Chapter 4
1693 Words
I sit in my chair at the dining room table, Father sits at the end of the table. Mom is away, so it it's just the two of us sharing breakfast, which is just as well, at least that's what I tell him, laying it on thick, pretending to be embarrassed, humiliated, even getting my lips to quiver, little crocodile tears to form in my eyes.
Once I'm done, Father looks at me, clears his throat, then asks the breakfast attendant to fetch Ms. Tanner.
A few minutes later she walks into the dining room.
“Ms. Tanner,” Father begins. “Mackenzie here tells me you resorted to corporal punishment yesterday,” he says.
She nods.
“You paddled my daughter?” He stands, towering over the table now. “You yanked her shorts away, until she was naked from the waist down, and you paddled her?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, staring directly at father, not flinching a bit.
He stands, staring at her for a few moments, as if contemplating what next to do. “Very well, Ms. Tanner. As I said when I employed you, based upon your references, I have complete and utter faith in your methods. Continue on as you see fit.”
My breath catches in my throat, my heart seems to momentarily freeze. I glance at Father, who is looming over me, staring down at me. “Mackenzie, please excuse yourself from the table. Breakfast is finished, and it is time for you to accompany Ms. Tanner for your daily instructions.”
I stare up at Father for a moment, give a weak “May I be excused,” then I stand and walk, following Ms. Tanner. I'm...I'm beyond a loss of words. I can't even form a thought, nothing but confusion and fear welling in me as I follow her down the hallway, up the stairs, then down the long upstairs hallway, past my room, past the school suite, to her quarters. She has a spacious bedroom with her own bathroom, a sitting room, and a small outer chamber – I told you we're rich, living in an old manor house that's something like 140 years old.
She takes my hand, guides me inside, shutting the door behind me, then slipping the lock in place.
“Please, Ms. Tanner,” I whimper.
“Sush,” she whispers, finger against my lips, little jolt of electricity running through me at her touch. She leads me to her bedroom, then tells me to disrobe.
“What?”
“Disrobe. You attempt to discredit me, you attempt to have me fired, now you must do your penance.”
“f**k that,” I say, anger suddenly rising, filling me, bringing me out of my stupor.
She laughs, then quickly, before I could realize what she was doing, she whipped a pair of handcuffs from the folds of her dress, slapping them on my wrists, then she yanked me across the room – again, her strength surprising – to this small bench with a pad on the top. She forced me down on it, lying across the bench, then secured the cuffs to the bottom of the bench, so that I was lying across it, face down, arms and head hanging over one end, legs hanging off the other end. I squirmed and fought and tried to resist as she pulled my legs down, cuffing my knees to the legs on the opposite end of the bench, so that I was bound, stretching across it.
Ms. Tanner was behind me, where I couldn't see her, but I heard rustling, cloth against skin, then I saw out of the corner of my eye clothes – her clothes – falling to the floor.
She walked around in front of me again, and I gasped.
Mrs. Tanner was beautiful—her coal-black hair now down, spilling over her shoulders, so long it almost covered her breasts. Those boobs were large – oh, so much larger than they appeared in her frumpy old dresses. She was slender, with long, muscular legs, and smooth, perfect skin.
But what caught my attention, what made my heart stop, made my lungs seize up, was that massive, long, thick, hard d**k hanging between her legs.
She had a small, thin cunt behind it, so she was definitely a woman. But she was also a man?
She laughed, grabbing my hair, yanking my head, arching my neck, forcing my face upward while she slapped that c**k against my face, pressing the tip to my mouth.
“Never seen a futanari before?”
“A...what?” I whimper.
“A futanari. You can just call me a futa, for short. I'm not entirely human, at least not like you understand. I'm female...” she paused, slipping her fingers inside that tiny little p***y, her body shuddering as she did, a small gasp escaping her mouth. “And, I'm male,” she said, pulling her fingers out, wrapping that hand around her c**k, stroking up and down as it grew even longer, thicker. “And today, I'm going to teach you never to backstab me.”
