White teacher submissive is seduced by black dominant parent
Jasmine’s last parent-teacher interview was scheduled for nine at night, a full hour after the evening was supposed to end. Janet Jones, the mother of Bethany Jones, couldn’t make it until this late time because of another meeting.
Jasmine was overly tired, and a bit bitchy after a day of teaching followed by an evening of interviews. Most of them had gone well, and she wasn’t expecting this one to go poorly, as Bethany was a great student.
Jasmine tried to grade Hamlet essays but her mind was done for the day, so instead she was playing Flappy Birds on her phone when Mrs. Jones walked in at five minutes after nine.
“Sorry I’m late,” Janet smiled warmly, a voluptuous black woman in her early forties, a virtual older copy of her daughter.
Jasmine looked up startled, her bird crashing. She was surprised by how much alike the mother and daughter looked. No way did this woman look old enough to have an eighteen year old daughter. She turned on her fake teacher charm and greeted, “Hi, Mrs. Jones, no worry at all. Gave me a chance to do some marking.”
Janet smiled, “Looks like some new wave marking,” pointing to the phone.
Jasmine laughed, “I’m mentally done and this flappy birds game is ridiculously addicting.”
Janet, the devious plan in her head the real reason she insisted on the late time, quipped her new prey oblivious to her true meaning, “Addiction is hard to control.”
Jasmine laughed, “Stupid cell phones. I’m not really much of a gamer. My ten year old son put this game on my phone.”
Janet laughed back, deciding to lean on a student’s desk rather than sit in the chair put across from the teacher in order to showcase her long nylon-clad legs and her voluptuous breasts. “So what are we going to do about my daughter?”
The teacher chuckled, “I know, she’s quite a handful.”
Janet, again responding with naughty innuendo, quipped, “Oh, she’s more than a handful.”
Jasmine noticed the odd tone of the mother’s response, but didn’t put much thought into it. “Were there any particular concerns about the report card I emailed last week?”
“No, no,” Janet shook her head, as she hopped onto the desk and slowly crossed her right leg over her left. “Her grades are great.”
“She has the highest mark in the class,” Jasmine agreed, unable to not notice the mother’s long legs in nylon, her fetish ever since her old school boyfriend insisted she wear them for him. She had since worn them almost every day of her life from plus 90 degree summer days to the crazy cold of winter. Nylons were part of who she was, like her brown hair, blue eyes and 34b breasts.
Jasmine was also surprised to see this attractive black woman in pantyhose. They seemed to be so out in 2014 (which was a shame because they definitely enhanced the seductive allure of any woman) and other than Bethany, who wore them with her cheerleader’s outfit, no other students of colour ever wore nylons (a few wore tights, but they are about as sexy as a sweatshirt).
“Her grades are not why I’m here,” Janet continued, dangling her five inch power heel on the end of her foot. Her daughter was confident that Mrs. Walker was submissive, bi-curious and had a nylon fetish. Bethany was sure that this sweet, innocent looking teacher wore thigh high stockings underneath her dresses and skirts, and even with her jeans on casual Friday. Janet was determined to find out if her daughter was correct on all three assessments.
Although Bethany was a chip off her mother’s block, having seduced and dommed six white classmates in her senior year, she still doubted herself with adult white women. Although she desperately wanted her first MILF to be her English teacher, she wasn’t confident enough to pull it off.
Thus, with Christmas just a couple of weeks away, Janet decided this teacher would be an early Christmas present for her daughter.
“So what is your concern?” Mrs. Walker asked, surprised that this interview may not go as expected and suddenly scolding herself for telling the principal he could go home, even after he offered to stick around in case he was needed (but Jasmine was confident this interview was just a formality, like most ‘A’ students’, where parents just came to get the kudos of praise that always followed).
“Bethany thinks you have a crush on her,” Janet revealed.
“Pardon?” Jasmine gasped. Those were the last words she thought could possibly be said to her. Although her darkest, pun intended, fantasy was to be seduced and dommed by a student, particularly a black student, these were not desires she felt she remotely revealed in the classroom. No doubt, Bethany’s long black legs in those amazingly shiny pantyhose caught her attention every game day, football season and now basketball season, but she didn’t think anyone noticed her sly glances.
“She’s convinced you’re a lesbian,” Janet bluntly said, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs like Sharon Stone in the classic scene in the movie ‘Basic Instinct’.
Jasmine couldn’t help but watch in awe, just like Michael Douglas did in that same movie, as she stammered, pulling herself from the sultry action in front of her, “I-I-I’m married.”
