How's it feel to be submit ?

Name's Mark, i'm just an ordinary student who is also a introverted artist. One day, while strolling down the deserted school hallways, I stumbled upon a room filled with archives. It was the last place I expected to find a muse for my art, but that's where she was. Mrs. Taylor, my homeroom teacher, a woman with curves so voluptuous they could make a saint sweat, was there all alone, her hand buried in her skirt. She was so focused on her own pleasure that she didn't even hear the door creak open. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest, and my cock stirring in my pants.

"Well, well. Guess i can use this." while grab my phone from pocket and record her silently. Her eyes closed and her breath grew heavier as she stroked her clit with an urgency that spoke volumes of her desperation. She was so lost in her own world that she didn't notice the shadow growing larger across the floor.

I tiptoe closer, my phone steady as a rock, zooming in on her glistening pussy. The sight of her thick, juicy labia made my cock throb with need. I could feel the heat radiating from her, the scent of her arousal filling the small, dusty room. She was so beautiful, so primal in her need. It was like watching a goddess in the throes of ecstasy. I couldn't resist the urge to get closer, to touch her.

"Now this could be a key to make her submit." in whispering tone while ended the record and leave the room silently. I knew I had something that could change the dynamics of our relationship forever. Mrs. Taylor had always been so professional, so cool and collected, but here she was, a creature of passion and desire, **** and exposed.

Days turned into weeks, and I waited patiently for the perfect moment to make my move. I studied her every reaction, her every gesture, looking for a crack in her armor. And then it came, a quiet afternoon when she was alone in the faculty lounge, grading papers. I walked in casually, acting like I had forgotten my bag, and dropped it by her side. She looked up, those piercing blue eyes meeting mine, and for a split second, I thought she knew. But she just gave me a curt nod and returned to her work.

My heart was racing as I leaned against the desk, my eyes drifting to the swell of her breasts beneath her tight blouse. "Mrs. Taylor, I've been having some... trouble with the art project," I began, trying to keep my voice steady. She sighed and put down her pen, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"What is it, Mark?" she asked, her tone weary but not unkind.

"Well, can i just asking some advice and maybe a criticism from you ?." while grab my phone from the pocket, and play the recorded video of her mastrubating in the archive room. The color drained from her face as she realized what she had been caught doing. She gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

Her eyes grew wide with shock and horror, and she looked up at me with a pleading gaze. "Please, Mark, delete that," she whispered, her voice trembling. But the fire of desire in my eyes told her that this was far from over. I took a step closer, my cock now straining against the fabric of my pants.

"Oh. No, no, no, no, no. I don't think so." while grab my phone and look at her with devilish gaze and smile. "You see Mrs. Taylor, I think this is the perfect opportunity for a little...collaboration. You help me with my art, and I'll help you keep this little secret of yours." My words were as smooth as silk, and the threat in my voice was as clear as the sweat beading on her forehead.

"A win-win price for both of us." I said with a smug smirk, watching her face contort in disbelief and fear. She knew she was caught, and there was no way out. Mrs. Taylor's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, and she looked around the room frantically, as if searching for an escape route that wasn't there.

"Wh-what do you want from me?" she stuttered, trying to regain some semblance of control. Her eyes darted to the door, but I stepped in front of it, blocking her path.

"Coincidentally, my parents were away on business for a month, coming to my house every afternoon after school." I suggested, watching the fear in her eyes slowly morph into understanding and dread. "I'm sure we can find a way to make this work for both of us," I added, my voice a low purr that seemed to resonate through the air, thick with tension.

Mrs. Taylor swallowed hard, her eyes flicking from the phone to my face and back again. She knew she had **** but to agree to my terms. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but you promise, this stays between us?"

"Of course i will, miss." with mischievous smile while leave the room. I could feel her eyes boring into my back as I closed the door behind me, the weight of our newfound arrangement hanging in the air.

The next day after school, I found myself waiting in my bedroom, the anticipation of what was to come making it hard to sit still. When she finally arrived, her eyes searched my face, looking for any sign of what was to unfold. I led her to the couch, my hand lingering a little too long on her elbow, the electricity between us palpable.

"Now, let's talk about this art project of yours," she said, her voice shaky as she tried to maintain her dignity. But the way her eyes kept darting to my crotch betrayed her. She was aware of the power I held over her, and it was making her wet.

