The Devil's Pact Slave Chronicles - Cover

The Devil's Pact Slave Chronicles

Copyright© 2014 by mypenname3000

Chapter 8: Mrs. Cora, Progressive Teaching

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 8: Mrs. Cora, Progressive Teaching - A series of vignettes about the slaves Mark and Mary have given to their friends and family. Many of these tales serve as epilogues for the various, minor characters.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Mind Control   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Hermaphrodite   Incest   Brother   Sister   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Humiliation   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Orgy   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Water Sports   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Teacher/Student   Public Sex   School   Prostitution  

Note: Damien, Miss Sullivan's boyfriend, was given his math teacher, Mrs. Corra, to be his sex slave. Thanks to b0b for beta reading this! Friday, September 6th, 2013 – Polly Corra – Tacoma, WA

"Today's lesson is on Pythagorean theorem," I announced, writing on the whiteboard with a black, dry erase marker after the bell rang, starting First Period of Washington High School. "Who knows what..." My eyes widened, and I tried to stop the soft moan that escaped my lips. The vibrator in my pussy, held in place by a pair of panties, suddenly hummed on, buzzing at its lowest setting. " ... it's ... um ... used for."

Mr. Damien Fairburn smirked in the back, leaning back in his chair. Miss Missy Sullivan had scooted her desk right next to his, something students weren't supposed to do. But they were my Masters, so I could hardly tell them off. Miss Sullivan leaned over and whispered in Mr. Fairburn's ear. I gasped as the the vibrator clicked to the setting two; a wonderful sensation filled my pussy.

The vibrator was enchanted. One of Miss Sam Soun's devilish devices. Mr. Fairburn was attuned to it and controlled the toy with his mind, willing it to vibrate. It was getting hard to focus as my pussy was churned into frothy wonder. I barely noticed Miss Brentwood's hand shot up into the air and waved. She was a prissy, blonde girl wearing a conservative blouse and long, black skirt.

"Yes, Miss Brentwood." I tried my best to keep my passion out of my voice.

"It's used to find solve the lengths of right angle triangles," she proudly stated.

"Yes," I nodded, turning to right a2+b2=c2 on the whiteboard and drawing a right angle triangle next to it then wrote a, b, and c along the triangle's sides. "Pythagorean theorem states that the hypotenuses of the triangle," I pointed to the long side labeled c, "length squared is equal to the two right angle sides squared." I motioned to sides A and B.

The vibrator kicked up a notch and I moaned, leaning against the whiteboard. I grit my teeth as I struggled to control myself. Miss Sullivan wickedly giggled in the back. I looked and saw her hand busily moving beneath the desk and a large grin on Mr. Fairburn's face. Then Miss Sullivan pulled out her phone and held it up so they could both look at it. I frowned, then remembered Miss Dawn Cooper, their other sex slave, was streaming some sort of sex show from the boy's restroom. Miss Sullivan was always making Miss Cooper do humiliating things.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Corra?" Miss Brentwood asked, concern painting her face.

"I'm fine," I answered, wiping at the sweat bursting out on my brow.

My juices soaked through my panties and my tart arousal perfumed the air. A few of the boys were staring avidly at my chest. I had DD breasts, and today I wore no bra. My nipples prominently pressed against the thin, cotton of my blouse. As I moved, my breasts swayed and my nipples rubbed across the fabric, adding to the stew brewing in my pussy.

"So if a=3 and b=4, what would side c equal to?" I asked.

Mostly blank looks faced me; only Miss Brentwood was working on the problem.

"Oh, my god," Miss Sullivan suddenly gasped. "She's got a cock in her mouth and cunt!"

The class all turned around and gaped at the strawberry-blonde, lithe girl. Miss Brentwood flushed crimson, then looked at me for guidance. They all knew that Missy's sister was the Goddess, though not everyone believed Mr. and Mrs. Glassner's divinity.

"Just ignore them class. Now, has anyone..." The vibrator kicked up to its middle setting and I gripped the edge of my desk and tried to stifle my moan as a small orgasm steamed through my body.

All the boys, and a few of the girls, were staring wide-eyed at me as my orgasm overwhelmed me. I doubled over, grabbing the edges of my desk. My tits were practically falling out of my blouse, and the entire class could see down my blouse and catch glimpses of my pink nipples. I was on display for them, and that just made the orgasm even more intense.

Lust shined in their eyes, hard-ons bulged in the boy's pants and girls shifted their thighs as their pussies dampened their panties. I bit my lip, trying to maintain some decorum before my students. Mr. Fairburn and Miss Sullivan smiled at me, enjoying the sight. The pleasure kept quaking through me and my passion couldn't be contained. I let out a long, low moan.

I suddenly felt free.

It didn't matter that I was cumming in front of a class of high school students, it just mattered that I was bursting with pleasure. I didn't fight my orgasm. I embraced it. I threw back my head, pulling the bobby pins out of my hair and letting my lush, curly hair fall about my shoulders.

And then the vibrator stopped.

The class was silent, the students all staring in amazement at me. I smiled, stood up and straightened my clothes, pushing my hair out of my face. Mr. Fairburn winked at me from the back of the classroom and I winked back at him.