“So am I,” Janet replied right back, “but there is something very special and sacred when two women are intimate”.
Jasmine was floored. Her fantasies for years, ever since she secretly began writing porn stories on Literotica, originally predominantly lesbian porn stories, had been to make her lesbian curiosity a reality. She was a complete submissive for her husband, thus the reason she was currently wearing thigh highs under her black skirt and why she was also sans underwear at the moment. Yet, she couldn’t read this beautiful black woman, ‘was she hitting on me?’ She pondered.
“Speechless,” Janet smiled, swinging her leg like the pendulum on a clock. “They say a picture is worth a thousand words and the look on your face speaks volumes.”
“I don’t,” the flustered teacher began. “I mean, I think this is,” she stopped. “I think we should keep our conversation to Bethany.”
“Of course,” Janet agreed with a smile. “So Bethany believes you have a nylon fetish. Is that true?”
Jasmine couldn’t believe how everything this black mother said was true. She tried to answer without giving away her sexual perversion. “I do like to wear nylons,” she admitted.
“Stand up,” Janet ordered, “let’s see what you are wearing right now.”
“Excuse me?” Jasmine questioned, surprised again by the bluntness of this mother. She was used to bluntness by parents, but it was usually over her hard grading or high expectations.
“Stand up now,” Janet repeated, her tone shifting to much firmer.
She didn’t know exactly why, partly because of the tone of the woman and partly out of an inner psychological need to obey, but she stood up.
“Walk over to the front of your desk,” Janet instructed next.
Mrs. Walker protested, sensing this conversation getting completely out of her control, “Mrs. Jones, I must insist….”
“Now!” Janet firmly ordered, her tone no nonsense.
Again the submissive teacher, feeling an undeniable wetness in her cunt, felt compelled to obey. She walked out from behind her desk and soon stood in front of the intriguing woman.
“Bethany is confident that underneath the teacher’s attire you wear to school each day you are actually wearing thigh high stockings, is that true?”
Mrs. Walker couldn’t believe how observant Bethany was. Every skirt and dress was plenty long enough to hide the lace tops of her expensive pure silk stockings, so she was bewildered that the cheerleader could notice such things. She stammered. “S-s-sometimes.”
“Right now?” Janet queried.
“Yes,” Jasmine admitted, feeling compelled to answer honestly.
“Oops,” Janet said, all diva dramatic, as her heel hit the floor. “Could you get that for me?”
Jasmine knew immediately, having written sexual seduction scenes just like this in her stories, what this mother was doing (although the feeling was surreal that fantasy was potentially becoming reality), yet she silently, bent down and grabbed the clearly very expensive shoe. She went to hand it to Mrs. Jones when she was stopped.
“Please put it back on my foot, Mrs. Walker,” Janet ordered, this seduction going exactly as planned. Sometimes seducing white women took work: psychological manipulation or blackmail, but this one was just going to be a smooth transition from taking a white woman’s secret fantasy and making it a very, very concrete reality.
Jasmine again knew this was crossing so many professional lines, knew she should stand up to this woman, yet she again obeyed, putting the heel back on the mother’s foot and briefly feeling the smooth silk of the pantyhose, which immediately triggered a pulsation to her now needy cunt.
“Thank you,” Janet smiled, looking down at the flustered, red cheeked teacher.
“No problem,” Jasmine nodded, standing back up, trying to make like it wasn’t a big deal.
“So two of three of Bethany’s assessments are true,” Janet continued her sly seduction of the cute teacher.
The teacher was rattled and completely out of her element, feeling suddenly like a character in one of her many stories. A rush of excitement and an undeniable wetness lightly leaking from her cunt was countered by the anxiety of the unknown and the risk of her career. Jasmine nervously asked, “What did Bethany tell you?”
“First, that you were wearing thigh highs underneath your teacher attire,” Janet began. “Second that you are a lesbian. Obviously that is not true, you are married and all, but there is little doubt you are curious if not bisexual.”
Jasmine couldn’t believe how accurate Bethany and Mrs. Jones were. Yes, she always wore thigh high stockings, and yes she was bisexual, although relations between women were far and long between.
“Third,” Mrs. Jones listed, “she sensed you’re submissive, which now seems pretty obvious, doesn’t it?”
Jasmine’s already red face burned more. At home, she was incredibly submissive to her husband in the bedroom, as she also had been to a couple of her earlier boyfriends (none of them truly understood just how much she wanted to be controlled in the bedroom or how far she was willing to go…thankfully her husband did). Yet, at work she was a strong-willed, no nonsense teacher, although also very personable and compassionate.