"I want you to became my model, Mrs. Taylor," I said, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "A muse for my art, my canvas for passion." Her breath hitched, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to hide her arousal. "Take off your clothes," I ordered, and she complied, her trembling fingers working the buttons of her blouse with shaky precision.

Her breasts spilled out, full and round, the nipples hardening into tight peaks. My mouth watered at the sight of her, and my cock throbbed painfully against my zipper. She slid off her skirt, revealing matching lace panties and a garter belt that had me fighting to keep my composure. The reality of what was happening was so much better than my wildest fantasies.

"Now, let's get started," I said, trying to sound casual as I picked up my sketchbook and pencil. But the tremor in my hand gave me away. Mrs. Taylor took a deep breath, and then she reached back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her tits swayed with the movement, and I could see her pulse racing in the side of her neck. She was mine now, and she knew it.

I sat down on the chair opposite her, my cock threatening to rip through my pants as I began to sketch her. She sat there, naked and exposed, her legs slightly apart, giving me a hint of the pink, wet heaven between them. I tried to focus on the lines and shadows, the curves of her body, but all I could think about was burying myself inside her.

"Mrs. Taylor, I want you to touch yourself again," I said, my voice thick with desire. She hesitated for a moment, then slowly, almost mechanically, her hand slid down her stomach and into her panties. She began to rub her clit, her eyes never leaving mine, a silent protest in their depths. I could see the conflict raging within her - the humiliation of being used like this, the fear of her secret being exposed, and the undeniable pleasure my control gave her.

Her breath grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Her fingers danced over her folds, coating themselves in her juices. I couldn't help but lean in closer, the sight of her masturbating for me again too much to handle. My own hand found its way to my cock, stroking it through my pants as I watched her. The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing and the rustle of fabric.

"And done." while scratch the last line of the pencil, I put down my sketchbook, the image of Mrs. Taylor's naked body etched in my mind forever. "You know what's next," I murmured, my cock now painfully erect. She looked at me with a mix of dread and arousal, her hand still working between her legs.

Slowly, I stood up and walked over to her. She didn't flinch as I reached down and pulled her panties aside, exposing her glistening pussy. Her eyes never left mine as I unzipped my pants and pulled out my thick, pulsing cock. The tip was slick with precum, and I knew she could see how much she was turning me on.

"How big..." Mrs. Taylor whispered, her voice trailing off as she took in the size of my cock. It was a statement of disbelief rather than a question, and I couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her pupils dilating with a mix of fear and desire. "It's okay," I assured her, "You'll get used to it."

I stepped closer, my cock now just inches from her face. She could feel the heat radiating off of it, could see the pulse in the vein that ran along the shaft. Her hand stilled on her pussy, and she licked her lips unconsciously. "Take it in your mouth," I instructed, my voice firm but not unkind.

Mrs. Taylor's eyes widened, but she obeyed, her hand slowly moving to wrap around my shaft. Her grip was tentative at first, but as I guided her, she grew bolder, her strokes becoming more confident. She took the tip of my cock into her mouth, her eyes never leaving mine as she tasted the precum that had gathered there. The sensation of her wet, warm mouth on me was almost too much to handle, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming right there.

"That's it," I coached her, "just like that." She took more of me in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. I could feel her tongue swirling around the head, teasing the sensitive spot just under the ridge. It was clear she had done this before, and the thought of her using her mouth on other men only made me harder.

As she worked my cock, I couldn't resist the urge to reach down and slip my hand into her panties, feeling the slickness of her arousal. Her breath hitched around me, and she moaned, the vibrations sending shockwaves through me. I slid a finger into her, finding her wet and tight, her pussy clenching around it.

I knew I had to have her, all of her. "Enough," I murmured, pulling my cock from her mouth. She looked up at me with glazed eyes, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. I pulled her to her feet and bent her over the couch, her ass in the air, begging for me.

Without a word, I slid into her, the feeling of her warm, tight pussy surrounding me like nothing I had ever felt before. She gasped, her body tensing for a moment before she relaxed into it. I began to move slowly, savoring the sensation, watching as her breasts swayed with every thrust.

