Collage of Agony and Ecstasy part 2
f resistance or fear. But all she saw was a mix of shock and confusion.
"Now, hold still, honey," she cooed, her voice sweet as honey. Stella reached into her black pocketbook, which was made of leather and sat atop her desk, pulling out a brand new, unopened jar of cocoa butter.
"This is part of the process."
Dipping her fingers into the jar of cocoa butter, she began to spread the cool, thick cream over his inflamed cheeks. Montagne's gaps and whines grew louder as the coolness of the butter soothed his skin. Stella took her time, savoring the moment. Unlike other teachers, who made their students stand in the corner after spanking them, or just sent them home, she understood the danger of untreated bruises and made sure to give every kid that was spanked by her aftercare.
"Does that feel good, baby?" She cooed, her voice a gentle caress in the aftermath of his pain.
"Y-yes, Miss Seoid," Montagne managed to gasp out, his voice hoarse from his earlier cries.
Stella's eyes lit up with a strange blend of excitement and determination. This was a first. Most of the children she had to discipline in this way were too embarrassed to admit the truth, but Montagne's honesty was a refreshing change of pace.
"Good," she said with a firm nod, her voice like a gentle lullaby in the quiet of the trailer. Stella continued massaging the boy for two minutes.
“ Wait here, honey, I’ll go get you a drink for your aching throat from one of vending machines,” Miss Seoid said kindly before walking to the door of the trailer, opening it, and locking it behind her as she closed it. A short time later, she returned with a pint-sized bottle of Purina water. She walked around the desk to where her seat had been, lowered the bottle to Pwoteje’s mouth and said, “Drink up,” which he gladly did without hesitation.
"Alright, off you go to the bathroom," she instructed, knowing that drinking that much water would make his bladder full. Montagne again obeyed her without question, running to the bathroom. After relieving himself, Pwoteje made sure to wash his hands so as to prevent further punishment from Miss Seoid.
When he returned, his face was still flushed with embarrassment. Stella took a box of tissues from her desk drawer and began to clean up the mess he had made on the floor.
“Did my legs feel against your wee wee, Montagne?” she asked him in a racy tone. Stella had never asked any of the male children she had beaten this question before, and she wondered if her student would answer yes, just like he had admitted that her cocoa butter felt good against his buttocks.
Pwoteje blushed greater than he ever had before, and After struggling to speak for a few seconds, look down and said, “Yes ma’am,” which caused her eyes to light up and delight.
"You know," she began, her voice casual as she crumpled the tissues into a ball and tossed them into the trash can, "I have a strong feeling that you've never felt the sting of discipline before. Is that true, Montagne?"
“Yes, Miss Seoid,” Pwoteje answered immediately.
“My folks don’t believe in physical punishment. They see it as abusive.”
The boy’s words convinced Stella that Montagne probably had foster/adoptive white parents caring for him. She had never met, seen, nor heard of Asian or African biological parents who didn’t bake their children’s biscuits when they acted up. The teacher had only ever observed white parents hesitate to strike kids suffering from naughtiness. She cursed the man or woman who came with the idea that simply yelling at a child or putting your hands on a child constitued abuse, believing there was a fine line between spanking and punching a child, between striking their hands and breaking their bones, and between harshly scolding them and calling them worthless and stupid.
"Well, from now on," she began, her voice firm and unyielding, "you're going to get a taste of discipline every time you misbehave. Do you understand me?"
“Yes ma’am,” Pwoteje say in a respectful and resigned tone. Inside het head, Miss Seoid was jumping for joy at her students compliance. She felt like a queen on the throne.
Stella leaned in closer, her silver hair framing her face like a halo as she whispered,
"From now on, Montagne, I expect nothing but your full attention in class, and if you don't give it to me, we'll be having little sessions like this after school every day. I've got a whole collection of tools that'll keep that cute little backside of yours hot and bothered if you don't shape up."
