Class Time Ch. 06

I was on loan, and certainly apprehensive about it.

Although I am a college teacher, I am also a submissive. My Mistress, whom I adore, gives me tasks to do from time to time. Five years ago, one of those tasks involved a student of mine whose name is Amanda. In her, Mistress saw the makings of a Dominant and wanted to help her develop her skills. At that time Mistress let Amanda practice on me, teaching her how to project the Voice, which causes submissives to obey as if programmed. The stories reporting that first interaction, and its consequences, have been told earlier. (see Class Time Ch. 02-03)

Now it had been a couple of years since I had a session with Miss Amanda. But she had called upon my Mistress two weeks ago. During the visit, she asked, "Can I please borrow your slut girl for an evening?"

"Perhaps," Mistress replied. "It has been quite a while since she has experienced anyone other than myself. What did you have in mind?"

"I am hosting a high school reunion party in my home, and I would like your girl to act as a maid for the evening."

"As a maid? Serving food and drinks? That sounds fairly mundane, Amanda. Have you fallen out of the habit of the kinky dominance that you demonstrated years ago?"

"Oh no! Quite the contrary!" Pointing at me, Miss Amanda continued, "In fact, the reason that I want this slut present at the party is to impress my high school friends by showing my control over this outwardly respectable college professor."

I felt the familiar sensation of a flush of humiliation spreading across my face as I heard these words. Inside me, the respectable college professor is always at war with the submissive slut whore. And Miss Amanda now apparently wanted to drag out that inner whore in front of an entire group of strangers – her high school classmates.

"Now that sounds more like the Amanda that I know," said Mistress approvingly. "Certainly you may use her services for this event."

The decision was made.

My heart moves me to try to please my Mistress and obey her in all things. That same heart was now pounding rather rapidly in my chest as I drove to Miss Amanda's house. I was dressed in what I thought to be a standard maid's outfit. I had a little white hat, a black silky blouse with plunging neckline, no bra, a short poofy skirt and black panties, a black garter belt attached to my netted stockings and intermediate height heels.

I tried to get the butterflies that were fluttering inside my stomach under control as I walked to Miss Amanda's front door, and rang the doorbell.

After a minute or two she opened the door. "You are punctual. That's a good start. Come in," she commanded. She led me to her living room where she examined me critically. The expression on her face was similar to that of a cat just before it pounces on a bird. She tilted and turned my face studying that my makeup met her approval. She checked that the white hat was secure in my hair. Her hands smoothed the material of my blouse over my breasts, causing me to shiver with undeniable pleasure from her touch. My nipples hardened, poking visibly against the silk that covered them. Miss Amanda nodded her approval as she tweaked them with her fingertips.

However, as she lifted my skirt she made sounds of disapproval. "Those panties will have to go. Give them to me."

Feeling a bit of heat in my face, I lowered them to my ankles and stepped carefully out of them. As I handed the wispy little garment to her, she lifted it to her nose, and inhaled. Pulling it away, she tucked it out of sight into her bra.

"Now, as to your duties this evening. The food is already prepared. You will circulate, serving my guests. When you serve, you will bend over, lowering the tray to offer it to each person. You will not bend your knees, but keep your legs straight as you bend over."

"But my skirt is so short, Miss!" I protested.

"You will do as you are told!" she rebutted. "Go into the bathroom and apply more of that crimson lipstick. It adds wonderfully to your slutty look."

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I carefully adjusted my lipstick. I took the opportunity to pee, since I had no idea if I would get a chance later in the evening. Noticing the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, I turned away from it and tried bending over as if I was serving. Sure enough, my short skirt rose well up exposing not only my ass cheeks but also my ass hole and pussy! I tried it again, this time pressing my thighs tightly together in an attempt to remain modest. This pose only succeeded in making my labia puff out obscenely between my clenched thighs. Sighing, I resolved myself to being a laughing stock for the evening.

The first guests began arriving. Miss Amanda greeted them at the door herself with hugs and occasional air kisses. Ushering them into the room, as hostess she took it upon herself to offer drinks. I stood self-consciously enduring their curious glances in my direction. Finally, with an exasperated tone, Miss Amanda snapped, "To the kitchen, girl! Start serving food!"

