Cordelia. I couldn’t even think my student’s name without feeling that breathless fluttering of thousands of butterfly wings in my tummy.

She was the most beautiful thing in the world, youthful, perfect, tempting, the whispering snake and the taboo apple that would seal my fall from grace. I was nothing more than a toy to her, appreciated for its novelty, hugged and caressed - before it would inevitably be picked apart and thrown away.

I knew it, I feared it, and yet I didn’t want to stop.

Cordelia had her own flat, almost as big as my house, a maisonette attached to her parent’s home. She even had her own entrance which lead into her spacey living room.

This was where I was kneeling, right in the middle, and the hem of my dress was bunched up in my hands to expose my soaked panties. The spotlights on the ceiling shone down on me like on a stage, and the hardwood floor was more than just uncomfortable on my knees, but I spared it no thought.

My eyes were riveted to the small patches of my lover’s delicious thighs that peaked out between her white dress and stockings, flashing me invitingly as she lounged on the couch and waited for her friend to return.

We had picked up Monica at the back entry of a fast food restaurant: Her classmate had been dolled up in a black miniskirt and a tight tee which both had the company’s logo everywhere. Both had been giddy and whispered to each other while I sat on the passenger seat, excited and dreadful what else the evening would bring. Each exuberant giggle of one of them had me wonder if Cordelia was sharing our gallery adventure. Each knowing grin had painted red highlights on my cheek.

We had gone straight to her flat, and she had pointed out the spot on the floor she had in mind for me, right in front of a plush, pink carpet. Her words still reverberated in my mind, an oxymoron of formality and kink.

“Do you know what would amuse me, Miss Wilkins?”

I had shaken my head, biting my lip like a shy teenager, not trusting my voice.

“If you would kneel right here and lift your skirt, so we can look at your soaked crotch.”

* * * * *

The soft jingling of a tiny bell drew my gaze towards the door at the other side of the room, and my breath hitched. Heat shot into my face, but what I saw was too fascinating to look away.

Monica entered the room on all fours, and she was completely naked save for a black headband that held up pink, furry cat ears, pink gloves, matching ankle sheaths, and - what had shocked me so - a long, thin and equally pink tail emerging between her buttocks. She had tiny, cone-shaped breasts and firm, rounded thighs and calves.

“Isn’t she a sweet little kitten?” Cordelia asked me, not waiting for an answer. “Come here, kitty-kitty!”

Monica ambled across the room, obviously used to crawling like this. Every movement made the tiny bell around her neck jingle. She looked at me for a second, her lips and eyelids bright pink, and she really appeared like a kitten with that playful, hungry gaze - so far from the shy little nerd that was my student.

She stopped in front of the couch and rubbed her cheek against Cordelia’s thigh, little purring sounds coming from her shiny lips. A white-gloved hand stroking through her hair rewarded her. Average little Monica, basking in my love’s radiance and with a look of absolute contentment on her face, suddenly looked pretty and adorable.

Cordelia slipped off one glove and held out the palm of her hand, and Monica started to lick it with quick, tiny strokes of her tongue. It was sensuous, far more so than the kinky setup had led me to expect, and I had to remind myself to keep holding up my skirt.

It was cute. That wasn’t a word I liked to use, because I tended to leave a shallow taste much too often, but this playful, loving interaction had all the lightheartedness and sensuality to be deserving of that term.

The bell jingled merrily. Monica’s bum wiggled, and her tail with it.

Cordelia giggled. My gaze followed her hand and watched her kitten friend’s antics, but I suddenly felt her eyes on me.

“Let’s give our teacher something to see. We don’t want her to get bored, kitty, do we? Would kitty like some honey?” Her eyes didn’t leave mine, and a wicked smirk danced over her lips.

Monica froze for a moment, but when she heard the last word, she mewled in tiny whimpers.

“Yes, I know how much you like it. Go on,” Cordelia told her and underlined her words with a playful swat to her kitten’s bum, “fetch it.”

Monica was out of the room like lightning, and Cordelia stood up from the couch. She ambled towards me, and my breaths grew short when she gripped the hem of her skirt and pulled the dress over her head with a swift, elegant motion.

“I read an interesting book lately,” she whispered while she folded it and put it onto a low board, “by an Austrian writer.”

Was she expecting an answer? “Yes?” I asked non-committally.

“Its name is ‘Venus in Furs’, do you know it?”

Hell, yes. Of course I did! “It’s a classic.”

“It’s got an interesting conclusion, even though I think the whole gender thing is a bit antiquated.”

She turned back to me and my breath hitched. “You’re so beautiful!” My heart fluttered with each word.

“You really have trouble focusing when you’re around me, don’t you?” She giggled.

God, how I had come to love her crystal voice, her carefree giggles and her throaty, quiet sighs of satisfaction. I blushed and nodded.