Her eyes glinted as she listed the items: "My ruler, my shoes, my hairbrush, a belt, or even a comb if I feel like it. And let's not forget about the paddle that's hanging in the principal's office, just waiting for a good reason to come out and play." She paused, her gaze lingering on his still-reddened cheeks. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
“Yes, I understand ma’am.”
‘So respectful and obedient, I think it’s time for me to increase the pressure’ Stella thought to herself before continuing.
“I’ll also expect you to pay attention in all of your classes, my boy. If I get report from the other teachers that you’re mind has been wandering again, as the old saying goes, you’re behind is mine!” Miss Seoid excalimed, enjoying the way he flinched at her proclamation.
“Actually, if you’d like, I could help you become a straight A student too! You and I could have some ‘special’ study sessions. I have no doubt that a sore, swollen, blistered bottom or the threat of one would motivate you to excel in this academy,” Stella added, looking at Montagne the same way a leopard might look at an impala. The boy couldn’t disagree with her statement. Having or worrying that his teacher would give him a throbbing bottom would definitely encourage him to make sure he got all his schoolwork done and passed all of his tests.
"Y-yes, Miss Seoid," he stuttered.
Miss Seoid clapped her hands together with glee, her smile wide and genuine. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I knew you were a smart boy, Montagne.”
With that, she held out her arms to him, offering an embrace that was as unexpected as it was thrilling. Without hesitation, Montagne rushed into her arms, his body fitting into the warm cocoon of her embrace. He felt her hand cup his bottom again, lifting him off the floor so that he was straddling her waist. His legs instinctively wrapped around her as she held him tightly. She rubbed his sore cheeks with one hand, the other stroking through his curly hair, sending a new wave of sensation through his body. He buried his face into her chest, his heart racing from the intimacy of the moment.
Stella held him close for three minutes, her breathing even and calm, his body still quivering in her arms. "Would you like a little more attention?" she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Your peepee seems to have liked the last time."
Montagne gasped and paused for four long seconds, the embarrassment warring with the strange desire that had bloomed in the wake of his unexpected climax. Finally, he managed to nod his head, his voice shaking. "Okay," he murmured, his consent barely audible.
Stella's eyes gleamed with excitement as she set him down, pullled up his shorts and underwear, and gently but firmly took his hand in hers.
"Good boy," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Let's go to my van.”
Miss Seoid put the water bottle and Kleenex into Montagne’s pants pockets and led him out of the trailer, her grip firm but not painful on his hand. The sun was beginning to set, known as civil twilight, casting long shadows across the dusty schoolyard. The other trailers stood in a neat row, their metal exteriors gleaming under the retreating sunlight. The remaining school students were too absorbed in their own activities to notice Pwoteje or his teacher walking towards the parking lot. He didn’t take the duo long to find Stella's red van, with its tinted windows, an island of mystery amidst the school's mundane surroundings. She took out her keys, pressed the button to unlock the doors, opened the back seat door with her hand, and lifted the thoroughly punished boy with her into it before quickly climbing in after him.
Once they were safely inside, she clicked the doors shut and locked them with a reassuring finality. The van was spotless, with all the things that Stella needed packed into boxes in the trunk, as the teacher despised clutter and filth.
Stella pushed down all the seats except the drivers and passenger seats, creating a flat surface that was surprisingly comfortable. She turned to face him, sitting down American Indian-style, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and determination.
"Lie down," she instructed, her voice still firm but with a gentle edge to it. "Grab the top of that seat," she pointed to the seat in front of him, "and don't let go."
Pwoteje did as he was told, his heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation. She reached over and began to stroke his erect penis with her soft, smooth hand. Each touch was like a spark to dry kindling, setting his nerves alight with sensation. Meanwhile, her right hand lightly scraped his inner thighs and testicles, sending shivers up his spine. His breath hitched in his throat, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan. Montag’s legs trembled as he resisted The urge to kick, worried that he might accidentally kick her and bring on another round of punishment.
Stella watched him closely, her eyes filled with a hunger that was both predatory and nurturing. She had never done this before with other boys, though she had very much wanted to, but without their consent, and admission that they enjoyed such intimate attention, she couldn’t proceed. Her touch grew firmer, her strokes more deliberate, as she felt his body respond to her ministrations.
