SLUT 4 U - Part I free porn video

Darius walked up to the common room doors, his heart in his mouth, clutching a small brick phone. He could have used any phone, but this was cheap and somewhat archaic, and he enjoyed the feeling of punching in the keys. It felt more powerful. As he entered, he scanned the room for Isabelle. He’d got her number of a mutual friend over a week ago, because he’d never had the courage to strike up a rapport with her and get it himself. He caught a glimpse of her through the crowd of students. She was wearing a buttoned white blouse and a grey knee-length skirt. Her warm, tanned skin shone, and her face was framed with long locks of rich brunette hair which fanned behind her gorgeous face.

Darius had never had much success with other girls of his age. He had never enjoyed being the centre of attention, and tended to work, eat, and relax by himself. He had never bothered to make friends with girls, nor had he wanted to. Despite his lack of a social life, he thought that only the women who would lie at his feet and beg for his companionship were the only ones worth appreciating. Of course there were no queues of women lining up to do this, so he slowly harboured a resentment for the opposite sex. Why should I lust after these people - who, through no merit of their own, inspire affection and desire - when they don’t give a shit about me? He wasn’t prepared to be humiliated, rejected, or appear weak in front of anyone. However - he could do nothing to help his desires. He had to take matters into his own hands.

He checked his phone for the final time - SLUT 4 DARIUS read the message. He had paid some guy on the dark web to attach a widget to his message, £10 per character, creating a hypnotic frequency designed to make the recipient unable to resist the command, but completely forget the message afterwards. Darius was no expert in computing or neuroscience, but he had been assured of its functionality. He hit send and stuffed it back in his pocket. As he navigated the sea of students, he quickly spotted her face among the crowd. She was standing in a small crowd, talking to some of her friends. They eyed him closely as he approached, but he refused to be intimidated.

'Hi Isabelle, did you get Miss Williamson’s email?' he asked.

Isabelle looked up. Oh. It was Darius. 'No, was it anything important?' She knew him from English class, but never really paid attention to him or spoke to him outside of lesson.

'Well not really, I mean -' A noise came from her pocket and she held up a finger. Darius shuffled awkwardly. She opened the text. It was just three words, but already she had forgotten what it said. Her brow furrowed, and she slowly put her phone back in her pocket. That was it, thought Darius. She got the text. His blood ran cold.Did it work? Oh God, what if it doesn’t work. He realised his lost cash would be nothing in the face of being branded a creep in front of his entire year. If it got out….His stomach was in knots, and he felt as if suddenly everyone was looking at him.

When she finally looked up at him, her breath hitched, and she seemed to look through him, as if in a haze. A pulse of warmth had seeped through her body, and then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her skin covered in goosebumps. In a second her eyes refocused, but with a slightly pre-occupied expression.

‘Sorry, what were you saying?’ she said.

Darius didn’t speak. His heart raced. It had worked! Just like the man had said it would.

‘It’s just that we’ll be in room 82 tomorrow.’

‘Oh...well, thanks.’ Isabelle shook her head, and swayed slightly on her feet. A low rhythmic pounding in the back of her skull throbbed and made it hard for her to think. ‘Sorry, I think I’m having a...migraine or something.’

‘Oh no worries’ Darius assured, ‘I’m already late. See ya.’

The rest of the day passed without incident. Lessons dragged on, and as Darius was more occupied with worrying about whether the text would work at all, he barely remembered anything being taught to him. It was Monday, so Darius shared no lessons with Isabelle, but he didn’t see her at lunch either.

* * *

Darius…

Isabelle woke up on Tuesday, flustered and out of breath. Her nipples were hard under her silk pyjamas, and a wonderful warmth lingered between her thighs. She blushed - she wasn’t the type of girl to have nocturnal erotic fantasies. Trying to remember the dream gave her a headache so she decided to ignore it. As she got dressed for school, she felt a soft rush flow through her as she rolled her white stockings up her toned, caramel coloured legs. Summer had past, but her tan gave her skin a radiant glow. As she stroked her tender inner thigh, she sighed in pleasure, before cupping her mouth with her hand. What the hell? Where did that come from? She'd never felt so sensitive, so sexy, so...she stopped, aware that she was already running late for school. She put on her favourite white blouse and began to button up, her ample bust tightening. She stopped to look at herself in the mirror and ran her hands over her bust.

Mmm, my breasts look...really nice today... She thumbed the top button absent-mindedly, and anyone looking would have noticed the lids of her eyes becoming hooded. They are...impressive, and,mmmm...the boys will struggle not to stare… A warm, silky feeling enveloped her as she imagined Darius ogling her at school, and she involuntarily squeezed her thighs together. Darius? What the fuck? Where did that come from? Isabelle felt dizzy, and she leaned on her wall for support. What’s wrong with me today?