“Back to the topic. There’s an interesting thesis in that book.” She rolled down her right stocking, slowly and carefully, and my eyes drank in each new inch of soft skin that exposed.

“You’d like to kiss it. I can see it in your eyes. You want to coat every little patch of my skin with your icky saliva, don’t you?”

The stocking slipped from her foot and my eyes were drawn to her toes. The nails were painted in a shimmering, creamy white and reminded me of pearls. She wiggled them, perfectly aware of the feelings she could evoke in me with that small gesture.

“I’m afraid you’ll not get to do that tonight, though.” The other stocking slid downwards, and tan skin over lean, well-toned legs once more mesmerized my eyes. She pulled it free of her foot and gifted me with another wiggle of toes.

My stomach fluttered like mad when she knelt down in front of me. Her breasts, so full and inviting, hovered just inches from my mouth for a second, and the urge to bridge that tiny distance and wrap my lips around one of her pretty, rosy nipples was almost impossible to resist.

“It’s funny that Sacher-Masoch talks about education in his little summary, don’t you think? Do you know what I’m talking about?”

How could I not. I had read it more than once, ignoring the fact that the protagonist was male and envisioning myself in his place, seeing myself kneel at the beautiful woman’s feet. “Yes, I know it.” My voice was scratchy.

“She can only be…” she prompted me, quoting the narrator’s words, self-assured and a little condescending, switching the roles we played in class.

My lips moved without words for a second, but I finally managed to find my voice and continued, albeit shakily. “...his slave, or his despot,” I whispered, and dreaded to finish it, “but never his companion.”

“A despot. Isn’t that an interesting choice of word?”

I wasn’t sure if she expected me to answer, but it quickly became a moot point. Her fingers dexterously pushed the straps of my dress to the sides, and they slid over my shoulders. A gasp drew forth from my throat when the dress’ front slipped down and exposed my bra-covered breasts

“A true despot would be allowed to do anything with you. Like,” she giggled, “expose every part of your body to whomever she chooses to.”

Her fingers touched the top of my left breast and made me tremble with need. Small, pleasurable sparks exploded on its skin. I gasped.

She grinned wickedly. “Just like this.” She pushed down the bra cup and freed my tit of its confines, which was all too eager to spill over it.

“How lewd. Don’t you think so too, kitten?”

I hadn’t noticed Monica’s return; all my attention had been on my beloved. But my other student knelt right next to us and was following our interactions with wide, aroused eyes. My cheeks took on a crimson shade. She mewled.

“Touch?” Cordelia asked. “Of course you can touch it.”

And, just like this, she gave permission to cross another line, an invasion into my personal space that I had been dreading. My feelings all circled around Cordelia, and touching her, being touched by her, was what I wanted.

Kissing her foot in front of her friends had been embarrassing. Suckling on a stranger’s toes had been even more so. But now another of my students was about to touch me - no, too late for that thought - was touching me, and I knew I had to look into her eyes on Monday morning and pretend nothing was amiss. I tried my best to stay dispassionate, to no give into my body’s arousal.

Heated fingers tickled tentatively over my bared breast, ran small circles over my skin, and the wish to please my one love kept me in my place. I tried to appear unfazed, but my hesitance didn’t hold up for long. Monica knew what she was doing. Her fingernails trailed closer and closer to my nipple, and I could feel it tighten in anticipation.

Another mewl. A whispered, “Of course you may.”

The soft, wet lips around my nipple felt so sensual that a whimper escaped my throat. Teeth pinched my nipple and held it steadfast for the tongue that ran over it. I shivered with delight.

“Enough.”

I sighed in frustration. My nipple throbbed and yearned for her mouth to continue.

Instead, I had to watch Cordelia lie down on the pink carpet. Each motion was graceful, and when her back had settled down, she was the prettiest image of soft skin on pink you could imagine. Her hand picked up a small bottle. Honey!

She brought it over her breasts and squeezed softly. A small string of shimmering golden sweetness dripped down and onto her skin, and she painted tiny trails of honey in spirals over her beautiful breasts. Then she made a thin line downwards, circling her belly-button, until she finally reached her hairless, pretty, swollen plum, which she covered thickly with the golden nectar.

I whimpered, mesmerized by the view and desperate to worship her body by lapping up the sweetness that mixed with her juices.

Monica hissed at me, but Cordelia’s fingers stroked and tickled her head, and she settled back onto her knees and purred.

“Come on, kitten, show your mistress how much you love honey.” Her words were barely above a whisper.

God, it was so sensual.

Monica leaned over her mistress’ body and started to lap up the sugary lines, starting with her full, beautiful breasts. Her tongue trailed along the shimmering honey with quick, short, eager licks, and the small slurping sounds told me how much she enjoyed it.

