To her dismay, the evening with her teacher was just starting.

 

"Congratulations, Lucy. Since you've been such a good girl, you deserve this.", he said, getting something from under his desk.

 

Her mouth still open on the dildo, she looked at him, perplexed, her saliva dripping along the fake cock, as he pushed a sleek ribbon-tied gift box toward her.

 

"Open it."

 

She put the toy aside and pulled the silk ribbon, opening the small case. Inside, black fabric gleamed in the room's muted light.

 

"Put it on."

 

She fixed her bra, stopped for a brief moment, wondering where her panties went and if she should get them but decided against it. He said... he ORDERED her to put it on, not to look under the desk for her underwear.

 

Besides, he was gifting her another piece of underwear, wasn't he?

 

No. The fabric was thicker than she expected. It felt remarkably premium, possessing the weight and texture of heavy silk crepe. Contrary to what she had guessed, it was a short black evening dress. Holding it in front of her, she saw the cut was very simple: a classic bodycon dress with a minimalist square neckline and thin spaghetti straps.

 

There was no zipper. So she gathered the material in her hands, stepped into it, and shimmied it up her body. Her teacher watched as she slid the fabric up too much, revealing her pussy, then  pulling down quickly to cover it. Finally, she hooked her fingers under the thin straps, lifting them onto her shoulders.

 

It was VERY form-fitting. In fact, it was a size or 2 too small. She had never worn a dress so short before, her snatch on the verge of being exposed even standing up. She felt her small backside, and deduced her ass was covered. Barely, but covered. But she couldn't walk, let alone sit without exposing herself.

 

"It's... a bit short.", she said tentatively.

 

"Nonsense. Remove your bra, it'll be less tight."

 

She got out of the straps and moved the square top down to unclasp her bra, turning her back to her teacher, hiding herself without thinking about it. Her teacher didn't press the matter, letting her have this little moment of modesty.

She turned back toward him, the dress back on, her bra on his desk. The unyielding square neck pulled tight across her chest, unmistakably flat as an ironing board. In the middle of the black sheet stretched across her sternum, two little bumps were trying to push through.

Her nipples were the reason she never went out without a bra. However, the fabric was thick enough to hide them. A bit.

 

"Put your heels on", he ordered.

 

Lucy moved back toward the middle of the room where she had left her shoes and, as she feared, the ultra-fitted sheath was far too short, eager to ride up above her hips and expose her pussy at each step unless she tugged on it.

Squatting to buckle her shoes was another problem and she failed, exposing her white ass to her teacher's gaze as if she was getting ready to piss in his office.

Finally, she managed to secure the heeled platform sandals on her feet and stood up, her legs longer and more slender than ever. The tight clothe was also emphasizing her thin waist.

 

"Very nice.", he stated appreciatively. She looked like a cheap young escort.

 

"Take your bag. Go wait at the elevator.", he ordered.

 

She gathered her stuff (except for the panties she was told to leave behind) and exited the room.

Leading to Kessler's office was a corridor flanked by a stock room on one side and a utility room on the other, before opening into a space with two or three desks for the department's staff. Everybody had long gone home, the administrative crew was never one to suffer from an excess of zeal. Her heels clacked on the hard tiles, echoing loudly in the silence as she paced forward in the darkened room, using both hands to keep her extremely short dress from riding up to expose her bare pussy and ass.

 

She opened the door leading out and froze. In front of her, waiting for the elevator, was an older Mexican woman pushing a cleaning cart. The woman turned her head toward Lucy, and the moment she understood what she was wearing, her neutral expression twisted into something terrifying. Her dark eyes made Lucy shiver: a look of pure, unadulterated disgust and hatred.

Lucy's heart sped up. She felt caught, naked under a dress far too short for her.

For a split second, she wondered what the correct play was here. Should she scream for help? No, it was ridiculous, she was clearly not in distress. Instead, Lucy knew she looked guilty of something. Could she try to justify herself? But how?