She needed to leave. She grabbed her bag, shaken from something she couldn’t quite remember and strode out of the house, trying to put whatever it was behind her. She just remembered Darius and feeling...mmm...mushy...or something. Waving goodbye to her mother and younger sister, an idea popped into her head to see Darius. She couldn't quite grasp what she needed to see him for, but she was sure she would remember at school.

'Hi Darius!' Darius was suddenly taken out of his textbook by a sweet voice behind him. He was in the common room with only a few minutes til the start of school. He turned round and saw Isabelle, twirling a lock of her hair, beaming at him. In his shock that one of the most stunning girls - who had barely even looked at him before - was striking up conversation, he completely forgot about his command. He then noticed her blouse, slightly open, giving enough room for his eyes to soak up the sight of her ample cleavage.

'Oh, hi.' He still hadn't taken his eyes off her magnificent bust. She looked at him quizzically. She felt she ought to be annoyed at him. Furious even. But she just felt...milky. Something was...wrong. What was I going to say? she thought to herself. What’s up with me? Why do I feel so strange? She gulped nervously.

He flicked his eyes up to meet her gaze. ‘So, what is it?’

Was he staring at my breasts this whole time? ‘Darius.’ she said, incredulous. ‘Were you just...looking…’

‘Your tits?’ He smirked. ‘Yes. Why?’

'Well - you um...you really ought to...' his gaze wandered back down to her chest, trying to immortalize her gorgeous figure in his memory. Her chest heaved. All this talk is getting me all confused. Oh, dammit! Why can’t I just get the words out? 'Please, stop...oh...stop looking at my...um, tits.' Tits? She was shocked at her own vocabulary; Never once have I called my wonderful boobs...no, breasts, tits. Oh God, it’s so warm in here... His eyes seemed to be burning holes in the fabric of her clothes, and she felt her nipples strain against her blouse.

‘...Darius...stop. This isn’t right…’ But she couldn’t help it. Wherever his gaze wandered, her skin would become hot and bothered, and she suddenly felt an urge to completely unbutton her shirt, let some cool air dissipate the stuffiness of her chest...completely bare her wonderful mounds. Mmm… oh yeah...I feel so...warm and fuzzy, If I could just…He looked up at her.

'Isabelle, seriously; what was it you wanted?' He noticed her eyes glaze over as he stared at her, and he grinned wolfishly, knowing that he had total control over his pet.

'Um, well, I’ve been trying to tell you...I just thought that...uh'. She was so flustered. Her face was read and she couldn’t work out what she wanted to say. All she could think about were the two wonderful breasts tight against her blouse, the warmth seeping over her, the touch of the her tender flesh against the fabric.

Why am I so...horny? School is a place for learning, not to entertain foolish boys. I can barely construct a sentence! This isn’t like me. I’m...capable, confident, and not some dumb bimbo. What were we talking about? ‘I...can't actually remember.' If it was possible for her to blush any more, she did so in her embarrassment. 'Sorry, I just...I don't feel so well, I think I might...need to take some para...paracetamol or something. I'm not usually like this.' It was true. She'd never felt so objectified, so docile being ogled like this. She didn’t know whether to slap him or...

'Oh no worries. It’s okay.' Darius replied, still smiling. 'Oh and by the way, nice look. You should definitely keep the stockings.' With this comment she felt a soft tingle wash over her skin, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she stumbled back a few paces. She felt her pussy moisten underneath her panties. She collected herself, sneaking one last sultry look at Darius and then blushed, and hurried off. Darius chuckled to himself; his command had worked like a charm. She would soon become his stupid, submissive slut.

* * *

Isabelle was out of breath by the time she reached the girls’ lavatory. She had walked as fast as she could, remaining composed and dignified. But with each step her thighs rubbed against one another in her tight tartan skirt, sending waves of pleasure rippling inside her, delicate tingling sensations down her thighs, calves, and up to her breasts. She was confused and terrified despite her red hot arousal, and she kept her head bowed and bit her lip, unwilling to betray any inner pleasure she felt to onlookers. She burst open the doors, her chest heaving, and thank God no one was there. She hunched over the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw tousled brown hair framing her gorgeous face, her eyes glazed and unfocused and her full lips slightly parted. She whimpered as she was suddenly drank up her utterly sexed-up appearance. She looked sooo fucking hot like this. How had she not realised before? Her pussy moistened upon realising how much of an inviting little girl she must have looked to Darius, teasing him with her hot little body. She felt an idiot for looking so stupid in front of him, but, mmm...she just felt soooo good when he looked at her.

