You use your ability on Mrs. Moore

Mrs. Allison Moore's light amber eyes widen as she watches you and Kelly enter the classroom. She's currently sitting at her desk and wears a conservative maroon blazer over a tight white button down blouse.

The woman appears to be in her early thirties and hasn't developed any wrinkles on her face or neck. She has short brown hair that barely reaches her shoulders. Her body is somewhat plumper than your mother and Kelly, her hips wider and her thighs thicker than the other two women. You can't help the way your eyes rove over her massive tits that are just barely restrained by her blouse and jacket. The outfit she's wearing might have fit her if she weren't so utterly voluptuous, her body never fully recovering from the son or daughter she'd given birth to a few years back. She's stuck in a visage of perpetual motherhood, her girlish years forever gone.

She narrows her eyes at you and glares, likely realizing just what you'd been looking at a moment prior and filing that instance on top of the likely overwhelming number of times she's caught you checking her out.

You lick your lips as the voluptuous woman gets out of her chair, huge breasts jiggling within the tight confines of her blouse and jacket. Her wide hips sway sexily within her sheer pencil skirt.

She's not the only person staring at you. Everyone in your class seems to be either gaping at you or Kelly, and you spot Christine Higgins among their number. The busty blonde cheerleader may be aware that you own Kelly, but that doesn't stop her from marveling at the way Andrew's buxom mother mashes her jiggling breasts against your chest. You catch a glimpse of her creamy inner thighs under her desk, her short skirt doing little to hide her skin from view. You smirk at her. She's currently dating Dean Travis, head quarterback of the school's football team. A previously unattainable subject of your wank fantasies, you could probably make her yours right now. All you'd need to do is write your name on her body. Or perhaps you're more interested in her fellow cheerleaders.

Gianna Lopez is eyeing you and Kelly with her dark hazel eyes. The busty Latina cheerleader is dressed in a daringly tight tank top that does little to hide the olive skin of her expansive cleavage.

The Asian cheerleader Rachel Inaba glances away from the two of you, her cheeks flushed. Her breasts are smaller than Chistine's and Gianna's, but seem incredibly perky from the way they're framed in her light blue blouse.

You notice Andrew glancing over at the three cheerleaders from his seat before looking away when turn their heads towards him.

Interesting. Maybe if you're feeling generous, you could throw your best friend a bone. Recompense for stealing his hot mother away from him forever.

"Mr. Ferro, would you explain to me who that woman is and what she's doing in my classroom?" Mrs. Moore interrupts your thoughts.

"Oh, I'm Kelly O'Brien," Kelly holds up her tattooed arm for Mrs. Moore to see. "I'm Ryan Ferro's property."

"I see. Well if you’re Ryan’s… property, then I guess I have **** but to let you sit in our class,” Mrs. Moore glares at you harder.

“Why is that, Mrs. Moore?” you ask her.

She shrugs at you. “That’s just the way things are,” she says simply.

You nod at her, accepting her statement for what it is. Whatever your ability does to people to get them to respect your right to have your property with you must be hijacking their upper reasoning skills somehow. The idea of it excites you, that you have the power to alter the minds of the people around you. To get perfectly reasonable and intelligent people like Allison Moore to accept what under any other circumstance would be considered slavery.

The observation gives you an idea and you walk past your history teacher to the whiteboard.

“Mr. Ferro, what do you think you’re doing?” the stern voice of Mrs. Moore washes over you. She has no power over you. Not anymore. You came to your school thinking about what sort of collateral you could take from your teacher to get her to cooperate with you. You decide to use what you learned at your house and go one step further.

You grab one of the dry erase markers. You smirk as you write on the board in red ink.

Ryan Ferro’s classroom

You place the marker back on the miniature shelf that frames the bottom of the lower half of the white board.

Mrs. Moore’s fists clench and she looks like she’s about to yell at you when her eyes catch what you’ve written on the board. Her beautiful eyes widen as she realizes that the balance of power in your classroom has shifted in your favor.

“Whose classroom is this, Mrs. Moore?”

The gorgeous MILF’s lips tremble as she whispers, “Y-yours.”

“Have a seat on my desk over there, Kelly. I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy what comes next,” you gesture at Andrew’s mother.

“Of course, Master. I can hardly wait.”

Kelly smirks evilly at your teacher and sits on the front of her desk. The boys in your class stare at her, their eyes smoldering with desire for a woman they could never have. Could never touch. She smiles at them, showing perfectly white teeth as she crosses her arms under her breasts, nearly forcing them out of the top of her blouse.

She would forever be a tease, a tantalizing lure to every man who walked the Earth, unattainable and untouchable by any and all. Except for you.

You smile.

“And what sort of rules can I set for my class, Allison?”

Your casual use of her first name causes her to growl at you.

“Mr. Ferro, you are seriously out of line. You may own this classroom, but it’s totally inappropriate for you call me by my first name,” she says. “I ought to-”

“New rule: in my class, I’m allowed to call people whatever I want. Isn’t that right, Allison?”

The threat dies in Mrs. Moore’s throat. She swallows, and you can’t help but picture your cum sliding down her throat and into her stomach.

“That’s right, Mr. Ferro,” she says, lowering her eyes deferentially.

The classroom is silent for a few moments.