"So, who knows the answer to the problem?" I asked as if nothing had happened.

"Um, c=5," Miss Brentwood answered.

"Correct," I nodded. "Why don't you write your solution out on the whiteboard?"

"Okay." She seemed a little hesitant as I perched on the edge of my desk, my short skirt riding up to show the tops of my thigh-high stockings and the straps of my garter belt.

She talked as she wrote out her math. "Well, the square of 3 is 9 and the square of 4 is 16."

A wet, smacking noise filled the classroom. I smiled. Miss Sullivan and Mr. Fairburn were vigorously making out. Mr. Fairburn's hand slipped under her blouse and was clearly groping her budding breasts. I licked my lips, envious of Miss Sullivan. I loved Mr. Fairburn, and I always felt a little jealous when my Master was with another woman. I tried not to be, reminding myself that I was his slave not his lover.

"So I then added 9+16 and got 25," Miss Brentwood continued. "Then ... oh, my gosh! Mrs. Corra, they shouldn't be doing that."

"Just keep solving your problem." I dismissively waved my hand.

Mr. Fairburn broke the kiss and whispered something in Miss Sullivan's ear. She grinned back at her boyfriend and nodded her head. She straddled Mr. Fairburn's lap, his hands cupping her ass through her short skirt. All the eyes in the room where on my teenage Masters.

"All I had to do next was find the square root of 25, which is 5 and..."

"Oh, Damien!" Miss Sullivan moaned, her hips bouncing up and down on his lap, clearing riding his cock.

A summer spent in Mr. and Mrs. Glassner's neighborhood, where casual sex abounded, seemed to have warped my Masters' sense of appropriateness. The neighborhood was full of horny bodyguards and sluts, and let's not forget Dr. Willow WolfTail's insatiable nurses. The two teens had reveled in it. Almost any woman living in the neighborhood were available to satisfy any desires the two teens had.

"I love your pussy," Mr. Fairburn moaned, then started kissing her again. Her naked ass flashed as she fucked him fast, her skirt rising up and down.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" demanded Miss Brentwood.

"Shut up!" Mr. Cleveland shouted. The bulky linebacker was appreciatively eyeing Miss Sullivan's ass.

"This is wrong!" Miss Brentwood actually stamped her foot. "Mrs. Corra, what is wrong with you? This is unacceptable behavior!"

She was getting on my nerves. I glanced at my Masters and saw Mr. Fairburn nod to me. "Miss Brentwood, you sit down right this instant and stop causing a disruption in my classroom!"

The prissy girl blinked at me. "What? I'm the one causing a disturbance? I'm going to go tell the principal what sort of behavior you seem to find acceptable!"

"Now I have had enough of your insolence!" I reached out, grabbed her arm, and hauled her over to my desk. "It's time for you to be disciplined."

"What!" she yelled as I tried to force her over my desk. She squired in my arms. "Help! Help!"

"Ohh," Miss Sullivan giggled, looking over her shoulder. "Give her a good spanking, Mrs. Corra!"

"I plan on it, Miss Sullivan," I answered. "Now stop struggling, Miss Brentwood. You're just making your punishment worse!"

"Help me!" she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The door opened and 02 stuck her head in. "Is everything all right in here?" the bodyguard asked, concern on her light brown face.

"She's assaulting me! Help!" Mrs. Brentwood shouted at the sluttily dressed bodyguard.

"I could use some help disciplining this student," I said.

02 glanced at the back of the room. Miss Sullivan and Mr. Fairburn had changed positions. She was bent over the desk, and he was plowing her from behind. "Help her," Miss Sullivan commanded the bodyguard.

"Of course, ma'am," 02 answered, striding into the classroom, her perky tits seemingly about to spill out of her half-unbuttoned, navy-blue blouse.

"What?" Miss Brentwood gaped as the bodyguard grasped her wrists and yanked her across the desk, pinning her in place.

"Stop resisting or I'll handcuff you," 02 threatened in her cops voice. She was a former Lynwood Police Officer before Mr. and Mrs. Glassner conscripted her as a bodyguard.

Miss Brentwood, trembling stopped as she gave up, ending her resistance.

"Good," I said. "Now you can't be disrupting class like that, you understand?"

"Oh, my God, Damien," Miss Sullivan paned. "Oh, my God! Fuck me!"

"But what about them?" she pleaded.

I tutted in annoyance. "Miss Sullivan is the sister of a Goddess," I told her. "She's practically divine herself, and Mr. Fairburn is her chosen consort. So I can hardly tell them to do anything."

"Fuck, fuck!" moaned Mr. Fairburn. "Oh, Missy! Your pussy is so tight!"

"But you, Miss Brentwood, are neither a Goddess nor related to one. So what gives you the right to disrupt my class?"

"None," she sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"Good," I smiled, then pulled up her long, black skirt.

She struggled again when her panty-clad ass was revealed. "But, I said I was sorry."

"You did," I smiled, stroking her pert ass. "But that doesn't excuse your behavior."

I gripped her panties, looking at the excited faces eagerly staring at her butt. Then I unveiled her treasures for all the hungry gazes. Her ass was pale and taut, two perky hemispheres made of creamy skin. Between her thighs was a tight slit adorned with wispy, blonde curls.

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