How could anyone resist her like this? It was silly to be upset with him. How long had she strutted around school, turning heads, yet completely ignoring her classmates advances? She sure had to make up lost fun… Without realising it, her hands had been roaming the front of her chest, her fingers creating delicate trails of pleasure underneath her shirt.

Her slim waist threatened to buckle under the mind-numbing pleasure she felt in her breasts, but a small part of her still had some control. A small part of her realised that this was not her, she wasn’t this sort of girl, this wasn’t normal. She was a virgin for god's sake, not some sexed-up whore! But her arousal threatened to totally overwhelm her, utterly subjugate the still rational part of her mind. She knew that if that small part of her were to resist, it would be destroyed, and then nothing would stop her from falling on the floor, ripping off her clothes, pawing at her breasts and her sweet hot pussy, until she scream scream screamed...better to just go along with it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small squeal. Was that me? She had begun circling her nipples, and now they created firm indents in her blouse. She was so warm! She could feel her legs weakening under this unnatural pressure, and so she retreated, falling back onto the wall. Her stocking clad legs spread as she leaned back on the wall, her skirt inching higher, clinging to her creamy thighs, teasing a reveal of her moist panties. Isabelle admired herself in the mirror, from her vacant eyes to her wonderful tits, flesh taut against her blouse, to her, mmm, her skirt, and her long, smooth legs which seemed to go on forever. Isabelle whimpered, utterly aroused by seeing her sexy, wanton body succumb to her throes of pleasure. As she moulded and pressed her hands against the pliant flesh of her breasts, they began to come out of her blouse, more and more spilling into view. Her hands crept down her sides, accentuating her gorgeous but petite figure, her slim waist and thighs. She saw herself play with the hem of her skirt, rubbing her legs, her delicate fingers rubbing circles higher, revealing more delicious curves. Cool air tingled her velvety pussy and ass cheeks, and it felt wonderful. A warm thrill rushed through her, countering the exposure, and she gasped as she saw her pussy in the mirror. Her panties were shiny and wet, and her thin pubic hair was matted against her moist pussy lips. A drop of fluid dribbled out of her cunt and dripped on the floor.

Oh my God, she thought. I’m utterly exposed. What if someone were to come in and see me like this? Her pussy opened in her arousal, the petals of her labia revealing her sweet inner nectar. I would be expelled, ridiculed, punished, punished for being naughty…she gazed at her feminine form, lounging against the pale wall. She was a Goddess. No one could resist her. She was the ultimate erotic fantasy. She had tried to think her way out of her behaviour, but found herself at a dead end. Ooh… she told herself. Don’t worry about anything but surrendering to the pleasure…her fingers found their way into her dripping pussy, and she stroked around her folds, teasing her tight little slit, tenderly stroking her clitoris, her bud. Her other hand stroked through her hair, rubbed her thighs, and she moaned in passion. Her hair fanned out behind her face, and she spread her thighs wider, watching her feminine fingers fondle inside her panties. She rubbed and cooed in pleasure, her clothes becoming ruffled with every shudder.

Her breathing quickened, and she slipped a finger inside her succulent hole, warmth spreading from her pubic region, her mind going numb with the pleasure. Her nipples were beacons of arousal, peaks underneath her clothes, but as her blouse sank to her stomach, her nipples slowly came into view, tentatively creeping over the edge of her blouse. It slipped down, and her full breasts bounced free, revealing her gorgeous flesh, thrust from her chest, two wonderful, round, smooth orbs which radiated pleasure. Her blouse was bunched against her waist, and she rabidly palmed her breasts, her mind enraptured by the wonderful state she saw herself in. Her pace quickened, her fingers plunging into her soft pussy, as her breasts screamed in pleasure. She cried out a high pitched whimper of joy.

‘Mmmm, yes yes yes, oh, mmm, oh...God’, she whispered. What if, mmm, what if I get caught, ooh, yes, oh my God...but it’s...it feels so good! Deep within her erotic fantasy, something took form. She remembered her conversation with Darius, how hot it made her feel, how delicious and sexy, mmm, oh Darius, yes! Her legs spread wider as she thought of him, her hips thrust into her fingers, her mind utterly submerged in submissive pleasure. If she thought for a second about why a boy she had barely ever spoken to was suddenly the emblem of her erotic fantasy, it was instantly hampered by the lust consuming her body. Oh, if only Darius could see me, if Darius could see how I looked, how I felt, oooh, so sexy, so docile, a doll. Mmm, I’m so, so exposed, look at me, a wanton hussy, ooh!