“Again, a picture is worth a thousand words,” Janet smiled, before adding, “or your silence speaks volumes. Whichever cliché you like best.”
Jasmine really wasn’t sure what to say. She was a terrible liar and everyone had always told her as much and thus she didn’t want to be caught in a lie.
Janet continued, “So, the question becomes what to do about it.”
The teacher finally said, knowing if she didn’t speak soon she would end up in a predicament she couldn’t control, “Mrs. Jones, I’m beginning to get very uncomfortable with this conversation.”
“I imagine your cunt is also very uncomfortable right now, I bet there’s a great discomfort in your panties, isn’t there?” Janet playfully asked, swearing for the first time.
Jasmine couldn’t deny the truth of that statement, she could feel the wetness slither slowly down her leg, cursing her decision to not wear underwear. Yet, she responded, trying to somehow prevent what she was already confident was on Mrs. Jones’ mind, “This is not the place for this conversation.”
“Where is?” Janet queried. “My house with Bethany home? Your house with your husband and children home? No, no, I think this is the perfect place for this conversation. No one else is here, other than the night janitor, and it’s unlikely he will be coming this way.”
Jasmine was overwhelmed. Even though the offer hadn’t been verbalized, part of her was already willing to just drop to her knees in front of this beautiful black woman, yet the trepidation of impacting her job and family kept her at bay…although the strength to resist, if the offer was actually made, was already brittle.
“Do you like Christmas?” Janet asked out of the blue.
Jasmine was surprised by the shift in conversation, but pointed to the nativity scene on the back wall, a Charlie Brown one, and joked, “I wish it could be Christmas season all year round.”
“It can be,” Janet smiled, “I believe you would be the perfect gift for my daughter.”
“Pardon?” Jasmine questioned, realizing instantly the true purpose of this strange conversation, even more complex than she anticipated.
Ignoring the white teacher’s bewildered look, the experienced seductress continued, “But do you know what is missing?”
“What?” Jasmine asked, skeptically, sensing the answer would be another piece of the puzzle that was all coming together right in front of her eyes, Jasmine knowing she was being played like a fiddle and unable to stop the music.
“Mistletoe,” Janet answered. “You have a nativity scene, you have candy canes on your desk, your door is already decorated like a Christmas tree, but no mistletoe. Although I guess that makes sense in a classroom, I’m sure you are not supposed to encourage kissing.” Bethany had told her of Mrs. Walker’s love for Christmas, and she figured she would use it for the climactic submission.
Jasmine nodded, “Yes, I’m not sure the admin would be a big fan of that.”
“Thankfully, I brought my own,” Janet revealed, the seduction almost complete, pulling it out of her purse.
“Y-y-you did?” Jasmine stammered, even though she knew exactly where this was going, or at least she thought she did.
“Yes,” Janet smiled, as she stood up, lifted up her dress to reveal she too was wearing thigh highs, and placed the mistletoe just above her cunt, “It is the festive thing to do.”
Jasmine stared at the black woman’s shaved pussy in complete paralysis. This was one of her greatest fantasies, to be seduced by a black woman. All she had to do was obey like a good submissive, something she always did at home.
Janet smiled to herself as she watched the teacher stare at her cunt. She instructed, gently, “Go ahead, and give my pussy lips a big kiss.”
Jasmine’s head was a muddled mess. She knew she should demand this woman leave; she knew she should bluntly refuse the offer just given; yet, like so many of her characters in her stories she felt the weight of her body suddenly too heavy to carry, she felt her knees so weak and desperately needing to rest, she felt herself lowering to the floor, her eyes never breaking eye contact with the beautiful shaved black pussy.
“Now crawl to me, my teacher pet,” Janet instructed, guiding her pet-to-be.
Hearing the words ‘teacher pet’, words she had used distinctly in her stories, only enhanced both the wetness between her legs and the desire to obey. Yet, it also made her briefly wonder if somehow this woman knew of her secret erotica writing persona. But in the end, her true submissive nature, her unbridled desire for a black woman, overrode common sense as she got on all fours, like a real pet, and crawled the brief distance to the mother of one of her students.
“Good girl,” Janet purred, knowing positive endearing, slightly humiliating terms were critical in the full training of a woman like Jasmine. As mentioned, sometimes a seduction is aggressive, sometimes it’s manipulative, but sometimes tenderness is what is needed.
Jasmine felt a chill go up her spine at the strange compliment, knowing it was meant to both encourage and set the hierarchy in place.
