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  © February 2016 Gia Maria Marquez

  Futa After Class

  Futanari Fantasies

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

  Cover © 2016 Gia Maria Marquez

  First Edition 2016

  “Futa After Class” appears in the anthology Futa Fantasies.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  Futa After Class

  Futanari Fantasies

  By Gia Maria Marquez

  Tracy whipped around when a balled up piece of paper hit the back of her head.

  “Cut it out!” she told the bad girls at the back of the room. “Some of us are trying to learn!”

  “Goody-goody!” the bad girls said, disguising the word in a cough.

  Miss Angelica slapped the yardstick against her desk, and Tracy’s nether regions tightened. That slick slapping sound destroyed her every time.

  “Tracy!” Miss Angelica howled. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “I’m sorry,” Tracy said, even though it wasn’t her fault. “Vanna and Kristie threw—”

  “No more excuses,” Miss Angelica commanded, and when Miss Angelica commanded something, you obeyed.

  It wasn’t just Miss Angelica’s demeanour her students found so fearsome. Sure she was icy cold, her voice sharp and flinty, always yelling at the class. But there was more to it. The way she presented herself was positively dominatrix-like.

  She wore her long black hair slicked back in a tight bun. We’re talking so tight it pulled her skin back. That must have hurt. How could she stand it?

  Her skin appeared pale for someone with a golden Polynesian complexion. Hard to say whether it was makeup that lightened her appearance or if she just spent too much time indoors.

  Her makeup was incredible: dark red lipstick like the mark of a vampire, thick black cat-eye liner. The bad girls called her Cat Woman behind her back, but never to her face. Even the bad girls weren’t that daring.

  Today she wore a tight black skirt that was long enough to be business-like, except that it was leather and slit almost all the way to her crotch at the front. With that, a silky white shirt that had mother of pearl buttons, though they weren’t all done up. She left enough open that it was easy to sneak a peek at her swell of cleavage.

  Her breasts were hard to ignore, especially when she wore a black bra under a white shirt. It’s like she wanted to draw attention to her sexiness.

  And the boots! Who could forget Miss Angelica’s big stiletto boots? They could be used as a weapon, if it came to that.

  With one heel, she pierced the crumpled paper the bad girls had thrown at Tracy and picked it up like a litter spike. When she unfolded it, her eyes widened and her lips pursed.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she asked, showing the paper to Tracy.

  It was a drawing of Miss Angelica in a cat suit. Big boobs, hairy balls and a giant erection.

  Tracy felt cold all over. Even her blood turned to ice.

  She turned the drawing over so she wouldn’t have to look at it, then said, “I didn’t draw that, Miss. I would never do something so disrespectful.”

  “Who would?” Miss Angelica growled.

  Tracy knew exactly who would, and who did, but calling Vanna and Kristie out would only put her in the bad girls’ bad books.

  “I don’t know,” Tracy whispered.

  She could feel her teacher’s eyes burning a hole in her forehead, but she didn’t look up. She felt so ashamed.

  The bell rang and Miss Angelica said, “Class dismissed—everyone but you, Tracy. You’ll stay after class.”

  “Yes, Miss,” Tracy said, still without looking up.

  She sat at her desk, trying not to cry, while everyone else filed out. Some kids poked at her or laughed as they passed by, but Tracy was used to being bullied. It had been happening for as long as she could remember. When she was little, she figured the day she turned eighteen that would all magically go away.

  No such luck.

  Now she was just an adult who got picked on instead of a kid who got picked on.

  When the other students had gone, Miss Angelica crossed the room and closed the door.

  And locked it.

  “Stand up, Tracy.”

  Tracy slipped out of her chair and brushed her hands across her pleated grey skirt. She hated her school uniform. The skirt made her butt look big and the short-sleeved white shirt wasn’t built for a girl with breasts as big as hers. She had to pin it closed with safety pins so it wouldn’t pop open. And the neck was so tight! Didn’t help that she had to wear the silly burgundy ribbon where boys wore ties.

  “Your shirt is wrinkled, Tracy.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss.”

  “And your shoes are scuffed.”

  Tracy looked down at her black Mary Janes. They didn’t look too bad to her, but everybody else at this school was a perfectionist. Students and teachers. They didn’t understand the plights of a girl here on scholarship.