The thrill of being caught heightened her arousal, Oh Darius! She wanted to be played with, stroked, admired, desired, she was such a slut! Isabelle’s breath hitched; the thrill of her public nudity accelerating her passion, and pushed her over the edge. She came violently, and her pussy walls clenched on her fingers, her breasts, pussy, mind sparked with desire, waves of pleasure washed over her. Her blushing face was the pinnacle of beauty as she moaned in delight, looking upwards, her thighs quaking, her nipples electric and the walls of her sopping pussy, red hot, flared and pulsed against her fingers.

'Mmmm' she sighed, floating in the afterglow of her orgasm. She was out of breath, utterly immersed in a dreamy warmth as her fingers now delicately stroked her labia. Tingles of pleasure lingered in her legs, her chest, and she gazed at herself sensually in the mirror. She was overcome with her beauty, her legs flexed and fully open, revealing her pretty red pussy and her lean calves and thighs. Her body was covered in a warm, sweaty sheen which gave her skin an erotic glow. Darius…

She tucked her breasts back into her blouse, straightened out her skirt, and re-adjusted her hair. She got goosebumps as the cool air seeped onto her skin, hardening her sensitive nipples. What the hell got into me? Did I actually do that? The musky smell of passion that still lingered confirmed that, indeed, she did. I know everyone has hormones but...I’ve never quite felt something like that. However she found she couldn’t comfort herself. As she thought of Darius another warm fuzzy feeling came over her. She still needed release. Oh my...mmm...Shit! This isn’t love. It can’t be. Love is pure and sweet, not lusty and...degenerate! I wasn’t like this before - oh, what’s happened to me? There’s no way I’ve fallen in love with some...some guy I’ve barely ever spoken to…As she began to leave, She buttoned up her blouse - and suddenly realised just how good her thighs looked with her skirt slightly higher up her smooth legs. Maybe she would wear something shorter tomorrow...

Putting those thoughts aside, Isabelle was convinced something had happened, she had changed somehow. It was something to do with Darius. She didn’t know what, but there was no way she could continue like this. She had exams to prepare for, and besides, she was sure she could land a much hotter guy at university. She didn’t want to get tied down with less than a year until she’d have to leave. She would tell that creep to stop talking to her.

She had to confront Darius.sabelle found her way to class, mumbling an excuse after stepping through the door. She checked her phone. 10 minutes late. Her eyes were glued to the floor as she made her way to her seat, trying in vain to ignore any raised eyebrows and smirks. She sat between her friends, Naomi and Scarlett. Both rivalled her in intellect and beauty, yet they maintained a strong bond of friendship; albeit one that could at times descend into jealousy. The corners of Scarlett’s lips curled into a smirk, and Naomi nudged her, muttering,

‘You’re brave’. Isabelled frowned, before remembering that her teacher, Mr Edwards, was famously intolerant of truants.

Mr Edwards’ eyes had followed her from the moment she walked in. She had always been a stunner, but today her skin seemed to glow, and he noticed that today she was exposing more than the typical amount of bosom. He licked his lips. He was going to enjoy this. He knew that on many previous occasions, he had give in to her cute, thankful smile as he let her off the hook for whatever it was - but today something was different. Every step she took was imbued with a subtle sway of the hips, and her bust seemed firmer on her chest. He couldn’t quite put his finger on how - but she exuded a sweet sexuality. As she met his stern gaze, he thought her expression was not one of meek naivety; but one that was teasing, vulnerable, and threatened to break out into a shameless grin. He felt his cock stir under his trousers. He had fantasised since the beginning of the year about giving her a real punishment, but this would have to do.

‘Ah, Isabelle! I was wondering when you’d turn up. Just because the school thinks you can get an A doesn’t mean you can skip lesson. I will generously assume you were late because you were too busy preparing for this topic - so redeem yourself; integrate this expression here.’ 14 pairs of eyes peered at her. Oh no - surely they noticed her ruffled blouse, loose hair, her pleased vacant expression…and pieced things together...maybe they had even heard her soft whimpers coming from the lavatory.

She blushed an even deeper shade of crimson. She was completely distracted, and before she could stammer an answer, the teacher sighed and began to lecture her on the importance of attendance.

Isabelle wasn’t used to this. She was one of his favourites, and could usually get off scot-free if she hadn’t given in her homework on time, or was caught chatting in lesson. Sometimes she suspected there was more to his favouritism than her stellar grades, but she tried not to think about it. What had changed?

Mr Edwards relished her embarrassment. In a perfect world, naughty little girls like her would be forced to submit to their superiors, no questions asked, he mused.

As her scolding continued, she still couldn’t ignore the whispers, the judgement of her classmates…and the tiny thrill that shot through her body at the thought. Isabelle! No one thinks you’re a slut. No one saw you, or could have even heard you. Stop thinking about it - it’s in the past. Now concentrate on your education. And so she did. For the rest of the day, she successfully put all thoughts of Darius and her little episode out of her mind. She had lunch with Naomi and Scarlett, kept herself under control, and made it through the day.

