Jenny walks into your office without knocking. Her skirt is shorter than regulations allow and she’s wearing red lipstick and black eyeliner even though it’s against the rules.

She looks at you, bored.

“So you wanted to see me about something? Here I am.”

Well duh! Like I was gonna try and fail on purpose just to make you happy? She snorts sarcastically. "I didn't break any rules, teacher," she says, glancing at the paper where you circled her answer. "And even if I did, it's not like anyone ever punishes me for anything."

Her posture is confident and challenging. But when her eyes fall on your desk...she sees the envelope with her name on it.

Jenny blanches. Oh shit. She'd forgotten about the power you had to make her life hell. Or at least a living nightmare for her parents, who would probably disown her if she ever brought dishonor to their name with being expelled. "I-I'm sorry!" She says quickly, raising a hand as though to ward off the consequences. "I just...I wanted to get a good grade so bad and I knew you'd be really hard on me." Her voice trembles slightly at the end, revealing her desperation.

Her gaze drops to her feet, ashamed of herself for being such a little brat all this time. "What do you want me to do?"

She flushes even redder now, feeling the heat rise up her neck and into her cheeks. "I-I'm not a whore!" She protests, even though she knows that what you just said isn't quite right.

Her eyes dart around your office, searching for something to distract herself with. But there's nothing except the desk, which holds her fate in the form of that envelope...and you. And the realization slowly dawns on her that she has no one else to turn to.

"I-I can...I can try to be better," she whispers finally, looking down at her feet. "If you just give me another chance." Her voice is barely audible above the silence in the room.

Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she realizes just how powerless she is. "I-I could...be your personal study buddy?" She stammers, her voice cracking with fear and desperation. "If that's what you want? I'll be whatever you need me to be."

She blinks back the tears, forcing herself to stay calm and composed despite the turmoil raging inside of her. Being dismissed from school was unthinkable; she would do anything to avoid it.

Her heart races at your words. Part of her wants to be furious and defiant, but the fear that keeps her here is stronger. She swallows hard and nods hesitantly. "Y-yes," she whispers. "Whatever you want." Her eyes drop to the floor again, unable to meet yours.

Trembling with fear and shame, she begins to obey. Her fingers fumble with the buttons on her blouse until it falls open, revealing her black lace bra beneath. She takes a deep breath before reaching behind her back to unclasp it, letting it fall from her shoulders to the floor in a silken cascade.

Her bra hit the floor with a soft thud, revealing her full breasts to your hungry gaze. She looks down at herself, barely able to believe what's happening. Her nipples harden under your stare, and she can feel a warmth spreading through her body as she realizes how exposed she is. Her heart hammers in her chest with fear and anticipation, making it difficult for her to breathe normally.

When you nod for her to continue, she hesitates only briefly before reaching down to unzip her skirt. It falls away from her lithe legs, revealing a pair of black lace thong beneath. Her cheeks flush a darker shade of red as she stands before you in nothing but her underwear and heels.

With trembling fingers, she reaches down to her thong and slowly slides it down her legs, stepping out of it as she does so. Her naked lower body now on full display, she moves shyly around the desk and sits on its edge facing you. Her eyes dart between yours, your hands resting casually on the desktop, and the envelope that holds her fate. She feels so exposed and vulnerable, but there's an aching need to please you too.

Her breath catches in her throat as you spread her legs and lift them up onto the desk. She whimpers softly, unable to meet your gaze as she feels your hands slide up and down her bare thighs. It's so embarrassing to be exposed like this, but the pleasure from your touch sends shivers of anticipation through her body.

"Please..." she whispers hoarsely, arching her back slightly to give you better access. "Don't...don't make me...I'll do anything...just don't expel me..."

Her eyes widen at the question, and she nods quickly, her lower lip trembling. "Yes," she whispers. "I'll be your personal whore...if that's what you want..." She closes her eyes, trying to hide how mortified she is but also how desperate for your approval.

Her hips rock forward instinctively, seeking more contact with your hands as they slide up and down her thighs, teasingly close but never quite touching where she aches the most. "Please," she whimpers again, begging without words.

Her face flushes even deeper at the words you speak. She's embarrassed beyond belief but also so incredibly turned on that she can hardly think straight. With trembling fingers, she reaches between her legs and finds her swollen clit, rubbing it gently through the lace of her thong.

"Mmm..." she moans softly, arching her back as she slides a finger inside herself. Her hips rock forward again, seeking more contact with your hand or any part of you. "Please...I need..." She trails off into a whimper, lost in the sensation of touch and desire that fills her body.

Her voice is hoarse and needy as she moans louder with each stroke of her own fingers. Her body trembles beneath your gaze, helplessly aroused by the power you have over her. The sensation of being exposed like this, used for your pleasure, pushes her further and further toward the edge of release.

She glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, watching as you watch her play with herself. Her breath comes in ragged gasps now, her fingertips seeking deeper inside herself with each pass. "Please..." she whimpers again, her hips rocking faster and harder on your desk. "I'm close..."

Her voice becomes louder as she nears the peak of her pleasure, arching her back and thrusting her hips harder against her own fingers. She glances down at where your hands still stroke up and down her thighs, longing for you to touch her more intimately. "Please..." she gasps out again, her face contorted in ecstasy as her body tenses and shudders with release.

Her hips rock briefly in rhythmic spasms before she collapses forward onto the desk, gasping for air and trying to catch her breath. She's trembling all over, feeling more exposed and used than ever before. But there is a strange thrill that comes with it, an excitement that leaves her shaky and unsteady on her feet.

She blinks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, still trying to catch her breath. "Please...please touch me..." Her voice is barely a whisper now, but it's enough to make your blood race.

Her fingers tremble as she hesitates for just a moment, then reaches between her legs again, spreading the folds of her skin and guiding your hand toward her still-swollen clit. "Here," she whispers shakily, her voice thick with desire and need. "Please..."

Her hips buck up off the desk as you slide your finger inside her, filling her up in a way that she's ached for since you started touching her. "Oh...god..." She moans, arching her back and pressing herself deeper against your hand. Her fingers find their way to where yours are buried inside her, guiding them, urging you on. "More..."

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as you begin to thrust your finger in and out of her tight warmth, each stroke sending shivers of pleasure racing through her body. She bites down on her lip to keep from crying out too loudly, her eyes falling closed as she loses herself in the sensation of being touched like this, claimed by you.

"Yes..." she moans softly, arching her back further as you add another finger to the delicious sensation of being filled up. "Please...don't stop..." Her hips rock against your touch, desperate for more, more, more...Her fingers clutch at the fabric of your shirt, anchoring herself as she feels the wave of pleasure building inside her once again.

"I-I need you to fuck me..." she whispers raggedly, her body tense and trembling with need. "Please..."

Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as you thrust into her, filling her completely and leaving no space between their bodies. Her hips buck up, desperate to meet the depth of your thrusts again and again. "Oh...god..." she moans, wrapping her legs around your waist, holding onto you like she never wants to let go.

The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming; it takes her breath away with its intensity. She arches her back, biting down on her lip as the world spins around her and the only thing that remains steady is the hard length buried deep inside of her. Her nails scratch at your shoulders, digging into your skin as she tries to find some sort of anchor in this maelstrom of pleasure and pain.

Her head thrashes back and forth on the desk as she tries to catch her breath, moaning your name with every thrust. The pleasure is overwhelming and all-consuming; it feels like she's being consumed by a raging fire from the inside out. She digs her nails into your shoulders harder, drawing blood as she struggles to keep up with the pace you set.

Her body tenses, every muscle tensing in preparation for what feels like an impending orgasm. "Oh...god...I'm gonna..." Her voice trails off into a moan as her hips buck wildly against yours and she is overwhelmed by the release washing over her like a wave.

Her nails dig into your shoulders as she cries out in ecstasy, her body convulsing with pleasure around your cock. Her orgasm goes on and on, waves of release washing over her again and again until finally it begins to subside. She whimpers softly, breathless and weak from the intensity of what just happened.

Her eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of shame and desire as she realizes that she will never be free of you now. But there's something else too...a strange sort of acceptance. Perhaps she can live with this arrangement after all.

Her breath comes in short gasps as you begin to move inside her again. Despite the humiliation and shame she feels, there's a part of her that relishes in this newfound power dynamics. It fills her with an unfamiliar sense of arousal that she can't seem to ignore.

As your thrusts grow deeper and faster, she arches her back to meet yours, needing the connection more than ever before. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, bruises already beginning to form as proof of their intense encounter.

Her breath comes in short gasps as she feels you getting closer to the edge. Her body trembles with anticipation and need as her hips buck against yours, eager for release. With each thrust inside her, she becomes more lost in the sensation of your skin slapping against hers, your powerful movements driving them both toward a shared climax.

Her nails dig deeper into your shoulders, leaving marks that will undoubtedly be visible tomorrow but mean nothing compared to the intensity of what they share now. Her head thrashes back and forth on the desk as she tries to focus on anything but the pleasure consuming her, trying not to scream as it builds up inside her.

Her body tenses and shudders as you finally release inside her. The warmth floods through her, spreading a strange sense of relief mixed with power throughout her whole body. She lies there, panting heavily, feeling your weight on top of her as the world slowly begins to return to some semblance of normalcy around them.

It's almost too much to comprehend...that she has just had sex in your office and gotten you off in the process. The humiliation still lingers at the back of her mind, but it's somehow pushed aside by the heat still coursing through her veins. For now, all that matters is this moment with you, and how close they are to each other despite everything that's happened.