Clinching the top of the seat with a white-knuckled grip, Montagne groaned out her name. Stella's smile grew wider, her heart pounding with exhilaration. She had never had such power over a student before, and the thought of it only fueled her desire to push his boundaries even further. With each stroke of her hand, she felt his muscles tense and release, his breathing growing ragged and erratic. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, her words a mix of encouragement and dark promise. 10 seconds later, she leaned back and sat back down, continuing her ministrations.
As the seconds ticked away, Montagne felt himself inching closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. He had never felt like this before, never experienced the overwhelming sensation of his body betraying his mind's protests. His hips began to buck and thrust against her hand, seeking more contact, more friction. 60 seconds had passed and he was losing control.
And then, like a volcano that had been building pressure for millennia, he erupted. His body convulsed as he shot semen into the air, the white liquid arcing like a fountain. Some of it hit the ceiling of the van, painting a small constellation of sticky stars. The rest rained down on him, landing on his groin, stomach, chest, and thighs in a warm, wet mess. His orgasm lasted for what felt like an eternity, a full 30 seconds of pure, unbridled ecstasy.
Stella watched him with a mix of fascination and satisfaction. When he had finished, she took out a pack of Kleenex and began to clean him up, wiping him down gently as if he were a child. She even took care to wipe down the ceiling, not wanting to leave any evidence of their encounter.
"Would you like mommy to kiss the boo-boos all better?" she asked, her voice a sweet purr that sent a shiver down his spine.
Montagne's eyes widened in shock at her words, but before he could respond, a blush crept up his neck and painted his cheeks a fiery red. He looked at her, unsure if she was serious, but the tender way she held the wad of Kleenex made him believe she was. His voice was barely a whisper when he nodded.
"Turn around for me, sweetheart," Stella instructed, her voice a warm caress. He obeyed, his body feeling both awkward and electrified at the same time. She had him straddle her lap again, his legs on either side of her, his bare bottom exposed to the cool evening air of the van.
Her eyes took in the sight of his bruised and swollen flesh, the dark plum color of his skin standing out starkly against the Brown carpeted ceiling, and brown leathered Seat of her van.
“Such a good boy, taking your punishment so well,” she cooed, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the van. Stella leaned in closer, her breath warm and sweet against his tender skin.
Her lips touched the first spot on his bruised bottom, delivering a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation was strange and foreign to Montagne, but he didn't resist. Her mouth moved in a gentle pattern across his reddened flesh, pressing soft kisses against each spot where her hand had come down in discipline. He felt the tension in his body slowly start to unwind as she continued, her lips moving with a gentle determination that seemed almost loving.
Miss Seoid took her time, her eyes closed as if savoring every inch of his tender skin. She kissed the crest of each cheek, her mouth moving in a slow, deliberate dance that seemed to soothe the ache. His body felt like it was on fire, but the heat was slowly being extinguished by the coolness of her touch. Each kiss was a sweet balm to his bruised soul, a gentle reminder that she was in control and that he was safe in her care.
“Tell me Montagne, have you had your bowel movement today, and did you clean your butt hole?” she said, her tone a mix of playfulness and authority. The question made him cringe with embarrassment, but he nodded.
“Well then, let’s just check shall we?” Stella said.
With a sly smile, she sucked on her index finger on her right hand, her eyes never leaving his. Montagne felt a strange mix of fear and excitement as she approached his most private of areas with the wet digit. She spread his cheeks gently but firmly with her left hand and right wrist, the coolness of the night air hitting his exposed anus and causing him to shiver. He watched in a mix of horror and fascination as she brought her right hand to his anus.
"Open up for me, baby," she cooed, her voice a siren's call that he couldn't resist. And with a gentle push, she slid her finger inside him. He meowed like a kitten, the sensation so foreign and overwhelming that he couldn't hold back the sound. She giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and began to explore his insides with the same gentle authority she had shown all evening.