Mrs. Taylor's moans grew louder, her hips pushing back to meet me, urging me deeper. I could feel her pussy clenching around me, her body begging for more, and I gave it to her, my strokes becoming faster and harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with our gasps and groans.

My orgasm was building, my balls tightening with every stroke. I reached around and found her clit again, rubbing it in time with my thrusts. She was so close, her body trembling, and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer.

With a roar, I came deep inside her, filling her with my hot seed. I felt her body spasm around me, her own climax crashing over her like a wave. We stayed there for a moment, both of us panting and sweating, lost in the aftermath of our illicit encounter.

When I pulled out, she collapsed onto the couch, her legs shaking. I looked down at her, my cock still hard and glistening with her juices. "You're mine now, Mrs. Taylor," I said, my voice a mix of satisfaction and possession. "And I plan to enjoy every moment of it."

Her only response was a whimper as she looked at me, her eyes glazed over with a mix of lust and submission. The power dynamics had shifted, and we both knew it. This was just the beginning of our twisted art project, and I couldn't wait to see where it would lead us next.

Tomorrow at the school, she secretly slip a vibrator inside her clit beneath her panties, setting it to a low buzz. The anticipation of what could happen next was driving her wild. She tried to focus on her classes, but all she could think about was Mark's cock inside her, claiming her in the most primal way possible. She knew she should be disgusted, but the memory of his control and the intensity of her own climax had her panties soaked.

I keep an eye on her cause i hold the remote control, when i hit the button, she jolts in her seat, trying to keep her composure as the vibrations dance across her clit. I can see the effort it takes her not to moan out loud, her hand clutching the edge of her desk tightly. She's mine now, and everyone in this classroom is oblivious to the power I hold over her.

After school, she walks into my house with a mix of dread and anticipation. She's dressed more provocatively than usual, her blouse unbuttoned an extra button, her skirt hiked up just enough to show a hint of thigh. She knows what I want, and she's going to give it to me. We head to the living room, where I have my easel set up, ready for our next session.

"Why Mark ?, why you do this to me?" Mrs. Taylor whimpered as she walked into the room. I could see the pulse in her neck racing, the vibrator working its magic. She was already putty in my hands.

"I'm just curious, how does it felt to see a cool and over convidence like you fall and losing to pleasure that you felt by your own hand?" I whispered in her ear as I press the button on the remote again, making the vibrations increase. She gasped, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"It's... intense," she managed to murmur, her body squirming with the need to reach climax. "I've never felt so... exposed."

"Go ahead, cause i'll make sure you'll never a ordinary woman anymore." while spin the button, increase the vibration level into the highest. Mrs. Taylor's legs wobbled as she leaned against the wall, her body betraying her with a soft moan that echoed through the room. The sight of her, so powerful and in charge in school, now reduced to a quivering mess of need, only served to make me harder.

I grabbed her wrist, leading her to the couch. She stumbled, the vibrations making her legs almost give out from under her. "Sit," I commanded, and she obeyed, her skirt riding up even higher. She spread her legs, her pussy glistening with arousal. I knelt before her, the scent of her need thick in the air.

"Now, Mrs. Taylor, it's time for your next lesson," I said, my voice a low growl. I slid the vibrator from her panties, watching her squirm as the direct contact ceased. I placed it on the coffee table, the buzzing a constant reminder of her vulnerability.

"I wanna see how a woman like you submit." while without a warning i stroke few fingers inside her clit, shaking inside her fiercely. Mrs. Taylor's eyes snapped open, her back arching as she let out a silent scream, her nails digging into the cushions of the couch. I watched with hungry eyes as her pussy grew wetter, her juices coating my hand. Her legs were trembling, and she was close, so close to coming again.

"Please, Mark," she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper, "I need to cum."

I smirked, enjoying the sight of her desperation. "Not yet," I said, withdrawing my hand. She whimpered, her body writhing on the couch, her pussy begging for more.

"Strip," I ordered, my voice firm. She complied, her trembling fingers working to remove the last of her clothing. When she was naked, I gestured for her to lie down, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and ready for me.

I took my time, my eyes roving over every inch of her body, memorizing every curve, every freckle, every goosebump that rose in response to my gaze. The vibrator lay forgotten on the table, a silent testament to the power I had over her.

