After School Special
"So, boy, do you have something to say for yourself? No, no! I'm speaking now. So, you know why I've left you after school? No? Well, despite all you've been taught about the proper use of your mouth, I believe there were at least three girls in the thirty class mates that failed to orgasm at your pathetic efforts. I'm so very disappointed. Well, I take full responsibility and so now we continue with your teaching. Here, I will take this instructional cane which I will use to encourage you while you work."
She dropped her skirt and climbed on the table on which she'd tied him, to sit herself on his mouth, facing his spread-out legs.
"Now, I expect not only to cum - several times - but for you to as well. Should you fail, I'm afraid you will have to spend the weekend at my hourse for some intensive 'special education'."
She slowly moved her slit back and forth on the boy's out-stuck tongue, enjoying the afterglow of her last orgasm. She held his hard organ by the base, admiring the red marks left by her cane. She put the cane down and raked the cock with her nails, smiling at his twitches and moans. That nice vibration from his tongue. What a good boy.
And yet...
He was far from perfect. After an hour of desperate licking and caning of his thighs, cock, and balls, she had cum, what, six times - but he had failed to even once! True, the only drug he'd given him was for erection and added sensitivity, but a really good boy came like this, drugs or no!
Still, she reflected, toying with the head, she was willing to give him one more chance.
So she got up to get a bottle of ModiCum oil, sat back onto his mouth and ordered him to keep licking. She slathered his cock with the oil and started to stroke. She smiled, both at the vibrating tongue on her pussy and the cock filling her hand. She did love that feeling of a hard big penis in her grip.
And soon he was getting close. Legs shaking. Whimpering into her pussy. She smiled. He reminded her of this boy from yesterday's CBT class: the poor kid was cumming every two minutes as the very amused girls had taken turns jerking him off after a good hour of electric fun - during which he'd had cum several times as well.
But now the boy stopped licking.
"Please!"
Irritated, she shifted so she could glare down at him. "Please, what!?" Please her, was the only please allowed.
"Don't," he panted. "I don't want it." So pathetic.
She gave him a nasty grin. "Get that tongue back to work NOW if you know that's good for you." And without further ado she sat back down, this time so that her pussy pressed down on his mouth, making it harder for him to eat and downright impossible to speak.
She kept stroking his cock. And she kept smiling. "I don't want it"! What a perfect thing to say. Made her so fucking wet.
As a repercussion for his cheekiness she included his sore, beaten balls into her hard grip around the cock's base. Then, perhaps partly caused by this added layer of pain, he soon came. His legs twiched crazily as cum squirted out. She pressed her pussy hard on his mouth and really ground her hand around the head. Then she switched to using her sharp red nails on it. He howled into her cunt. Legs dancing.
Laughing at his anguish she kept this going for a while. Then she picked up the cane again.
She lifted her hips. "Stick that tongue out!"
Sobbing, he did as told, and she pressed her anus against it.
"Keep it stiff!"
Then, grinding her anus against his tongue, she started swatting at the head of the cock lulling against his belly. With her free hand she rubbed her clit, fully loving his cute fussing. He gave his nuts a few good smacks as well.
She was so horny that she came very quickly. She made it last, kept grinding and rubbing and swatting with the cane. One orgasm led to another, then a third. When she got mean this way, she also got ridiculously horny. A boy in distress was a natural aphrodisiac for her.
Once she hopped off him, the boy was weeping. Such a darling, pleasing her like that.
Yes, he was a good boy. No doubt.
Still, he would need help. If for nothing than that insolent interruption he would need a lesson or two. A weekend in her basement would certainly go a long way.
She would teach her about the extent of things he did not want - and which she would be giving him in abandon.