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01 Temmuz 2022, 15:58
*Miss Spencer. I require your presence on Saturday at 2 pm on the 8th floor of the University Library in the Chemistry section. You are to take a seat at one of the study tables and keep yourself occupied playing with your delightful cunt. Dress appropriately to please. Under no circumstance are you to acknowledge my presence.That was how my week began; a typically terse email from my Mistress that revealed none of her intentions beyond driving me crazy with anticipation as I began to fantasize about our upcoming rendezvous. This time, however, I?d learned my lesson and, despite my desperate need to slowly tease myself to at least one climax, I kept my hands away from my pussy. It was going to be a very long week.By Wednesday, I was nearly at my wits' end. All I could think about was our meeting and her plans for me. Would she allow me to cum for her in the middle of the library? I?d never once dared her displeasure and visited the campus on which she?d taught, so I had no idea of how the library was laid out or how much traffic it got. Hopefully, very little on a Friday afternoon. Not that it mattered. I was already committed to my obsessive addiction. The merest hint of pleasing Mrs. Vandermeer enough to be allowed to cum for her was all it took. I knew it and, more importantly, she knew it.As a final rebellious act, I waited until after my parents had gone to bed and opened up the file filled with the photos Abby had sent me. Turning on my lap top camera I began recording myself opening them one at a time in chronological order while dressed only in a pair of lavender cotton panties and a matching bra.?Hello, Mrs. Vandermeer. I know that I?ve been denied cumming, and I?ve been a good girl, and haven?t,? I started out, already breathless, suddenly noticing how warm it was in my room despite my lack of clothing.?I want to so bad, though. I think of it all the time, you know.?Leaning back in my chair, I glanced at the small window in the top right corner that allowed me to see what the camera saw, smiling shyly at the sight. Right now, I looked incredibly sexy, my nipples tenting my bra, my chocolate brown hair in disarray, brown orbs staring back unbelievingly at me as I stroked my pussy through my panties. There was just enough light in the room to see the material slowly darken as I turned myself on. Impulsively, I pushed them into myself with one finger before raising it to my lips and sucking it into my mouth with a soft, yet passionate, moan.?I feel so dirty, tasting my own cunt. I hope you enjoy watching your,? I paused, feeling my heart pounding against my ribs as I realized what I was doing, or about to do.?Your dirty little fuck toy getting off looking at pictures of herself,? I whispered, my cheeks changing color as I clicked on the next photo she?d taken of me. ?And no, I promise not to disobey you and? cum, though I?ve wanted to ever since I left your house. Wanted to so bad that it?s all I can think about. ?Taking a deep breath, I set the photos on my lap to a slide almanbahis (http://almanaffiliates.com/) show, letting them play slowly out while I slipped my hand inside of my panties and started teasing my cunt, pressing my fingers into my slit, parting my fleshy lips I could feel my juices welling up and trickling over my sensitive taint. Leaning back, my eyes glued to the screen, I felt them dampen the star shaped pucker of my ass. Whimpering with need, I turned my attention to my clit, cupping my right tit as I rubbed gently against it, my thumb brushing repeatedly against my nipple until I couldn?t stand it anymore. With a tortured groan, I pulled my hand from my panties and held it close to the glass eye of the camera, pleased at how my own juices hung poised on my finger tips, dangling, swaying as my fingers trembled. The proof of my depravity.?I didn?t come, Mrs? Mistress. Oh, god, I want to so bad, put I didn?t. I hope this proves that I?m doing my best to be your obedient slut.?Giggling breathlessly, I made a show of licking my fingers clean before blowing her a kiss, my lips glazed with my own moisture, before ending the recording and saving it with the others, in my own secret file before sending a copy to Abby.I didn?t sleep well that night, regretting my impulsive actions, wishing I could undo them, wondering how she would react when she say my sordid homemade porn. Thankfully, she didn?t make me suffer until our appointed meeting on the 8 th floor. The very next evening, I received a reply in typical fashion.Miss Spencer. I am very pleased at your behavior so far. Please continue to keep it up and I will see to it that you are properly rewarded. That was all I needed to get through the rest of the week without going crazy. Her promise that it would, eventually, pay off.o-O-oShe?d told me to dress ?to please?. I took that to heart, spending Thursday evening laying out and discarding outfit after outfit until I settled on something that was both sexy, yet subtle. I knew Abby enjoyed treating me as a slut, but I also knew she expected me to take some pride in my appearance. My classes ended at 12:30 on Fridays, so I?d have to makes sure everything was ready to go when I got home. I?d have just enough time to hurry home, dress, and catch the bus to the University where Professor Vandermeer taught. I managed to grab a sandwich and a soda on the way out, but showering was out of the question, despite that I was in desperate need of one; thinking about what was to come had left me in a state of constant arousal until I began to worry that my schoolmates might take notice. Thankfully, no one seemed to or, if they did, didn?t embarrass me about it. Somehow, I made it through my last class of the day with Mrs. Morgan, fleeing even before the bell finished ringing and heading straight home.I spent as much time in front of the mirror as I dared, making sure I looked perfect for her, balanced between displeasing her with my appearance or my timeliness, my heart feeling fluttering out of control as I pressed almanbahis yeni giriş (http://almanaffiliates.com/) my red rouged