Chapter 3

Your entire body shuddered as you gave one final thrust and exploded into Linda Peter's ever eager pussy. Her thighs tightened around your hips as if in an attempt to wring yet more spunk out of you while her arms weighted heavily on your neck muscles. The bare skin of her arse felt good in your hands but now you were getting tired of standing and supporting her weight so, after lifting her off your cock, you gratefully eased her back to the ground. Slipping your prick back into your pants, you watched in silent admiration as she covered her quite magnificent tits with her school blouse and jumper. You helped her pull her grey skirt back down into place then turned to look about for her knickers... and when you eventually spotted them, they were laying forlorn and soaking wet in a nearby puddle.

"Fucking great," Linda muttered with disdain as she collected the offending garments gingerly between a finger and thumb. "Well, not a lot of point keeping these," she went on to add before dropping them into a nearby litter bin. Helpfully you brushed the brick dust off her back as she knelt down, opened her satchel and took out a notebook and pen before starting to write in it.

"What you doing, Linda?" you asked, rather puzzled at what she could possibly be needing to jot down just at this moment.

"My diary, of course."

"Pardon?"

"I keep a record each time I get screwed. Name, length, place, position... satisfaction rating," she ended with a smile.

"Let me have a look," you demanded, reaching out a hand.

She turned away, her smile even broader than before. "Not a chance, buster! This is private."

"Oh, all right," you muttered, disappointed... but planning on getting hold of those notes at some point.

"But don't worry - you rate well, lover. Four out of five stars for technique and five pricks out of five for equipment. Oh, and before you ask, that was fuck number 184."

Not bad ratings, you thought to yourself. After all, it was possible to improve technique but there wasn't a whole load on could do about the equipment on had been given! Then, changing the subject slightly, you asked Linda if she'd ever been with another girl.

"No... that's not my scene. Why'd you ask?"

"Oh, just... interested."

"You just wanna watch, don't you? You guys are so predictable. You all wanna see two lesbians going down on each other..."

You smiled back. "Yeah... okay... so what? It'd also be an interesting challenge to try to convert one back to the proper way of things..."

"Well, try Mary Black. She's always pestering me."

"Mary Black? She that podgy redhead in 6C?" you asked.

"She might be a few pounds overweight but she's hardly 'podgy'. But yeah, that's the one."

You smiled as the pair of you left the alley behind the bike sheds and set off back towards the classroom block. Mary Black, eh? Well, that was something you'd have to look into...

The next lesson was mathematics, an hour that you normally looked forward to but, as you'd already heard, Mrs Dougherty had called in sick this morning (much to the surprise of everyone apart from yourself) and the class was taken by the headmaster, old Mr Prat, who not only knew less about his subject than Mrs Dougherty and didn't look half as attractive. Quickly growing bored with what the old fool was saying, you turned your attention over to Linda who sat opposite you. The cheeky vixen was sat with her skirt flared over the edges of her chair and, knowing what you did, that meant that her bare cheeks were pressing against the wood. No doubt the little slag was enjoying the thought of how daring she was. Turning a little further round, you nodded to Chris Turner sitting just behind her then, using your ruler, you reached carefully back and lifted the hem of Linda's dress. Chris's eyes opened wide as he spotted the bare orbs of her posterior and, after deliberately dropping his pen on the floor, he bent down to retrieve it. Maybe it was the pen dropping or possibly Linda felt the air circulating about her where it previously had not, but something alerted her and before you could withdraw the ruler, she spun round and caught the pair of you having your fun. Huffing a little, Linda pulled down her skirt again and mouthed at you to do something that was anatomically impossible... but you noticed that she said it with a smile...

With the next day being Saturday, it was easy to make an excuse at home about going out to get some extra tuition in maths. With your parents satisfied, you left and headed round to the Dougherty's where, after ringing the door bell and waiting for a few moments, it was opened by none other than your slave. Clearly she wasn't expecting you for she was wearing a dressing gown and carpet slippers. The instant she spotted you, her face fell and her eyes filled with fear. To you her reaction was an aphrodisiac and you felt yourself stiffening already.

"M... M... Master..." she stammered as you pushed your way past her. Recovering, she glanced quickly up the street and then shut the door behind you. "I... I wasn't... wasn't expecting you today."

"I can see that," you replied coldly. "Drop the gown!"

Fearing further punishments, Mrs Dougherty hurried to obey and soon the gown was pooled about her feet. You smiled for beneath the gown she was nude. "Well, at least you got something right," you commented as you checked out the mass of bruises covering her body.

Flinching under your gaze, she asked what she could do for you but before you could answer, the door to the lounge opened and a... well, a large woman came out. "Who was it, sweetheart?" she enquired before her eyes suddenly opened wide as she spotted you. "You!" she screamed.

"It's all right, darling," replied your slave trying to calm the other person, whom you now realised must be Mr Dougherty. But your slave's husband was having none of this and, raving something about you not hurting his wife again, he launched himself at you, hands extended like claws, clearly trying to gouge out your eyes. Stepping nimbly to one side, you turned and brought your right knee up as hard as you could. You caught your opponent a sickening blow in the groin. She... he screamed once little a small child, clutched at himself and went down like as if poleaxed. Well, even if he couldn't get it up, he sure still had a pair of balls. They might be crushed and useless just now, but he sure had them. Grabbing your slave's arm, you hauled her out into the dining room, leaving her husband curled in a foetal ball and moaning to himself.