She keeps having fun

The next day got off to a bit of a late start for Marianne Laucella. Last night, she and her husband had shared the most explosive, uninhibited sex they’d had in months. She floated through her morning routine with a blissful, satisfied smile—not just because the sex had been good, but because John had assured her that she was being very helpful. She enjoyed being helpful; she enjoyed being a liberated educator who didn’t intimidate her students by thinking herself above them. She had even learned to enjoy her creative punishment of smoking weed, which had drastically broadened her horizons.

She stood up, stretched in the nude, and admired the lush, heavy curves of her body in the full-length mirror. Then, she walked over to her closet to make her first decision of the day. She knew by now that she couldn’t wear underwear because she didn’t want Jose to feel inferior or uncomfortable. She also couldn’t cover up more than the students in her remedial class, who wore so little clothing anyway.

It occurred to her that if she could be adaptable with her lesson plans, her wardrobe should be just as flexible. She pulled on a pair of her tightest, black sleeping shorts—the flimsy fabric straining to contain her sizeable, rounded ass, only covering the top half of her cheeks and leaving the rest bare and inviting. She paired them with a white tank top she had worn in college when she was smaller. It rode up high, exposing her navel, while the thin straps dug deep into the soft, overflowing flesh of her unrestrained breasts. She bent forward to ogle her own cleavage and noticed her dark areolas were clearly visible through the white cotton. Perfect, she thought. The boys would surely feel comfortable with a teacher dressed like this.

Over the top, she threw on her usual button-down blouse, but only fastened four buttons, leaving a gaping view of her bouncing chest. She added a pair of thin leggings that were popular among the girls. She turned her bottom toward the mirror, glancing over her shoulder to admire her swaying posterior. It was dangerously prevalent in these pants, but if this was the student standard, she had to do her best to meet it.

On her way to school, she stopped at a gas station to pick up a twelve-pack of beer. When a homeless man asked if she could “help him out with $100,” she simply had to comply, handing him the bill with a dazed, helpful smile before driving to campus.

A week ago, this look would have caused a scandal. But upon arriving at the busy school, she found that most teachers seemed to be wearing more or less the same thing. Despite her coworkers’ newfound style, she still felt like a lone-wolf educator as she sat at her desk: no lesson plans, no bra, but she did have one thing, her Teacher’s Guide, staring at her from the desktop. She opened it happily to see what new role would guide her genius teaching strategies today.

Rule #4: A Good Teacher Knows How to Have Fun.

Sometimes, they say a teacher learns more from her students than they do from her. This was definitely one of those times. Marianne knew a teacher should have fun, but if she was honest, “fun” had never been a priority. In college, while others were at parties, she was burying herself in textbooks, accompanied by Pythagoras, Newton, and her proud collection of Encyclopedia Britannica.

But the guidelines didn’t specify which fun was allowed. That day, her first through sixth periods watched history documentaries, played games, and found the humor in the past. Her favorite fact—which had her AP students dying—was that Napoleon was once attacked and **** to retreat by a horde of rabbits. By the time seventh period rolled around, the day had flown by. She was smiling to herself, thinking back to her former self—that stuck-up, rigid teacher—and giggled. Why had she ever thought education had to be so serious?

She unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, stripping it off to reveal her heaving chest, and took out the twelve-pack of beer for her “stressed” seventh period. She leaned her bare thighs against her desk, arching her back so her large, heavy tits stretched the white tank top to its absolute limit. She was excited to show them just how fun education could be.

“Hey, Jose!” she chirped, bouncing up and down, causing her chest to jiggle violently as the handsome student walked in wearing nothing but his boxers. From an objective standpoint, she could see he had a very impressive figure.

“Hey, Mrs. Laucella, nice to see you dressing appropriately for class.” He looked her up and down. “Let me see the back, just to make sure it’s up to our standard.”

She did a half-turn, bending over deeply so the shorts rode up even further, exposing the pale, smooth curvature of her ass. “Does this meet the standard of our student body?” she asked, turning back to see Jose standing proudly with a thick erection tenting his plaid boxers. Lyle, Terrence, Jackson, and Peter filed in just as the bell rang.

Marianne looked sternly at the newcomers. “Just because I can’t punish you doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on time. When the bell rings, you should have your materials ready.”

“You look hot as fuck, Mrs. Laucella,” Lyle said. He was wearing Star Wars boxer briefs and tossed his backpack onto his desk.

She walked over to him, her curvaceous, MILF-esque figure on full display. “Lyle, you are pushing my buttons today.” She leaned closer, her breasts swinging inches from his face. “You can’t talk about me like that. Just because I’ve become more lenient doesn’t mean we break the rules willy-nilly. Now, go grab a beer and get ready for the lesson.” She pointed to the cooler.

The boys laughed, standing up to grab drinks—all except Lyle, who stared her down. Before he could speak, Jose intervened. “Don’t mess this up for us, Lyle.”

Marianne found it amusing that even in a remedial class, there was a student more remedial than the rest. “But compliments are fun, Mrs. Laucella,” Lyle whined.

