A student in the last year of college gets his hands on a virus that, when sent through a simple text, will issue an irresistible command. Will the girl of his dreams succumb to its power, or will she be able to resist?
Disclaimer: All characters are entirely fictional and all resemblances to anyone in real life is entirely coincidental. If you are under 18 or offended by sexual material, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
SLUT 4 U
by Sinistra
Part III
Isabelle’s thoughts were interrupted when she saw Darius stop mid-step, and poke his head back through the doorway. ‘Oh, and Isabelle? No more masturbating in the school toilets. In fact, no more masturbating anymore, full stop. You will let me, and only me, touch your pussy. Is that clear?’
Isabelle whined. ‘But Darius-’
Her resistance crumbled as he locked her in a fierce stare. A rush of pleasure swept through her and she knew she couldn’t disobey him.
‘Love you’ he said, before shutting the door and walking off. Isabelle’s heart instantly went to mush, and she blushed a charming scarlet. That fool…
Isabelle took a few deep breaths, buttoned up her blouse, straightened out her skirt and her hair, and strutted out of the room. Mr Edwards is going to be pissed, she thought as she found her way to lesson. Ah well. What do stuffy old teachers know? As she opened the door she felt a waft of cool air tickle her under her skirt. With a spring in her step, she made her way to class, beaming as she navigated the corridors. A youthful, joyous feeling bubbled and grew inside her, a strange love, love for herself, for life, for Darius. She knew it was going to be a great day.
Darius had never thought it would be so easy. At first he’d downloaded TOR not really expecting much – he had been inspired by stories of strange and horrifying ventures into the dark, twisted underbelly of the deep web. It was fair to say he found a sense of community with the introverted, internet eccentrics he encountered online. Before he knew it he had catapulted himself into an incredibly niche corner of the world, which simultaneously threatened to overwhelm him with its stupefying immensity. He found himself caught in a web of conspiracy, extremism, esoteric knowledge and philosophies he’d never heard of, let alone attempt to understand. As soon as he’d heard the rumours: tales of Mexican drug lords rewiring the minds of whistle-blowers for a gruesome fight to the death with their colleagues, Asian businessmen brainwashing young homeless women to form harems in underground gangs – he knew he had to delve deeper.
A whisper on one thread led to an IP on another, and after spending a whole lot of bitcoin he had soon pieced together a name and a virtual location from fragments of internet folklore. A guy selling malware, a mind-altering virus based on a simple text message. From stumbling randomly onto a random thread, to piecing together the rumours, he now had the power to control anyone on a whim. He mused this as he ambled into his next lesson. Still, he thought, he needed an education. Sure, he could simply convince any employer to give him a job, but what if his supplier went cold? He would have to be smart. That is why he was sat now, staring at Mr Burnham, as he tolerated a scolding about his absence. I am the future, old man. He thought. And soon, weak men like you will be begging to be spared by men like me.
Isabelle entered her class, the creak of the door cutting off Mr Edwards mid-lecture.
With an exaggerated sigh, he began another.
‘Isabelle.’ he said, savouring the opportunity to once again deliver some harsh verbal discipline. ‘This is the second day on the trot. It’s the final year of your high school education, and I do not want to be calling your parents, and having to tell them that their daughter is slacking when she should be working hardest.’ His harsh features would have appeared utterly serious to any but the most perceptive student, but a small glint in his eye betrayed to Isabelle a secret pleasure at admonishing the girl.
Isabelle felt a paralysingly cold feeling of anxiety shiver through her. ‘Oh no, Sir, it’s not nece-’
‘Silence. I won’t call up your parents, but this behaviour is not acceptable. Is that clear?’
‘Yes Sir, it won’t happen again Sir-’
‘Great. Now that’s cleared up – turn to page 172 of your textbooks and complete Exercise 2a. We can discuss answers in…’ he looked at the clock. ‘Say, 5 minutes.’
After sharing a sheepish look with Nicole, she opened up her textbook and began to work. Isabelle didn’t like to admit it, but his harsh tone had only fed into a need that she had only ever felt around Darius; to submit. A wash of goosebumps broke out on her skin at the thought and she shivered, rubbing her bare thighs together.
Mr Edwards licked his lips. He found it hard to believe, but Isabelle appeared even more attractive than yesterday. It’s her heels… he realised. Those definitely aren’t school policy… An idea took form in his mind, and his eyes shone with glee. Delightful…
It was an agonising hour for him, but eventually the bell rang. It was break.
