Revenge by my Student
I never imagined my life as a strict Indian teacher in a bustling Mumbai college would unravel like this. At 35, married to a loving but distant husband, I, Priya Sharma, commanded respect in the classroom. My sharp tongue and firm hand kept students in line—especially Rahul, a lazy 20-year-old engineering dropout I'd tutored privately. I'd slapped his cheek more than once for skipping studies, his insolent eyes always lingering too long on my curves beneath my modest salwar kameez. Little did I know, those slaps would come back to haunt me.
It started innocently enough. Rahul's family had invited me over for a session at their home. Exhausted after a long day, I used their bathroom to freshen up. Unaware of the hidenn comera he'd planted, I hiked up my saree, pulled down my panties, and squatted to pee. The stream hissed out, my clean-shaven pussy exposed in the dim light, my face flushed from the relief. I adjusted my petticoat and left, none the wiser.
The next day, Rahul cornered me after class, his smirk sending a chill down my spine. 'Ma'am, look at this,' he said, shoving his phone under my nose. The video played: me, vulnerable and bare, peeing like an animal. My heart stopped. 'Delete it now, you bastard!' I hissed, glancing around the empty corridor.
'Not so fast, Priya ma'am,' he replied, his voice dripping with mockery. 'Remember all those slaps for my 'poor studies'? Time to pay up. Do what I say, or this goes to your husband, the principal, and every student in college.' My mind raced—my marriage, my reputation, everything at stake. 'What do you want?' I whispered, voice trembling.
'First, no bra or panties today. Come to the college park after hours, dressed like the slut you are under that teacher facade.' Humiliation burned in my chest, but fear won. I obeyed, slipping into my white blouse and black skirt without underwear. The fabric clung to my full breasts, nipples poking through as the AC hummed in the staff room. Between my thighs, my pussy felt exposed, the air teasing my folds with every step.
In the park, shadows lengthening, Rahul waited on a bench. 'Lift your skirt, ma'am. Show me what you've been hiding.' My hands shook as I bunched the fabric up, revealing my naked pussy, lips already swelling from the illicit thrill. He laughed, zooming in with his phone. 'Spread your legs. Let me see that teacher cunt drip.' I parted my thighs, cool evening breeze kissing my clit, arousal betraying me as moisture gathered.
'Good girl. Now, walk around the park like that—no covering up. Joggers might see.' Panic surged, but his threat loomed. I minced along the path, skirt hiked, pussy flashing with each stride. A group of students laughed nearby, oblivious, but the risk made my core throb. My juices slicked my inner thighs, nipples hard peaks against my blouse. Rahul followed, directing: 'Flash your tits too. Unbutton and let them bounce.' I did, heavy breasts spilling out, dark nipples erect in the open air. Humiliation flooded me, yet my pussy clenched, aching for touch.
He wasn't done. 'Back to my place, ma'am. Time for real punishment.' Dread and a twisted excitement warred inside as I followed him home, undergarments forgotten in my bag. In his room, door locked, he shoved me onto the bed. 'Strip, teacher slut. Show me the body you've teased me with for years.' Tears pricked my eyes, but I peeled off my clothes, standing nude before him—curvy hips, full ass, trimmed bush framing my wet slit.
Rahul stripped too, his young cock springing free, thick and veined, already leaking pre-cum. 'On your knees. Suck it like you mean it, or the video spreads.' I knelt, mouth watering despite myself, and wrapped my lips around his shaft. He groaned, thrusting deep, gagging me as saliva dripped down my chin. 'That's right, ma'am. Choke on your student's dick. All those slaps? This is revenge.' He grabbed my hair, fucking my face roughly, balls slapping my chin.
Pulling out, he slapped my cheek—hard, the sting echoing those classroom moments. 'Remember this feeling? Now it's my turn.' Another slap, then he bent me over the bed, ass up. 'Spread your cheeks, show me that tight asshole.' I did, fingers trembling, exposing my puckered hole and dripping pussy. He spat on my slit, rubbing his cockhead against it. 'Beg for it, Priya. Beg your student to fuck you.'
'Please... fuck me,' I whimpered, shame twisting with need.
'Louder! Say, 'Fuck your teacher's whore pussy, Rahul.''