Her finger danced around his prostate, sending bolts of pleasure through his body. His hips bucked involuntarily, his hands gripping the seat in front of him with a fervor that made his knuckles white. He had never felt anything like this before, his body betraying his mind's protests as he grew closer and closer to climax. 11 seconds later, and it was as if he had no control over his own body. He came again, the sensation so intense that he saw stars behind his eyelids.
Miss Seoid giggled as she felt his warmth spurt onto her free hand, the sticky liquid covering her palm. She took her time to withdraw her finger, her eyes locked on his face as she reveled in his vulnerable expression. She brought her hand up to her mouth and licked the semen off, savoring the salty taste of his essence.
"You know, Montagne, if you ever want this special treatment again, all you have to do is ask," she said, her voice a sultry whisper that made his stomach flip.
"You can come to me after school, or even to my house if you'd like. I'd love to have you over for some... personal tutoring sessions."
Miss Seoid reached into her pocket and pulled out a stack of sticky notes, writing down an address phone number with a magic marker. She handed it to him with a knowing smile. "Call me when you want to visit, and I'll make sure I'm all yours."
The idea of going to her house, of being in such an intimate setting with his teacher, was both terrifying and exhilarating. But the promise of more of the strange yet addictive treatment had his heart racing. He took the sticky note, his hands shaking slightly, and tucked it into his pocket. "I-I will, Miss Seoid," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed emotion.
Miss Seoid nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Good boy," she praised, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Just so you know, if and when you come to my house, I require you to remain naked from the waist down. I want to see that adorable butt of yours not to mention your cute little Frank and beans. I want to be able to reach out and smack your buns whenever I see fit, not to mention pull on and roll your boy bits in my hands.”
Her words sent a fresh wave of embarrassment crashing over him, but he couldn't deny the strange thrill that bubbled up in his stomach. "Okay, ma’am," he murmured, his voice small and submissive.
Stella's smile grew wicked as she grabbed his waist, pulling him upright so that his body was flush against hers. She leaned in close, her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "If and when you come over, I’d like to tickle you and listen to you laugh hysterically. I’d also like to take your rod and eggs into my mouth. I promise you that that feels a lot better than my hands.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire and unexplored boundaries. Montagne felt a thrill run through him, his cock twitching in his pants at the thought. He nodded, his voice lost in the sea of sensation that washed over him.
"Good boy," she murmured, giving his cheek a gentle pat. "Now, let's get you dressed. You can think about my offer at home."
As Montagne pulled up his pants, his legs trembling slightly from the aftermath of his climax, he couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and confusion. The power dynamics at play had left him both thrilled and terrified. He managed to get his underwear and shorts back in place, his mind racing with thoughts of what might come next.
Stella, seemingly unfazed by the intimate act they had just shared, took his hand and helped him out of the van. She led him back to the classroom, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement with each step. Once inside, she allowed him to gather his backpack, then said she would drive him home in a tone that brooked no argument. Miss Seoid Took his hand again and let him back to her van, starting in and driving it out of the school parking lot.
On the way, she brought up the topic of an alibi for his extended absence. "You know, Montagne, we should come up with a good story for your folks," she said, her eyes on the road ahead. "How about you tell them you were helping me tutor some of the other kids who are struggling?"
"But Miss Seoid, I don't have to be home right after school," he replied, his voice still shaky from the aftermath of the van.
“I've got until the street lights come on."
Miss Seoid nodded thoughtfully, stroking her chin with her free hand. "That's true, Montagne," she said.
"But it would be better for everyone if you had a good excuse. It'll show that you're taking initiative and helping others."
She gave him a knowing look.
“Plus, it'll cover our little... extracurricular activities, should anyone ask."
Montagne swallowed hard, the implications of her words sinking in. "Yeah," he murmured. "Tutoring. That's what I'll tell them."
When they arrived at his address, Miss Seoid pulled the van to a smooth stop. She turned to him, her eyes searching his. Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, the kiss lingering for a full ten seconds. It was a gentle, almost motherly gesture that seemed to seal their unspoken agreement.