  “Your left sock is lower than the right.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss.” Tracy bent down to pull up her thick burgundy knee-highs.

  “Walk to the front of the room.”

  She did, and Miss Angelica followed her for closer inspection.

  “These safety pins are not part of your uniform, Tracy.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but if I take them out my shirt pops open.”

  Miss Angelica crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “They’re not part of your uniform. Take them out.”

  Tracy did as she was told, but as soon as she’d removed the pins her breasts popped the button open, exposing her simple white bra to her teacher.

  “Why haven’t you purchased a larger uniform, if this one is too small?”

  Feeling ashamed of herself and her family, Tracy admitted, “Uniforms are expensive, Miss.”

  “Your parents can’t afford it?”

  Tear pricked her eyes and she nodded.

  She expected Miss Angelica’s voice to soften, but it didn’t. “Bend over my desk, young lady.”

  “Why?” Tracy squealed.

  “The school might not believe in corporal punishment, but I certainly do.”

  “Why? Because of the picture? Miss, I didn’t draw it! I swear to you! I would never draw something like that.”

  “Then who did?” Miss Angelica asked as she picked up the yardstick.

  Tracy couldn’t allow this to happen. She folded like a cheap suit. “It was Vanna and Kristie. They threw it at my head.”

  Propping herself up on the stick, like a dandy with a cane, Miss Angelica asked, “Why did you not tell me this earlier?”

  “Because they’d make my life miserable if I told on them! They already make my life miserable.”

  No pity from Miss Angelica. “Well, now it appears it’s my turn.”

  Miss Angelica pushed Tracy down until her face met the desk.

  Then she pulled up Tracy’s skirt.

  “No!” Tracy cri
ed, tugging at her skirt. “No, please, Miss! I didn’t do anything wrong. Please don’t pull down my panties.”

  Miss Angelica took a step back, and for a moment Tracy thought she was safe. Then Miss Angelica opened the desk and took a school tie out of the lost and found drawer. She wrapped it around Tracy’s wrists and pulled it tight.

  “Stop struggling and do as I say.”

  Tracy swallowed hard. “You promise not to pull down my panties?”

  Miss Angelica made no such promise, only flipped up Tracy’s skirt and whacked her cotton-clad bum with the yard stick. It burned through her panties, but, she suspected, not as much as it would have if her bum had been bare.

  “Please,” Tracy cried. “Please don’t.”

  Miss Angelica smacked her again, and when she screamed, said, “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll shove your panties in there to keep you quiet.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t take off my panties,” Tracy said.

  She must have sounded as panicky as she felt, because Miss Angelica said, “Fine. If you make too much noise, I’ll gag you with MY panties. How’s that?”

  Tracy only whimpered, because she didn’t want to admit the physical reaction that idea sparked in her. The idea of Miss Angelica’s panties…

  The yard stick came down on her quick, and she screamed.

  “I’m sorry!” Tracy said. “I wasn’t ready for it. I’m so sorry!”

  “You know what happens now.”

  Miss Angelica set the yardstick beside Tracy on the desk and sent both hands up the high slit in her leather skirt.

  Her panties were black. Tracy’s were white.

  She hooked her thumbs around the hips and slid them down her thighs. Tracy concentrated hard, but missed seeing her teacher’s mound in the flesh.

  They weren’t actually panties. It was a thong. And certainly not cotton. A stretchy Lycra type fabric that surprised Tracy’s tongue.

  She choked at first. It felt so strange to have something stuffed in her mouth. And then she began to taste the aroma of her teacher’s nether regions. She’d never tasted anyone’s parts before. It was the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced.

  As she savoured the scent of her teacher’s crotch, Miss Angelica picked up the yardstick and slapped Tracy’s ass once again. This time it really hurt, but when she cried out, her scream was muffled. She realized she could probably spit the thong out if she tried, but she’d get in even more trouble for that.

  So instead she bit down on the thong as Miss Angelica’s yardstick slapped her ass. She could feel the tie digging into her wrists, but it didn’t stop her struggling.

  Until Miss Angelica slapped her thighs instead of her ass.

  Tracy had never experienced a pain like this. Her thighs were bare. Did that make all the difference? Or were her thighs actually MORE sensitive than her bum cheeks?