“Wow man, that was awesome!” your best friend says. A few of the students chuckle in their seats.

Mrs. Moore whirls on them and they quiet down almost immediately. You don’t miss the way her big, skirt-clad ass jiggles, however. Your manhood hardens in your pants.

“New rule: I’m allowed to write on the skin of anyone in my classroom,” you declare, brandishing the very same sharpie pen that had opened so many doors for you. “Allison, come here and give me your arm. Actually, take off your jacket first so the writing doesn’t smudge.”

She hesitates, likely weighing the potential consequences of disobeying you even though you haven’t made it a rule that she must undress for you on command.

“New rul-”

“Okay, I’ll do it!” she says. She walks up to you slowly, heavy tits swaying. You don’t avert your eyes. You want her to see you stare at her. To know that you find her desirable. She doesn’t yet understand that she belongs naked for your viewing pleasure, and that to lock up her body in that constricting outfit is the highest of sins.

She licks her lips and blushes, even as her eyes glare at you with more hostility than they ever have. Damn, she’s so sexy. You wonder if her husband has paid her any attention lately.

Mrs. Moore – no, Allison – stops within two feet of you, offering you an incredible look into her deep, deep cleavage. She’s starting to perspire. A bead of sweat trails down her neck, sliding between her tits.

Slowly, she unbuttons her jacket. She peals it off of herself, arching her back as she does so to get her arms out of the sleeves. Her blouse-clad tits brush against your chest and she recoils immediately.

“Is this good enough?” she asks. She holds her jacket in one hand, careful not to allow it touch the floor.

“Roll up your sleeve and keep it that way. If I see you roll it back down… well, you don’t want to know what’ll happen then,” you tell her.

She gulps and nods as she obediently rolls up the sleeve of her left arm.

You hear your fellow classmates mutter in the background in hushed voices. Whether they fear Allison’s ire or your own is of no consequence to you. The moment you seized control over the classroom, that stopped mattering. In their eyes, you’re god. The god of a small, insignificant classroom in a high school that is merely one among countless thousands throughout the country, perhaps, but still a god.

You take her arm in your hands. Her skin is soft, smooth. The way every woman’s should be.

“You have really nice skin, Allison.”

She doesn’t say anything. She merely watches as you press the sharpie to her arm and begin to write.

Ryan Ferro’s mind

The idea had occurred to you suddenly. Allison has always seemed to pride herself on her knowledge of history and of the world around her. A stickler for the rules, she never tolerated any student who stepped out of line. That made you a target of her ire more than once, and many an afternoon this year was spent in detention in this very classroom. While you rather have spent that those detention hours elsewhere, they did afford you the opportunity to spend a good deal of time fantasizing about turning the tables on her and ripping her school-given authority right out from underneath her.

And really, what better way to dominate her performance in the field of academia than to rob her of her ability to recite and assimilate facts, to use that sharp brain of hers to instruct and reprimand others.

You release her arm and she brings it up to her face.

Her face slackens and her arm drops to her side.

“Allison?” you ask.

No response.

Emboldened, you poke her in the left breast. Your finger jostles the heavy, matronly mammary, causing it to shake beautifully.

“It doesn’t look like she’s all there anymore,” Kelly muses.

You grin at her.

“No, her mind is my property now. I wonder what’ll happen if... hey Allison, you’re allowed to use your mind the way you normally do, except that instead of using my name, you’ll always refer to me as ‘sir’ or ‘master’ and obey any order I give you to the letter. You’ll think I’m the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on and as you teach, your mind will be absorbed with a desire to see my big cock. The desire will build over of the duration of today's class and eventually you won't be able to think about anything else until I show you my dick.”

Allison’s eyes blink once. Her fists clench and unclench as her body slowly regains its normal animation. She blushes when her eyes meet yours.

“Thank you for letting me use my mind, sir,” she says. She tries to glare at you, but the effect is diminished by the redness in her cheeks and the way her breath quickens every time she looks at you.

She seems to notice that her students are chattering away instead of learning and she turns away from you, big breasts swaying freely in her tight blouse.

“Quiet down, students. Master may own this classroom, but I’m still your teacher. Now, open your textbooks to page 356 and we’ll begin our lesson about the conclusion of the war in the Pacific,” she turns her head to face you. “Sir, would you please be seated?”

You smirk. Your cock pulses in your shorts.

“Nah, I think I’ll stand. Actually, I want to introduce a new element to your lessons. What do you recommend, Kelly?”

The redheaded MILF smiles at you. She reaches a hand up to tweak her right nipple through her thin top.

She seems to notice that her son and the rest of the class have begun staring at her and she smiles even wider.

“I think it’d be great if Allison taught her lessons naked from now on, don’t you?” Kelly says. “Perhaps she could throw in a historical lesson about nudity or female sex organs with herself as an example. Or maybe one about motherhood. She seems like she could use a little deviation from her usual lesson plans."

The idea sends a thrill pulsing up your spine like electricity. Most of your lessons with Allison had been spent picturing the voluptuous MILF naked. Now that fantasy lies within your reach.

“Sir, I-”

“Take off your clothes, Allison. You’re gonna give today’s lesson completely naked.”

She blushes at you and bites her lip.

“Yes, Master.”

She begins unbuttoning her blouse.