Finishing up with her

You pull your cock out of Ellie's bouncing cunt with a wet, sucking sound, a satisfied sigh escaping your lips. "Fuck, she's fun. She's going to be a good cunt to pass around at investment parties."

You look down at your cock, slick with Ellie's juices, glistening under the dim light. The slave working the pulley stops, holding Ellie suspended, her body trembling, drool and cum dripping from her gagged mouth. You snap your fingers at the nearest dungeon slave, the one who handled the electrodes.

"You. Here. My cock needs cleaning."

The slave obeys instantly, stepping forward on her heels, her latex-covered body moving with fluid grace. She kneels before you, her masked face tilting up, the oval mouth hole open and waiting. You grab her ponytail, black hair coarse in your grip, and guide your cock toward her lips. She doesn't hesitate—her mouth opens, wet and warm, and you push your shaft past her lips, deep into her throat.

She gags, but her hands grip your thighs, steadying herself as she takes you. You hold her head still, thrusting slowly, using her mouth like a wet rag to clean every inch of your slick skin. Her tongue works frantically, licking up your cum and Ellie's juices, swallowing everything you give her. You groan, feeling the suction, the heat, the absolute submission in her throat.

The other slave moves efficiently behind you, untying Ellie from the pulley, stripping the tape from her mouth, pulling the dildo from her throat with a wet pop. Ellie gasps, coughing, but the slave ignores her, wiping her down with a damp cloth, then lifting her limp body and carrying her back to the glass display cabinet. She locks the door, and Ellie slumps inside, naked, blindfolded, still twitching from the shocks.

You pull your cock out of the dungeon slave's mouth, the sound of her wet lips releasing your shaft echoing in the room. Her mouth stays open, waiting, drool dripping down her chin. You release her ponytail and give her bare, shaven cunt a hard palm smack—a sharp crack that echoes. She flinches but doesn't cry out, her pussy clenching at the sting.

"Good girl. Back to your post."

She rises, standing at attention, her heels clicking as she takes her place by the door. The other slave joins her, both silent, masked, ready.

You tuck your cock back into your trousers and walk out of the correction room, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. The dungeon light flickers, casting long shadows. You find Mr Harrison in the next room, his body pressed against a female student who's bent over a low table, her neck clamped to the floor with a metal ring. He's fucking her from behind, his hips slamming into her tight ass, her face pressed into the cold stone, muffled whimpers escaping her lips.

He looks up as you enter, his rhythm never faltering. "How did you get on with Ellie?"

"Perfect," you say, leaning against the doorframe, watching him work. "She's a natural cocksleeve. Going to be a hit at the investment parties. Miss Baker is already designing her uniform—emphasizing those G-cups."

Mr Harrison grins, sweat beading on his forehead. "Good. She needs to learn her place. I'll have her ready for class by Monday."

"I'm looking forward to seeing her in a tartan skirt," you reply, your eyes drifting to the student's spread legs, her pussy red and swollen from his pounding. "Don't wear her out too much."

He laughs, a low grunt. "Never."

You leave him to his work and head back to the main office. The corridor is quiet, the sound of distant moans and the hum of machinery fading behind you. You push open the office door and find Amber at her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard, her body shifting awkwardly in her chair. She's wearing a simple white shirt, unbuttoned enough to show the curve of her cleavage, and you can see the slight bulge of the dildo base pressing against her skirt, keeping her impaled.

She looks up as you enter, a flush rising to her cheeks. "How was your meeting?"

You walk around her desk, your eyes fixed on her tits straining against the fabric. "Productive. Ellie's going to be a star. Mr Harrison's got her prepped for uniform training."

You stop beside her chair, your hand reaching out to cup her left breast through her shirt. She gasps, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. Her nipple is hard, pressing against the fabric. You squeeze gently, feeling the weight, the heat.

"Amber," you say, your voice low, "you remember when you were a student, don't you? Bent over this same desk, skirt up, begging me to fuck you?"

She bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed. "Yes, sir."

"Good," you say, your thumb rolling over her nipple. "Because I haven't forgotten. You were a greedy little slut back then, and you're still a greedy little slut now."