'Fuck your teacher's whore pussy, Rahul!' I cried, voice breaking. He slammed in, stretching my walls with his girth. I gasped, body arching as he pounded deep, hips slapping my ass. 'You're so wet, ma'am. Loving your student's cock, huh? Slut teacher getting railed.' Each thrust humiliated me further, my moans betraying my arousal.
Mid-fuck, he flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists. 'Look at me while I slap you.' His hand cracked across my face—left, right—mirroring the slaps I'd given him. 'This for ignoring my homework!' Slap. 'This for calling me lazy!' Slap. My cheeks burned, tears streaming, but my pussy squeezed his cock tighter, orgasm building from the degradation. 'Cry all you want, ma'am. You're mine now.'
He slapped my tits next, watching them jiggle, nipples throbbing. 'These slapped my face in your mind? Now they take it.' Then he leaned down, biting my neck, marking me as he rutted harder. 'Cum for me, you humiliated bitch. Show how much you love being student-fucked.' The slaps, the thrusts, the revenge—it shattered me. My body convulsed, pussy gushing around him as I screamed, waves of unwonted pleasure crashing.
Rahul didn't stop, flipping me to ride him reverse. 'Bounce on that cock, teacher. Milk me like a good slut.' I did, ass grinding down, his hands spanking my cheeks red. 'Tell me you're sorry for the slaps.'
'I'm sorry... for slapping you,' I sobbed, even as my hips rolled, chasing aftershocks.
'Not enough. Say you'll be my fucktoy from now on.' Another face slap, then he pinched my clit, making me yelp.
'I'll be your fucktoy!' The words sealed my submission. He growled, thrusting up brutally, filling me until he exploded—hot cum flooding my pussy, spilling out as he slapped my ass one last time.
Panting, he pulled out, cum dripping from my stretched hole. 'Clean it up, ma'am. Lick your student's cock clean.' On my knees again, I sucked him dry, tasting our mixed juices, utterly broken and aroused.
As he deleted the video—or so he claimed—Rahul grinned. 'This is just the start. Next time, we'll do it in the classroom. Your slaps made me hate you... now they make me own you.' I dressed in silence, body marked with slaps and bites, pussy sore and leaking. Walking home, the humiliation lingered, but so did the dark hunger. My student had turned the tables, and deep down, I craved the next revenge.
It started innocently enough. Rahul's family had invited me over for a session at their home. Exhausted after a long day, I used their bathroom to freshen up. Unaware of the hidenn comera he'd planted, I hiked up my saree, pulled down my panties, and squatted to pee. The stream hissed out, my clean-shaven pussy exposed in the dim light, my face flushed from the relief. I adjusted my petticoat and left, none the wiser.
The next day, Rahul cornered me after class, his smirk sending a chill down my spine. 'Ma'am, look at this,' he said, shoving his phone under my nose. The video played: me, vulnerable and bare, peeing like an animal. My heart stopped. 'Delete it now, you bastard!' I hissed, glancing around the empty corridor.
'Not so fast, Priya ma'am,' he replied, his voice dripping with mockery. 'Remember all those slaps for my 'poor studies'? Time to pay up. Do what I say, or this goes to your husband, the principal, and every student in college.' My mind raced—my marriage, my reputation, everything at stake. 'What do you want?' I whispered, voice trembling.
'First, no bra or panties today. Come to the college park after hours, dressed like the slut you are under that teacher facade.' Humiliation burned in my chest, but fear won. I obeyed, slipping into my white blouse and black skirt without underwear. The fabric clung to my full breasts, nipples poking through as the AC hummed in the staff room. Between my thighs, my pussy felt exposed, the air teasing my folds with every step.
In the park, shadows lengthening, Rahul waited on a bench. 'Lift your skirt, ma'am. Show me what you've been hiding.' My hands shook as I bunched the fabric up, revealing my naked pussy, lips already swelling from the illicit thrill. He laughed, zooming in with his phone. 'Spread your legs. Let me see that teacher cunt drip.' I parted my thighs, cool evening breeze kissing my clit, arousal betraying me as moisture gathered.
