Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Lexie walked down the empty school hallway filled with excited anticipation. All the other students were gone for the day, but Mr. Sinclair had asked her to come see him when school was over … and she couldn’t have planned things any better if she’d tried!

Ever since her parents had moved her to this stupid country, everything had sucked. It was always gray and rainy and cold – not like California. The food was all wrong, and she missed burrito shops and gourmet pizza and vegetarian food (it had been really fun to make her dad suffer through tofu for a few months while she went through her “vegan” phase.) And she missed all her friends – she’d had lots back in California but here she hadn’t made any. Everyone spoke with those stupid accents, and way too fast at that, and when teachers asked her a question or other kids said something to her, she always missed some important word or two, and then everyone treated her like a total ‘tard when she asked what they’d said.

And the school! She’d been in twelfth grade back in America and somehow now she was a “sixth former” – what the hell was that about? And the classes were way harder than the ones back home, where she could spend class gossiping and checking out the hotter guys in the class, and still get straight “A”s. And her friends back home – at first they listened to her tales of misery and the suck-ass-ed-ness of it all with sympathy and a “Wow – that blows!’ at every pause. But now they didn’t seem to care anymore – they were dating hot guys that should have been hers, and they didn’t even have time to catch her up with the vital 411 – like they didn’t even care anymore.

And the teachers! Back in CA, she had some hot teachers. That guy who taught health class wore these really tight jeans…. But here, all the teachers were old and gross. Well … except for Mr. Sinclair.

He wasn’t all old and white-haired and doddering like the other teachers. Well, he was old, but not in an “Ewwww gross!” kind of way– in a sort of fascinating way. Lexie wasn’t sure why he was so fascinating, but she found herself staring at him in class, noticing little things about him, like how he had really nice eyes behind his glasses. And how his eyebrows did this dramatic arching kind-of-thing, like you might see on a bad guy in a movie.

But Mr. Sinclair wasn’t a bad guy in a movie – even though Lexie had started casting him as that in some of her daydreams. She’d think about him menacing her (she was the butt-kicking-yet-sexy star of the movie) and then his accent became almost kinda sexy. He’d tell her how she’d gotten in the way of his plans to destroy this or take over that, and she’d make a witty and sexy come-back, and then they’d fight, and, while she could have totally kicked his ass … maybe her foot would slip at just the wrong time, and he’d get the advantage of her … and then he’d lean in for a kiss. Not just a peck, which was all she could imagine that the British actually did, but a real, lip-smashing, mind-blowing kiss.

But Mr. Sinclair wasn’t a bad guy in a movie – he was as unfailingly polite as all British grown-ups seemed to be. Well, okay, so he did say really funny things in class sometimes that made everyone laugh and made the topic seem really cool. And, yeah, so the essays he assigned were, like, way more interesting than stupid boring assignments from the other teachers. But he was … just so nice.

Lexie liked bad guys. She made it her thing at school back home to always date bad guys. Like, you never knew who Lexie would show up with, but he’d have a leather jacket or a mohawk or, like, be in a punk band, or something. She didn’t really care, because they were all the same, and no matter how bad they looked, they always did what she wanted because she wouldn’t fool around with them, otherwise. And she’d figured out pretty fast that while bad guys looked cool, they were pretty much as pathetic as all the other guys, underneath.

But maybe Mr. Sinclair was kinda cooler than he seemed in front of the class. Like, maybe he was like Giles on Buffy and when the tweed jacket came off he was like Ripper. That would be so cool! Lexie always got kinda excited when she was watching Buffy and Giles would go all Ripper-y. So maybe Mr. Sinclair was like that, and maybe, when she got him all alone…

Lexie stopped in the girls bathroom for a second to look at herself. The stupid uniform skirt had been way too long. She’d made her mom cut off a few inches and re-hem it, even though her mom had been really annoying about the whole thing and she’d had to put up with her the whole time she was sewing and saying, “Now, dear, I’m not sure you’re supposed to alter a uniform….” Whatever! And the blouse … well, it was kinda okay if you kept it tucked in really tight – then it stretched across her tits nicely. She wore black bras under it, and they showed up pretty well, which looked cool and made her stand out from the other stupid girls in the class, who had totally no idea how to be sexy. They were still doing their hair like it was the ‘90s – seriously! That wasn’t even retro yet!

Lexie touched-up her lip gloss. As shiny as she could find, making her lips look even bigger than they were. “Pouty,” like they said in the magazines.

Then, just in case, she faced away from the mirror and pulled up her skirt. Yes, her white thong looked totally “school-girl” like – like in that porn magazine she’d stolen from her dad. Mr. Sinclair had to like school-girls – or why would he work at a school?!

She pulled her blouse tight again and let her skirt down. Time to go – she was probably running a bit late, anyway. But she liked the thought of him waiting there for her … maybe he was calling her in to tell her about “extra credit” he had for her. She had turned down other teachers before, in previous years – but she didn’t think she’d turn Mr. Sinclair down!

The door was open to the room, and she went and posed in the door frame: left hand on the left side of the frame, her right hand toying with the collar of her shirt. She waited until he looked up from his book to bite her lower lip.