Without a doubt, the older lady was judging her as just another shameless tramp willing to trade her dignity for better grades, trying to seduce her teacher dressed like a streetwalker. And Lucy realized it wasn't far from the truth. Yes, she was coming back from her teacher's office. Yes, she was dressed like a total slut. However, it was only because she had a special relationship with this powerful man.

 

To her own surprise, Lucy didn't crumble under the judgmental gaze. The secret was out in the open, but it didn't hurt the way it should have. Instead of crushing her, it sparked a strange, growing sense of defiance. The hateful stare of the cleaning lady was reframed: in Lucy's head, this cleaning lady, so far beneath her in the social hierarchy, was obviously jealous of her. It wasn't disgust: it was envy.

 

The elevator reached their floor with a soft chime and swallowed the older woman and her cart.

Just before the doors slid shut she muttered something Lucy didn't quite get: "Sinvergüenza".

 

The student stood there, smiling, curiously proud of herself. She had held her ground.

 

Her teacher arrived shortly after. He didn't know about the interaction she just had and somehow, that only made it better in Lucy's eye: it was like acing a test nobody knew she was taking. She had been a good girl.

 

As he led her toward his parking lot, she tottered behind him, still gripping the hem of her dress, with the impossible hope of stretching the garment to an acceptable length. Her bare ass was distractedly chafing gently against the fabric the whole way. Finally, they arrived at his car. She sat inside, legs parted wide by reflex, her snatch completely on display for a brief second before she covered it with her hands. She hadn't reached this level of unprompted lewdness with him yet. She would have move her hands away, if he asked, but she wasn't going to volunteer. 

 

He sat in the driver's seat and started the car. The car glided across campus, her open thighs regularly illuminated by the pathway lights as a few students strolled late into the night. If they had glanced in the car at just the right moment, they would have seen the girl with her hands between her naked open legs, but thankfully they didn't.

 

Lucy didn't dare to move, didn't dare to breathe. She wanted to be invisible, to disappear into the leather.

Still, she managed to ask: "...where are we going?"

 

"To celebrate your good grade, of course.", he answered while keeping his stern gaze fixed on the road. Then, he looked at her to add: "Don't worry. I'm just taking you to have a drink. You'll be back home before midnight. No funny business."

 

She nodded. She had to trust him.

 

He glanced at her again and asked:

"Have you ever exposed yourself like this in a car before?"

 

Lucy tried to remember. She vaguely remembered being butt naked, playing with her precious Hitachi wand near Sarah. Or had it been a dream? Her fingers jerked between her legs. She remembered she couldn't lie:

"Yes."

 

He was looking at the road again.

 

"Good girl. Why did you do that?

-Because... Because I'm a slut."

 

This time, she believed it. Riding in a car butt naked was embarrassing enough, and on top of that she used a toy to masturbate? In public? Really? Her fingers twitched again, rubbing against her pussy. It felt kind of good this time.

 

"Very good girl.", he said. "Tell me, what other slutty things did you do?"

 

She tried to think. He had everything on her now, didn't he?

 

"N-nothing."

 

He scoffed.

"Don't you watch porn?"

 

Lucy panicked. Yes. She did. Of course she did. It was so obvious she didn't even think about it.

 

"Uh... yes.

-When was the last time you watched porn?

-This morning."

 

It was one of the most ingrained habits she got from Sarah. She usually watched porn before sleeping and as soon as she woke up.

 

"Oh? Did you watch it in class?

-No. In my bed.

-I see. You never watched it in public?"

 

The faint memory of herself in Sarah's car came back. She confessed: yes, she had watched porn in public.

 

He nodded as if he'd always known and told her:

"Don't restrain yourself on my account. Go on then. Sound on, I'd like to evaluate your taste."