As Montagn
"Now, hold still, honey," she cooed, her voice sweet as honey. Stella reached into her black pocketbook, which was made of leather and sat atop her desk, pulling out a brand new, unopened jar of cocoa butter.
"This is part of the process."
Dipping her fingers into the jar of cocoa butter, she began to spread the cool, thick cream over his inflamed cheeks. Montagne's gaps and whines grew louder as the coolness of the butter soothed his skin. Stella took her time, savoring the moment. Unlike other teachers, who made their students stand in the corner after spanking them, or just sent them home, she understood the danger of untreated bruises and made sure to give every kid that was spanked by her aftercare.
"Does that feel good, baby?" She cooed, her voice a gentle caress in the aftermath of his pain.
"Y-yes, Miss Seoid," Montagne managed to gasp out, his voice hoarse from his earlier cries.
Stella's eyes lit up with a strange blend of excitement and determination. This was a first. Most of the children she had to discipline in this way were too embarrassed to admit the truth, but Montagne's honesty was a refreshing change of pace.
"Good," she said with a firm nod, her voice like a gentle lullaby in the quiet of the trailer. Stella continued massaging the boy for two minutes.
“ Wait here, honey, I’ll go get you a drink for your aching throat from one of vending machines,” Miss Seoid said kindly before walking to the door of the trailer, opening it, and locking it behind her as she closed it. A short time later, she returned with a pint-sized bottle of Purina water. She walked around the desk to where her seat had been, lowered the bottle to Pwoteje’s mouth and said, “Drink up,” which he gladly did without hesitation.
"Alright, off you go to the bathroom," she instructed, knowing that drinking that much water would make his bladder full. Montagne again obeyed her without question, running to the bathroom. After relieving himself, Pwoteje made sure to wash his hands so as to prevent further punishment from Miss Seoid.
When he returned, his face was still flushed with embarrassment. Stella took a box of tissues from her desk drawer and began to clean up the mess he had made on the floor.
“Did my legs feel against your wee wee, Montagne?” she asked him in a racy tone. Stella had never asked any of the male children she had beaten this question before, and she wondered if her student would answer yes, just like he had admitted that her cocoa butter felt good against his buttocks.
Pwoteje blushed greater than he ever had before, and After struggling to speak for a few seconds, look down and said, “Yes ma’am,” which caused her eyes to light up and delight.
"You know," she began, her voice casual as she crumpled the tissues into a ball and tossed them into the trash can, "I have a strong feeling that you've never felt the sting of discipline before. Is that true, Montagne?"
“Yes, Miss Seoid,” Pwoteje answered immediately.
“My folks don’t believe in physical punishment. They see it as abusive.”
The boy’s words convinced Stella that Montagne probably had foster/adoptive white parents caring for him. She had never met, seen, nor heard of Asian or African biological parents who didn’t bake their children’s biscuits when they acted up. The teacher had only ever observed white parents hesitate to strike kids suffering from naughtiness. She cursed the man or woman who came with the idea that simply yelling at a child or putting your hands on a child constitued abuse, believing there was a fine line between spanking and punching a child, between striking their hands and breaking their bones, and between harshly scolding them and calling them worthless and stupid.
"Well, from now on," she began, her voice firm and unyielding, "you're going to get a taste of discipline every time you misbehave. Do you understand me?"
“Yes ma’am,” Pwoteje say in a respectful and resigned tone. Inside het head, Miss Seoid was jumping for joy at her students compliance. She felt like a queen on the throne.
Stella leaned in closer, her silver hair framing her face like a halo as she whispered,
"From now on, Montagne, I expect nothing but your full attention in class, and if you don't give it to me, we'll be having little sessions like this after school every day. I've got a whole collection of tools that'll keep that cute little backside of yours hot and bothered if you don't shape up."
Her eyes glinted as she listed the items: "My ruler, my shoes, my hairbrush, a belt, or even a comb if I feel like it. And let's not forget about the paddle that's hanging in the principal's office, just waiting for a good reason to come out and play." She paused, her gaze lingering on his still-reddened cheeks. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
“Yes, I understand ma’am.”