* * *

Isabelle roused from her deep slumber the next day; the sunrise painting her room with daylight. She had chosen to sleep naked, and although at first she was worried it was a side-effect of her recent horniness, she convinced herself that it was merely more comfortable. She couldn’t deny however that there was something wonderful about the feeling of her soft white sheets gliding over her sensitive skin as she tossed, turned, and sprawled out on her bed. She rose groggily, slipping her lithe body into her dressing gown and making her way downstairs for breakfast. Her mother, father, and sister were in the kitchen, her sister Daisy stooped over her breakfast bowl. She was a couple of years younger than herself, but just as pretty. Isabelle walked over to hug her sister..

‘Morning.’

‘Morning’ Daisy mumbled through a mouth of cereal. Her father Michael was dressed in a suit and was reading the paper, occasionally taking a sip from his mug or biting into some toast. Her mother was packing her lunch, dressed in a black figure hugging dress. Isabelle was the only brunette woman in her family; her mother and sister both sported full heads of blonde hair. Isabelle finished up her breakfast and got dressed. She decided that she liked her blouse slightly unbuttoned, but not because of it being at all sexual - God no. Never. It just makes me feel confident! School is stressful, and I need to keep a good state of mind. She’d never really thought of herself as a sexual person, but now she was looking at a pair of 4-inch heels in her room and couldn’t help but imagine what they would do for her figure.

Nothing’s wrong with feeling good about yourself, is it? As long as I don’t get too carried away...after all, after I...relieved myself yesterday I did feel a heap load better and I was able to focus much better in my classes. She put them on, stood up, and admired herself in the mirror. Her calves and ass had become tighter, accentuating her natural curves, and her shapely legs seemed longer, making her 5’9 body stand tall and erect. She picked up her bag and left for school.

* * *

Isabelle strode into the hallway, hair tied up in a ponytail, hips swaying side to side; her heels adding a sultry spring to her gait. She relished in the fact that as she made her way through her fellow classmates, eyes would turn her way and linger a little longer than she was used to.

Conversations would dry out as her co-students drank in her figure. She was high, elated, beaming, and - she caught the eye of Darius. Her thoughts immediately fizzled out and she forgot what she was doing. She stood still in the middle of the hall. In his presence, she suddenly felt so powerless, so exposed. What if he doesn’t like my outfit? Is it too much? No...don’t be stupid girl. No one can resist you! She began to walk towards him, and began to recollect fragments of a memory...she had to talk to Darius about...something…

‘Hi, Issy. How are you?’ His voice melted her. Isabelle was sure she had been...she was going to do something...oh, but look at him...She batted her eyelids, smiling down at her feet, and squeezed her arms into her chest. Stop! Focus! He’s just a dumb, weedy guy, not some dreamy hunk.. Isabelle pinched herself.

‘Darius. We need to talk abo-’

‘Room 10, 5 minutes.’ Darius interjected. ‘I’ll see you there’

Isabelle blinked. ‘Oh - yeah ok, sure’ she said, and started to walk off. What just happened? She cursed herself for not taking control of the situation, but at least they were able to talk. Now she would be able to tell him...what had she wanted to say? Oh yeah, for him to stop talking to her. It was fun and all, entertaining boys, but she had studies to focus on. She went to her locker, loaded her rucksack up with the necessary textbooks, checked the time, and then made her way to room 10. It was on the ground floor and rarely used for anything but formal meetings and such. It was a small room with a projector and desk at the far end, with a small table in the centre. She walked further into the room, but a click from the door made her stop. She swivelled round only to find Darius, inside the room, removing some keys from the lock.

‘Darius? God, you’re quiet. How did you get in?’

Darius simply shrugged.

‘And...where did you get those keys from?’ Somewhere in her mind Isabelle felt a rising panic.

Darius shrugged again.

‘We came here to talk Darius, not make gestures at each other. Now, I’m not sure-’

‘Isabelle, are you alright?’ Darius asked, resting against the doorframe. He peered at her.

His question took her totally off-guard. ‘What? What...do you mean?’

‘Well it’s just that - well, everyone can see you’ve been behaving a bit differently in the last couple of days.’ Darius explained with a look of utter sincerity.

‘Uh I’m not quite sure…’ Isabelle’s resistance trailed off as Darius raised his eyebrow and stared at her cleavage, legs, heels. Isabelle reflexively put a hand over the top of her chest.

She felt a milky warmth clouding her thoughts. ‘Hmm? So what?’

‘Well’ Darius said indignantly, ‘I’m not complaining. You’re certainly dressing nicer.’