 

Lucy got her phone out and it showed it had been recording this whole time. She had forgotten about it. What did she have against Kessler, though? She couldn’t remember catching anything incriminating that wouldn't also incriminate her, so she decided to stop the recording and opened a website Sarah had sent her. She clicked on the first video, a random blonde getting rammed from behind, her gigantic jugs swaying under her. She was just watching it to humor her teacher, she tried to tell herself. But her fingers were already moving on their own. Soon, she was transfixed by the filth that was playing on the screen, pleasuring herself as discreetly as she could, and failing.

 

She regained her senses as the German sedan rolled into a courtyard. She stopped touching herself to look around her, her fingers sticky and slimy with her pussy juice. They were near a private club.

 

"Put this back on.", said Kessler, handing her back her panties. He had brought them with him from his office.

 

She slid the lingerie under her dress, grateful, under his watchful eye. However, at the prospect of opening the door and getting out, panic struck.

 

"C-can I also put on my bra now?", she asked, reaching for her bag.

 

"No."

 

Tears welled up in her eyes. She realized he wanted her to go out like that, without any padding, for everyone to see how flat her chest really was. This "celebration" was yet another sick way to humiliate her. She could already see his cold blue eyes detailing her reaction as people mocked and teased her about her lack of breasts.

She couldn't take it anymore. Out of control, she started to wail loudly in the car. He tried to speak, but at this point she was really bawling, crying her eyes out, incapable of listening. Why couldn't she have one normal evening?! Why did he buy her nice clothes but still want to point out her shortcomings, her flaws, to the world?!

It didn't even occur to her how her self-worth had been completely rewritten, that a few months ago being flat chested was just a small, unimportant part of what she was, and not a monstrous deformity that needed to be hidden at all costs.

 

"Alright, alright. You can wear your bra."

 

Instantly, the crying stopped. She quickly took her bra out of her bag before he could change his mind. Shrouded by the dark interior of the car, she peeled down the top of her dress and hurriedly clipped the lacy piece into place and added socks for padding. The entire process took less than ten seconds. She wanted to make a point, the point being that she COULD make his life difficult and it would be a lot easier if he listened to her.

He opened his door and walked around the car to get to her side. During this brief moment, as she observed him walk in front, she savored her little victory. This terrible man had said "no", but she managed to make him change his mind, to make him listen to her needs. A hazy, scrambled question crossed her mind: what else could she get from him? Until now, she had been the one who submitted to his dark desires, but could she turn the tables? Could she make him fall for her, bend his will?

 

But there was no time to think further, as he was already opening her door. Dread settled in, the new ambitions vanished.

She swung a leg out, her panties predictably flashing once again.

The gravel crunched under her blocky heels. She lunged for his arm, desperate for an anchor as she hauled herself out. The brisk air rushed against her legs. On the right, looming over an ancient building, a sign glowed red in the night: "The Revue Room".

She tottered after her teacher, gripping his forearm, her other hand yanking desperately at the hem of her dress in a vain struggle to keep it from riding up.

They arrived in front of a dark door where an impassive mountain of a man stood watching them. Lucy blushed, shy under his gaze, wondering how stupid (or slutty) he thought she was to wear a dress that was visibly too small for her.

"Good evening Mr Kessler. A table for two?", he asked in a curiously high pitched voice.

"Yes, thank you Jack. Good evening.", answered her teacher.

 

The man glanced toward her.

"ID for your guest?"

 

"She's twenty.", Kessler answered simply.

 

The doorman looked at her more closely. Lucy almost felt the stare like a touch, darting up and down her body, evaluating her silently. She stayed still, hoping to pass this stranger's examination to get into a place she didn't even really want to go, wondering if he could see she was using padding. The man, apparently satisfied, produced a neon yellow band that said "UNDER 21 // NO ALCOHOL" and held it open, inviting Lucy to put her wrist forward. She didn't want to let go of her teacher so decided to give the doorman the hand that was pulling the hem of her dress down. Instantly, her red panties flashed into view. The man didn't look, focusing on securing the bracelet. When it was done, she immediately lowered her hand to resume the battle with her dress.