"Now, from now on is the highlight." without a warning i insert the vibrator inside her ass, penetrate it with ease thanks to her wet pussy. Mrs. Taylor's eyes widened, and she gasped, her body jolting with the unexpected sensation. The vibrator was a new addition to our sessions, and I could tell she was both terrified and intrigued by it.

I setting in into highest level and move it in and out into her ass. Mrs. Taylor's eyes rolled back, and she let out a moan that was a mix of pleasure and pain. The sight of her taking it, her body stretching around the toy, had me on the edge. "Look at me," I whispered, and she opened her eyes, her pupils blown wide with lust. "You're so beautiful like this, so open and needy."

"You wanna a dick ?, BEG FOR IT." with devilish smirk and gaze while keep moving it in and out of her ass. Mrs. Taylor's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the dual sensations of the vibrator in her ass and her own fingers playing with her clit. She looked at me, her eyes glazed over with desire, and whispered, "Please, Mark. I need you."

"Need me for what ?." while keep thrusting her ass with the vibrator, watching her pussy throb in response. Mrs. Taylor's cheeks were flushed, her chest heaving as she tried to form coherent words through the haze of pleasure.

"Your... cock," she gasped, the word leaving her lips like a confession. It was all the invitation I needed. I stood up, my cock at full mast, and stepped closer to the couch. I lined up my cock with her pussy, the head nudging against her swollen clit, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her.

"Please, Mark," she begged, her voice cracking with need. "Fuck me. Make me cum."

With a growl, I plunged into her, my cock filling her to the brim. She screamed, her body bowing off the couch, the vibrator still buried in her ass. The sensation was overwhelming, and she clung to the cushions, her legs wrapped around my waist as I began to thrust. The vibrations from the toy synced with the rhythm of my hips, creating an explosion of pleasure that had her toes curling.

Our bodies moved together, a dance of dominance and submission, her moans music to my ears. I could feel the tension building in her, her pussy tightening around me with every stroke. "You're going to cum for me," I murmured, my teeth grazing her ear. "You're going to scream my name as I fill you up."

Mrs. Taylor's eyes snapped open, meeting mine with a mix of defiance and desperation. "I won't," she panted, her voice shaky. But we both knew she was close, so close.

I reached down and grabbed the vibrator, twisting it inside her ass, increasing the intensity of the vibrations. She bucked against me, her nails digging into my skin. "Oh, God, yes," she moaned, her hips moving in time with my thrusts. "Yes, Mark, yes!"

With a final, brutal thrust, I felt her body tighten around me, her pussy clamping down as she came. The vibrator inside her sent her over the edge, her orgasm rippling through her, making her entire body shake. I couldn't hold back anymore, and with a roar, I emptied myself into her, filling her with my cum.

We collapsed onto the couch, our bodies slick with sweat, the vibrator still buzzing between us. We lay there, panting, for a few moments before I pulled out, watching as my seed dripped out of her and onto the fabric. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and pleasure.

"You're mine now," I said, my voice still thick with lust. "And I plan on using you like this every day after school."

Mrs. Taylor's eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of regret or pity. But all she found was hunger and determination. "Yes," she whispered, her voice small but sure. "I'm yours, Mark."

And with that, our twisted art project had turned into a daily ritual of pleasure and power. She was no longer just my teacher; she was my muse, my lover, and my **** to my desires. And every time we fucked, every time she came for me, I knew she was just as addicted to this new dynamic as I was.

The weeks turned into months, and our secret remained just that - a secret. We pushed the boundaries of our arrangement, exploring new heights of depravity and desire. The school halls echoed with whispers of our illicit affair, but no one ever had proof. And Mrs. Taylor, the once cool and composed teacher, was now a woman consumed by her own lust, living out her darkest fantasies with her student.

Our art project had become so much more than just a way to pass the time. It was a declaration of power, a silent pact that bound us together in a dance of pleasure and pain. And as long as I held the key to her darkest secret, she would be mine to do with as I pleased.

But even as we reveled in our newfound dynamic, I knew that all good things must come to an end. Eventually, someone would find out, and the consequences would be dire. But for now, we were lost in our own little world of sin, two people brought together by lust and ****, forever changed by the day I walked in on her in the archive room.