'Good girl. Now, walk around the park like that—no covering up. Joggers might see.' Panic surged, but his threat loomed. I minced along the path, skirt hiked, pussy flashing with each stride. A group of students laughed nearby, oblivious, but the risk made my core throb. My juices slicked my inner thighs, nipples hard peaks against my blouse. Rahul followed, directing: 'Flash your tits too. Unbutton and let them bounce.' I did, heavy breasts spilling out, dark nipples erect in the open air. Humiliation flooded me, yet my pussy clenched, aching for touch.
He wasn't done. 'Back to my place, ma'am. Time for real punishment.' Dread and a twisted excitement warred inside as I followed him home, undergarments forgotten in my bag. In his room, door locked, he shoved me onto the bed. 'Strip, teacher slut. Show me the body you've teased me with for years.' Tears pricked my eyes, but I peeled off my clothes, standing nude before him—curvy hips, full ass, trimmed bush framing my wet slit.
Rahul stripped too, his young cock springing free, thick and veined, already leaking pre-cum. 'On your knees. Suck it like you mean it, or the video spreads.' I knelt, mouth watering despite myself, and wrapped my lips around his shaft. He groaned, thrusting deep, gagging me as saliva dripped down my chin. 'That's right, ma'am. Choke on your student's dick. All those slaps? This is revenge.' He grabbed my hair, fucking my face roughly, balls slapping my chin.
Pulling out, he slapped my cheek—hard, the sting echoing those classroom moments. 'Remember this feeling? Now it's my turn.' Another slap, then he bent me over the bed, ass up. 'Spread your cheeks, show me that tight asshole.' I did, fingers trembling, exposing my puckered hole and dripping pussy. He spat on my slit, rubbing his cockhead against it. 'Beg for it, Priya. Beg your student to fuck you.'
'Please... fuck me,' I whimpered, shame twisting with need.
'Louder! Say, 'Fuck your teacher's whore pussy, Rahul.''
'Fuck your teacher's whore pussy, Rahul!' I cried, voice breaking. He slammed in, stretching my walls with his girth. I gasped, body arching as he pounded deep, hips slapping my ass. 'You're so wet, ma'am. Loving your student's cock, huh? Slut teacher getting railed.' Each thrust humiliated me further, my moans betraying my arousal.
Mid-fuck, he flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists. 'Look at me while I slap you.' His hand cracked across my face—left, right—mirroring the slaps I'd given him. 'This for ignoring my homework!' Slap. 'This for calling me lazy!' Slap. My cheeks burned, tears streaming, but my pussy squeezed his cock tighter, orgasm building from the degradation. 'Cry all you want, ma'am. You're mine now.'
He slapped my tits next, watching them jiggle, nipples throbbing. 'These slapped my face in your mind? Now they take it.' Then he leaned down, biting my neck, marking me as he rutted harder. 'Cum for me, you humiliated bitch. Show how much you love being student-fucked.' The slaps, the thrusts, the revenge—it shattered me. My body convulsed, pussy gushing around him as I screamed, waves of unwonted pleasure crashing.
Rahul didn't stop, flipping me to ride him reverse. 'Bounce on that cock, teacher. Milk me like a good slut.' I did, ass grinding down, his hands spanking my cheeks red. 'Tell me you're sorry for the slaps.'
'I'm sorry... for slapping you,' I sobbed, even as my hips rolled, chasing aftershocks.
'Not enough. Say you'll be my fucktoy from now on.' Another face slap, then he pinched my clit, making me yelp.
'I'll be your fucktoy!' The words sealed my submission. He growled, thrusting up brutally, filling me until he exploded—hot cum flooding my pussy, spilling out as he slapped my ass one last time.
Panting, he pulled out, cum dripping from my stretched hole. 'Clean it up, ma'am. Lick your student's cock clean.' On my knees again, I sucked him dry, tasting our mixed juices, utterly broken and aroused.
As he deleted the video—or so he claimed—Rahul grinned. 'This is just the start. Next time, we'll do it in the classroom. Your slaps made me hate you... now they make me own you.' I dressed in silence, body marked with slaps and bites, pussy sore and leaking. Walking home, the humiliation lingered, but so did the dark hunger. My student had turned the tables, and deep down, I craved the next revenge.
2ヶ月前