 

Jack let them in. The decorated walls, the delicate lighting, the antique furniture... made Lucy feel like she was entering a private, hidden club, the kind of club where rich people would have secret sex parties. But that was only because of her naivety and lack of nightlife experiences. In reality, they were in a perfectly ordinary burlesque supper club. People came here to relax in the cozy atmosphere, watch relatively tame performances, eat, and drink.

 

They moved toward a booth that her teacher seemed to know well. As she slid in, her micro-dress finally won the war. The banquette was low, the table set far back, leaving Lucy totally exposed, her red panties directly in contact with the fake leather. She moved her hands strategically: one shielding the front from her tormentor, the other guarding the side from a hypothetical passerby, like a waiter.

 

"Stop squirming. Sit properly", he admonished her while typing on his phone.

 

"But my dress...", she tentatively protested, before he cut her off:

 

"Lucy, I brought you here because you were a good girl and I expect you to continue to behave appropriately.", he said, lowering his device. "Do you understand?"

 

She nodded. She understood she had to endure wearing the clothes he had chosen for her. But she was wrong, that was not what he was saying.

 

He explained further:

"I expect you to continue speaking properly. Whatever you say tonight, you must speak correctly. Do you understand? Answer me."

 

"Like, yes, I like, understand daddy.", she forced herself to answer an octave higher.

 

"Good. So, now, what were you trying to say?"

 

"Like, my dress is, like, too short."

 

"Yes. And why are you dressed like that?"

 

"Because, like, you asked me."

 

He shook his head.

 

"You know better. Tell me the real reason."

 

"Because I'm, like, a stupid... slut?"

 

"That's right! Good girl!"

 

A very faint feeling of pride rose up in her. She hated it.

 

He continued:

"But you can do better. Now tell me, what words should you use when you speak?" He saw her confused face and added: "Give me a few examples."

 

"Like... There's... like....", she answered.

 

"Yes. You love this word. But there are others. What are they?"

 

She frowned, trying to remember the filler words Sarah had given her.

 

"Oh my god... Totally...and... uh... So?", she answered, giving him an interrogative look.

 

"That's right! Any more?", he encouraged her.

 

"Whatever... seriously... you know?" she added, before blanking out.

 

"Good. Now try again."

 

Try again what? she wondered, looking at him puzzled. She felt very stupid. Then, she understood what she was supposed to say.

 

"Oh, my god, daddy! My dress is, like, totally short!", she sang out rhythmically.

 

He repressed a laugh and quickly complimented her:

"That's it, a lot better. There is something missing though, do you know what it is?"

 

What the fuck. What could it be. Did men really like that? Did they want their partner to act like a brainless bimbo?, she thought.

Anyway, she genuinely didn't know what was missing and would have to ask him. She took it as an opportunity to practice:

"Like, oh em gee, I don't know daddy."

 

She thought she sounded so retarded.

 

"Every sentence should sound like a question. Try this last one again."

 

"Like, oh em gee, I don't know daddy?", she repeated, forcing an uptalk beat.

 

It sounded somehow even more stupid to her ears.

 

"Good. Now the previous one?"

 

She took a deep breath and tried: "Oh my god daddy!? Like, my dress is like, sooo short?"

 

He smiled widely. That was the first time she'd seen him smile. She made him happy. The (despised) pride rose again in Lucy's heart.

 

"Almost perfect! It's just missing one little thing."

 

What could it be? she wondered, frowning again, genuinely thinking about it. Ah, yes!

She giggled.

 

"Oh my god, daddy!?", she giggled again, "Like, my dress is like, sooo short?", she said, before adding another giggle for good measure.

 

This time, he clapped his hands with an appreciative look on his face.