‘Alright – I think I next see you on Friday, so I’ll be checking homework then.’ As Class 13A slid textbooks into bags and began to filter out of the room when Isabelle, still packing her stuff, was approached by Mr Edwards.
‘Isabelle would you mind staying for a couple of minutes after lesson?’
‘I just think we need to have a chat about your recent behaviour.’ He stared at her with two beady eyes, his face expressionless. She nodded, and he walked back to his desk. As the last few students left the room Isabelle was left isolated, wondering what to say. He began typing on his computer as Isabelle shuffled from one foot to the other. Her breasts lightly jiggled as he did so, and she saw his eyes flick briefly to her chest. Ignoring the warmth that would threaten to melt her mind, she focused. What did he want her to say? ‘What is it sir?’
He slowly turned to face her again. He gave nothing away as he raised his eyebrows, peering at her over his glasses. ‘You’re turning up late for my lessons – and I think it’s fair to say you haven’t been concentrating too hard either. Now, under certain circumstances that’s understandable. But you know the rules regarding inappropriate attire’ he gestured towards her bosom and her heels – and for that there is really no excuse.’
‘Well, um…’ Isabelle was shocked. How dare he? No one worked as hard as her. Ron hadn’t been on time for months, but he’d never mentioned it to him – what was his problem with her? Her heels were sexy, and the blouses were all so conservative anyway. He should be enjoying the fact that one of his students is confident in her body, and wants to be sexy, she thought. He still sat there, waiting. She resisted the urge to stamp her foot on the floor and yell that it wasn’t fair. ‘I don’t know Sir – the topic is really hard, that’s all. And I like how I dress.’
‘If there’s a problem Isabelle, you know you can talk to me. Avoiding your classes is not going to make the maths disappear. And your clothing isn’t just a personal issue – at least half the male pupils in this class were distracted this lesson by your outfit.’
She wanted to remind him that she hadn’t actually missed any of his classes, but she felt such an overwhelming flush of delight in the knowledge that her body was having such an impact on the boys in her class, that all she could manage was a soft moan. He continued.
‘Isabelle, this sort of behaviour is not acceptable from an upper-sixth pupil. I’m afraid I’ll have to book you in for a detention this evening. School policy, I’m afraid.’
‘Well actually Sir I’m meant to be doing something…at…’ her voice faltered. She felt like a deer in headlights under his intense stare and smug half-smile that almost imperceptibly pulled at the corners of his lips. He’s enjoying this she realised. What a creep. she thought, but she felt her pussy involuntarily moisten. What’s wrong with me..? Oh God, and what if I’m late to see Darius? Isabelle felt a rising wave of panic. Would he be angry with her? She groaned in frustration.
Spoiled brat. She deserves worse than what she gets. ‘Isabelle you are breaking school policy. It’s that simple.’
He looked back at his computer screen, and continued typing. Slowly the beginnings of an idea formed in her mind. She smirked to herself, and she bit her lip as her plan slowly took form. That might just work… ‘Sir…you’re right. I just haven’t been able to focus these last few days.’ she said, and she began toying with a curl of her hair.
Without looking away from his screen, he said ‘In what way? If there are troubles at home, the school has a number of schemes to support you.’
Isabelle sighed, and her shoulders slumped. She began to fiddle with the hem of her skirt, rubbing the fabric across her fingers. ‘Well, it’s not really a problem they can help with Sir. It’s not a home problem. You see, there’s this…well…’
Mr Edwards carefully removed his glasses and put them on his desk. He leaned back, and put the tips of his fingers together, resting on his chest. ‘Is this about a boy?’
Isabelle awkwardly shifted balance from one foot to the other. Her bashful look told him the answer. Her hands clasped together at the front of her skirt, tentatively pushing her breasts together. He smiled. So that’s what this is about…
‘Isabelle, I’m not going to tell you to cut off your relationship. But if it’s getting in the way of your studying…well, I’m your teacher, and you know what I think.’ His eyes shone.
Isabelle tossed her hair over her shoulder and gazed upwards, smiling. ‘Yes Sir. It’s just…I can’t…’ she sighed. ‘You must know what it’s like. I’m sure you were young and in love once.’
Mr Edwards chuckled. ‘I was young and foolish once.’
‘Then you must know what it’s like to have all these feelings, to make mistakes… I just need to see him today, to get something back.’
Mr Edwards leaned forwards. ‘Why, has he got something of yours?’
‘Yes, and he said I could only get them back at the end of the day…that’s why I’ve been so distracted Sir. Now can you please let me get to break?’
Mr Edwards blinked rapidly. ‘Isabelle, I’m afraid I don’t understand. What haven’t you got?’