Isabelle felt all...nice inside. ‘Thank you!’ Her eyes narrowed. Focus Isabelle, focus...

‘It’s just that...you seemed rather...flustered when you came into lesson yesterday, from what I heard.’ Isabelle blushed. ‘But the strangest thing’ Darius continued, ‘is how you act around me’. Darius’ eyes lit up.

‘Yes, well that was what I wa... going to -’ Isabelle felt her breath quicken. She leant on the desk, steadying herself on her hand. Oh God, she couldn’t...think...thoughts all warm and fuzzy.

‘I mean, you ignored my entire existence up until yesterday, and then suddenly whenever I talk, you seem to go air headed, doll-eyed, submissive...why is that?’

Isabelle’s head was pounding. Darius was right. She couldn’t control herself. But it felt so good.

‘Darius, I don’t know...what to say...what’s...wrong with me?’

‘I’m not sure Issy. First you start showing your tits around school - fantastic decision, granted - and then you fuck yourself til orgasm in the girls toilet. What gives?’

Isabelle’s mind felt like fudge. Oozing, delicious fudge. I’m so happy he enjoyed my boobies…but...oooh hang on. How does he know about…

‘How do you know about...that?’ She squealed, her voice hitching. Darius chuckled, before standing up, no longer leaning against the wall. He took his phone out of his pocket. Isabelle flicked her eyelids at him, breathing heavily.

‘Anyone within half a mile could have heard it, Isabelle.’ She felt so, mmm, so good hearing him say her name. Yesss…she began to rock on her heels, her breasts swaying alluringly at him.

Suddenly a faint moaning sound starting playing, ‘yes’s and heavy breathing interspersed throughout the cooes of pleasure. Oh my God Isabelle realised, feeling her panties dampen and her nipples stir against her top. Thats...oh, that’s...me.

‘Yes, that’s you’ Darius grinned, turning off his phone.

‘But...but how did you…’ Isabelle whimpered. She looked so beautiful, Darius thought. Her eyes were struggling to focus on him, her body threatened to collapse under her fragile waist. Darius ogled her gorgeous body, which nonetheless looked as though she could crumble in a single touch. His erection stirred in his trousers.

‘Oh Isabelle, don’t think about how. You’re much too pretty to worry about thinking. It doesn’t become of you. Let me do the thinking.’

Part of Isabelle felt something was terribly terribly wrong, but it was paralysed in a brain full of thick, fuzzy, yummy feelings. ‘You’re a dumb slut, who has no control over her wanton desires or her hot slutty body.’

‘Ooh, I’m not a...mmm’ Isabelle went rigid, her chest thrust up, her breasts waving at Darius as she writhed on the table.

‘What Isabelle? What aren’t you?’ Darius grinned.

‘Please… don’t make me...don’t make me say it’ Isabelle began to sweat. She wasn’t a slut, was she?

Darius scoffed. ‘Mmh. If you’re not a slut, then why are you spreading your legs on the table? Good girls don’t offer their pussies to the first guy that sweet talks them.’ Isabelle’s eyes widened for a second, then her eyelids drooped.

‘I’m not...look at...ummm...my thighs.’ But Isabelle’s legs began to stretch out, her skirt began to cling to her caramel thighs, as they slowly widened, teasing a view of her warm depths. She looked down at herself with horror.

‘I’m looking, Isabelle. Your thighs dp look wonderful from this angle. What were you saying?

Isabelle grunted. Her legs inched further apart, her skirt riding up her legs. The tops of her silk stockings were now visible, garters like lines leading to her pussy. ‘Stop...talking...to me like that...oooh...you’re making me all hot...please’ Isabelle moaned.

‘Hot...like a little hot slut?’ Darius jived.

‘Nooooooo’ Isabelle whimpered as she spread her legs wider, teasing a view of her silk panties. Her tight ass rested on the edge of the table as her shapely legs dangled to either side, widening slowly, hypnotically. Her left hand kept her from falling over backwards and her right played with a lock of her hair.

‘You’re having a lot of fun here, aren’t you Isabelle?’

‘Ngh...only because you...it feels soo…good...I’m not...I’m not...’

‘You want me to touch it, don’t you? You want me to stroke your pussy.’

‘Aah...aah...ooh, it feels so...it feels so...Darius…yessss’ she whined as he strode up to her, cupped her cheek, then reached down into her blouse, feeling the warm flesh of her left breast in her bra. He unhooked it and threw it behind her. He rubbed a tender nipple through the straining fabric.

‘Ooh...oooh Darius please...please don’t…’ Isabelle mewled, leaning forwards to press her hard bud into his hand. Darius stroked his finger down her cheek, neck, breasts, waist, sending an electric tingle down Isabelle’s body. Her ragged form convulsed under his touch as it trailed down between her gorgeous thighs.