 

"Even better, very close to perfection. You don't have to add "daddy" every sentence.  And there's one another thing that could improve it further but it's tad harder, we'll keep it for later."

 

She nodded. Who would have thought roleplaying a dumb valley girl would be this hard?

 

"To answer you: your dress is fine. Nobody here will care if you show a bit of skin. Actually, people will like it more. So stop squirming."

 

She removed the hand protecting her side from view but didn't know what to do with it. He noticed and gave her another instruction:

"Try to play with a strand of hair."

 

She twirled a strand of her blonde bangs around her finger.

 

"Very sexy. You'll keep this proper attitude in front of the waiter, do you understand?"

 

She rolled her eyes, giggled, and said, still toying with her hair: "Like, of couuurse, totally, daddy."

It was too much, it was ridiculous, but, as long as he didn't ask her to speak like that in school, she was ok to indulge this little fantasy.

 

"Good girl. I will order for you but I want you to ask the waiter two things. First, ask him if he likes your dress. Second, give him a compliment. Can you do that?"

 

"I... like, I will t... totally try?"

 

"What would you try?"

 

"Like, the thingy you asked me daddy." The word "thingy" came naturally to her. She didn't even notice it.

 

"Repeat it to me.", he insisted.

 

She giggled and said, playing with her hair: "Like, I will totally ask him if he, like, like my dress you know? And then, oh my god, like, I will, like, sooo compliment him?"

 

"Exactly.", he confirmed, satisfied.

 

The waiter arrived shortly after, a fit man in his mid-twenties.

"What can I get you tonight?", he asked, as his eyes lingered on the red panties her single hand was failing to hide. His gaze moved up to Lucy's face, for a brief eye contact he couldn't sustain. He turned toward Kessler, who ordered a virgin cocktail for her and placed his own order.

 

"Anything else?"

Kessler motioned toward her with his head.

 

Lucy and the server's eyes met again. This was her cue, she knew, and her heart pounded fast in her chest. But she couldn't do it. It was easy to do it in front of Kessler or Sarah, because they knew she was pretending. She could also do it on stream, maybe because she felt protected by the screen, and because she was clearly playing a character. But here, in real life, with a stranger, the persona wouldn't come out. Instead, a giggle naturally flew out of her, just like she had learned to do every time she was stumped. She looked vacant, stupid, and the hair twirling motion worked well to make her look even more brainless.

Sarah would have been very proud. Even though Lucy didn't manage to summon her valley-girl persona and ask the questions, her default response, her natural, go-to safe instinct, was one of an extremely ditzy girl.

 

The waiter had a slight smile and turned back to Kessler, who dismissed him.

Lucy kept her head down. She didn't dare to meet her teacher's eyes. Her hands were shaking. She couldn't stay here.

 

"Like... can I like... go to the bathroom?", she asked, still using the voice.

 

He authorized it and she quickly tottered away from the table, holding the front and the back of her hem as if she were naked.

 

The venue wasn't huge, but she still had to ask someone for directions. Another waiter, looking a bit younger than the last, was walking away from a table. She wobbled her way toward him and asked:

"Like, can you tell me where is like the bathroooom?"

 

Shit, she thought, as she realized she didn't even have to use the voice since Kessler wasn't listening to her.

 

The young man's eyes widened at the sight of this very feminine, leggy blonde trying to cover herself. He pointed away, his eyes glued to her thighs and muttered something.

She thanked him, trying to force back her normal voice, and went to lock herself in a stall. She just needed to relax. And she knew how.

Buried deep in the left sock was a little hidden treasure: a ziplock bag with the three pills left from what Leena had given her.

Two white ones and one pink. The pink one was out of the question, she knew how strong it was. That only left the white ones. Yes, she remembered, Leena clearly had warned her to take only one white at a time, but, the anxiety was obviously coming back, and, besides, two hours had passed since the last dose.

She decided to cut one in half.