Isabelle mumbled something, blushing deeply.
‘Isabelle I can’t hear you. Speak up.’
‘I haven’t…got any panties.’ She looked at him with wide doe-eyes.
Mr Edwards throat went dry. [/i]Oh my God.[/i] He pinched himself. This is happening. This is really happening. His cock strained so hard against his pants he thought they might split. All reservations and considerations were drowned out by his raging desire to ravage the sweet thing that stood before him. ‘Isabelle…you can’t be serious.’ He stood up, not breaking eye contact. ‘You’re not seriously suggesting…you would prance into my classroom, all sheepish and apologetic, whilst you were wearing nothing under your skirt?’ As he stood up Isabelle saw a tightness in his trousers. Their faces were inches away, and Isabelle was breathing hard.
‘But Sir…surely you can understand…I wouldn’t lie to you.’ She bit her lip. ‘I just got carried away…I don’t know what to do.’
‘Isabelle, that’s enough. I need to know if you’re lying to me. If you are, Isabelle, your punishment will be worse than if you’re breaking the dress code.’
‘B-but Sir, you can’t be suggesting…oh, it’s not right…you’re my teacher…’
‘Isabelle you seem to be in no fit state to be making moral judgements. Now if you’re not willing to display your innocence then I will for you.’ He couldn’t believe his luck. Here was one of his cutest students, tremoring and bending to his will, right in front of him. This is even easier than I imagined…
She knew she should be worried, that this wasn’t appropriate, but she felt so hot under his intense gaze, and so powerless when he grabbed her with his firm hands. ‘But Sir!’ she squealed as he sat down, pulling her, face first, onto his lap.
‘You’re not just breaking school rules young lady, you’re a naughty little tease. It seems you are sorely in need of some discipline.’
Isabelle yelped as her warm chest landed on his legs, her ass pointing in the air. Isabelle squealed and kicked her long smooth legs, wrapped in white stockings.
‘Shhhh, Isabelle. You’re already in trouble. We don’t want anyone hearing…’ he murmured softly. He ran his hand down the small of her back, and over the curve of her rump, before flicking up her tartan skirt to reveal her bare ass.
Isabelle sighed as a waft of fresh air cooled her aching pussy.
He feasted his eyes on the two curvaceous, firm globes before him. ‘No panties. It seems you’re not a liar – just a teasing little minx.’ She wiggled her pale cheeks at him, and he licked his lips approvingly. He ran a cool hand over her smooth warm buttocks. ‘Let’s say…8.’ He squeezed the pliant flesh of her ass. She squirmed on his lap, and instantly he brought a hard palm down on her exposed rear.
Smack!
She squealed, and her muscles tightened as a red flush coloured her ass. His erection stiffened in his trousers.‘Isabelle, Isabelle, Isabelle…what are we going to do with you…’ He traced his hand down the seam of her stocking, and his touch sent a wave of goosebumps rippling across her skin. A hot thrill ran from her leg to her pussy. ‘Eight what?’
Smack!
‘Eight spanks for a naughty little tease. Did you really think you could get away with it?’
Isabelle groaned. Yes…yes, I did… ‘Get away with…what, Sir?’
Smack!
She jerked, a shot of pain soaring from her backside.
Isabelle felt dreamy. Despite the pain she was clearly enjoying this. Her ass wiggled at him.
‘Strutting in here with your high heels, your unbuttoned blouse…I should be the one unable to focus, Isabelle. You’re very naughty, Isabelle. Very naughty indeed.’
Isabelle giggled. ‘I guess so sir. I can’t help it. Sir.’
‘And what do naughty girls like you need more than anything else, Isabelle?’
Isabelle found it hard to think. Her naked pussy rested on Mr Edwards lap, and she wanted to grind it so badly on his knee, and relieve some of the building pressure. She felt a trickle of dewy moisture on her lips as her thighs rubbed together. Suddenly she got it. ‘Mmm, we just want to be punished sir!’
Mr Edwards grinned. ‘Correct. God, Isabelle – and here I was thinking you were a good girl. But here you are, exposing your ass to one of your own teachers. It seems you’re becoming quite the wanton hussy!’
‘Yes, sir!’ She writhed on his lap, wet and eager. He ran a hand through her illustrious long hair.
Smack!
Isabelle jerked upwards, her ass shuddering. ‘Oh yes, Sir! Thank you!’
Smack!
A rosy red flush blossomed on her smooth cheeks. Her pussy was on fire. ‘You should apologise for being a naughty slut. Tell me you’re sorry.’
Smack!