‘So respectful and obedient, I think it’s time for me to increase the pressure’ Stella thought to herself before continuing.
“I’ll also expect you to pay attention in all of your classes, my boy. If I get report from the other teachers that you’re mind has been wandering again, as the old saying goes, you’re behind is mine!” Miss Seoid excalimed, enjoying the way he flinched at her proclamation.
“Actually, if you’d like, I could help you become a straight A student too! You and I could have some ‘special’ study sessions. I have no doubt that a sore, swollen, blistered bottom or the threat of one would motivate you to excel in this academy,” Stella added, looking at Montagne the same way a leopard might look at an impala. The boy couldn’t disagree with her statement. Having or worrying that his teacher would give him a throbbing bottom would definitely encourage him to make sure he got all his schoolwork done and passed all of his tests.
"Y-yes, Miss Seoid," he stuttered.
Miss Seoid clapped her hands together with glee, her smile wide and genuine. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I knew you were a smart boy, Montagne.”
With that, she held out her arms to him, offering an embrace that was as unexpected as it was thrilling. Without hesitation, Montagne rushed into her arms, his body fitting into the warm cocoon of her embrace. He felt her hand cup his bottom again, lifting him off the floor so that he was straddling her waist. His legs instinctively wrapped around her as she held him tightly. She rubbed his sore cheeks with one hand, the other stroking through his curly hair, sending a new wave of sensation through his body. He buried his face into her chest, his heart racing from the intimacy of the moment.
Stella held him close for three minutes, her breathing even and calm, his body still quivering in her arms. "Would you like a little more attention?" she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Your peepee seems to have liked the last time."
Montagne gasped and paused for four long seconds, the embarrassment warring with the strange desire that had bloomed in the wake of his unexpected climax. Finally, he managed to nod his head, his voice shaking. "Okay," he murmured, his consent barely audible.
Stella's eyes gleamed with excitement as she set him down, pullled up his shorts and underwear, and gently but firmly took his hand in hers.
"Good boy," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Let's go to my van.”
Miss Seoid put the water bottle and Kleenex into Montagne’s pants pockets and led him out of the trailer, her grip firm but not painful on his hand. The sun was beginning to set, known as civil twilight, casting long shadows across the dusty schoolyard. The other trailers stood in a neat row, their metal exteriors gleaming under the retreating sunlight. The remaining school students were too absorbed in their own activities to notice Pwoteje or his teacher walking towards the parking lot. He didn’t take the duo long to find Stella's red van, with its tinted windows, an island of mystery amidst the school's mundane surroundings. She took out her keys, pressed the button to unlock the doors, opened the back seat door with her hand, and lifted the thoroughly punished boy with her into it before quickly climbing in after him.
Once they were safely inside, she clicked the doors shut and locked them with a reassuring finality. The van was spotless, with all the things that Stella needed packed into boxes in the trunk, as the teacher despised clutter and filth.
Stella pushed down all the seats except the drivers and passenger seats, creating a flat surface that was surprisingly comfortable. She turned to face him, sitting down American Indian-style, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and determination.
"Lie down," she instructed, her voice still firm but with a gentle edge to it. "Grab the top of that seat," she pointed to the seat in front of him, "and don't let go."
Pwoteje did as he was told, his heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation. She reached over and began to stroke his erect penis with her soft, smooth hand. Each touch was like a spark to dry kindling, setting his nerves alight with sensation. Meanwhile, her right hand lightly scraped his inner thighs and testicles, sending shivers up his spine. His breath hitched in his throat, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan. Montag’s legs trembled as he resisted The urge to kick, worried that he might accidentally kick her and bring on another round of punishment.
Stella watched him closely, her eyes filled with a hunger that was both predatory and nurturing. She had never done this before with other boys, though she had very much wanted to, but without their consent, and admission that they enjoyed such intimate attention, she couldn’t proceed. Her touch grew firmer, her strokes more deliberate, as she felt his body respond to her ministrations.