She lowered her top, exposing her bra, and got the pouch out of the sock. The pill wasn't the kind you could cut easily, and it was quite small, so she bit it, trying to eat only half. The bitter taste alone was enough to calm her. She swallowed, eyes closed, trying to enjoy the sensation.

But when she looked at what was left between her fingers, she had a scare. There was almost nothing, just a little white crumb, certainly not half of it. So, in a very stupid logical leap, she decided the correct course of action would be to finish it. She licked her fingers clean, satisfied, and hid the remaining two pills back in her bra.

Since she was there, she peed, then went toward the mirror to fix her appearance.

The mirror cut her off at the waist, so she couldn't really see how exposed her crotch was. In any case, her upper half looked decent. The dress screamed high quality, and she loved how her hair and makeup had held up. However, looking closely at her reflection, she wished she had time for a touch-up. For a glamorous night like this, she ideally would have needed a bit more.

 

She washed her hands and got out with a fresh surge of confidence. Walking slower, she discovered she could simply anchor the hem of her micro-dress on one side to keep it from rising up too much.

 

As she approached, she noticed two people were sitting with her teacher. A man around his age and a buxom brunette. Friends of his? she wondered.

 

"Ah, here she is!", Kessler exclaimed as she slid back into her seat. He made introductions. They were also regulars here and seemed a bit eccentric. The man was in his late forties, small and bald, and radiated a highly animated, restless vitality, visibly amused by everything. His female companion towered over him, sporting an intricate hairdo and a low-cut dress that showcased her ample cleavage. She merely listened, wearing a look of pure smugness.

Soon, a third stranger joined them. He looked slightly younger, fitter, and as tall as Kessler. He was more of the silent type.

 

Lucy listened happily to the conversation, relaxing deeply as the soothing effects of the pill were starting to kick in.

Then, the topic switched to her.

 

"So, what do you do?", asked the small man.

She didn't really know what to answer so she giggled and took a deep breath before saying: 

"Like, I'm a student?"

 

"Oho! Are you Mr Kessler's student? What a naughty teacher he is!", said  the man, teasing his friend.

 

"Yes, she was in dire need of some private tutoring to correct her course. But she learned how to express herself better and earned a very good grade on her last paper. Didn't you?"

 

Lucy confirmed with another giggle.

 

"Ah, so you came to celebrate! Yes, that is a nice little place..." He proceeded to talk about the venue as Lucy was starting to doze off. Suddenly, he thrust his phone screen right in front of her face. "Look, it was promoter's night last week. They had a wet T-shirt contest!"

 

She was now looking at the social media page of the venue, where a plump woman was shaking her big tits on stage.  Then, the clip transitioned to a twerk contest, showing a line of female participants shaking their booties in sync.

 

"Maybe Lucy can participate next time.", the brunette said, her voice dripping with malice. It was the first time she had spoken to her. Clearly, she didn't like Lucy and was trying to take her down a peg.

 

"Yes, what do you think, Lucy?", Kessler chimed in, pushing the idea even further.

 

Lucy looked at the jiggly women on the screen, utterly disheartened. I could never do that, she thought bitterly. Because my breasts are  nonexistent, and my ass so small! I'm so flat compared to them...

No, no! She caught herself, pulling her thoughts back. Why am I even thinking that? I would NEVER want to participate in this kind of raunchy event!

 

Seeing her transfixed by the screen and incapable of answering, Kessler added: "Soon, you'll have the assets to win, won't you?"

 

Lucy giggled, again, embarassed.

 

"Really? Why?", probed the woman.

 

"Like, I'm like, getting... uh... totally bigger boobs?", she explained. There. It was announced. The fact that she was saying it out loud to a stranger made it a little bit more real, more engaging.

 

"Ooh, that's a good idea!", she exclaimed, thrusting her own chest forward to flaunt her massive cleavage. "You'll see, dear, it'll change your life."