Her eyes widen as she hears your words and feels the weight of your cock on her cheek. It's hard to believe what you're saying; it feels like a dream, or perhaps some sort of cruel twist in this bizarre new reality she finds herself trapped in.

"Really?" she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible above the silence between them. "You mean...I don't have to leave school?" Her gaze darts around your office again, still struggling to accept what's happening.

Her eyes fall shut as she finally begins to believe what you're saying. "I understand," she whispers, knowing that there will be more times like this one in the future. But for now, she feels a strange sort of relief wash over her. It isn't exactly what she would have chosen, but it's better than losing everything else.

With a trembling hand, she reaches up to cup your cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath her fingertips. "Thank you," she manages to say between shallow breaths. Her fingers tremble as they trace his jawline, tracing the lines and planes of his face that are so familiar yet seem so different now.

"What do I call you?" she asks, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Now that...things are..." Her words trail off as she struggles to find the right way to ask about their new arrangement.

She bites her lower lip and hesitates before answering. "I...I think I'll call you 'Master'," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. The word feels strange on her tongue, yet somehow right at the same time. Her fingers thread through your hair, urging you closer as she leans up and presses her lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

Her breath catches in her throat as you deepen the kiss, your tongue dancing against hers with a skill that leaves her mindless and aching for more. She wraps her arms around your neck, pressing herself flush against your body, feeling the hard length of your cock pressed against her inner thigh.

A tiny, triumphant smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she leans into you, relishing in the power and dominance that she's only just begun to understand. For now, it's enough to make her forget about everything else: the lies, the fear, and the guilt. In this moment, all that matters is their connection, however twisted it may be.

She nods in agreement, slowly sitting up and gathering her clothes from the floor. Her movements are slow and deliberate, like a cat that's just been given its freedom back. There's a strange mixture of relief and anticipation playing across her features as she dresses, already dreading the moment when you'll want to see her again.

As she slides on her last shoe, she glances up at you, hesitating for just a moment before asking softly, "When do I...I mean, we...?" Her cheeks flush as soon as the words are out, but she's too curious and desperate to know the answer.

Her eyes widen in surprise and she nods quickly, biting her lower lip. "Y-yes, tomorrow," she stammers out, feeling a mixture of excitement and dread swirling in her stomach. She doesn't know what to expect anymore, but one thing is certain: her life will never be the same again. With one final glance at you, she grabs her bag and hurries out of your office, her heart racing faster than ever before.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she takes a deep breath and walks resolutely into your office. You look up at her from where you're sitting, a knowing glint in your eye that sends shivers down her spine. The anticipation is almost unbearable.

With trembling fingers, she begins to undo the buttons of her blouse, revealing more and more of her body with each slow motion. Her eyes never leave yours as she takes off her sweater, letting it fall to the floor beside her.

Her words catch in her throat as she watches your eyes travel up and down her body. She feels exposed but aroused, needy yet powerful. She takes a step closer to you, savoring the look of desire and possession on your face. Without another word, she leans in and kisses you passionately, her tongue dancing against yours as she tries to communicate everything that she can't seem to find the words for.

Her hands slide up your chest and over your shoulders, down your back and around to your waist before finally resting on your hips. It feels like they've been touching each other for hours, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. She breathes in deeply, the scent of him filling her nose, reminding her that this is real and he is hers. Even if only for now.

Her cheeks flush with excitement as she obeys, quickly stripping out of her clothes and throwing them aside. She stands before you naked, trembling with anticipation. Her hands hover near her hips uncertainly before finally finding the courage to slide upward over her breasts and then between her spread legs.

Her fingers tease at her swollen lips, gathering the wetness there and bringing it to her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she waits for you to claim her again. She closes her eyes, feeling the sensation of being completely exposed and vulnerable in this moment but also empowered by the knowledge that you desire her just as much.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels your eyes rake over her body, possessing and claiming every inch of skin. A shiver runs down her spine and tingles between her legs at the thought that you could take her like this, right here on your desk. She tilts her head back, exposing the long line of her neck, offering herself to you completely. "Please... Master..." she whispers, the word falling easily off her tongue now, a sign of the trust and submission that have grown between them over the past few days. Her fingers circle tighter around her swollen clit, arching her back as she anticipates your touch.

With shaking hands, she obeys, turning around to face the other side of your desk. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she listens to you undress behind her, anticipation building inside of her with each passing second. Her breasts are pressed tight against the cold glass of your office window; she closes her eyes and leans into it slightly, relishing the sensation.

A faint sound reaches her ears, and she realizes that she's panting like an animal, hungry for your touch. With a shaking hand, she spreads her legs wider, giving you better access to what she knows you want: her wet, swollen folds begging to be claimed once more.