The candles

Gretchen surveyed the tools of destruction, uncertain at first. What did Professor Crazy deserve? She deserved the worst. After all, Gretchen was doing this for the sake of all the girls she'd humiliated in the past. It had to be something special.

Then she remembered something she'd seen a pathologist say on TV once. "Nothing hurts as much as fire." And Gretchen grabbed the candles. Underneath them was a box of wooden matches and, with a big smile, Gretchen grabbed those too.

For a second Gretchen wondered if this might be going too far. But she quickly decided that there could be no 'too far.' Not for Professor Bitch. It seemed as if a small spark had started inside her. Gretchen felt strange, excited, but not a normal excited. It almost felt like a sexual excitement, the kind that Gretchen rarely felt. But no, it couldn't be that. Only perverts would feel sexual excitement at the thought of hurting someone.

This was a good excitement. Gretchen decided it wasn't anything sexual... it was because she was going to see justice done.

Gretchen turned to find the professor's husband cutting away her clothes. Scraps of cloth fell to the ground around the professor. Obviously she couldn't be undressed normally, not being bound the way she was. But still, it shocked Gretchen. All that clothes torn apart. It felt very permanent.

"What are you doing?" Gretchen asked.

"Getting her ready." the master responded with a wink.

"But her..." Gretchen was distracted for a moment by the exposing of Professor Klein's nice big breasts, and large pink nipples. The professor just stared. She stared at her husband then she stared at Gretchen. Gretchen felt no pity. She shook her head clear again. "But her clothes?" she asked the husband.

The Master stopped what he was doing to fully turn toward Gretchen. "This is our deal. I ruin her clothes. You ruin her body." He smiled and turned back to his work.

And within moments Professor Crazy was fully nude before Gretchen. Gretchen looked her over, from her messy blonde hair to her bald, moist pussy. Gretchen couldn't believe it was actually wet, at the thought of getting hurt like this. 'What a real slut' Gretchen thought, ignoring the tingle starting to build in her own groin. This wasn't sexual, she told herself.

Gretchen stepped toward her professor, unsure if the look in the woman's eyes was that of fear or excitement. She barely knew where to begin. Her body trembled with anticipation. So did the professor's. She could see. But there was no reason left to stall. The Master had stepped back and was watching eagerly.

Gretchen lit a match, intending to light a candle. But stopped. The match flickered in her hand. The flame was too tempting. And Gretchen dropped the candle and swiftly shoved the flame into Professor Klein's right nipple, extinguishing it.

The professor's muffled screams were loud and intense. A tear dripped down from the professor's eye.

And Gretchen felt a powerful warmth, a calmness and an energy at the same time, rise up from between her thighs and fill the rest of her body. She told herself again that this wasn't sexual. But it was getting harder to believe. It was getting harder to care. Whatever it was, the sensation was amazing.

Quickly Gretchen had another match burning, holding it up to Professor Bitch's anxious eyes and extinguished in her left nipple. The professors scream sent shock waves of pleasure through Gretchen's body. She almost collapsed.

Gretchen's teeth chattered. She made a point to hold herself steady on her feet. The room seemed to be fogging up around her. A sense of unreality was everywhere. For a split second Gretchen felt the desire to strip. Though she didn't know why. This wasn't sexual, she told herself, not believing it anymore. Her panties were soaking wet.

She had to act quickly. It felt as if the whole room were going to collapse around her. She bent down to pick up the candle. As she did, her face positioned itself right in front of Professor Klein's wet cunt. For a split second Gretchen felt the desire to bury her face in it and taste the professor's juices. She shook it off. She told herself not to focus on those thoughts, not to give in.

Instead she quickly lit the candle, and staring at the professor's dripping slit, spread it with one hand, and held the flaming wick up to the woman's hard clit. The professor screamed as Gretchen watched the skin of her clit get redder and redder. And then, when it sounded like her professor could take it no more, slipped the long candle up into her cunt, without blowing it out.

The professor's body shuddered and Gretchen leaped up and without thinking started to kiss and lick her professor's face. She couldn't quite get at her lips because of the ball gag, but she didn't care. She kissed up her tears, telling herself she was making room for more. Telling herself she wasn't sure what she was doing.

Finally she felt a pair of hands on her hips pulling her back. It was the Master. She smiled. The Master... what an amazing sweet man to allow her to do this. He pulled her back a couple steps so she could look at the professor... her masterpiece. No, she told herself, just a work in progress.

And the Master slipped his fingers just slightly into the tops of Gretchen's pants. She didn't mind. He leaned in to whisper something in her ear. "I think my wife was wrong. I don't think we need to make you into a perverted cunt. I think you already are one."

Gretchen smiled. Somehow it seemed like a compliment. Like a badge of honor. And Gretchen wasn't sure why. Maybe she wanted to know who was complimenting her. Or maybe she'd just realized she didn't know it yet, but she asked the professor's husband. "What's your name, by the way?"

"You will call me Master" he answered.

And Gretchen thought nothing of it. "Yes Master." She responded as his hands began to move over her hips