 

Lucy looked at the big melons next to her, then at her own chest. Even padded, there wasn't much to look here.

 

Driven by a sudden instinct, she looked up. The quiet third man was staring directly between her legs. Without realizing it, she had left them uncrossed, shamelessly putting her underwear on display. Yet, she kept her thighs parted. She noticed she didn't feel any embarrassment. She wasn't as well-endowed as the other women, so, having this guy intensely  interested in her almost felt good.

 

The conversation drifted toward another topic. She couldn't really follow the thread of what they were saying anymore, but she liked it, just being here, in the comfortable seat, in such a warm place. She took a sip of her mocktail, the sugar delivering a delicious rush in her mouth, wishing she could drink alcohol like the people around her. Her wristband made her different, special.

 

At one point, the small man broke into her thoughts, teasing her with a grin: "Lucy, in any case, I absolutely adore your fashion sense!", he said, obviously speaking about her displayed panties.

 

She still had her legs open, perhaps even wider than before. Giggling softly, she moved a hand to cover down there. The conversation carried without her, fading into background noise. She pressed a finger more firmly into the underwear. The spark of pleasure encouraged her to continue. Again, and again, and again...

 

Soon, she was masturbating over her panties, in public, in a restaurant, no even hiding, eye half closed.

She opened them and locked eye with the quiet man, looking at her appreciatively. A slight smile of complicity appeared on her lips. She didn't stop, she was now performing for him, she loved being watched by him, she thought, as her eyes closed back again.

 

Kessler’s deep voice shattered her reverie. "Alright, I see Lucy is already keeping herself thoroughly entertained, so we'll leave you all to finish your drinks."

 

The two of them got up, and for a few seconds Lucy was standing in the venue, panties totally exposed, her micro-dress pulled to her waist. The two male friends weren't missing one second of the show. She liked it. It was so much easier, so much more fun to exhibit herself instead of hiding. They clearly liked what she was doing.

 

Kessler had to fix the hem of her dress and lead her outside.

She exited the club, passing Jack on her way out. She wished he could have seen her, looked at her, desired her like the two men before. On a sudden whim, she grabbed her hem and pulled up, exposing her backside encased in the red lace to the doorman. She kept it up while walkong, and turned to look at the man. His eyes were magnetically stuck to her ass. She giggled.

 

As soon as she got into the car, she removed the undergarment and her fingers dug in. With the other hand, she woke up her phone still sitting on the dashboard and played the most hardcore, degrading porn featuring big titted sluts she could quickly find.

 

----

 

Sarah's petite, fit body with those round enhanced breasts was driving the guy on the other end of the screen crazy.

"Hmmm, yes it feels so good oh baby...", she purred as she was fucking herself with a dildo.

The client grunted and, almost simultaneously, she heard the front door close.

 

She waited for him to disconnect, to send her a bit more tokens, and she exited the room, fully glamed up, with sparkly eye shadows, wearing only a thong.

 

"Lucy? Is that you?", she called out. She moved to the kitchen, her fake hard tits leading the way, to discover her tenant sitting eating some biscuit with one hand. She was a bit pissed off, because she had been worried about Lucy all day and now she didn't even bother to answer her when she was calling her!

 

Still, trying to be sympathetic she asked in a concerned voice:

"Hey. You okay?"

 

Lucy moved her head up from her phone and nodded. Sarah noticed she was wearing what was without a doubt yet another new gift from this teacher: a black, expansive looking mini-dress.

 

"How was it? Did you manage to get some proof?", she probed. The cold, silent demeanor of Lucy was really starting to bug Sarah off.

 

Lucy's forehead wrinkled in concentration, then she blankly stated:

 "I didn't"

 

...before returning to her phone.

 

It was too much for Sarah. She could feel her tenant escaping her control, this damn teacher having the upper hand somehow. So she finally exploded:

"What?! Why?!"

 

Lucy put the phone down before answering:

"Oh my god Sarah it's not that simple! You don't know how it was!"