lips together before dabbing at them with a tissue so that the girl staring back at me appeared sultry rather than slutty.Oh, how I wished I was brave enough to sit in the back of the bus and play with myself. The fantasy of finger fucking myself in secret was almost too much to resist. Still, I managed, although my panties were dripping wet by the time I pressed the elevator button and began my ascent. This time, I didn?t resist. I had the car to myself. Feeling wanton, I slipped my hand into the waist bands of my skirt and underwear and slowly rubbed my clit while leaning back against the rear wall, allowing myself to moan softly until the bell dinged, warning me that my destination was arriving. Smoothing out my skirt, I stepped out onto the, thankfully, seemingly deserted 8 th floor.I?d taken the time to do a little research during the week, already aware that Chemistry was to my right. A quick glance at my phone told me that I had arrived ten minutes early. I spent five of those minutes browsing through the shelves and pulling out a several books before rashly deciding that my panties would just get in the way. It took me very little time to wiggle out of them and stuff them into my purse before finally making my way to the study tables with several impressive looking tomes. Mrs. Vandermeer wouldn?t be pleased with me if I looked out of place.?Keep yourself occupied playing with your delightful cunt? had been her command. Sitting at the table, a small stack of books keeping me company, I pretended to read while, underneath the table?s surface, I carefully hiked the hem of my skirt up far enough that I had access to my naked pussy. Doing my best to keep calm, my breath slow and measured, I spread my legs just wide enough to slip my hand between them and began stroking myself while staring blankly at text.I?m not sure how long I sat there, alone, horny as hell at playing with my pussy in a public building when I heard the elevator door slide open. Frozen like a deer in headlights, I turned my head just enough to ascertain that it was my Mistress and not some stranger. Then, and only then, did I remember to breathe again, my attention seemingly once more on the book as I pleasured myself. The only sound, besides my increasingly ragged breath and her measured footsteps the only sounds in the room. I tried my best not to notice her, but my breath caught as she passed directly behind me and I heard her chuckle softly as she took a seat at the table closest to me, facing me, giving me a single glance before settling into place behind her laptop. I could only guess at what she was doing. Reading, perhaps, or grading papers, or, and this was a dangerous thought that forced me to slow down as I felt myself getting closer and closer to a forbidden orgasm; watching the video I?d foolishly sent her a few nights ago.I bit my lip a little harder than expected, trying to shake that thought almanbahis giriş (http://almanaffiliates.com/) from my head, a quick hiss of pain drawing her flickering perusal and, with it, a cruel smile. Then she simple went back to ignoring me.Trying to relax, I concentrated on my breathing as best I could, refusing to get carried away with the pleasure I was feeling. How long was she going to sit there, I wondered. How long was she going to let me suffer. I glanced up, transfixed to find her gaze on me, swallowing dryly as I watched her eyes lower until she?d be staring at my pussy if it weren?t blocked by the table.I wondered if she approved of my choices. I?d picked out a pale yellow gathered skirt that gave me easy access while falling modestly mid thigh; it drew attention to my narrow waist, thinking it made me look both girlish and sexy. On top I wore a steel blue v-neck sweater. Presently, all the buttons were still buttoned, otherwise she?d have a good look at my white lace bra (matching the panties stuffed in my purse), having chosen not to wear a blouse for our encounter. Although I?d have preferred wearing sneakers, I?d known she?d have frowned at the choice. Instead I?d gone with a pair of stylish sandals. I?d even taken time to paint my toenails read so they matched my fingernails and my lips. Mascara clung to my lashes making my eyes look mysterious, or so I hoped.I forced myself to look away. I wasn?t to acknowledge her presence. That had been made clear, although I am sure she knew how painfully aware I was of her.Eventually, she gathered her things and stood, never once saying a word. Frustrated, not daring to halt what I was doing (which was driving myself slowly past the brink of sanity) I continued to stroke my pussy as she headed towards the elevator, almost gasping with surprise when she detoured behind me and paused to comb her fingers through my hair as if I was a favorite pet which, I suppose, was fitting, considering our relationship.?Good girl,? she practically whispered the words, her voice slightly husky. ?I will be expecting you at our house tonight at 6 sharp. Mr. Vandermeer and I are going out and I am in need of your services as a babysitter. Please don?t be late.?I nodded, not trusting my voice, surprised when she ran the back of her knuckles gently along the side of my face, sending shivers through me.?And Miss Spencer. Come dressed exactly as you are now. I think you look lovely.?With that, she left abruptly, my thoughts tumbling about my head in confusion and hope, my heart hammering in my chest as I forced myself to pull my hand out from between my thighs, smooth my skirt over my legs and, eventually, pull myself together enough to go home, a quick glance at my phone telling me that I?d spent a little over an hour playing with myself in the University library. She couldn?t be so cruel as to deny me an orgasm tonight. Or could she? I wasn?t sure I wanted to dwell on the question but it was all I could think about for the next three hours.o-O-oI arrived at the Vandermeer?s at 6pm exactly as I?d been when she?d left; pantiless. I?m not sure if she?d known when she?d given me my instructions, but I wasn?t about to take that chance. Mr. Vandermeer greeted me with a friendly smile, still buttoning up his shirt.