Clinching the top of the seat with a white-knuckled grip, Montagne groaned out her name. Stella's smile grew wider, her heart pounding with exhilaration. She had never had such power over a student before, and the thought of it only fueled her desire to push his boundaries even further. With each stroke of her hand, she felt his muscles tense and release, his breathing growing ragged and erratic. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, her words a mix of encouragement and dark promise. 10 seconds later, she leaned back and sat back down, continuing her ministrations.
As the seconds ticked away, Montagne felt himself inching closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. He had never felt like this before, never experienced the overwhelming sensation of his body betraying his mind's protests. His hips began to buck and thrust against her hand, seeking more contact, more friction. 60 seconds had passed and he was losing control.
And then, like a volcano that had been building pressure for millennia, he erupted. His body convulsed as he shot semen into the air, the white liquid arcing like a fountain. Some of it hit the ceiling of the van, painting a small constellation of sticky stars. The rest rained down on him, landing on his groin, stomach, chest, and thighs in a warm, wet mess. His orgasm lasted for what felt like an eternity, a full 30 seconds of pure, unbridled ecstasy.
Stella watched him with a mix of fascination and satisfaction. When he had finished, she took out a pack of Kleenex and began to clean him up, wiping him down gently as if he were a child. She even took care to wipe down the ceiling, not wanting to leave any evidence of their encounter.
"Would you like mommy to kiss the boo-boos all better?" she asked, her voice a sweet purr that sent a shiver down his spine.
Montagne's eyes widened in shock at her words, but before he could respond, a blush crept up his neck and painted his cheeks a fiery red. He looked at her, unsure if she was serious, but the tender way she held the wad of Kleenex made him believe she was. His voice was barely a whisper when he nodded.
"Turn around for me, sweetheart," Stella instructed, her voice a warm caress. He obeyed, his body feeling both awkward and electrified at the same time. She had him straddle her lap again, his legs on either side of her, his bare bottom exposed to the cool evening air of the van.
Her eyes took in the sight of his bruised and swollen flesh, the dark plum color of his skin standing out starkly against the Brown carpeted ceiling, and brown leathered Seat of her van.
“Such a good boy, taking your punishment so well,” she cooed, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the van. Stella leaned in closer, her breath warm and sweet against his tender skin.
Her lips touched the first spot on his bruised bottom, delivering a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation was strange and foreign to Montagne, but he didn't resist. Her mouth moved in a gentle pattern across his reddened flesh, pressing soft kisses against each spot where her hand had come down in discipline. He felt the tension in his body slowly start to unwind as she continued, her lips moving with a gentle determination that seemed almost loving.
Miss Seoid took her time, her eyes closed as if savoring every inch of his tender skin. She kissed the crest of each cheek, her mouth moving in a slow, deliberate dance that seemed to soothe the ache. His body felt like it was on fire, but the heat was slowly being extinguished by the coolness of her touch. Each kiss was a sweet balm to his bruised soul, a gentle reminder that she was in control and that he was safe in her care.
“Tell me Montagne, have you had your bowel movement today, and did you clean your butt hole?” she said, her tone a mix of playfulness and authority. The question made him cringe with embarrassment, but he nodded.
“Well then, let’s just check shall we?” Stella said.
With a sly smile, she sucked on her index finger on her right hand, her eyes never leaving his. Montagne felt a strange mix of fear and excitement as she approached his most private of areas with the wet digit. She spread his cheeks gently but firmly with her left hand and right wrist, the coolness of the night air hitting his exposed anus and causing him to shiver. He watched in a mix of horror and fascination as she brought her right hand to his anus.
"Open up for me, baby," she cooed, her voice a siren's call that he couldn't resist. And with a gentle push, she slid her finger inside him. He meowed like a kitten, the sensation so foreign and overwhelming that he couldn't hold back the sound. She giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and began to explore his insides with the same gentle authority she had shown all evening.