“Go ahead, my pet, give me a nice big kiss,” Janet offered, spreading her legs even wider.
Jasmine couldn’t resist any longer, consequences be damned, her fantasy was becoming reality and nothing else mattered other than complete submission to this beautiful black goddess. She leaned forward and kissed the slightly wet pussy lips.
“Hmmmmm,” Janet moaned, always loving the moment when a white woman’s lips made contact with her cunt lips. “Maybe you should use some tongue,” she added playfully.
Jasmine obeyed without hesitation, as she began to explore the black woman’s pussy lips. Her taste was stronger and more exotic than others she had tasted, and after just a couple licks she knew she was addicted. She wondered, ‘Does Bethany taste like this too?’ And then scolded herself for having such a naughty thought about her student, even though apparently Bethany assumed she already had been.
“That’s it, my teacher pet, enjoy your early Christmas present,” Janet continued, enjoying the woman’s eager and somewhat experienced tongue. Although the greatest rush came from turning a white racist bitch into a cunt licker, this rare sweet seduction was a nice change of pace. While not romantic, it was a tender moment, unlike most of her other seductions.
Jasmine continued licking, not able to satiate her hunger for pussy once it was given to her and she did indeed see this as a great present, one that she wanted to unwrap completely with her tongue.
Mrs. Jones often struggled to come while standing, so she moved to the teacher’s desk, spread her legs and quipped, “They say an apple a day keeps the doctor away, but I think a black pussy a day makes a white woman’s day.”
Jasmine, disappointed briefly when the delicious cunt moved away, quickly moved back in front of the woman and buried her face in her cunt. She desperately wanted to get her off, to taste her cunt cum, and to be a good teacher pet. She licked and lapped, she roamed and teased, until the breathing of the black mother increased. Like in her stories, and few lesbian encounters, she knew this was the time to concentrate on the clit.
“Oh God,” Janet moaned as the eager teacher flicked her tongue onto her very sensitive clit. “That’s it, my teacher pet, I bet you are dying to taste my cum.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Jasmine quickly answered, like the submissive she was, before she realized her faux pas. Yet she was too far gone to correct herself, the word out, the natural consequences would follow as Mrs. Jones decided.
“Yes, you little teacher slut, you will make a good pet for meeee,” Janet smiled, slightly surprised by the term Mistress being used, although it expedited the conversation that was to follow once this white pet training was done.
Being called a slut always turned Jasmine on because she craved to be one. Craved to eat teenage pussy, craved to suck black cock, craved to be gangbanged, craved to be ass fucked and craved to be used as a complete submissive slave for the pleasure of a Mistress. Cunt juice trickled down her leg as she continued licking, sensing the orgasmic eruption was imminent.
“Here it comesssssss, my white teacher slutttt,” Janet declared, knowing she would be a very eager addition to her harem of white woman.
Unlike the other women she had pleasured, this black woman was a squirter. Jasmine had researched this, and seen it in the movies, but never seen it or felt it in real life. She felt her face coated with wetness as she continued lapping up the taste of decadence. The black woman’s cum was unexplainably addictive, a taste unlike any she had ever had. She didn’t want the fountain of pussy juice to end as she savoured every drop of pussy perfection.
Janet had seen eager white pussy pleasers, had created quite a few herself through training, but none had been as obedient, eager and thorough as this white teacher. She knew she would be a long term pet addition and also knew she would obey and submit to her daughter if told to. Once her orgasm was done, she gently pushed the still licking pet away and asked, “Are your panties wet?”
Jasmine no longer the teacher of this woman’s daughter, but rather the submissive pet of this black woman and feeling totally at home on her knees, and wanting to impress and shock her new Mistress answered with a playful smile, looking up from her submissive position, “My panties can’t be wet.””Why’s that?” Janet asked, intrigued by the odd tone of the teacher.
“I’m not wearing any,” Jasmine revealed with a naughty smile.
“You really prove the theory appearances can be deceiving,” Janet said, actually surprised by her pet’s naughtiness.
Jasmine smiled, still on her knees, “My husband tells me I’m an enigma.”
“That you are,” Janet smiled, while grabbing a candy cane from the festive Santa coffee cup. She asked, “Do you want to come, my pet?”
The horny teacher, her face still wet with pussy juice, admitted, somehow needing to show how willing she was to be a good pet, “Desperately, Mistress.”
“Go sit on my daughter’s desk,” Janet instructed.
Jasmine stood up, moved to a front row desk, directly in front of her own desk, and sat on top of it.
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