ever shaking so badly, but I gripped the photos hard. “Yes, Cordelia.” She didn’t need to give me further orders. I crawled across the floor, reflecting how she had seduced me with her beauty, unlocked parts of me that I myself had never been aware of, and finally, just through little promises and tiny boons, completely enslaved me. Somehow, her power over me had become absolute. Just like the characters in those French novels, I had fallen to her spell and let her spin a web of seduction that I had neither the power nor the desire to escape. I approached the girl in the first desk, Penny, a lithe, albeit a little nerdy, cute and quiet redhead with a ponytail, and knelt upright next to her, holding out a shaky hand with the first printed sheet of proof of my debauchery. I had always liked her, and she had been eager to participate when prodded a little, preening when she earned my praise. Now, once her eyes had travelled over the perverted picture, her eyes held contempt. “Slut,” she whispered and passed the photo on to her neighbor, the slightly stocky Lizbeth, whom I had always had a hard time to reign in. She was right. The next photo followed, and slowly, all evidence travelled through Penny’s hands and was shared with the whole class. The shame inside me built to almost unbearable levels, tinting my whole body in a deep, trembling blush. “Mrs. Wilkins!” Cordelia’s sharp command pulled me from a frozen moment. The last photo had long since passed through the hands of my students. “Come here!” I scurried over to where she indicated, next to her at the front of the blackboard. “Stand up!” My knees wobbled, but I complied. My gasp rang out loud and clear when I suddenly felt her fingers between my thighs, rubbing up and down, pressing between my aroused folds. All that shame had collected in a deep pool inside my sex, and now she was stirring it awake. My hips rocked forward to meet her hands and I moaned. I heard her voice like from a distance. “Power. I have all the power and she has none. How far will she go, now that she has been enslaved? I believe, as far as I ask her to. Mrs. Wilkins,” she said to me, this time a little softer, “we could stop now and let this be nothing but an incredibly shameful experience, but then I will never touch you again.” Her index finger flicked my clit and drew shaking gasps. “Or we could keep playing a little longer, with irreversible consequences. Which will it be?” My heart beat so fast I couldn’t make out individual pulses. Heat and cold raced up and down my body. Her expectant eyes bore deeply into mine, seeing behind all the layers of self-delusion I had built up, and the corners of her mouth quirked upwards long before realization set in and the truth settled over me like a heavy blanket. “Keep playing,” I croaked, unable to resist her wishes and caving to the soft, skilled fingers playing between my thighs and keeping me right on the edge, “please!” For a moment, everything was silent save for my racing, whistling breath. Then the slow click-clack of heels filled the air and I watched Kaila, beautiful, chocolate-skinned Kaila, approach us from the back of the classroom, a cruel smirk on her lips. I looked at Cordelia, hoping to find some explanation of what was going to happen, but her expression was unreadable. For a moment, I almost thought I saw something like regret in her eyes, but then the moment was gone and Kaila, wearing an elegant dark brown mini dress with glittering seams, stood in front of me. A look passed between them, telling me that everything up now had been choreographed. I was letting them play me like a violin, but there was nothing I could do. There never had been. “Whatever happens, don’t move. Keep still and smile, for me.” Cordelia’s words were soft, but her message wasn’t. I yelped when a small crack sounded and I felt the impact of a hand on my right breast, so unexpected that it almost turned me around.