Student keyholder

And there he was, buckling over, gritting his teeth and trying to hide the pain. I had it confirmed.

Dr. Oswalt had been glancing at his female students more and more over the past few weeks. I wasn't the first to notice. I remember Leanne pointing it out to me way back in October. But after that, it seemed obvious. He was constantly taking looks at my tits, and everybody else's. I remember the theories … he wasn't banging his wife anymore, he was just becoming a creepy old man, etc.

I recognized it, though. I could see the anxiety and frustration. None of the other girls knew, but I knew the look of chastity. I couldn't say for certain if it was his wife enforcing it (I wasn't even sure if he was married, being only in his late 20s, besides having a hell of a body) or he was doing it to himself, but I could recognize the anguish because of my experience. My mom kept my dad locked for almost his entire life -- in fact, his only two orgasms since they started dating were to create me and my brother. When I was 14, mom told me about it. Last year, she gave me his key as a birthday present, and I was already holding my brother's. (He was locked up even before his first orgasm. I'm planning on never letting him cum, ever.)

Anyway, back to Dr. Oswalt. Most of the other girls were severely disappointed. He was one of the more popular teachers at school. Me, I was so excited for a new opportunity to tease. I kept dressing in slutty outfits. Nobody understood what was going on and why I was acting this way. Blueballing all the boys in the hallway was an added bonus, but I learned from the best of the best when it came to tease and denial (my mom), and I was not going to leave this opportunity behind. Dr. Oswalt's lectures kept becoming a little more incomprehensible.

Then, one day, he was called out of the classroom for a moment. I sat by the door, and as he left, he dropped a tiny piece of metal from his pocket. I snatched it up. It was his key.

Well, for one thing, I knew he wasn't as bright as the school tried to make him out to be. How could he be so careless with his key? I also knew he was very daring. I recognized the model. It was SPIKED. He was a very daring boy. Those spikes would dig into his flesh every time he got an erection. But more importantly, up until now, he didn't have a keyholder. He had not lived out his fantasy fully.

Well, that was about to change.

The next day, I dressed in fuck-me boots, a corset and a short leather skirt with nothing under it, put the key on a necklace, and went in early. There was still a possibility, however slim, that I had misunderstood what was going on. I had to confirm it. I put the necklace around my neck but hid the key under my corset.

When I got to his office, he saw me and started almost stuttering. I made up some crap about not understanding the material, blah blah blah, then I said I wanted to show him something in one of the textbooks. Lucky for me, his bookshelf extended all the way to the floor. So I walked over there, and without bending my knees, reached for a book on the bottom shelf, giving him a full view of my shaved young cunt. The loud groan, which he tried to cover up, made it all obvious.

Before getting back up, I slipped the key out of my shirt to let it dangle in full sight, but I decided to toy with him some more. I stood up so that the book was hiding the key, then walked back to his desk. He was sweating. I placed the book on the desk, just to see how long it would take for him to know where to look. It didn't take long at all.

I don't think I'll ever forget the size of his eyes when he saw the key.

He babbled for a moment. I think he would have handled the situation better if not for his ever-growing level of sexual frustration. I expected him to try to cover his tracks better. "Oh, Carissa! You found the key to my gym locker!" Oh, he was well past the point of rational thought. He sat up and demanded his key back. I think he assumed I didn't know what it was.

I giggled and sat on his desk. "Oh, Dr. Oswalt. You're just like my brother. At first, he frequently demanded to be unlocked, thinking it would help. Pretty soon, the demanding turned to begging, which is no more effective but much more fun for me. Begging turns to crying, and that just fucking sends me over. Of course, the longer he stays locked, the more excited he is when he eats me. Mom says that's the same for all men, but fortunately for me, I got possession of my father when he was already past the demanding phase. You've just started, so I still have to break you, but don't worry, we'll get there."

"Carissa, you can't do this!"

"Tsk tsp, demanding again. Why can't I? You fantasized about this, and now it's coming true, and you don't want it? Tough, boy. You're my property now. And you'll call me Mistress Carissa." I stood up. "Now get your clothes off, get on all fours and lick my boots."

His hands went slowly to the knot of his tie. They trembled, trying to decide if he was going to obey.