Miss Belle Misbehaves

5 min read

photo: SexArt

A teacher gets the punishment she craves

If I weren’t deep in student debt and short on rent money I wouldn’t be doing this — serving drinks at a party hosted by a sleazy rich bastard, faking a smile when a stray hand slides across my ass.

Most of the guests are out front where the band is, but I’ve been assigned to serve those around the swimming pool. It’s not as warm as the weatherman predicted. I’m freezing my tits off in the required ‘slutty waitress’ outfit, and the only person in the pool is a guy with muscular shoulders and a perfect stroke. He’s swimming laps like a pro, while a few trophy wives lounge by the poolside watching him and waving their diamond rings in my direction when they need a refill.

The whole place reeks of overpriced perfume, chlorine and old money. I’m thinking about sneaking off to find a sweater, knowing it will lower my chances of getting much-needed tips, when the swimmer emerges on my side of the pool.

He’s drying his face, and I’m imagining a merger — transforming myself into his swim trunks, wet and clinging to his cock.

He lowers the towel, our eyes meet and blood rushes to my cheeks. I’m warm for the first time all day.

“Miss — ”

I cut him off before he can say, Miss Stotts. “Belle. Tonight I’m just Belle.”

Gaelin Whitaker, the most lusted-after teacher at the high school, looks me up and down slowly, lingering on my erect nipples, which are clearly visible through my barely-there bra and transparent white blouse, and pausing at my hips as if he can see through my very short, skin-tight black skirt to the thong underneath. “Would you like to dance, Miss Belle?”

“I really would,” I nod at my tray, “but I’m here to work.”

Gaelin touches my chin, brushing his thumb across my lips, causing my heart to pound and my clit to throb. “I’m sure the boss won’t notice if we disappear for a little while.”

I’m sure he’s wrong, but I don’t care. I want what he’s promising more than I want a paycheck. I set down my tray and follow Gaelin past the other guests, up the stairs, and into a bedroom. He locks the door.

The man is ripped. Chest, shoulders, biceps, abs, cock; I want to touch, lick, suck, everything I see, but just as badly I want him to do it all to me.

“I could get you fired, you know. You’re a very naughty girl, Miss Belle.”

The words ignite me. Heart strumming, pussy pulsing, I play along. “Are you going to punish me?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I am.”

Gaelin leads me to a corner of the room, orders me to put my hands on the wall, feet apart as if he’s going to frisk me.

I don’t even hesitate.

“You’re going to face the corner until class is over, is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” I don’t where the sir came from, but it sounds right.

He hikes my skirt up, tucks it into my waistband.

“These panties are quite inappropriate for a woman in your position.” One finger slides along the narrow strip of material, right between my cheeks, all the way to my pussy, lightly stroking me through the damp material. “What are we going to do about it?”

“Take them off?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”


His finger slips beneath the material, circling my entrance, which is getting wetter by the second. By the time his finger enters me, I’m moaning and writhing.

Gaelin is fucking me with his finger but it’s not enough. I need my clit touched. He’s denying me this. I take one hand from the wall to do it myself and he grabs my wrist with his free hand and withdraws his finger.

“None of that, Miss Belle. Both hands on the wall. You’re being punished.”

A little whimper escapes me, but I do as he says.

He lowers the thong, orders me to step out of it. I do it.

Gaelin strokes my hair, whispers in my ear, “You’re an obedient little slut, aren’t you?”

“For you, I am.”

He chuckles. “I love the sound of that. My own private slut.”

I turn and kiss him hard on the mouth. He responds, his tongue hot and probing, and I think the game is over. In another moment he’ll be on me, in me.

Instead, I feel a hard smack on my ass. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”


“Bad girl. I’m not done punishing you.” He strokes my ass and spreads my cheeks. “Wider Miss Belle, so everyone in the class can see your shame.”

I widen my stance, legs trembling. Gaelin reaches around and slowly unbuttons my blouse. He unhooks it and squeezes both breasts at once. “You’re behaving very well, Miss Belle. So well that I’m going to bring you a chair so you can sit down.”

I miss the heat of his hands the second they’re gone. I almost tell him I don’t need a chair. I almost beg him to get on with it, and just fuck me. Instead, I stare at the wall waiting for whatever he has planned.

His hands are on my hips. “You can sit down now, Miss Belle.”

Gaelin is sitting on the chair, guiding me onto his lap. I feel the head of his cock at my entrance and sit down hard, shuddering as he fills me.

I want to turn around, see his gorgeous face, while I grind my clit into his pubic bone, but I’m afraid to disobey, afraid he’ll stop, or prolong my release even longer. He’s gripping my thighs from underneath, controlling my movements so I can’t go as fast I want to. Just when I think he’s going to come this way — without once touching my clit — he lifts me off his lap and stands up.

He shakes his head at me. “What a disheveled mess you are, Miss Belle.”

My clothes are still on, blouse hanging open, bra dangling, skirt half up, and half down.

“Should I take my clothes off?”

“Yes, yes, I think that would be best.”

I strip everything off.

“Much better. I want you to lie down now and let me look at you. All of you.”

I lie down on the bed with my legs open. He shakes his head. “Wider, Miss Belle.”

I spread my thighs as far apart as they’ll go and am rewarded with a smile. “Very nice. Your obedience deserves a reward.”

He kneels between my thighs, takes his cock in hand and rubs the head on my clit. It’s so sensitive that it takes only seconds for me to come.

“Turn over, Miss Belle.”

I get on my knees and he slides into me from behind. I know from the primal sounds coming from his throat that he’s close to coming. And still, he takes a few seconds to stroke my clit, and give me a second orgasm.

He knows I’ll come twice. I always do.

We’re face to face, bodies entwined. “I can’t believe you had the balls to crash this party.”

“What makes you think I crashed it?”

“Don’t tell me you know the dirty old man who hired me? Short skirt, tight blouse equals good tips, is what he told me. And if I want to make some real money, like some of the other girls do, he can arrange it.”

Gaelin laughed. “The dirty old man is my uncle. When you told me you were working this party, I had to come. I wanted to make sure I’d be the only one you fuck tonight.”

“You didn’t really think I was desperate enough to whore myself out, did you?”

“No. I really didn’t.” He kisses me tenderly. “I wanted to see you tonight. The thing is, I want to see you every night.”

We’ve only been going out for a few months. Nothing official, or exclusive. I have a feeling that’s about to change, and I couldn’t be happier.

“You’d better get dressed and get back out there. Don’t let on that we know each other. At least not until you’ve been paid.”

I don’t know exactly what Gaelin told his uncle, but my payment for the evening was ten times what I expected.

Rebel Raine writes erotic short stories and sizzling hot romance. For info on new releases and free fiction days you can sign up for her newsletter here: https://rebelraine.substack.com/

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