Dorothy Submits

"Don't lie girl!" he raged at her. "Is that skirt you are wearing regulation? It looks uncommonly short and indecorous to me. Stand there, up straight, back arched, chest out, hands upon head, I shall check!"

As Dorothy complied she reflected on his cunning, tits thrust out, bum thrust out now she really did look indecorous, even lewd. She giggled as Mr. Smith went over to his desk and returned brandishing a wooden ruler. He knelt before her and began to measure. "Six inches above the knee young lady and the rules state no more than three. Moreover, this is causing you to exhibit a vast expanse of bare flesh, more than a decent girl of your age ought; outrageous. I repeat outrageous"

Dorothy, ever conscious of the vastness of her thighs, actually blushed at that point, but not from either shame nor embarrassment. He pussy was suggesting to her that she was rather enjoying all this inappropriate attention.

"Well what else is non-regulation? Your blouse and tie look correct, though I do wish you girls could learn to tie a tie correctly, single, tight Windsor knot will do. Your socks are acceptable and your shoes are flat, black and matt as prescribed. And you knickers, miss? They are regulation grey aren't they? Raise the hem of your skirt, show me."

"Sir?" Dorothy spluttered.

"Come on girl, chop-chop. No shilly-shallying here. You have already been judged to be lewd and licentious, faux modesty is hardly appropriate from you young lady. You can show me your regulation knickers can't you? Or is there something depraved and indecent under your skirt?"

Dorothy bit her bottom lip anxiously, gripped the hem of her skirt and raised it high. "Well my girl you most certainly are lewd and lascivious, no wonder you were so nervous and, I might add, that is a very hairy bush you have there. So you little bare arsed show-off, you are a slut. In the future don't you dare come all coy with me again. Turn around and around slowly, since you expose it so brazenly, I might as well see your all." As she rotated he tutted. "Disgusting. Depraved. Slut. Common whore," and he went on to make any number of other disparaging remarks.

To her great embarrassment Dorothy felt her pussy moisten yet further as she was subjected to the unceasing stream of verbal abuse. She was particularly embarrassed because the experience of being berated and degraded in this manner was really turning her on. It was, she decided, exquisitely humiliating; her embarrassment was goading her up to even higher levels of need and lust causing her yet further embarrassment which, in its turn... She was locked in a cycle of spiralling desire. She understood that orgasm was the only lasting way out and she wanted to come, no wanted to be made to come, just as soon as she could arrange it.

"Skirt down whore. Anything else girl? Let me see." Mr. Smith began to pace around Dorothy slowly all the while glaring at her ferociously. Subjected to that merciless stare the butterflies in the bottom of her tummy rose and began to perform summersaults. "You do have a bra on, don't you girl. Big girl like you can't be braless. Can you?" he peered at her earnestly and knowingly over his half-eyes. "So," he chuckled mirthlessly, "you won't mind doing ten star jumps for me."

Now Dorothy was truly alarmed, her breasts were truly huge and ten star jumps would genuinely hurt like hell. "Please sir, I can't manage that," she quavered.

"What's the problem? No bra after all, eh?" he growled."

"No Sir," Dorothy muttered to her shoes.

"Louder girl."

No Sir," she repeated more distinctly.

"Well, girl, show me. Don't pretend to be shocked, you've been asking for this, unbutton your blouse this instant." As Dorothy did so her huge breasts tumbled free and Mr. Smith began a new tirade at Dorothy. "What a whore you are. Short skirt, no knickers, no bra. Spread you legs whore." When she did so Mr. Smith placed a hand upon her plump white thighs and then felt between them, his fingers parting her lips to explore her sex. She shuddered uncontrollably as the pads of his probing and dexterous digits ran over her clit. She gasped aloud when his thumb followed a second or so later. "My word, my little slut, my decadent whorelet, you are wet aren't you? Answer me slut. Are you wet?"

"Yes Sir," Dorothy mumbled. This time she felt truly humbled because she was not simply wet but soaking and, whatever Mr. Smith was doing with his inquisitive fingers, was making her yet wetter still. Dorothy began to sob with delight as she felt her orgasm building, Mr. Smith's probing was teasing and tickling all the right spots, all her secret little places. She bit her lips, snorted loudly through her nose, here it...

"Damn you," she swore aloud when he stopped abruptly and withdrew his hand.

"Pardon girl. Did I hear that right? Did you just swear at me?"

"Sorry sir." Dorothy hung her head.

"And what prompted that foul mouthed outburst girl?"

"Sorry Sir. please Sir it won't happen again Sir. I'm very sorry Sir." She put a little break in her voice, almost a sob.

"I asked you a question girl! Now never mind grovelling and prevaricating. Answer my question girl. What prompted you to swear at me?"

"Sir..." Dorothy stammered.

"Yes girl. Spit it out."

"Sir, I almost came." This confession delivered all in a rush.