Her thighs quaked, and she moaned, her voice coarse. ‘Y-y-yes Sir! I’m so sorry for teasing you, I’m sorry for not wearing any panties-’
Smack!
Isabelle yelped, dragging her palms over her breasts through her blouse, aching to relieve some of the tension that threatened to overwhelm her. Her pussy begged to be touched, but Darius .
‘I’m just so dumb and horny, and I need to be-’
Smack!
‘-punished!’ Isabelle bucked on his lap, rubbing her clit on his thigh, desperately craving release. Mr Edwards rubbed a hand over the red tender flesh of her ass, and she mewled quietly.
Smack!
Isabelle cried out, before smothering her mouth with her hand.
Mr Edwards winced. Please, please say no one heard. ‘Shhh, my Isabelle. We don’t want anyone hearing us.’
‘Yes Sir, sorry Sir. It’s just that you said eight spanks, Sir. But that was nine.’ He touched her raw, sensitive flesh, and she mewled in pleasure, heightening her sexual arousal. The mixture of pain and pleasure accumulated in a well of passion between her thighs. They were drenched with her juices.
‘One more won’t do any harm.’
Smack!
Isabelle’s hips thrust into his leg, her ass cheeks shuddering as she writhed in pleasure.
‘Thank you, Sir’ she drawled breathlessly.
Mr Edwards suddenly felt a warm patch of moisture on his knee. ‘Isabelle, what…are you enjoying this? Don’t you know it’s meant to be a punishment, you slut!’ Before she could protest, he had pushed on her on the floor behind his desk. She landed, back against the drawers. crouched on her black heels. Her thighs were spread out wide, her pussy flaring. Her skirt was pushed up to her belly button, her blouse half open. She looked at him, mouth open, hungry with desire. Her chest heaved with every breath.
‘Look at the stain you left on my trousers, you dirty slut!’
‘I-I’m sorry’ she stammered. Each time he called her a slut, she couldn’t help but feel all warm and drowsy. Her eyelids flickered. Mr Edwards frowned, his sharp eyes squinting.
‘I don’t believe you’ He muttered. As he stood up, his erection was outlined by the tight fabric of his trousers. Isabelle’s lower lip trembled. Her arousal threatened to overwhelm the nervousness she felt as she stared at the tent in his pants.
‘I think you’re just saying sorry because you’re a naughty little schoolgirl slut.’
Isabelle let out a low moan, and her nipples visibly stiffened under her shirt.
Mr Edwards grinned. She gets off on it… he realised.
‘Please, Sir. I don’t know how I can…I’ve never…’ her voice trailed off as he unbuckled his belt, and began to run his hands through her hair.
‘Prove it, Isabelle. Prove you’re sorry…’
She looked up at him – he was facing forwards, his eyes closed. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared as if everything was out of focus. She felt all control melting away, her ability to rationalise slipping, dripping away out of her warm, needy pussy. Why would Darius tell me not to…not to touch it…doesn’t he know how…horny and…wet I am…as if by instinct her hips shuffled forwards. He stepped towards her and her high pitched breathing quickened, her innocent doe eyes staring at the outline of his erection.
With trembling fingers she reached up and slowly unbuckled each button on his trousers. Each digit felt as sensitive as her nipples, rubbing against the fabric with each deep breath. Oh my….am I really going to do this? But what about Darius…will he mind?
All thoughts were pushed out of her mind as a feeling of raw passion and sexual curiosity took control. She gripped the top of his trousers, hooking her fingers around his underwear, and pulled down. Mr Edwards could scarcely believe his luck; he looked down at the hormone-riddled teenage slut before him. An undeniably gorgeous specimen was crouched, half-naked in front of his desk, undoing his trousers, trembling with desire.
‘Oh my God…’ he whispered as his boxers were dragged, inch by inch, down his legs. With each heartbeat he felt his erection twitch against his underwear. Suddenly his dick sprang free, the head brushing against the smooth skin of her cheek. Isabelle stared at it, the shaft pointing at her, quivering. Isabelle gulped.
‘I’m sorry Sir, I don’t…I don’t know how…’
‘That’s ok…just, uh…lick it and…touch it’ His eyes flicked nervously from Isabelle to the doorway.