I hurriedly retrieved one of the large trays and returned to the room. By now, several guests were seated with their drinks. The first few times I bent over, my posterior was aimed at an empty section of the room. But then, the inevitable happened.

As I leaned over with my tray, from behind me I heard someone splutter and begin choking on their drink. Heads swiveled in that direction; people asking what happened. I heard whispered explanations, the word spreading around the room. Still bending and serving, I became aware of men saying, "Look! Look at her!" and "OMG!" The women were more inclined to gasp and make sounds of disapproval. People must've been pointing, because heads were now swiveling in my direction. I think I turned beet red with embarrassment. My face felt like it was on fire.

Miss Amanda moved to the head of the room, and called out to me, using the Voice. "Put that tray down over here, girl, and kneel next to me at my feet."

Murmurs rippled through the room as I obeyed, placing the tray in the place she had indicated, and then sinking to my knees alongside her.

"I think that it's time for an explanation," Miss Amanda addressed the other 10 people in the room. "When I was at college, I learned that one of my prim and proper female professors was the submissive in a D/s relationship. In case you are unfamiliar with that term, the 'D' stands for the Dominant and the 's' stands for the submissive in the relationship. I became aware of this during one class day when the professor's Dominant or Mistress observed her while she was teaching our class.

"Right before our eyes, this Mistress took verbal control of the professor using a strange quality of voice. The professor obeyed without even pausing to think, and ended up doing some very filthy and degrading things in our presence. The Mistress even had us take part in humiliating that submissive professor, there in the classroom. It was at this time that I realized I also possessed that quality of voice. Noticing this, the Mistress decided to instruct me, even letting me practice on her submissive – that college professor."

Her audience was not quiet during this explanation. Wide-eyed, there were loud whispers around the room as people attempted to absorb this information.

"Over the years," Miss Amanda continued, "my skills have developed, and I have worked with many submissives. But I must admit that my favorite of all of them was my first one – that college professor. So tonight, for your entertainment, here she is at my feet."

The room erupted in sound as people started talking loud and fast to each other, pointing at me. Kneeling there before the strangers, I felt like shrinking and sinking beneath the carpet. There I was, a highly regarded college professor, dressed in this obscene fashion, and kneeling humbly before them.

Making a quieting gesture with her hands, Miss Amanda stated, "She is quite obedient. Let me demonstrate. Girl, crawl around the room and kiss the foot of each person as you go."

Face aflame, heart fluttering, I began shuffling across the carpet on my hands and knees, pausing at each pair of feet and bending low to place my lips against flesh or leather. After the first few people, the others got more into it, sliding a foot forward in offering as I approached.

Focused on my task and slipping deeper into a state of submission, I paid no attention to the fact that everyone in the room now had been given an excellent view of my private parts. Reaching the feet of Miss Amanda, I planted a kiss there that lasted a lot longer than my previous ones.

Settling back into a kneeling position, I looked up into Miss Amanda's face, awaiting her next order, whatever it might be.

"That's my good pet," she said, stroking my hair. A happy smile painted itself across my face as I heard her praise.

One of the men said jokingly, "I'd really like to spank that ass." Laughter spread through the room.

I'm sure the man was incredulous when Miss Amanda said, "Certainly. She is here for our pleasure this evening." Looking down at me she demanded, "Girl, go place yourself across his knees."

Since I was already down on the floor, I crawled over to the man who had spoken. The people on either side of him scooted slightly away from him to give us room. Without a word, I draped myself meekly across his knees.

He flipped the edge of my skirt up onto my low back, completely exposing me. He placed his hand on the warm smooth flesh of my ass cheek and fondled me a bit, as if he could not believe his luck. I was beginning to relax into the pleasure of this contact when suddenly his palm cracked loudly against my ass, making me jerk and cry out.

He proceeded to give me a very thorough spanking. In a few minutes I was sobbing, clutching onto his legs and involuntarily writhing on his lap. The other people in the room gathered around closely to watch. Some held my shoulders. Others grabbed my now thrashing legs. Some of them also joined in the fun of spanking my butt. Not all of the hands were big and rough. Some hands were small and soft and struck only lightly – the women were joining in also!