 

Sarah backed off immediately:

"Yes, yes, sorry. What happened? How are you feeling?"

 

"I don't know.... He didn't do any more than the last time. He just touched me through the panties.", she explained, minimizing the truth without really knowing why.

 

"That's all?", asked Sarah, surprised.

 

"Yes that's all. Also, he took me drinking. And he knew about the cam." She ate one more biscuit.

 

Sarah already knew he was aware of Lucy's camwork, because she had tipped him her profile address along with the photo shots. Still, she tried her best to look surprised.

 

"How?!", she exclaimed, a bit too strongly.

 

"I don't know.", simply answered Lucy. She didn't want to talk anymore. Not to Sarah anyway. Sarah was definitely weird, she thought.

 

"What's next?", asked Sarah.

 

"He wants me to meet him Saturday. He also asked me to practice."

 

"Practice? Practice what?"

 

Lucy looked at her straight and answered matter-of-factly:

"Blowjobs."

 

"It's going too far girl.", decided Sarah.

 

"Got what I wanted though.", muttered Lucy.

 

"What do you mean? What did you get?  This dress?"

 

"Like, ninety-five on Business Ethics."

 

She would have preferred Kessler to grade the Corporate Finance paper first, but it was still a decent victory.

 

Sarah's heart sank. She wanted her tenant to fail and now she was acing her exams. Would this teacher get her out of the hole she was digging for her, she wondered. No. Succeeding in two classes wasn't going to be enough to save the semester, she reasoned.

 

The two girls stayed silent for a while, as Lucy finished the biscuits. Then Sarah broke the silence:

"Anyway. I'm glad you're okay. Do you need me to stay with you?", she proposed.

 

"No.", answered coldly Lucy. She just wanted to sleep, maybe debrief with Leena later, but not Sarah.

She got up to get her bag. Its leather was curiously deformed, with the outline of a thick cylinder, so big the bag couldn't even close properly.
When she bent to grab it, Sarah immediately saw she wasn't wearing any panties.

 

"D-did you go out like that?!", Sarah blurted out.

 

She got for only answer the sound of her tenant's bedroom door closing.

Sarah was puzzled by her tenant's attitude. It didn't feel like the Lucy she knew. She moved to the other side of the table and looked at the chair where Lucy had just been sitting in.

 

Right in the center of the seat was a glistening, wet smear. 

 

She pieced it together instantly: she had just interrupted her tenant masturbation session! The little slut had ridden the elevator half naked, porn playing on her phone, then sat here to casually continue masturbating while snacking quickly. Quickly because she was impatient to go in her bedroom, to do... to do...

Sarah rushed back to her own bedroom, fired up the cameras. Right now, as she had suspected, Lucy was masturbating. She could see her kneeling on the floor in front of her desk, her black micro-dress rolled up past her waist and the Hitachi Wand jammed hard between her white parted thighs. Porn was playing on her computer.

 

But something did surprise her: Lucy's head bobbing up and down an enormous suction cup dildo, held to the seat with her other hand, trying to get down on it without gagging. Sarah watched with rapt fascination. Lucy's eyes were red and watering, her eyeliner smearing, her forehead furrowed as she looked up at a silicone porn bimbo being thoroughly  facefucked on screen, while she herself tried to sink lower and lower on the gigantic plastic phallus. A wet, choking sound gurgled through Sarah's headphones as the plastic collided against the back of Lucy's throat. Her shoulders heaved, her stomach contracted violently in a retching cough as her body fought the intrusion. She moved back up, defeated, as strings of thick, clear saliva immediately dripped from her mouth.

And, she got down, to try again.

 

Sarah understood what was at play here. Her tenant was definitely becoming a nympho, a porn addict, a slut, and already that would have satisfied her. But it was more than that here.

By training herself how to deepthroat, Lucy was actually doing her homework. Homework for her future position in life.