Lucy

It's Lucy and her behavior is just beyond the pale, completely inappropriate, obscene even! "Lucy, what do you think you're doing?" You loom above her desk like an unwanted fart.

"Texting?" She holds up her phone, and dangling from her hands are flip flops! She had the thong of each threaded between her fingers so the whole sandal just hangs off of her hand like a pair of incredibly awkward bracelets. Sure it's uncomfortable, but it's not quite having shoes on your hands, is it? Compared to that, this is a luxury.

"You're in violation of your uniform." You inform her, crossing your arms.

"No I'm not. You said I have to wear footwear on my hands, and I am." She holds up the sandals so they dangle in front of your face mockingly.

"Alright." You nod your head. "I'll admit it, you're smarter than me. " She smirks and takes no small amount of satisfaction in that confession. "But I also remember saying that I never want to see your hands again." You grab her wrist and inspect her. "And I mean, I'm seeing full frontal nudity here, it's obscene. I see your fingers ,your nails, your palms, this cute little freckle." She rips her hand away from you. "Don't you think that's distracting for the rest of the class?"

"Stella's naked!"

"Exactly! She can follow the dress code why can't you?" You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'm going to have to punish you Lucy."

"No!"

"I'm sorry. I don't want to, but I gotta. First we have to correct this uniform situation." You glance around the room and see Tabitha standing against a wall in socks, panties, and a shirt. "Hey Tabitha, give me your socks."

She looks over at her twin. "But today is my turn to wear socks." She says meekly.

You scrunch your eyebrows. "Oooookay? Anyway, fork them over." She pouts but eventually takes them off, balls them up, and throws them at your face. "Thank you kindly." You hold out the blue knee highs to Lucy. "Put these on so we don't have to see those disgusting hands of yours girl."

She slides them on like mitts, and sighs. She bunches them around her wrists, and quickly raises them to her nose to try to get a covert sniff. She's pleased to find that they still smell like laundry. Could have been worse.

"Good grief Lucy, these are knee highs." You take the socks and roll them up over her forearms like they're some serious surgical gloves. "Are you stupid.?"

"No." She mumbles defensively. She's tired of making a scene, because the entire classroom is already wrapped watching your disciplinary performance.

"Good. Now before we pop those flip flops back on it's time for your punishment." You pull out your fully hard pecker and place it in her capable hands. "One footjob please."

The entire class gasps, and draws closer.

"No way, no way no way no way!" She squawks. "You can't fucking do this!"

You clasp both of her sock covered hands and start helping her jerk you off. "Hey, you're the one who broke the rules, not me. Now less talk, and more sock." When you release your hands she's jerking you off on her own, and you feel satisfied that you've finally found the one thing Lucy isn't good at. Her ministrations are slow and jerky, but the texture of her hands and the sheer perversion of the situation go a long way.

"Please look at my tits, she's actually doing it!" Stella cheers pointing and laughing at Lucy.

You do as she says and look over at Stella's fabulous dangling tits. "Thank you for you willingness to help Stella. I'm sure looking at your boobs will end her punishment quicker. If you want we can get you some real clothes. Pops some socks on, and help Lucy out."

"Please look at my tits, no thanks. I'm good, thank you. Thank you." She shuts up, but doesn't have the will to hide herself from your leering eyes.

You turn your attention back to Lucy. "You're doing a great job, I'm almost there." She seems relieved and panicked all at once. Obviously worried about what you finishing will mean for her and her clothes. "Your breath is getting heavier." You say suddenly. "You're blushing, and hoping that no one notices the puddle forming in your seat. You're so embarrassed and ashamed, so why are you so horny? Is it the humiliation turning you on? Or is it this clownish sex act you're being **** to perform? I want you to think about it. Fantasize about it. Every once in a while just lay back during the night and dream about skipping Yale, and living this sort of life. Becoming a four footed whore, or niche porn star. Just think about it, fantasize, masturbate to it."

She begins to rub faster with short gasping breaths.

That was a little trick you picked up during the end of the world, pretty cool huh?

"I'm so fucked up." She whispers to herself. Totally enthralled by what she's being **** to do. She can't believe how hot this is. How horny it's making her. Is she a slut? She things she might be a slut. What's everybody thinking? Can they tell how wet she is? Can they smell her? Hear the squishing of her panties? She hopes not, but why would it be so hot if they did? What are these feelings, and who is this person thinking them? This footjob giving freak had never lived in her head before, but now here it was, giving her ideas.

It's too much for you. You groan and lean back. "Grab my head." You command.

Like a kitten pouncing on a mouse with her little mittens, she grasps your head with her hands and holds tight. You explode with a grunt. White spunk shoots out the cracks in her hands, but for the most part she catches it all on the socks. You pull out, and white yourself on her hands before tucking yourself in. "Good job." You congratulate. "Punishment complete."

There's no sign that she heard your complement. She just stares silently at her jizz covered hands, watching it soak into her socks, while a great battle takes place within her soul. Her true self the uppity perfect bitch, and this perverted little clown you just created. It's a conflict you'll be watching with great interest.

But for now you grab her wrists once more and **** her to rub your sperm into her hands like she's washing them. You make sure everything is nice and slimey before you slide her sandals back where they belong. Her ability to use her fingers was once more been neutralized. You look at her wet , bound hands and feel a sense of pride and power. "Socks and Sandals Lucy?" You cluck your tongue. "How tacky."