Adding to my humiliation was the fact that I found all these strange hands swatting my bare behind arousing. The moisture inside my cunt built up and up and there was nothing I could do to contain it. I started leaking. My cunt juices trickled down, wetting the man's pants. Some of the hands smacked into my wetness. I heard remarks. "Look! This little whore is leaking!"

Someone grabbed the hair on the back of my head and yanked my head up, asking, "Does this turn you on, you slut?"

I could only moan and tried to nod my head, tears streaming from my eyes.

People got bolder. The spanking ceased, and fingers began prying my pussy lips apart. Fingers dipped inside of me. Other fingers toyed with my ass hole. I was still writhing within the grip of the hands that restrained me, but now it was due to pleasure – to my approaching climax.

Miss Amanda's voice rang out, "Don't let her cum! Stop now!"

The hands all retreated, even those restraining me, leaving me hanging unceremoniously over the man's soaked lap, moaning rather piteously at being denied my orgasm.

Another one of the men complained, "We have not seen her tits yet, Amanda."

In response, Miss Amanda directed me, "Do a striptease for your audience. Just leave on your shoes, garter belt and stockings."

The spanking and all those hands on me had sent me into a deep state of submission.

I stood in the center of the crowd, and turned slowly as I undid the buttons on my blouse.

Once it was fully unbuttoned but still tucked into my skirt, I let it hang open, letting people peek inside the front, as I unbuttoned and unzipped my skirt.

Gyrations of my hips made the skirt slide off and pool around my feet. I stepped free of it.

My blouse hung fully open now, and I leaned forward to let my breasts dangle through the gap. I undid the little white hat, and tossed it aside as my auburn hair tumbled loose onto my shoulders. Swaying my naked hips, I shrugged, and the silky blouse whispered off me, leaving me dressed as commanded – clad in only my garter belt, stockings and shoes.

I raised my arms and let them all have a good look at my body, doing a complete turn before sinking down into a kneeling pose with my thighs wide open, and the back of my hands resting near my knees.

"You said she is here for our pleasure. Does that mean we can fuck her?" a male voice inquired.

Miss Amanda smiled. "Of course. One at a time, or in groups, as you wish. You would like that, would you not, my pet?"

"Yes Miss, I would like that," I whispered shyly.

"No, my girl. You must convince them that you really really want it," she insisted.

I crawled to the man that had spoken.

"Please, Sir. Please may I suck your cock until it is hard, so that you can fuck whatever of my holes you wish to use? I really want to suck your cock. I really want you to fuck me," I implored.

He looked at me quizzically, asking, "You want me to take you to a bedroom, or something?"

I tilted my chin down slightly and lowered my eyes, answering, "If that is your desire, Sir. But you can let me suck your cock and you can fuck me right here, in front of everyone, if you wish."

"Well I for one am not going to pass up this opportunity." Grinning a bit sheepishly, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants and fished his limp cock from his underwear. "Suck me, girl," he demanded.

I lost no time in slipping his cock into my mouth, hearing the gasps of astonishment from not only the women in the room, but several of the men! I licked, sucked, and pumped him into a raging erection, obviously enjoying myself in the process. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some of the other men rubbing their cocks through their pants. More cocks emerged from zippers as the man began fucking me lustily right there on the floor.

Inhibitions were falling away.

Women began exposing their tits, toying with themselves through their panties. Men were getting completely undressed, since the room now felt 20 degrees warmer than before.

One woman beckoned a man, saying, "Charlie, I've always wanted to fuck you. Please come over here and do it to me." He practically tripped in his haste to cross to where she was. She held herself open as he plunged his stiff cock into her. Rather quick on the trigger, he came in a few minutes. After they finished fucking, she said, "Girl, come over here and suck his cum from my pussy, but don't swallow it. Feed it to me."

