Trying out Erin’s pussy

Erin's throat works you slowly, inch by inch, her wet mouth a tight, desperate sleeve around your cock. You lie back, hands behind your head, watching her shaven plump pussy hover right above your face—glistening, swollen, dripping slick onto your stomach with every gagging bob of her head. The vibrator buzzes deep inside her cunt, and you can feel the hum through her entire body, trembling against your thighs.

Miss Smith stands beside the bed, clearly savoring the degradation. Her fingers alternate between stroking Erin's sweaty hair and tweaking her own nipples through her lace bra, her thumb resting firmly on the base of Erin's red crystal plug, pressing it deeper into her rosebud with lazy rotations.

"You've got this one well trained, I have to say, Miss Smith," you moan, slowly bucking your hips, thrusting your cock deeper into Erin's throat. Her eyes water, mascara running down her cheeks, but she takes it—she has to. "I could play with her mouth and body all day."

Miss Smith smiles, a wicked curl of her painted lips. "She's one of my finest pupils. Obedient, eager, and so very… durable." She twists the plug, and Erin's entire body convulses around you, her throat clenching your cock in a wet, gagging squeeze.

Behind you, the circle of schoolgirls whispers and giggles, their bright young voices mocking Erin's performance. "Look at her drool," one giggles. "She's choking," another adds with a snicker. "Think she's going to pass out again?"

The humiliation is palpable—sweet, sick, and perfect. Erin's cheeks burn red against the pale white of her skin, her eyes glazed with shame and desperate need.

Miss Smith tilts her head. "So, Headmaster… what shall we make her do next?"

You reach down, cupping Erin's tit through her blouse, feeling the hard nub of her nipple beneath the thin fabric. You squeeze, and she whimpers around your cock. "I think I'd like to try out her cunt properly. Front of the class."

Miss Smith's eyes light up. "Excellent choice." She grips Erin's hair, pulling her off your shaft with a wet, obscene *pop*. Her mouth gapes, drool stringing from her lips to your slick cock.

"Thank your master, Erin," Miss Smith reminds her, voice sweet as poisoned candy.

Erin, frustrated, her body trembling, leans down and plants three light kisses on your bellend, her lips soft and reluctant. "Thank you, master," she whispers, voice hoarse.

"Good girl." You sit up, grip her hips, and guide her to stand, then bend her over the bed in front of the entire class. Her skirt flips up, revealing her perfect, shaven cunt—plump pink lips slick with her dripping arousal, the red crystal plug winking from her tight asshole.

You line up your cock behind her, the head pressing against her wet slit. "Someone fetch my belt," you order over your shoulder.

A student scurries away as you push forward, sinking into Erin's tight, soaked pussy inch by inch. She lets out a cute, surprised little squeak as you fill her, her walls clenching around you, desperate and snug.

The student returns, placing your leather belt into your outstretched hand. You smile at Miss Smith, threading the belt around Erin's neck, pulling it taut like a leash. "I always find students fuck better when they have some encouragement."

You tug the belt snappy, the buckle grinding against her throat, cutting off her air. Erin gasps, eyes going wide, her body stiffening as her airway tightens. Miss Smith steps closer, tweaking Erin's abused nipples through her blouse, her free hand already wandering under her own pencil skirt.

"One of you dear girls," Miss Smith purrs, "fetch the electrodes. Let's show the headmaster how we add a little… spark."

A student returns with a small black box, its cables tipped with silver clips. Miss Smith takes them, unbuttons Erin's blouse completely, exposing her perfect, perky tits, and clips each nipple with a sharp pinch. Erin's whole body jerks, a muffled cry dying in her throat.

"Torture play," Miss Smith explains to the class, her fingers stroking the dial. "We condition our girls to associate pleasure with pain." She turns the knob, and a low current crackles through the cables.

Erin's body seizes, her back arching, her pussy clenching in a violent shudder around your cock. The sensation is incredible—her walls milking you, squeezing you in convulsing waves.

You thrust harder, faster, pulling tighter on the belt leash, the buckle digging into her windpipe. Her face flushes purple, veins standing out on her forehead, her eyes rolling back.

"Perfect," you groan, slamming deep, feeling her convulse around you. "Look at her. Purpling like a good little slave."

Miss Smith cranks the dial higher. Erin's tits spasm, her nipples blackened and raw, and you feel her pussy gush around you—a full, helpless orgasm wrenched from her by sheer suffocation and current.

You cum hard, pulsing deep inside her, filling her cunt with your seed just as her body goes limp. Her face is deep purple, her eyes rolled back, her consciousness slipping away in the middle of your orgasm. You hold her there, pumping every last drop into her, savoring her collapsed weight on your cock.

You release the belt, letting her slump onto the bed, cum leaking from her swollen slit.

You step back, catching your breath, and walk up to a random student—a wide-eyed brunette in a neat uniform. "Clean me," you order.

She kneels immediately, taking your slick, spent cock into her mouth, licking you clean with eager little strokes, finishing with a soft kiss on the bellend. She looks up at you, waiting.

You turn to Miss Smith. "Give her a collar," you say, nodding at Erin's unconscious body. "Add her to my personal collection. Make sure she's cleaned up and dressed back in her uniform."

Miss Smith smiles, already sliding off the bed to obey. "It will be done, Headmaster."

You get dressed, buttoning your shirt, watching the class of girls whisper and stare at Erin's limp, freshly branded body. A collar will snap around her neck before she wakes—a new addition to your collection.

You leave the art class, the door closing behind you on the scent of sex, sweat, and submission, with Miss Smith's fingers already buckling the collar around Erin's throat.