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Fit to be Tied

While the living room seemed studious, Miss Harwood’s boudoir looked gothic. Dark colored walls and furniture, deep red carpet.

The central feature in the room was the huge four poster canopied bed, each polished post ebony in color. The heavy piled plush blanket sported some type of design on it, though he couldn’t make it out.

Laying the crop on the blanket, she walked over to the dresser, she lit a dark colored candle with a match before turning on the iPod docked in the station, filling the room with the soft sound of Ravel’s Boléro. Smiling, she turned back, hips beginning to sway in time with the music. Closing her eyes, she began slowly trailing her hands up and down her body.

Bound to the crop, Tom could only spectate. She was absolutely beautiful, moving closer to the bed. The bra was the first thing to come off, freeing two well shaped and full looking breasts, a horizontal barbell pierced through each nipple

Tom’s eyes widened.

Shimmying out of her panties, her pussy bare, gold colored hoop through her the hood of her clit, a ghost of a shadow suggesting she might be soon due for another waxing. The paleness of her body was in stark contrast to the dark décor, making her stand out all the more as she continued to dance.

He swallowed hard, her perfect body writhing sensuously.

She was close enough he could smell the freshness of her flesh mingled with an alluring hint of her awakening sex.

Massaging her breasts, she opened her eyes and looked down at him.

Wow,” he murmured, the sound lost in the music.

Bending forward, she took the riding crop by the handle, sliding it around her side, him face down over the taut firm flesh of her ass as she rubbed it slowly.

Raising the crop back up and high, twisting his position from facing inward to outward at the apogee of the stroke, she brought it down, striking the alabaster left cheek of her bottom of the side. While not hard for her, leaving only a faint rosy mark on her formerly unblemished skin, the impact for him was significant enough to push the air from his lungs.

Suddenly, Tom was jolted awake, disorientated and somewhat confused in the darkened interior of the purse.

“What the?” he mumbled as light spilled in from above when she opened the purse.

Had it all just been an adolescent fantasy, some trick of the mind? There was a vague hint of leather under the spearmint aroma in the purse.

He chuckled softly and shook his head as she fished him out and set him on top of her kitchen table.

“I just had the weirdest lucid dream,” he said.

She smiled at him, “Oh? Was I in it?” she asked, draping her jacket over the back of the chair and taking a seat at the table, folding her and leaning forward, she arched an eyebrow.

“Do you perchance have any body piercings?” he inquired, scoping out what he could of her place. Elegant, but nowhere near the antiquated study he had dreamed.

She chuckled, “You’ll soon find out,” she promised, raising both eyebrows playfully as she got up from the table. “You wait right here,” she instructed.

Where else could he go? He was curious if his dream had been a manifestation of his subservient position to her? She had been his teacher, still was for all intents and purposes, possessed of innate authority over him and he wondered if that was the reason he had imagined her all garbed in leather. What if she walked out dressed like in the dream, like the dream had been some weird precognitive flash in his mind? He swallowed hard. He hoped not. Especially the crop.

When she returned she was wearing her usual teacher attire, blouse skirt. Her luxurious long hair held back.

“So,” he said, cocking his head to the side and flashing his grin at her. “What’s did you have in mind?” He could feel himself stirring.

“You’ll see,” she hushed, holding her hand out palm down to silence him.

“Katie,” he said coyly, raising an eyebrow.

“Miss Harwood,” she corrected, tone stern.

“Miss Harwood,” he repeated. “I forgot to bring my homework,” he said.

“Have you now? Well, then I see you will need a little more hands on supervision if you want to get a passing grade from me,” she said, reaching down and taking him in her hand. Carrying him from the kitchen, she walked down a hall and into what he presumed was her bedroom. It was nicely decorated, not some Goth dungeon for abusing little people. He shook his head and chuckled.

She sat down on the bed and laid him in her lap, picking up a clear silicon dildo lying on the bed in her left hand, it was textured to resemble an actual penis. His mind immediately summoned up Janine’s pink toy and some of the stuff she had done with him.

“I think I know where this is going,” he said ruefully, looking up at the teacher.

Hearing him, she smiled back, “I don’t care what the others you’ve been with may or may not have done with you. What I do know, is I’m going to tie you to my little friend here, and then I am going to place you in detention,” she said bluntly.

He pursed his lips, “I guess that’s settled then,” he murmured.

She picked up a strand of thread, but not like sewing thread, this one was thicker than that, though not as thick as the wool he had dreamt. “What kind of thread is that?” he asked, watching her.

“Cross stitch thread,” she said, looping some around his foot and drawing it tight.

“Oh,” he replied, looking at the leash around him foot.

Ignoring him, she placed him on the top sex toy, his own head against the head of the faux member. Looping the line a half dozen more times around his body and tying it off, like a spider securing her prize, she grinned.

Setting him down on the bed facing her direction. Pulling up the hem of her skirt, she showed him she wasn’t wearing any underpants.

“Detention?” he asked, eyeing her pussy.

She nodded slowly, unbuttoning her blouse and removing her skirt. She was positively beautiful, more magnificent than he had imagined, her perfect body sculpted by divine genetics and yoga.

Licking her lower lip, she brought him close to her mouth, corner pulling up into a smile as her tongue came out and licked him from feet up passed his head. Cupping her right breast, she lowered him down and teased the hard nipple with him.

Climbing onto the bed, she rolled onto her back, knees up, legs parted, holding him directly over her face, her mouth open as she lowered him down and licked him again.

Caressing her breast again, she moved him over the downside and onto her tummy, circling her navel counterclockwise twice before moving him onto her mound. Lifting her arm, she angled the dildo and pushed him over the moistened swollen flesh of her pudendum, moving him up and down the vertical crease of her engorged vagina, clear liquid seeping out, over her perineum and onto her crinkled anus.

The pressure she was applying was slight, teasing herself.

Having closed his eyes, he opened them again when he felt himself being lift up and away, only to be left suspended and hovering over her genitals five or six feet to him, a couple or three inches to her. She held him there for a couple of seconds, before abruptly bringing the toy down and pushing him firmly through her labia, his face almost directly near her vaginal orifice. Bringing her knees together, she held him there, flexing her Kegel muscles while releasing the toy and kneading her breasts, feeling him squirm deliciously between her thighs.

The hot tissue molded around him, thick with her essence. He tried to breathe, but all he did was draw her into him, ingesting her excitement.

Taking hold of the end of the toy again, she opened her legs and drew him back up over her mound.

Coughing, he used the opportunity to suck in some fresh air.

Slowly, she snaked a trail back up her body, across her lean stomach, through the valley between her breasts and lifted him back over her face. She smiled, before puckering and kissing his torso, tongue lapping at him and flicking his excitement.

Slipping an arm free of the binding, he raised his right hand, “Wait,” he said before wiping his face.

“Hush now,” she whispered, rolling back up onto her knees on the bed. Holding of the toy near the base with both hands, she braced her hands against the bed, angling the silicon toy upright. Moving her knees forward, she lifted her butt and positioned her vagina almost directly over the toy, with a delighted sigh, slowly impaled herself upon it.

 

Chapter End Notes:

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I initially wrestled with the idea of actually having Miss Harwood as a strict disciplinarian, but it did seem a pretty big stretch to make for the character. Hopefully the cliched dream sequence didn't detract from the story. Please enjoy!

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