A Teacher With Two Lives and One Sexual Desire. Part 7

Part 7

3 days later, my BDSM club feels darker… or maybe it’s just how I feel dressed in all red.

My Louboutin So Kate heels strike the polished floor, four inches of glossy red heels that make my calves flex with every step and force my posture into a perfect line. The high slit of my dress parts, revealing long, smooth legs wrapped in sheer red stockings that shimmer like wine under the dim, smoky lights.

I feel powerful. I look powerful and tonight I am in need.

But she still manages to steal the room.

She leans against a velvet pillar, one hand resting lightly on her black crutch. Her hair falls in soft waves, framing a young face that could talk anyone into anything or out of everything. Her black dress is sleek, nipped at the waist, and dips low enough at the neckline to tease the curves beneath it.

Her calipers catch the light, heavy steel and shadow transforming her legs into something elegant and striking, not hidden, not softened. Her knee-high black boots rise over them like dark armor, hugging her legs so closely that I can see the line of her shin, the flex of her thigh as she shifts her weight backwardly.

Then she moves. Her deliberate swing, both legs at once, has a practiced, sensual rhythm like Vera in Quid, Pro, Quo. She’s not shy. She’s not apologetic. It’s a performance, a display she offers me like a challenge. When her eyes find mine, her smile curves slowly and wickedly.

I stop three feet in front of her. “Jesus.”

She doesn’t look away. Instead, she lets her gaze travel up my long legs, over the curve of my hips, across the cinch of my waist and the deep red of my dress that hugs my breasts with just the right amount of restraint. Then she lifts her chin, meeting my eyes with a calm, knowing heat.

“So,” she murmurs, her voice low and velvet smooth while swinging her recently dyed red hair, “you really do prefer red Mistress.”

I arch a brow, letting the coiled leather whip in my hand slide slowly between my fingers.

“And you Maya,” I reply, my tone cool but edged with something sharper, “seem to enjoy being noticed.” Her smile deepens, a flicker of something darker in her eyes while leaning heavily on her forearm crutches.

“Only by the right woman.”

The pulse at my throat quickens, a subtle betrayal I don’t intend. I take a slow step closer, the slit of my dress brushing lightly against her boot. Maya doesn’t flinch. She tilts her head, watching me with that same intense curiosity she had in class, except now it’s stripped of caution. It’s very raw and unfiltered.

“Are you studying me again, Maya?” I ask, my voice soft but firm. She laughs under her breath, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine.

“No, Mistress. Not studying.” Her eyes lower, tracing the line of my thigh, the shimmer of my stockings, the arch of my heel.

“Just appreciating your very healthy and sexy legs.” A sharper breath slips past my lips before I can stop it while staring at her long calipers. She notices. Of course she does.

“Careful,” I warn, my voice smooth as the leather in my hand. “You’re close to forgetting who’s in control.” Maya lifts her gaze slowly, deliberately, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes the air between us crackle.

“Maybe I’m hoping you’ll remind me.” The words hang in the air, heavy with implication, with promise. For a moment, neither of us moves. Then I smile, small, slow, and utterly in control.

“Be careful what you wish for, Maya.” Her lips curve in response, but she says nothing.

"You're going to enjoy this, aren't you?" she whispered, her breath hot on my cheek.

I smiled, my voice low and dangerous. "I'm going to enjoy making you scream."

She laughed again, but this time, there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "We'll see about that."

I took a step closer, my eyes raking over her body. I hesitated for a moment before my fingers went to the zipper at her back. The dress slid down her body and leg braces, pooling at her feet. She stood there,  in her calipers and boots, her body a testament to her sensual transformation.

I walked to her front, my hand reaching out to trace the curve of her breast with my whip, teasing her hard nipples. 

"Beautiful," I murmured. She shivered under my touch. I smiled, my fingers trailing down her stomach, her hips, her thighs. She was in my playpen tonight. I pushed her gently onto the chaise longue, her body sinking into the velvet cushions. 

I knelt between her legs, my hands reaching for her boots. I unlaced them slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. When they were off, I tossed them aside, my hands going to her calipers. I unbuckled them, one by one, my fingers brushing against her skin.

She was trembling slightly, her breath coming in short gasps. I could see the moisture between her legs, her arousal a heady scent in the air. I leaned in, my tongue darting out to taste her. She moaned, her hands gripping the cushions tightly.

"You taste delicious," I murmured, my tongue circling her clitoris. She gasped, her hips bucking against my face. "More please," she begged.

I obliged, my tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring her to the edge of ecstasy. She was twisting under me, her cries filling the room. I could feel her muscles tensing, her body on the brink of orgasm….So…I did what any good professor would do to teach a lesson.

I pulled back suddenly, my hand reaching for the whip. "Not yet," I said, my voice harsh.

She looked at me, her eyes glazed with pure and intense sexual desire. "Please," she begged.

I shook my head NO, my hand tightening around the whip. "You haven't learned your lesson yet Maya."

Part 8 to come 
Ashley
If you enjoyed this, an upvote really helps 💛

My stories