‘Oh my God Darius...we can’t...I need you to...please’ She looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

‘Isabelle’ he said, whilst unclipping her garters from her panties. ‘Please what?’

‘Please...I need you to…’

‘Keep going?’ Darius asked, as he pulled her panties down her smooth, shiny legs.

‘Nnngh...oooh, Darius...yess, you need to...put your finger in my little, ooh, pussy’

‘That’s what I thought, slut.’ Said Darius as he fondled her breast.

‘Ooh, um...Darius’ Isabelled whined.

‘What is it, Issy?’ He asked as he unbuttoned her blouse with his free hand.

‘Don’t...uh...don’t call me...uh...a…’

‘What?’ Darius asked. Her blouse came undone, and her lovely warm breasts spilled out of her top, her pert boobs pointing at him, begging to be touched. He sighed. ‘Is this the slut thing?’

‘Mmm, yess...I’m not a...I’m not a hot little…’ Isabelle bucked on the table as he probed his finger around her pussy lips. Her breasts bounced with every tremor.

‘If you’re not a slut, then why am I wasting my time?’ Asked Darius, retracting his finger. It pulled back a string of dewy pussy moisture. Isabelle’s eyes flew wide open, and she pounced on him, breasts pressing into his shirt, grabbing for his hand. ‘Hey, just, wow, do it yourself.’ He said.

‘Nuh uh, mmm, I need youuuu...your...ooh your touch...sets me on...fire. Can’t think…neeeed you’ She clawed at him, her hands unable to grasp his, and her bare pussy frantically rubbing against his leg. Darius would have found it comical if she wasn’t so deliciously shameless. He pushed her back onto the table onto the puddle of her juices. Her panties were lying, soaking, on the floor. Her blouse was open revealing her swollen breasts. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, her pussy was on full display, her legs wrapped in her white stockings.She moaned, hurt.

‘You can be a slut for Darius, or you can leave.’ He said, a firm edge creeping into his voice. Isabelle’s pussy flared.

‘But I’m...I’m not a -’ Darius cut through her whimpers.

‘I’m tired of this, Isabelle. Only a slut would spread their legs for me, show your tits for me, and let me finger their pussy. Face it, Issy. You’re obsessed with me. And to not admit it is both pitiful and a lie.’ Darius was gripped by a sadistic but erotic thrill, and his eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger.

‘Yes…..’ Isabelle trailed off. It’s all true…

‘You must be so horny, Isabelle. You must need to come so badly.’ Isabelle’s labia was warm and engorged, flaring with every breath. Her ass clenched and unclenched, her hips thrust forwards with every ragged breath. A little drop of moisture oozed from her pussy at the thought, tickling her sensitive lips.

‘OhGodYes, please, mmm, oh please make me, Darius I’ll be yours, Darius -’

He placed his hand back on her warm pussy and began rubbing her clit. ‘Does my little slut like that?’

Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, biting her lip. She brushed some stray hair out of her face and beamed at him. ‘Ooh, yeah, mmm, your little…’ her voice hitched, and she whined at his touch.

‘Say it’ Darius said in a sing song voice. He slowed down the rubbing of his finger.

‘Oooh, nooo, Darius, don’t...don’t stop’ She moaned breathlessly.

‘You want me to keep fingering your pussy?’ She nodded.

‘You like it when I touch your pussy and I fondle your tits?’

‘Ooh yes Darius...I...like it when...you make me….you make me so wet when, mmm, you touch my pussy and...ooh you fondle my tits.’

‘And don’t sluts enjoy getting this pussies stroked and their breasts fondled?’ Isabelle closed her eyes dreamily, a serene smile spreading across her face.

‘Oooh, yes, I’m sure...they...do’ She replied.

‘Then you’re a hot little slut, aren’t you Isabelle?’ Her pussy secreted more juices, and she shook on the table, her thighs flaring.

‘Mmm...Darius...oh, oh my God...Darius….Yes!…Yours!...’

‘What are you, Isabelle?’ He asked as he thrust another finger into her tight pussy. He felt her hymen at the back of her constricting walls. ‘A virgin doesn’t just beg for a finger in her tight pussy like this.’