"What girl! Rubbing my fingers between your legs like this is enough to make you sexually aroused?" And Mr. Smith began explore and to tease her hungry pussy once more.

"Oh God, yes Sir," Dorothy mewed, her knees buckling as her orgasm rapidly rebuilt.

"Then I had best stop," and for a second time Mr. Smith left her panting and gasping with frustration, right on the very edge of a much wanted and even more desired climax. Dorothy stood there trying desperately to steady her breathing. She had never been teased like this before and to be brought to the verge of a climax twice in succession where each time she was denied that final release left her head swimming. She was so absorbed in her misfortune that she almost missed Mr. Smith's next demand.

"So slut you want to come?" He paused for a couple of seconds then shouted, articulating exaggeratedly, "I enquired you if you wanted to come!"

"Yes Sir. Oh yes please Sir." Surprised by her own earnestness Dorothy blushed for a second time.

"If a wonton, lascivious whore like yourself wants to come then she must ask my permission?"

"Please Sir may I come," Dorothy almost sobbed out, she was desperate but humiliated too and she was enjoying it.

"You may come slut. But presently, first raise your skirt high, go sit on that chair there, ensure that your legs spread wide and make sure you keep them that way." Dorothy did as she was bid. "Now show me how a feckless trollop like yourself masturbates. I want a long slow display of just how you make yourself come. I want to observe your own fingers slithering about in your own disgusting wetness, taking you closer and closer. Come on, rub that slot, finger that twat, show me what you do to yourself when you are randy."

As Dorothy began to rub her pussy, her fingers concentrating their efforts on her swollen red clitoris, Mr. Smith knelt to watch his head close to her frantically frigging fingers. Both the tempo and the volume of her sighs, moans and groans began to increase. Dorothy half closed her eyes, some of her breath came in snorts through her nose and finally with an enormous sigh she... She screamed and snatched her hand away.

"What..." she exclaimed, her knuckles burning with red fire.

"Did I say you could come?" Mr. Smith demanded sharply.

"Um. I guess. Well yes Sir; you said, you wanted to see how I made myself come,' Sir!"

"Exactly so, I said that I wanted to see how you make yourself come. I did not, however, say that I wanted to see you come: stupid, disobedient wilful, lustful, slut. Still a ruler tapped smartly upon the knuckles stopped that soon enough, didn't it girl?" and he chuckled and chortled as if rapping her knuckles painfully hard were some huge joke.

"Yes Sir," Dorothy sighed, her hand still throbbing and stinging.

"Right, when I return you are to start rubbing your pussy once more for me and this time you are to carry on until you achieve orgasm. But, young lady you are to keep those legs spread wide apart the whole time, I want a grandstand view of the whole procedure, remember you are coming for my viewing pleasure not your own carnal gratification." Mr. Smith stood, went over to his desk, took something from a drawer, returned and resumed his position, sitting with his head located between Dorothy's well splayed thighs. He chuckled he could see that Dorothy's puckered anus was contracting rhythmically a sure sign of sexual tension and, in his experience a sovereign indicator of her need for release.

As soon as he was comfortable Dorothy recommenced rubbing vigorously. Her sighs and cries grew louder and faster, her pussy began to dribble with female nectar, she bit her bottom lip, half closed her eyes and with a terrific shudder came explosively. As she relaxed firm hands forced her to keep her legs splayed wide and then she screamed, "stop. Stop. For fuck's sake stop that. Can't. Stop. Please. No! Too sensitive. Please."

Post climax Dorothy's clit was exquisitely sensitive and Mr. Smith had pressed a large vibrator, set to its maximum speed, against it firmly and held it there. Dorothy thrashed and convulsed, screamed and squealed, the sensation was simply too much for her to bear. To her immense relief Mr. Smith abruptly removed the ferociously buzzing monster. "Well if you can't stand to come again I certainly can so, unless you want me to resume working on your clit like that, you had better decide how best to deliver my pleasure and satisfaction to me.

"Yes Sir. Please Sir, sit here Sir," Dorothy gabbled, insanely relieved and actually grateful to him for ceasing to torment her. As she rose to her feet Mr. Smith sat and once he was settled she knelt before him. She unfastened the waistband of his trousers and unzipped his zipper. She felt inside his underpants and gently eased his stiff member free. It was not the longest cock she had ever seen, nor was it the fattest she had ever encountered but it was the most knobbly and gnarled she had come across.

Inside her head Dorothy had been conducting a fierce debate: hand, mouth or pussy. Hand and he would splatter his smelly stuff everywhere. Mouth and she would have to taste and swallow his thick sticky mess; she knew that with Mr. Smith spit would not be an option. Pussy? Well Dorothy had not actually considered that things might go that far. But then, whilst the orgasm had been overpowering, perhaps her best ever: that vibrator afterwards! It might have been impossible to take but when it had stopped it left her needy, very randy and very, very willing again. Dorothy wanted more. Dorothy was desperate for more.