I crawled over, fastened my lips around her tunnel, and applied a gentle suction. Cum streamed from her and a salty, tangy taste filled my mouth. When I had retrieved as much of the load as I could, I positioned my face above her waiting mouth. As I let the fluid drizzle into her mouth, she reached up, grabbed the back of my head, and drew me into a deep kiss, both of us swallowing cum. As we were kissing, someone slipped his cock into my cunt and started fucking me hard and fast.

After this cock jerked and spewed a cum load into me, Miss Amanda placed a dish on the floor and had me crouch over it and dig the cum from my vagina. It oozed in a white sticky stream onto the plate.

Miss Amanda said, "Let everyone now watch you lick that plate clean." I felt every eye on me as I lapped up every bit.

A general orgy ensued, most of it centered around me. Miss Amanda was in her element, directing what people should do to me, and what I should do to them. I could tell that her classmates were very impressed by her use of the Voice, and her control.

The women discovered that I was a skilled and enthusiastic cunt licker. They opened their thighs and pulled my head into position. My face was soon coated with cunt juice and female cum in a mixture of exotic flavors.

While my mouth was attending to the pleasure of the women, my pose left both my ass hole and pussy available for cocks. The men took full advantage of their availability, seeing to it that one hole or the other was being fucked; sometimes both of them at the same time.

Miss Amanda was monitoring my reactions closely. If she saw that I was getting too close to my climax, she told my partners to ease off, often applying enough pain to my body to derail my orgasm.

During a respite, with everyone in the room sated except me, one of the women asked me, "Why do you submit like this? Why do you let people do such nasty, humiliating things to you?"

I gathered my thoughts, trying to think of a way to explain this clearly. "In my day-to-day life there are rules of society that I must follow. Hidden under my surface are urges, desires and needs that average society would disapprove of greatly. Let me call these kinky desires my inner slut. My inner slut hammers at me constantly, wanting to get out. Submission requires me to obey my Mistress, or others, like Miss Amanda. They not only demand I let that inner slut out – they often push me to the edge of what I think of as my limits, and let me explore the concept of moving a little bit more out of my comfort zone. Even though I may experience humiliation in the process, I feel no guilt, because I am being obedient."

The woman pondered that a moment, and hazarded, "So submitting actually frees you?"

"Yes! That's an excellent way to put it! It gives me an amazing sense of freedom."

Some of the women and men were wide-eyed absorbing this information, and I could see Miss Amanda taking mental notes. It may be that she had discovered some new submissives to play with from among her former classmates.

The evening was drawing to a close, and Miss Amanda was well aware of the pleading expression on my face. Addressing her guests, she said, "My friends, I think that my girl here did such a good job that she deserves a reward." Smiles and clapping indicated that her classmates agreed with her.

"Girl, come up here to the head of the room, where everyone will be able to see you." She placed a large pillow on the floor, and had me brace myself against it. "Show everyone how lovely you are when you masturbate. I want you to shamelessly show us what arouses you the most. Do not be in a hurry to climax. Let it build and build, until you can no longer hold it back."

I nodded vigorously, saying, "Yes Miss Amanda. Thank you, Miss Amanda."

I let my knees fall open from each other, slowly stroked my inner thighs, and then my breasts.

I kept my thighs wide apart to give everyone a good look at my sex, but used my hands in long strokes over my entire torso and legs, bringing up the sensitivity in my skin. I felt my whole body come alive.

Next I moved one hand back to my breast, as the other hand cupped my sex, making tiny hand movements to let one finger glide in the tiny gap between my labia.

I found my hips rising up against that hand, like my pussy was eagerly seeking its attention.

My other hand left my breast, and went down around the outside of my hip and thigh to reach my cunt from below.

Raising that leg from the floor, everyone had a fantastic view of my one hand teasing my clit, as the other plucked at and spread my pussy lips apart, revealing the pink wetness between them.

My clit hand now alternated between my clit and my breast, sensuously caressing my tummy as it traveled between the two locations. I was moaning freely now.

As both my hands played around my cunt, I let the fingers of one hand brush across my anus, too. Sensations rippled through my entire body as I touched myself gently there, where so many nerve endings reside.

As my pussy started weeping my juices, my hand swiped through, gathering the juices, and I smeared them all over my tits, making my nipples stand at turgid attention.