“Come in and sit down, Alexandra. And close the door.”

A thrill went down her spine. He wanted the door closed! He had to want to screw around, at the least! “You can call me ‘Lexie,’” she told him.

“You should call me ‘Sir,’” he replied. Oh, damn, she always forgot about that! You were supposed to call the teachers here Sir and Miss or whatever. Really stupid, like you were stuck in some amateur production of Oliver Twist. Still, calling Mr. Sinclair “Sir” felt kinda kinky….

“Yes, Sir. Sorry. Sir.” She went to a desk right in front of his desk. Sitting down in the chair behind the desk would spoil the effect of the outfit, although it would make her cleavage more prominent …. She chose to perch on the front of the desk, leaning forward a bit and pulling her shoulders back to bring her tits to his attention. He didn’t register anything on his face. How frustratingly British.

“Do you know why you are here, Alexandra?”

She tried to look both innocent and entirely available in one look. “Oh, no. Uh, Sir.”

He got up from his desk and moved around to the front, and perched on his desk as well – now he was looking down at her. She looked up at him with the biggest, most naive eyes she could make. And stuck her chest out more.

“Are you sure you cannot hit upon a reason why I might have kept you after class today?”

This was it! Lexie’s heart pounded! Of course he couldn’t hit on her, all he could do was hint, poor guy – he was a teacher and all! Obviously he was leaving it up to her to make the first move! Lexie didn’t usually make the first move – or more correctly, most guys were left with the impression that they had – but she didn’t much care about that now. She felt her nipples harden and she hoped he could see it.

“Oh … Mr. Sinclair!” She melted off the desk and across the space between them and pressed her body against his. She hadn’t realized how tall he was! Oh, and he smelled yummy! He seemed so much more masculine than the boys she had fucked. She had to go up on her toes to try and kiss him. His eyes were even more amazing up close. She closed her eyes and let her lips fall open just a little, waiting for him to lean in and meet her in the kiss she’d been dreaming of….

SLAM! The sound was the first thing she registered because it all happened so fast. Suddenly, she was not pressing against his warm body but flat down on the cold hard desk. His hand was pressing down quite hard between her shoulder blades. The air had been knocked out of her, and she lay there gasping in shock.

“Since you cannot begin to guess, Alexandra, let me tell you. I am seriously unimpressed with your scholastic performance, and your behavior. And so are the rest of your teachers. We have tried to give you a break, as you have been – quite noticeably – having difficulty adjusting to a new environment. But you seem incapable of appreciating any of this. You have refused to follow the rules from day one. I cannot even begin to list all the rules you have flouted or outright ignored. You have been disrespectful – insolent – to your teachers and rude to your fellow students. And your most recent display of audacious behavior is simply appalling.”

She lay there, still shocked but now more by the stream of precise, uninflected words that were flowing over her. She had never heard anything like this – and this was certainly not what she had been expecting for this afternoon! It was a little bit like the bad-guy fantasy – but she hadn’t been, like, totally lectured and shit, in the fantasy! But he kept on going –

“I have been delegated by my fellow instructors to nip this in the – well, at this stage we are rather far past the bud, aren’t we? Nonetheless, I have some experience in corporal punishment, and that is most assuredly what you need. I don’t believe I have ever met someone who has been so drastically in need of it as you. Have you ever been punished before?”

It took her a moment to register he’d asked her a question. She had started to be almost hypnotized by the flow of his words, made more rhythmic by his accent. She had just remembered in a flash – before she had been flipped onto his desk (a desk that she now noticed was entirely bare of the usual books and papers – why had she not noticed that before?) his arm going round her and his hand grabbing roughly at her ass, squeezing it hard in his strong fingers….

“Answer me when I ask you a question, Alexandra.” Now that was a menacing bad guy voice! His hand pressed harder on her back.

“No!” she told him, feeling confused about whether she was supposed to be pissed off or turned on. Some guys she had been with liked to play kinky games, like tie-you-up-and-spank-you. And, she’d let them do some of that stuff to her – it provided a nice variety. But she didn’t think that was what he meant by punishment, although of course this could just be a very kinky sort of foreplay … but the next thing he said made her doubt that, too.

“ ‘No, Sir!’ is what you are supposed to say, Alexandra. It’s not that hard, is it? To show the least bit of respect? But I suppose it just proves my point over again, as if that was necessary. Since you do not know what to expect, I will tell you. In my hand I have a tawse – a Lochgelly tawse. It is customary to give six strokes to a disobedient student. Perhaps an extremely obstinate one might receive twelve. That is the number I had thought to give you, but in light of recent events, and seeing as how your infractions are numberless, I am simply going punish you without keeping count.”

“That’s it!” She thought. “He is just kinky! I should have known! Well, I let him hit me a few times and then, when he gets all worked up, I’ll distract him and get him back on track –”
He lifted her skirt. Now that was more like it! She wondered what he thought of her thong! She bet the sight of that would cut this whole “punishment” thing much shorter –

SLAM! This time it was not the sound (which was more of a THWACK!) but the length of – whatever the hell that was – making brutal contact with her ass. The pain started right away and then got worse. And kept on going….