She straddled Mr. Smith and then, before she gave herself time to change her mind, she impaled her sex upon his stiff and visibly throbbing manhood. Once she had eased his stiff cock inside of her she began to bob up and down with abandon her breasts bouncing alarmingly. Upon her third stroke she caught her clit on his pubic bone. A warm joy coursed through her. With the next bounce she made the impact a little harder, the flood was larger, the joy more joyful. Soon Dorothy was riding Mr. Smith hard, obsessed with her own pleasure she was wholly oblivious to his reactions. Her motions were driven entirely by the blissful sensations emanating from her clitoris and her own unbridled lust. Continuous strong stimulation might have been too much for her tender post-orgasmic clit but intermittent jolts of pleasure were exactly what she needed to bring her to a screaming powerful orgasm for a second time.

She bobbed and bucked fast, frenzied and frantic and when she did come her orgasm was literally screamingly powerful. Fortunately for Dorothy this was all too much for Mr. Smith. As she shrieked her pleasure out aloud, shrill as a steam whistle, he sighed and groaned his out in a series of deep guttural grunts of pure bliss as he pumped gobbet after gobbet of this thick white seed deep within her womanhood. When they were done she collapsed on top of him and both lolled there in the chair, panting hard, utterly sated, utterly exhausted.

Dorothy surfaced to reality when Mr. Smith asked in a very refined voice, "if she would be so generous as to split the last of the champagne with him?"

"Oh God yes," she wheezed, sitting up too quickly, making her head spin. Dorothy was floating, she was so replete, so satisfied, at last she had discovered just how pleasurable sex could be. So utterly, so devastatingly divine and no one had told her, no one had shown her. Why hadn't Mr. Smith. Of course she had been too young then and he was her teacher. The trouble he would have been in if he had and then someone had found out. Thank God he'd taught her at last she reflected, sipping her champagne luxuriantly. Dorothy had two great passions now and both thanks to Mr. Smith. But where to find such delights again? The boys she had been with had no idea, not the least vestige of a clue. Then she realised, with Mr. Smith of course. If he could do this once he could do it to her again, and then again and again after that.

Mr. Smith sipped his champagne far more slowly. Dorothy's reactions had been perfect. As he had supposed she was a near optimal subject, introverted on the outside but wanton and willing on the inside and so submissive too, what a bonus that would be. Whilst she sat radiating her satisfaction, little calculating expressions flitting across her face as she plotted how to lure Mr. Smith he sat poker faced planning how to seduce her and bind her to him with hoops of brass.

How deeply would she commit he wondered, she had come on far faster than he had dared to hope and when she had impaled herself upon his member. Well, reflected Mr. Smith, it had taken lot of self control not to come immediately. And it was years since he had come that quickly and easily, decades since he had erupted quite so violently and with so many spurts. One last test he decided before she went home. One final humiliation and if she succumbed then he would know she could be his to degrade and torment as much as it pleased him. All it would require was patience and training on his part.

"Dorothy. Look I'm limp and damp and smelly," he was pointing at his now flaccid member. if you truly are my slut crawl over here and lick me clean again in preparation for our next time."

Dorothy got the message alright. One last humiliation and you'll be invited back. So, with a shudder because the taste and smell of semen could so easily make her retch, she dropped onto all fours and scuttled over to Mr. Smith. She mustered as much saliva as she could summon to dilute the taste and took his slack but still not totally deflated member in her mouth.

"Peel back the foreskin girl. I'd hate you to miss any." She was smitten, without question or hesitation she rolled the loose skin back and sucked and slurped upon his spent cock. Mr. Smith smiled, this was going even better than he had imagined. When he felt his rod in danger of resurrecting he said, "thank you Dorothy. Sit in the chair once more, skirt raised high, legs splayed wide so I have a clear view of your oozing sex."

When she was positioned to his satisfaction he walked across, knelt before her, set the vibrator to maximum once more and applied the buzzing phallus to her slippery slot. Dorothy tensed, readying herself for the almost painful sensation that the dreadful toy was about to deliver to her over sensitised clit. But her clitoris had relaxed and instead of a pleasure so intense it was agonising she felt a glorious warmth invade her sex once again. She closed her eyes, flared her nostrils, relaxed and indulged. Mr. Smith was equally indulgent with her and was soon treated to the sound of her cries, whimpers and whispers as she climaxed for a third time. Not so hard as the previous two, to judge from her mewling, but definitely longer and probably the most deeply satisfying of all.

When she was done Mr. Smith whispered, "Well Dorothy you've paid your debt alright and with interest, compound interest at that. But if you want to share another session of indulgence with me just say yes and I will arrange everything."

Oblivious to the menacing undertone of his suggestion Dorothy whispered back, "Oh my God. Yes please Sir! And, Sir, make it soon too."