‘You...oh Darius yes...my virgin pussy...aches for...you, Darius’ Her voice dripped with unbridled lust. She slowly looked up at him with her wide brown eyes, her face utterly sublime, gazing adoringly at him. Darius smiled. She knew then that she loved him. She panted under his touch, swaying back and forth, her breasts nodding. She licked her lips, ‘...mmm...I need some relief…yes Darius, yes! I’m just a...hot little...mmm...slut for you Darius, oh yes! A tight, hot, slutty girl! Yes...oh yes Darius, stroke my...oh yes Darius right there, oh Darius stroke my pussy yes yes ooh yes!’ Isabelle spread her legs wider, her hips thrusting to receive his thrusting fingers, her mouth and eyes wide open in rapture. She let out a high pitched squeal as the walls of her pussy clamped down on his fingers, her body shaking as she came. Her pussy was a beacon of delight, and as her mind surrendered to the sparks of pleasure, a warm orgasm spread from her pussy and breasts, washing over her lust-addled mind, sending tingles down her long legs and feet encased in silk, to her fingers, now rubbing lazy circles around her areolas. She was lost to the throes of passion, and she slipped off the table, kept upright by the strength of her wobbling legs and Darius’ hand, cupping her pubis. Loose threads of hair gently tickled her nipples, and she opened her eyes, beaming at Darius. Her breath slowed, and she lifted herself back up onto the table.

‘Ooh...I’m leaking.’ was all her horny brain, submerged in pleasure, could manage. Darius brought up his fingers to her mouth, and she opened her rosy lips and sucked. A tangy but sweet flavour greeted her taste buds, and she ran her tongue all along his digits to receive every sticky drop.

She is so fucking hot Darius thought, running his free hand through her hair. Perhaps I should just take her right now...But Darius resisted his urges. By the end of the day she would be wetter than ever, and then the real fun would begin. Besides, this wasn’t just about him. This was about power. He could fuck her later, but for the time being he was more than happy to relish in her degradation and lustful submission. He could deflower her later. Still though, Darius admitted to himself, it would be fun.

His fun little cum-slave was lying back on the table in a puddle of her own juices, her breasts pointing skyward and jiggling with every deep breath she took. They looked so firm from this angle. She slowly traced her finger around her clit as she bathed in her post-orgasm rapture. His dick was throbbing, his erection making an indent against the front of his trousers. No matter how hard he tried, his primitive desire threatened to overwhelm any pettiness he still held. Soon... he reminded himself.

‘Darius, that was...wonderful’ she mumbled dreamily. ‘You were right. I’m just your hot little slut. Only a slut could feel this good...Mmmm Darius…’ and she once against began mumbling little cooes and moans of pleasure incoherently.

Darius walked over to her, and she looked up at him with her big eyes, her loving gaze and satisfied smile making his heart, and erection, throb. He had in his hand her stained panties. She shut her eyes, giggling. ‘Mmm Darius, I need those back...I don’t have another, mmm, pair.’ She stretched out her hand, waving it about, trying to catch her underwear.

‘Actually Isabelle - I was thinking. To fit your new identity as a horny, hormone-riddled young teen slut, it would only be right that you wouldn’t wear panties anymore. Can you imagine? How would you be able to bend over or sit down without giving everyone a flash of your gorgeous pussy?’ He chuckled.

Isabelle sighed deeply, and giggled once again. ‘Oh God, imagine my horny little pussy on fire underneath my skirt! It would be torture! Mmm, and I would have to be extra careful not to give little peaks of my pussy. Yes, you’re right, it’s a silly idea. Please Darius...give me my panties…’

Darius sighed, then grimaced. ‘Isabelle these are no good. They’re totally wet. And I don’t think you need them. Let’s make a compromise. You’ll get your panties back...at the end of the day. Does that sound fair?’

Isabelle opened her eyes and looked straight at him. ‘But Darius, I can’t...well that’s just…’ But then she thought about it, ‘Mmm, but what if someone saw…’ and the thought made her feel so hot...Isabelle’s eyes floated shut again, and she whimpered. Her arousal was stirring again, turning her thoughts to mush…

‘Ok Isabelle. I was wrong. Have them.’ He held her panties over her nose and she breathed in her delicious musk, and shuddered.

‘Noooooo…’ she moaned, quivering. Her thighs pressed together, rubbing her bare pussy lips together. ‘I...oooh...I don’t want them.’

‘Seriously? What if someone sees your pink little lips?’

Isabelle mewled, and writhed on the table. ‘Mmmm yes…’

Darius couldn’t help but chuckle. She really was a little sex kitten, entirely subject to his whim. He tucked her panties into his pocket, and looked at his watch.

‘Just to let you know, the bell went 5 minutes ago. I don’t want to be any more late, so I’m heading off.’

Isabelle sat up instantly, the old part of her, terrified of a harsh punishment from her teachers, zapping her into action. ‘Bye Darius’ she said as if the words were coated in sugar, then flashed him a coy smile.

He grinned back, unlocked the door, and left.

What a wonderful guy... she thought hazily, as she watched him creep out of view, her mind, and her body, content.