She understood. Most people used them, so there must be some enjoyment there. However, as she had surmised earlier, not all fun is the same. “It might be fun for you, and we want to have fun, but we have to find things that are fun and educational.”

“Like what?” Terrence asked, popping a Michelob Ultra. Her students couldn’t keep their eyes off her, and she briefly wondered if being so scantily clad was truly helpful.

“Well,” she said, “like a quiz on history...” She stopped, worried she sounded too entitled. She needed to lower herself a peg. “...or a YouTube video.”

“If I may, Mrs. Laucella,” Jose said.

“Of course, Jose, you have the floor.” He was smarter than her in this room, so it made sense to listen.

“Sure, those things are fun to you, but wouldn’t it be more helpful to derive—” He saw her confused look. “Sorry. To base your lessons on what we find fun? You said a teacher shouldn’t think herself above her students. Isn’t thinking your fun is better than our fun a bit arrogant?”

He was exactly right. Her fun worked for AP kids, but these boys were here because they hated school. Teaching them her way was like teaching a man with no hands to play the guitar. She needed a new instrument.

“Jose, you’re right. I’ve been quite a prude about what fun is.”

“A prude?” Peter asked, finishing his beer. “Come on, Mrs. Laucella. You can think of a more fun word than that.”

The devotion in his tone made her shiver. “I’ve been quite a bitch,” she said, causing the class to erupt in applause. She laughed too; it felt silly to have been so stuck-up. “I was such a fucking bitch.” By now, every boy in the room was fully hard, watching their once-proper teacher cursing in her sexy pajamas.

“I had so much planned,” she said, sliding down to sit on the floor in front of her desk. “But it all seems like bullshit now. It’s been so hard coming up with plans because I feel so dumb when I think about you guys.” Terrence and Lyle shared a fist-bump. “So, you guys decide. Pick something fun.”

She looked a bit sad as she said it. Jose approached and sat beside her. “Is everything okay, Mrs. Laucella?”

“Yes, Jose. I just don’t feel very helpful if you’re the ones deciding.”

He stood up, his straining cock inches from her face. “Well, I have an idea.” He sat on her desk, legs dangling. “How about I decide, and you can be a very helpful teacher by helping me with my stress?” He put his foot against her chest. Her hands moved automatically, kneading the soles of his feet.

“Okay,” she said half-heartedly, though she didn’t stop. It was her duty.

Jose smirked. “I’m glad a good teacher like you finds it so fun to be helpful.”

Marianne’s stare went blank for a second before a wicked, sexy smile spread across her face. She pressed Jose’s foot between her large, soft tits and gave his toe a long, slow lick, looking up at him. “It’s so fucking fun to be a helpful teacher!”

For five minutes, she lovingly cleaned and massaged his feet while he scrolled on his phone. The class enjoyed the view as she leaned forward, her shorts riding up to expose more of her forbidden, pale skin.

Finally, Jose stood up. “Before we do anything else, I believe Ms. Laucella is due for a continuation of her punishment.” Peter pulled out some joints. Marianne struggled to hide her excitement.

Peter held the joint out, but Jose stopped him. “What the fuck?” Lyle complained. “Let her smoke!”

“Lyle, back down,” Jose said with the calmness of a mafia boss. He turned to Marianne. “Mrs. Laucella, before we administer this... I have to ask. Since it wouldn’t be punishment if you liked it... did you like smoking yesterday?”

She scoffed, a poor liar. “Of course not. I am an educator working on my PhD. If I wanted to kill brain cells, I’d slam my head into a desk. But I will suffer if I must.”

“Now, Mrs. Laucella, it’s not helpful to lie. If you liked it, that’s okay. Teachers like to have fun.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay, it was fun. But I wouldn’t make it a regular thing.”

“But wouldn’t it be more fun to make it a regular thing?” Peter asked.

“Well, I guess that would be more fun. So I guess I could start smoking regularly,” she said, already planning to buy some from Peter tomorrow. “As long as you think it’s helpful to your education.”

“Of course,” Jose said. He lit the joint, took a hit, and held it to her lips. She leaned forward, her mouth open and tongue dancing over her lips. He passed it to Peter instead.

“That’s that good shit,” Peter said.

“I’m glad you love it,” Jose said to Marianne. “But if you love it, it’s not a punishment. We need an additional layer.”

“Anything,” she said desperately, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “You’re all smarter than me.”

“I have an idea,” Terrence said, raising his hand. Jose pointed to him. “When I misbehaved, my mama would spank me. So I say, we each get a turn to spank her.”

Marianne gasped. “Okay, there is a clear line between creative punishment and touching your teacher! I’ll... I’ll spank myself, but I cannot allow you to—”

Jose held the blunt to her lips. She took a long, slow drag, the smoke filling her lungs. She exhaled, feeling the burn turn into a hazy, warm glow. Terrence lit a scented candle.

“Relax,” Jose whispered. “I know you wouldn’t normally let a student touch you. But this is a creative punishment, right? And it wouldn’t be very creative if we didn’t bend the rules.”

Her brain was misting up. “This isn’t bending,” she said, taking another hit. “It’s breaking the rules. A teacher shouldn’t touch a student.”