Cordelia stretched her arms above her head and rewarded her kitten’s efforts with lovely little moans.

My own arousal spiked inexorably, and my pussy became one sticky, moist spot of heat. Envy constricted my heart each time the pink tongue touched my beloved’s skin, and I wanted to cry and moan at the same time.

I had never seen anything so sensual before.

Cordelia’s body arched to meet her kitten’s lips, who was now alternately suckling on her rosy, stiff nipples. My beloved’s moans grew louder, and Monica finally lapped up the thin line down her stomach, making the muscles under her skin tremble with each touch.

And then she was between my adored student’s legs, and her tongue delved between honey-covered lips. Her chin was soon smeared with the sticky substance, and Cordelia’s moans and whispers of endearment were broken by short, high-pitched gasps of joy.

Jealousy raged through my body. Arousal surged through my veins. I was trembling and felt close to crying, the need to be the one to touch her, to put my lips on her skin and gift her with this pleasure, becoming physical and painful.

“Yes! Yes!” Cordelia’s moans turned into shouts, and then her back lifted from the carpet and her whole body shook. Monica licked frantically at my beloved’s ripe plum, her face buried between trembling, shaking thighs, and then the air was filled by a long, deep growl that hitched in time with the trembling of Cordelia’s body.

She slumped back down and pushed Monica’s head away, a blissful smile on her face that made her look even more of an angel.

“Good kitten,” she whispered, and her classmate once again rubbed her face against Cordelia’s thigh and purred.

* * * * *

No matter how hard I tried to quench these forbidden desires, my body betrayed me. I had to watch for long minutes while Cordelia basked in the afterglow of her climax and Monica purred and rubbed her naked body all over her mistress’. My pussy never stopped running with juices, and those had begun to seep through my panties’ crotch and dripped down lewdly between my legs.

Cordelia sat up and turned towards me with a cunning smile. “Look closely,” she told her kitten, who scrambled to follow the order. “See that?” She asked, her hand hovering agonizingly close to my soaked panties. “She such a randy woman.”

Her eyes locked onto mine. Heat exploded on my cheeks.

“She’s ashamed of her own wantonness, can you see it?”

A small meow confirmed it and made my blush deepen even more.

“It’s such an aphrodisiac to know that we do that to her.” Her voice grew breathless. “It’s an incredible power trip.”

My heart skipped a few beats, even though I had known that this was exactly what she felt.

She pulled my panties downwards, exposed my swollen, needy plum to their eyes. Strings of moisture clung to the fabric and stretched. My musky scent filled the air around us, thick and intense. My thighs shook.

“Touch it,” she urged Monica, who followed the order without hesitation, and soft fingers slid over my slick sex a moment later, smearing it all over my skin.

“Let her lick them clean.”

I wasn’t even asked. I hesitated for a moment when the slimy digits, smelling of my own wanton cream, hovered in front of my closed mouth.

Cordelia smiled at me, her lips tugging upwards when she drank in my predicament. “Do it,” she whispered, barely audible, “for me.”

By god, I should have hated it, but all I felt was a deep, arousing sense of belonging when I parted my lips and stuck out my tongue to taste my own wetness. I trailed the tip of my tongue along Monica’s middle finger and had to breathe hard when the depravity of my actions hit home - and my pussy clenched in excitement.

“This is wrong,” I mumbled, but the rest of my words went unsaid, because Monica’s fingers, short and pudgy compared to Cordelia’s sleek, elegant ones, entered my mouth and filled it completely, wiggling and touched, smearing my tangy nectar over my tongue without inhibitions.

“This is very, very wrong, Miss Wilkins,” Cordelia’s whispered words from right next to my ear confirmed my earlier ones, and each touch of breath on my skin made me shiver. “Everything you’re doing with me is very, very wrong. Isn’t that right?”

Her free hand touched my breast and softly stroked it.

I moaned and nodded around Monica’s fingers, closing my eyes in shame, and a bit of drool dripped down my chin.

“Enough.”

Monica’s fingers withdrew, as did my beloved’s hand, and I was left even hornier than before. The crotch of my panties snapped back into place, accompanied by a squelching sound, and Cordelia got up onto her knees right in front of me.

“I’ve been thinking,” she told me with a coy smile, her voice low and insinuating, “and I want to offer you a choice.”

She held my gaze, and the silent seconds stretched like rubber band. “What...” I finally caved in. “What choice?”

She giggled and her eyes sparkled like diamonds. “I promised you your orgasm tonight.” She softly ran finger over my cheek, and my skin sparkled. “You could have that now.”

I felt the need between my thighs blaze high.

“Or,” she whispered and bit her lip in absolute cuteness that made my heart tumble and throb, “you could trade it for a kiss from me until I find you’ve earned it again.”