With that she released my head, walked around behind me. I cry out when she grabs my skirt, flips it up over my ass, rips my panties away. She slaps my ass. I cry out, and she continues, s******g me with her bare hand, smacking over and over. I shudder, begin to weep – the pain is intense, and the confusion overwhelming – confusion because I feel that same little jag of arousal zig-zagging through me with each slap on my ass, growing, gripping me, mixing with the pain, heightening my arousal.
She stops.
I whimper, try to look around, see what she's doing, and then I feel her hands, on my ass cheeks – they're so sore now, so tender, just her hands on me hurt – and then she slides those hands down between my legs, forcing my legs as wide as she can with my knees cuffed to the bench, fingers playing across my slit.
I cry out, struggling, flailing as much as I can bound in this position. Dreams of s*x, fantasies are nice, but I've never...I mean, no one has ever...I'm a virgin. And the prospect of now being taken scares me.
“Please, Ms. Tanner, please, I'll never do it agai—”
My voice dies off, a cry rising from inside, spilling from my mouth as I feel the tip of that woman-c**k against my p***y for a moment before she plunges in. I scream as she goes deep, hands around my p***y, stretching me wide, holding me open as she rams, sinking that entire, massive, futa c**k in my tight, tender, pure, virgin p***y.
She pulls back and rams again, pain erupting from between my legs. She pulls back and pounds against me again, thrusting now, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, her body slapping loudly against mine, smashing against my oh-so-tender ass, that d**k ramming me, filling me, stretching me.
I feel Ms. Tanner's arm sliding across my back, her hand on the back of my head, fingers wrapping up in my hair, yanking my head back now, craning my neck as she f***s me. Oh, Lord in heaven she f***s.
Over and over she goes deep. I whimper, squeal, sob openly, my body shuddering now, out of control, every muscle seizing up, contracting, convulsing, lungs burning, heard pounding, as o****m grips me. I'm f*****g cumming!
I moan, loudly, deeply, sounds I've never known coming from deep within me, sensations I've never imagined gripping every muscle, blood so hot it feels like lava pumping through my veins. I scream now, a loud, full-throated scream, sweat dripping from my body as Ms. Tanner pounds and pounds and pounds, f*****g me for God-only knows how long. I know, despite my purity and innocence, no man can last this long. Yet she just keeps pound, grunting, groaning, her body shaking violently as she f***s me.
And then I feel it – like an explosion inside me, Ms. Tanner cums. She cums hard, her c*m firing from that futa c**k, hot and thick and strong, splashing against me, inside me, running into every crevice – I can actually feel it inside me, filling me, now spilling out, running from my p***y, dribbling down my thighs.
She keeps cumming and cumming, and my body responds, cumming harder now, body shaking violently, heart feeling as if might just burst from inside, lungs on fire as I struggle to gulp in enough air.
“f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k!!!” I scream, unable to form another word, unable to form another thought.
We go on like that forever, until I feel as if I might pass out. That's when Ms. Tanner stabs my p***y with that c**k one more, brutally violent time, another sharp wave of c****x washing over me, then she slows, releases my hair, pulls out. I lay there, over the bench, gasping, drooling, body shuddering with the fading o****m, as she slaps my ass again, a second time, then a third.
I lay there, saliva on my face, drooling from my chin, c*m running down my legs, ass on fire, p***y tender and sore.
She walks back around in front of me, hair all drawn up into that bun, frumpy old teacher's dress back on, covering that body of hers. Ms. Tanner squats down, grabs my hair, lifts my head back so she's staring into my eyes.
“I'll leave you here for a while, let you think about your transgressions,” she says. “And then we'll return to your school, with no more trouble, understand?”
I nod, but deep down I know there will be more trouble. Just the touch of her hand in my hair, the feel of her breath on my face, sends faint little tremors of arousal through me, and I know, down deep in my heart, if trouble brings out that futa c**k, then trouble I will cause. Again and again and again...
The End
- Writer