“Yeah,” Jose said. “But what if, while you were being punished... you pretended you weren’t a teacher?”

She perked up, the static of the high buzzing in her brain. “It’s a lot of fun to roleplay,” she giggled, “and it would be very helpful to the punishment if we did it right.”

“Good,” Jose said, his voice dropping an octave. “Now, listen closely.”

* * *

Marianne Laucella knocked on the door of her own classroom. Lyle opened it slowly. “Hello, Mr. Gibson,” she said in a soft voice.

“Well if it isn’t our resident trouble maker. We’ve been waiting for you.”

She stepped into her classroom to see the boys of her remedial class sitting behind their desks, like orderly gentleman outside of their dresscode.

She stood in front of all of them in her revealing PJ’s and her pigtails, Jackson had insisted that were a necessary part of the character. “I’m sorry for causing a disturbance, it was only a little bit of weed, sir.” She looked right at Jose with those big brown eyes. Her head was spinning and everything felt so easy.

“You’ve been such a fucking bitch, you need to be corrected. Do you understand, Marianne?”

The use of her first name, stripped of her title, acted like a final blow to her crumbling resistance. She nodded, her head lolling slightly from the heavy, sweet fog of the weed. “I understand,” she whispered, her voice thick and submissive. “I’m just a... a naughty girl.”

“Good,” Jose smirked, gesturing to the center of the room. “Get over the desk. Face down, ass up.”

Marianne obeyed with a clumsy, eager desperation. She moved to the front of her desk and leaned over, her large, heavy breasts spilling out of the sides of the white tank top. She pushed her hips back, presenting her round, posterior to the five boys who sat behind her, their eyes dark with anticipation.

“You sure, Jose? This is your handy work.” Jackson asked

Mrs. Laucella thought she knew exactly what they were talking about as it had been Jose that suggested the creative punishment.

“Yeah man, we all had to deal with the bitch, so now we share in the rewards.”

Jackson stepped up first, his palm flat and heavy, but his swing was more of a playful, solid thud than a strike. Mrs.Laucella braced herself against the desk. The impact sent a massive, slow-motion ripple through her entire backside, the lush flesh rolling and swaying under the tight fabric of her shorts like a wave of heavy cream. She let out a small moan. Somewhere outside of guidelines, a part of her liked this. Each of the boys took their time, walking up and giving their teacher a smack, looking at their hands as if they had been turned to gold. Jose was the last to go, he sauntered up to his teacher and said, “It’s fun to give compliments right, Marianne?”

“Yessir,” she said, breathing heavily against the desk.

Jose chuckled. “Sir? I like that.” He leaned nice and close, “Let me just say that you have a wonderful ass, Marianne.”

“Thank you sir,” she said, high as a kite.

“But it’s not really a real spanking with shorts on is it?

She thought about it. About what she would do if she were a teacher, but she wasn’t a teacher right now. Right now, she was Marianne and she was bent over a desk and she was high and she was horny.

“N…no sir,” she whispered. The thought of being completely exposed in front of them flashed through her mind. She wondered if they would think that was fun. “But... but I’m not wearing anything underneath,” she whimpered into the desk, her face flushing a deep crimson.

“Even better,” Jose said, his hand landing firmly on her lower back. “It shows how naughty you really were, coming to school like this.”

He reached for the waistband of her tight black shorts. With a slow, deliberate tug, he began to peel the fabric down. The boys held their collective breath as the big reveal unfolded. The shorts slid over her wide hips, exposing the dazzling, pale expanse of her lower back, and then, with one final tug, they fell to her knees.

Marianne’s ass was a masterpiece of soft, creamy curves. Without the restriction of clothes, her cheeks spread beautifully, full, firm, and incredibly wide. Her pussy was on display pink, inviting, and so incredibly wet.

Jose just admired her. The embarrassment mixed with the marijuana and the pain had made her so euphoric, that every sensation was multiplied. Jose put a hand on her hip and the other in the air. “I’m going to spank you hard, bitch, and when I do, you’re going to apologize for being a cunt. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She was shaking in anticipation. She was needy.

“Yes what?” His hand on her hip moved down and caressed her ass. Jose was in heaven.

“Yes sir.” And with that his hand came down. “Oh! Oh god, YES!” she screamed, her pigtails whipping as she thrashed.

Her wet, swollen pussy clenched, her toes curled, her eyes rolled back into her head, and her breath hitched in a ragged, high-pitched whine. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of hazy, euphoric colors as the orgasm tore through her, leaving her bare, reddened ass twitching and shimmering in the light.

She collapsed forward, her cheek pressed against the cold desk, gasping for air as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided into a warm, heavy thrum. Her large tits were still heaving, her skin was slick with sweat and arousal, and the vibrant red handprint on her cheek served as a glowing brand of her success.

Jose leaned over her, his hand resting possessively on her quivering, naked hip. “You were a very helpful girl today, Marianne,” he whispered, watching the way her eyes struggled to focus through the bliss.

Endtag: Be sure to check out the next chapter on Patreon https://www.patreon.com/c/BadgerAttack07 .

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