“Fuck!” she yelled, and tried to get up. His hand held her down. “Hold still,” he told her calmly.

“No fucking way!” she replied, and tried to wriggle out from his grasp. His hand pushed her down in a way that was scary. She couldn’t get up! Wait ‘till her parents found out about this! They’d fucking sue this pervert!

She told him just that. He responded quietly, “I don’t think so, Alexandra. They have been informed that you at to be disciplined today for your bad grades and improper behavior, and despite their initial concern, we have convinced them that this is the best thing for you. They certainly agreed something had to be done. You are an uncontrollable little monster. But now you will be controlled.”

She felt his arm go up and the thing crashed down on her again. Again, the shocking sensations smashed through her. She bucked almost limply, hopelessly.

“Hold still,” he hissed at her, and he brought the tawse down on her again. But this time it was different. The slap of it went deeper into her. It hurt – fuck how it hurt! – but there was something … something….

Something went quiet in her. She lay still and took blow after blow. From him. He was giving her this … something she had never had before. It was more than the pain, although, even though she was crying out – screaming at the especially hard ones – there was plenty of pain. All kinds of pain, different and changing pain, as it went on. But there was something about lying there, with his hand on her back, but lightly now, just touching her….

The pain had gone in waves of bearablity. Sometimes she felt like she could make it through this, then the pain would crest up and she would be screaming uncontrollably and shaking. Then it would back down a little and she could breath again. Between cries.

But now it was really becoming too much. She didn’t want to move (her hands were already scrabbling frantically at the other side of the desk) but she knew that she couldn’t take it any longer. The pain didn’t die down now between strokes; she was on fire all over and she was going to burn up and die….

He stopped. He touched her ass and she shivered and moaned. She had before wanted him to touch her ass – very much – but now it was totally different. His hand moved gently on her ass, stroking the swollen, bruised skin. She felt like she was going to die, again, but now for another reason. Had she really ever been aroused before this? Not this kind of aroused. She felt alive all over – and so hungry, so needy. She had never really needed before….

“You did much better than I would have thought, Lexie,” he said, and his voice was low and caressing. She shivered and didn’t know what to do but lie there. Before this all happened, she would have known just what to do – and the ideas came to her but seemed all wrong. His hand slid down to her thong – he traced down to the plump swell of her pussy under the white cotton: the very wet white cotton. “Well!” he said, sounding surprised – and was it: pleased? She hoped it was pleased – she wanted him to keep touching her like that!

He moved around her, keeping his hand on her back, and then leaning over her. She felt overcome by his nearness, the heat of him against her. And then she felt his cock pressing up against her – through the fabric of her thong, of his trousers – there he was, hard and urgent. She didn’t know what to do. She was torn between wanting to move sexily and being afraid to move because he had told her to hold still.

“Is this what you came here wanting, Lexie?” he whispered in her ear. And he reached down and rubbed unerringly on her clit. Now she really moaned. “Tell me,” he whispered, a note of command coming back into his voice. “Yes – yes … Sir!” she said, and it felt so right to call him that, now. Sir. It fit so easily in her mouth, in her mind.

“You’re so naughty,” he continued, “Don’t tell me you’re shy now – I know you’re not. Tell me what you want.” His fingers pulled her panties to the side, and his fingers played about in her wetness. “Your cock, Sir,” she said, now actually feeling shy but not wanting to admit it, “You to fuck me, Sir.” It seemed so much harder to say when it was this real.

“That’s good, Lexie,” he told her, his voice hot in her ear, his hand having left her to unzip his fly, to get his cock free of the fabric. “Because I am going to fuck you.” She shivered again – his words were effecting her all over. “I have just punished you, and now I am going to fuck you – because you took my punishment well.”

The head of his cock now brushed against her labia. She moaned again.

“You are going to be obedient, now, aren’t you? You are going to respect the rules that I and the other teachers explain to you.” He paused, the head of his cock now having found the aching wetness at her center. “Yes, Sir!” she said, ready to agree to anything.

He laughed. “You’re just saying that right now. He leaned in again and his mouth moved against her ear as he quietly told her, “But that’s okay. When you misbehave again, I’ll discipline you again. And you’ll learn. I will teach you.”
And with that he pushed into her. She was so wet he just slid in, despite the tightness of her pussy. And as he got all the way inside her, she grew tighter with the spasms that began, and as he started fucking her in earnest, she was crying out again, from the feeling of his cock moving inside her, mingled with the renewed pain of his body driving over again against her aching bottom. The sensations became all part of the orgasm that rode over her like the pain of the beating had, rising up to unthinkable and down to merely incredible over and over again.

He got faster and faster, and she was now moving in time with him, both of them moving without thought, only instinct. Her cries had died away at some point, and now she was just panting and almost keening, so she heard every noise he made as his own orgasm built up. She had never really cared about anyone else’s pleasure before, but now, knowing that he was enjoying fucking her, that her pussy was pleasing him, made her even more excited than she had ever thought was possible. She almost held her breath, focusing on his every sound, every movement, and when he groaned and bucked hard against her she came again, just from the excitement of feeling him come inside her.

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