Isabelle reached out with tentative fingers, handling it with her smooth hands. She was taken aback by the…hardness of it. She had never seen one before, of course she knew what it was but…here…in the flesh…
Her mouth hung open, as she slowly stroked the shaft with an agonisingly steady pace. She dragged her fingers softly against the tight skin, his hard rod thrust out from a thick patch of dark pubic hair. His ragged breath encouraged her, and she began to twist her hands, creating a rhythmic pulse around his warm cock. I wonder how Darius’s compares… she thought absent-mindedly, as her hands naturally continued. The head looks so red…it must be sore. I wonder if it aches as much as my pussy…It must hurt if he’s as horny as me, and God knows I am… She cursed Darius, as her mind was once again drawn to her burning cunt. All she wanted most in the world was to succumb to the pleasure, to fall back, plunge her hands in the furnace between her thighs and come, thrashing and screaming.
She did not do this. She eyed the cock in front of her for another second, before slipping her wet lips around the head. Her teacher’s breath hitched. Somewhere in her mind she welled up with a depraved sense of pride. She stretched out her tongue, and trailed the tip across the sensitive head. She swirled across his tip, delicately tracing patterns with her tongue. She sent fluttering waves of pleasure down the shaft, the sensation lapping his thighs and balls.
She teased the tip, dancing across the top of his throbbing shaft. She encased more of his length with the warm sides of her mouth, pouting so as to caress more of his penis. She felt a pair of hands glide through her hair, massaging the roots. She looked up, but his eyes were shut tight, utterly consumed by the pleasure.
‘Oh my God Isabelle, yes…you always made me so hard when you walk into my class, all dolled up. But I never dreamed…When you smile at me in the hallways, when you walk down the corridors, I can’t keep my eyes off your long, soft sexy legs…I can’t help but imagine what lies under that tight little skirt, or, or…yes Isabelle keep, oh my God yes keep doing that…or pressing your hot little body up against a wall and, um, having my way with you…You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasised about you…or your friends…yes…’
All this talk was being absorbed into Isabelle’s mind, her imagination filled with images of sexual depravity. She imagined herself helpless under his rough touch, unable to withstand his throbbing desires…she increased the pace, stroking the base of his shaft, tickling his balls with her other hand, whilst she circled her tongue around the tip, her lips tight around his dick. She felt so good, aware of nothing but the aching in her pussy and the cock in her warm, wet mouth.
‘Mmm, Isabelle your tongue is…even better than I…ever imagined…I can feel myself about to…oh, come. Don’t stop doing that Isabelle, keep…um, sucking…yeah, like that. Oh Isabelle, my little horny slut…’ He rode the wave of pleasure, building up in the tip of his penis, his shaft felt like pure molten lust, and as she looked up at him with a hot sultry gaze, he felt the pleasure spill over into a mind-numbing orgasm.
‘Oh Isabelle! Yes, yes, you slut, yes! Take it!’ He felt hot cum soar through his dick, waves of hot pleasure coursing through the veins in his throbbing cock, and he felt Isabelle’s soft lips and her softer fingers lightly coaxing the cum out of his balls. He was in rapture. Isabelle breathed in sharply, and suddenly warm strings of cum coated the insides of her mouth, her throat. She spluttered, a warm stream running out of the corner of her mouth down her chin. She licked and slurped around the head, periodically jerking, more thick cum oozing out with every stroke of his shaft. Licking her full lips, she looked up at him, and he looked adoringly down at her.
‘Did I do a good job?’ she asked.
Mr Edwards smiled softly. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life – let alone his career, he mused.. Here was a young girl of 18, barely legal and bursting with youthful charm, utterly within his power, for now at least. He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her rosy cheeks.
‘You were perfect.’
Isabelle blushed, averting her gaze. She looked down at herself, and then she saw her pussy, a small smudge of wetness on the carpet beneath her. Suddenly reminded of her burning arousal, her hand instinctively found her way down between her thighs, but as she was about to dive into her aching folds, she shivered, remembering Darius’ orders. She let out a frustrated whimper.
‘Do you want me to…’ Mr Edwards gasped, still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm.
‘No, Sir, sorry. I’m not meant to let anyone touch my little pussy, not even me.’ she shrugged. She stood up, her eyes fluttering shut and a sleepy smile spreading across her face as she pulled down her skirt to a few inches above the knee.
‘Well, if you um – need any assistance then, ah, I’ll still be here. Oh, and…don’t tell anyone we did this.’
Isabelle flashed him a dazzling smile. ‘Oh that’s okay Sir. I don’t – and I won’t.’ Her eyes twinkled as she bent over to pick her bag, offering him, for a fleeting second, a gorgeous view of her moist pussy. She stood up again, tossed her hair behind her neck, before strutting out as carefree as she had done so walking in.
Mr Edwards set in his chair, drenched in sweat, the image of her sweet lips etched into his mind. His dick was still twitching as she closed the door behind her, leaving the