Her finger danced around his prostate, sending bolts of pleasure through his body. His hips bucked involuntarily, his hands gripping the seat in front of him with a fervor that made his knuckles white. He had never felt anything like this before, his body betraying his mind's protests as he grew closer and closer to climax. 11 seconds later, and it was as if he had no control over his own body. He came again, the sensation so intense that he saw stars behind his eyelids.
Miss Seoid giggled as she felt his warmth spurt onto her free hand, the sticky liquid covering her palm. She took her time to withdraw her finger, her eyes locked on his face as she reveled in his vulnerable expression. She brought her hand up to her mouth and licked the semen off, savoring the salty taste of his essence.
"You know, Montagne, if you ever want this special treatment again, all you have to do is ask," she said, her voice a sultry whisper that made his stomach flip.
"You can come to me after school, or even to my house if you'd like. I'd love to have you over for some... personal tutoring sessions."
Miss Seoid reached into her pocket and pulled out a stack of sticky notes, writing down an address phone number with a magic marker. She handed it to him with a knowing smile. "Call me when you want to visit, and I'll make sure I'm all yours."
The idea of going to her house, of being in such an intimate setting with his teacher, was both terrifying and exhilarating. But the promise of more of the strange yet addictive treatment had his heart racing. He took the sticky note, his hands shaking slightly, and tucked it into his pocket. "I-I will, Miss Seoid," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed emotion.
Miss Seoid nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Good boy," she praised, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Just so you know, if and when you come to my house, I require you to remain naked from the waist down. I want to see that adorable butt of yours not to mention your cute little Frank and beans. I want to be able to reach out and smack your buns whenever I see fit, not to mention pull on and roll your boy bits in my hands.”
Her words sent a fresh wave of embarrassment crashing over him, but he couldn't deny the strange thrill that bubbled up in his stomach. "Okay, ma’am," he murmured, his voice small and submissive.
Stella's smile grew wicked as she grabbed his waist, pulling him upright so that his body was flush against hers. She leaned in close, her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "If and when you come over, I’d like to tickle you and listen to you laugh hysterically. I’d also like to take your rod and eggs into my mouth. I promise you that that feels a lot better than my hands.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire and unexplored boundaries. Montagne felt a thrill run through him, his cock twitching in his pants at the thought. He nodded, his voice lost in the sea of sensation that washed over him.
"Good boy," she murmured, giving his cheek a gentle pat. "Now, let's get you dressed. You can think about my offer at home."
As Montagne pulled up his pants, his legs trembling slightly from the aftermath of his climax, he couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and confusion. The power dynamics at play had left him both thrilled and terrified. He managed to get his underwear and shorts back in place, his mind racing with thoughts of what might come next.
Stella, seemingly unfazed by the intimate act they had just shared, took his hand and helped him out of the van. She led him back to the classroom, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement with each step. Once inside, she allowed him to gather his backpack, then said she would drive him home in a tone that brooked no argument. Miss Seoid Took his hand again and let him back to her van, starting in and driving it out of the school parking lot.
On the way, she brought up the topic of an alibi for his extended absence. "You know, Montagne, we should come up with a good story for your folks," she said, her eyes on the road ahead. "How about you tell them you were helping me tutor some of the other kids who are struggling?"
"But Miss Seoid, I don't have to be home right after school," he replied, his voice still shaky from the aftermath of the van.
“I've got until the street lights come on."
Miss Seoid nodded thoughtfully, stroking her chin with her free hand. "That's true, Montagne," she said.
"But it would be better for everyone if you had a good excuse. It'll show that you're taking initiative and helping others."
She gave him a knowing look.
“Plus, it'll cover our little... extracurricular activities, should anyone ask."
Montagne swallowed hard, the implications of her words sinking in. "Yeah," he murmured. "Tutoring. That's what I'll tell them."
When they arrived at his address, Miss Seoid pulled the van to a smooth stop. She turned to him, her eyes searching his. Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, the kiss lingering for a full ten seconds. It was a gentle, almost motherly gesture that seemed to seal their unspoken agreement.
As Montagn
31-35, M