‘Just a kiss?’ my mind screamed, but my heart didn’t listen and contemplated the choice.

“Just imagine; a real kiss from me. My lips on yours. And it would make me so happy to know that you’d forsake your fulfilment for my touch.” She leaned close, and her breath tickled my lips and made them tremble. “How much is my kiss worth to you?”

I had to come! I had to find relief after fighting to resist the increasing urges day after day. I was about to go crazy with need!

“Anything,” I answered, breathlessly, and my heart jumped in joy at her delighted grin.

“Wonderful.” She smiled at me with such sincere gratitude that my insides melted. “You’ll have to wait a moment, though, while I give my kitten its reward for being such an eager little cunt licker.”

The smile never left her face while she sat back on her haunches and patted her lap. Quick as lightning, Monica settled herself on Cordelia’s thighs, her back against her mistress’ chest, and laid her head back against her shoulder in a practised, intimate motion.

If had expected tenderness in return, I was mistaken. Cordelia’s right hand delved between her classmate’s legs with rough determination, and I watched with bated breath when she crooked two fingers and pushed them all the way into her kitten’s pussy.

A throaty, shuddering mewl rewarded her effort, but Monica made no move to extricate herself.

Cordelia’s other hand grabbed one of Monica’s small breasts and started to knead and pinch it. Her fingers pistoned in and out of her classmate’s pussy and her thumb pressed down hard on the girl’s clit.

It took less than a minute, just a short time filled with rhythmic slapping and squelching noises, moaned and gasped mewls and sharp, whispered, naughty endearments. Cordelia called her “dirty little pussylicker” and “horny bum-fuck”, “plaything” and “kitten-cunt” until her body stiffened and her mewls turned into a loud wail of ecstasy. She started to writhe in her classmate’s arms.

My breath hitched when Cordelia let them both topple to the side, quickly pulled Monica above her again and wrapped her legs around her kitten’s, all without slowing down her assault on the girl’s pussy.

Monica’s body shook and trembled, her eyes rolled back, and she gave the most delicate whimpers which carried a mixture of lust and pleading.

I could only imagine how overstimulated her little pussy had to be after such a rough treatment, but my beloved still carried on and fucked her classmate’s pussy like mad, starting to sweat herself from the exertion.

God, it was arousing. It was - dominance, pure, sexual dominance. How I longed to be touched by her this way, played by her fingers into utter submission.

Monica’s whimpers turned into small cries, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when her body shook harshly, again and again, and spurts of liquid burst from her abused pussy.

Finally, Cordelia held her movements, and her friend slid bonelessly to the carpet next to her, a blissful smile on her young face and twitching with aftershocks of their intense play.

My beautiful, cruel beloved smiled at me and got slowly back onto her knees. Her thumb brushed over my forehead; she giggled, and I realized that I was sweating just as much as she was.

“You’re really hot.” She tilted her head. “Horny like hell, aren’t you?”

“Oh god, yes!” I couldn’t care about modesty anymore.

“You’d do almost anything so I’d touch your dirty snatch and make you come, wouldn’t you?”

I lowered my eyes, feeling the maelstrom of desire between my thighs. “You know I would.”

“Just imagine how beautiful, how pleasurable it would be right now if I did to you what I did to my kitten.”

My heart tried to burst from my chest, desperation and desire almost consuming me.

“Imagine my fingers ravaging your snatch like they did hers.”

I moaned pathetically.

Her fingers brushed over my lips for a second, moist and smelly with her classmate’s arousal. She lowered her voice and leaned close. “But you won’t come, will you, until I let you?”

I couldn’t speak, so I slowly shook my head, afraid to look away from her measuring gaze.

“Good teacher,” she purred, and then her lips touched mine, just for second, and butterflies started to dance in my tummy; my heart twirled with joy; a tear trickled down my cheek.

“We’re going to bed. I’m going to learn my kitten here some naughty new tricks with a ball or yarn. You can sleep on the carpet.”

A minute later I was alone in the darkened room, curled up on the plush carpet and clutching my hands around my shoulders, afraid what would happen if I let them drift lower.

My body tingled and churned with unmet desire, and I was tortured by sweet images of what might be happening in Cordelia’s bedroom.

I was free-falling, losing myself. And I couldn’t help it. She was the sweetest of all poisons, and I had been condemned the moment I had allowed myself the first taste. Literally.

My mind flashed back to the moment in the classroom, remembered my hesitance, struggle, and finally liberation when my lips had first encountered her pretty feet. It was a fetish, an addiction, I was all too aware of that - but the intensity of that moment alone would have me repeat it, again and again

“Cordelia,” I whispered into the darkness, “my Queen Bee. My young Goddess. My downfall. My beloved. My... despot.”