Fun Times before Chem Lab

She was sitting in her Statistics class when her phone vibrated in her pocket. The professor droned on at the front of the class, paying no attention. Carefully, she slid her phone out and onto her desk. The blinking green light was a sight that filled her with equal amounts of dread and excitement. Her stomach lurched in anticipation as she unlocked her screen and opened the message.

Go to the bathroom. Tell me when you're there, he messaged.

As quietly as she could, she shoved her things into her backpack and shuffled out of the back of the room. The professor cleared his throat at the front of the classroom. She couldn't lift her eyes off the floor as the red blush crept up her cheeks. The phone vibrated in her back pocket once more, creating a physical reminder that she wasn't moving fast enough. Locking herself into a bathroom stall, she hurriedly opened up her messages.

I don't have much patience, pet. Move faster.

I'm sorry, Sir. I'm here now, she replied. She hoped she was quick enough; the punishment was awful when he wasn't pleased.

Faster next time, he replied. You know better than to keep me waiting. What do you have in your purse?

The simple question made her quiver in anticipation. Hurriedly, she searched through her purse and found some bobby pins, perfume, a permanent marker, gum, and some spare change. She messaged him the contents and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the growing wetness in her panties that betrayed her.

I want you to suck on your index finger and thumb. Get them good and wet. Then, use them to play with your nipples until they're hard.

Yes, Sir, she replied. It was important that she responded before following the orders. The last time she forgot herself, she hadn't been able to sit down for three days.

Shaky hands unbuttoned her blouse and pulled down the tank top underneath. The push up bra she was instructed to wear was next, as she slid the straps down and flipped the cups down to give her access. Sucking on her fingers for a few seconds, she circled the small buds before pinching and pulling each until they rose into stiff peaks.

Good girl. Now, take a bobby pin and secure each nipple. Send me a picture.

Yes sir, she messaged back. The sting hurt, but it was a familiar discomfort that made her panties grow even wetter. Raising her phone to take a picture pressed her breasts firmly together, causing her nipples to ache worse. She eagerly took the picture and sent it, glad to relieve the pressure.

Good pet. How wet are your panties?

They're soaked, she shamefully admitted. As humiliating as it was to say, she knew the thrill it would give him and hoped it would lessen whatever torture was in mind...the rush it gave her was not important.

Taste it. Stick two of your fingers inside, just enough to get a taste of your own arousal. Of how humiliation turns you on.

Yes, sir. Her right hand unbuttoned and skimmed into the waistband of her jeans, dipping into her own arousal. She hated having to do it, but somehow he always knew if she had followed orders. It was far better to comply and hopefully earn a reward. Her fingers slid in without a problem; it seems she was more turned on than she thought. Her fingers slid into her mouth for her tongue to lick clean.

You like it, don't you? My dirty little pet. Tell me, how important is your next class?

Grimacing, she realized it was her Chem lab. If she didn't go, her grade would be wrecked. Please let me attend my Chemistry lab, Sir. I'll do anything. As soon as she sent the message, she regretted it. Then again, she didn't really have a choice in the matter anyway.

It was a unique arrangement, between the two of them. He generously offered to pay for her tuition, and in return they became more than friends. Over time, it evolved into something that suited them both. He would message her his demands, and she would comply as best she could. Lately, the game had evolved into more. She wasn't sure if the change was a good thing or not; at times the risk made her nervous and uncomfortable, and yet she couldn't deny the feeling it gave her between her legs.

There's my good pet. Now take out the marker.

She bit her lip as she rustled through her purse, hoping for the best.

Write the word "slut" across your breasts. I want anyone who sees you naked to know exactly what you are.

Yes, Sir. The way he phrased it had her concerned. Would other people see her naked? She dared not ask, in case it made him commit to the idea. Even though he hadn't asked for it, she knew he wanted the picture. With the bobby pins still on, she wrote in uppercase letters across the tops of her breasts. After she was done, she realized her mistake. Hopefully it wasn't up far enough to see over the top of her shirt. Pressing her breasts together once more, she took a quick picture and sent it to him.

What a good little slut. Now take the marker and slide it into your cunt.

Yes, Sir. Pulling her jeans down and the crotch of her panties to the side, she gently pushed it in. She realized then how moist she had become; the marker slid out almost instantly, and she had to catch it before it slipped fully out. She pushed it in more firmly this time before putting her panties back in place, which helped keep it in.

Would my little slut like to cum?

Yes, Sir. She doubted she had ever typed a response so quickly.

Such an eager pet. I'll give you a choice. You can either take off the bobby pins, or cum. Either way you'll return to your next class in 5 minutes.

She knew exactly what that meant. If she chose to cum, she'd have exactly five minutes to do so before going back to class with the marker and bobby pins still on. And yet..

Please, Sir, may I cum?

You'll have to do much better than that.

Blushing from what felt like head to toe, she tried again. Please Sir, I'm such a dirty slut. I'm so desperate to cum. Please, will you allow your little pet to cum?

That's better. You may cum.

Thank you, Sir. Moving quickly, her right index finger circled her clit as her left hand worked the marker in and out, in and out. She didn't need the five minutes. With how worked up she was, she barely needed one. The release was instantaneous and powerful. She felt weak at the knees.

One more thing: you're not allowed to clean yourself up. Keep the marker in, fix your clothes, and head off to class.

Yes, Sir. She grimaced as she adjusted her panties. Hopefully it wouldn't show through. She was sure she'd spend the entire lab with her legs crossed, hoping her partner wouldn't notice the current state she was in. She realized the real issue would be the writing across her breasts; she shouldn't have written it so high up.

The push up bra provided enough cushion to disguise the bobby pins, while simultaneously making them more painful, but it also exposed more of her breasts. She would have to constantly pull at her top to ensure it covered everything. Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she prepared herself for what was sure to be a difficult lab.