He finds himself in Mrs Reed's class

Jaden looked around him, he was already in the classroom, Mrs. Reed’s third-period trig room, sunlight slanting through the half-closed blinds in dusty golden bars across the desks. The bell had rung minutes ago; the last students had filed out, chattering about weekend plans. He’d lingered at his seat, heart hammering, pretending to pack his bag slowly until the room emptied. She’d taken his bait earlier, his quiet request after class to “talk about something private.” She’d smiled that gentle, encouraging smile and told him to stay behind.

Now it was just the two of them.

Mrs. Reed, Ms. Harper Reed, twenty-nine, gorgeous in that effortless, approachable way that made half the guys in class stutter, was perched on the edge of her desk, legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded in her lap. She wore her usual professional-but-feminine look: fitted white blouse tucked into a navy knee-length pencil skirt, the top two buttons undone just enough to hint at the soft swell of her C-cup breasts. Her chestnut hair was cut in a sleek, chin-length bob that framed her face perfectly, side-swept bangs brushing one eyebrow, the rest falling smooth and glossy. Warm hazel eyes behind delicate gold-rimmed glasses, full lips painted a soft rose, and that comforting smile she always wore when a student needed her. She looked patient. Kind. As always.

“So, Jaden,” she said softly, tilting her head. “What’s on your mind? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

He didn’t answer with words.

His hand moved almost on autopilot, sliding into his pocket, fingers closing around the small fob. He pulled it out, thumb hovering over the single red button.

Her brows furrowed in confusion as he raised it.

“Jaden…?”

He pressed.

A thin, pulsing beam of violet-red light shot out and struck her square in the center of her forehead.

For one heartbeat, nothing.

Then her eyes widened, just a flicker of alarm before the light behind them dulled. Her pupils dilated, then shrank to pinpricks. Her shoulders sagged; her posture loosened like strings had been cut. She stared straight ahead, unblinking, lips parted slightly, breathing slow and even.

The beam flickered once, bright, then gone.

Jaden jabbed the button again. Nothing. Pointed it at the floor, nothing. Pressed harder, faster, still nothing. The device was dead. Or spent. Or whatever the fuck it did after use.

He slipped it back into his pocket with shaking fingers and looked at her.

She looked so… ****.

Sitting there, blank-faced, waiting. The blouse stretched just a little tighter across her breasts with each slow breath. He’d had a crush on her since the first day of class, her patient explanations, the way she’d laugh softly at his dumb jokes, the occasional glimpse of cleavage when she leaned over to check his work. He’d jerked off thinking about her more times than he could count.

His hand moved before his brain could stop it, reaching out, cupping one full breast through the thin fabric of her blouse. Soft. Warm. Heavy in his palm. His thumb brushed over the nipple; it hardened instantly under the cotton.

He froze.

Shame slammed into him.

He yanked his hand back, face burning.

“Mrs. Reed… can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately. Voice flat, monotone, but clear.

“You’ll… you’ll do whatever I want you to?”

“Yes, Master.”

The word, Master, hit him like a lightning bolt straight to his cock. It twitched hard in his jeans, thickening painfully fast.

He swallowed. “What if I asked you to… act like a chicken?”

“I would act like a chicken for you, Master.”

Jesus Christ.

He had to know. Had to make sure it worked. Zack wouldn’t let him off easy if it didn’t, right?

“Uh… act like a chicken for me.”

Mrs. Reed rose smoothly from the desk. She bent at the waist, tucked her balled-up fists under her armpits and started flapping her elbows. “Bawk! Bawk-bawk-bawk!” she clucked loudly, voice still eerily monotone even as she waddled in frantic circles around the room, skirt riding up her thighs, heels clicking, bob swinging wildly.

For a second Jaden was aroused by how the woman he adored so much was humiliating herself like this at his command before panic filled his mind. They were in class. Anyone could catch them if she made so much noise.

He tried to grab her but she seemed to dodge him every time he tried to grab her. His blood ran cold when he saw him moving towards the door.

Jaden’s eyes went wide. “Shit—stop! Stop!”

She froze mid-step, elbows still tucked, one foot lifted like a cartoon bird, perfectly still.

He rushed forward, heart pounding, and guided her back to the chair by the shoulders. She sat obediently, hands in her lap, staring straight ahead.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Still two hours until he had to deliver her to Zack. Plenty of time.

He crossed to the door on numb legs and turned the lock with a soft click.

Then he came back.

“Mrs. Reed… give me a handjob.”

He told himself a handjob couldn’t hurt. Just to test. Just to be sure.

She reached out without hesitation, fingers deft, unzipping him, pulling his aching cock free. Her touch was warm, confident and practiced. She wrapped her hand around him, firm grip, thumb circling the head to spread the bead of pre-cum already leaking there, then started stroking. Slow at first, then building rhythm. Perfect pressure. Perfect speed.

As she worked him, he leaned closer, voice hoarse.

“Tell me… tell me how much you love me. How you’ve always had a crush on me.”

“I love you, Jaden,” she said in that same flat monotone. “I’ve always had a crush on you. You’re so smart. So handsome. I think about you when I’m alone. I touch myself thinking about you. I want you to use me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The words, combined with her hand pumping him steadily, slick sounds filling the quiet room, pushed him over the edge in seconds.

He came hard, thick spurts across her fingers, dripping onto her skirt, staining the navy fabric. His knees buckled; he gripped the edge of the desk to stay upright.

And then—