  She squealed and shrieked into the panty gag, but that didn’t stop Miss Angelica doing it again.

  The second time hurt even worse than the first. The sizzle of wood on soft skin wasn’t worth the titillation Tracy felt. It stung too much. A centralized sting. Stuck in her thighs.

  “Do you think you’ve been sufficiently punished?” Miss Angelica asked.

  “Yes!!!” Tracy cried.

  Miss Angelica yanked out the gag. “Repeat yourself.”

  “Yes,” Tracy whispered, so as not to attract attention from anyone who might be in the hall.

  She looked up at Miss Angelica, but couldn’t read the expression on her teacher’s face. It looked a lot like bitter hatred.

  “May I go now, Miss Angelica?”

  “No, Tracy. Not just yet.”

  She was sure her teacher would slap her ass again, but instead Miss Angelica placed the yardstick back in the tray by the blackboard, where it belonged. Her teacher also pulled out the low gym bench she often stood on when she was writing something high up on the board.

  “What is the bench out for?” Tracy asked.

  Miss Angelica wrenched her arm and tugged her down from the desk. Tracy remained somewhat bent over because she didn’t want Miss to see how much the punishment had aroused her. But then Miss Angelica turned her around and pushed her down so she was lying with her back on the bench, looking up at the ceiling

  And then looking up at Miss Angelica’s crotch.

  Her teacher straddled her face, hiking that cruel leather skirt up until the slit in the garment revealed the slit in Miss Angelica.

  Tracy had never seen one before. It had some dark hair around it, but not much. Very short and trim.

  Between the two lips, there was very pink flesh that glistened like sunlight on a peaceful lake.

  Her teacher’s clit was more red than pink, and it poked out between the lips, begging for attention.

  “You’re never done this before, have you, Tracy?”

  “No, Miss.”

  It really didn’t matter what Miss Angelica was referring to. Tracy hadn’t done anything.

  As Miss Angelica descended to her knees, Tracy watched the teacher’s pussy coming at her. It seemed to get pinker and juicier as it approached her face.

  What a sight! The pleasure of viewing her teacher’s nether regions this way nearly took away the pain she felt, lying on top of her wrists, which were still tied up behind her. It made her front poke up.

  When Miss Angelica got down on her knees, she was at the perfect height to splay her pussy lips across Tracy’s mouth. She’d pulled her skirt almost all the way up, and now Tracy could get a full-on taste of the slit she’d only sampled when Miss put that thong in her mouth.

  “I want you to make me come as quickly and quietly as possible,” Miss Angelica said.

  “Yes, Miss. Only…”

  “Only what?” the teacher growled.

  “Only I don’t know how.”

  Miss Angelica looked quite fierce when she gazed down at Tracy. “All you have to do is lick and suck. Even a student as mediocre as you are can surely figure it out.”

  Tracy wasn’t sure why, but the meaner Miss Angelica acted, the more she wanted to impress the woman.

  So she wrapped her mouth around her teacher’s mound and sucked.

  Right away, Miss Angelica started to moan, so Tracy must have been doing something right. Miss Angelica also started to rock gently on her face. The teacher’s pussy juice ran down Tracy’s throat. She struggled not to choke, but she had to pull away to swallow.

  When Miss Angelica ran both hands through Tracy’s hair and gripped her head tight, that changed things up pretty fast. The woman’s fingernails were fierce and Tracy could feel them against her scalp like a terrifying massage.

  “Lick me, Tracy.”

  Tracy wasn’t too confident about the licking. She wasn’t sure where to lick, exactly. She tried licking inside her teacher’s pussy, but that didn’t elicit the same reaction as sucking. So she licked around it, licked the bottom and the sides, but that didn’t do much either.

  When she licked her teacher’s clit, that didn’t do much either. But when she tried to move on, Miss Angelica tightened her grip on Tracy’s head and said, “Keep licking.”

  Tracy couldn’t speak with her teacher’s pussy in her mouth, so she just licked that tiny clit as fast and as fierce as she could manage. It was hard to do, like licking a pin over and over, but Tracy liked the way her teacher’s pussy slobbered all over her chin as she did it.

  “More, Tracy,” Miss Angelica said, pressing her hands on either side of Tracy’s head.

  The pressure was painful, but at least it took her mind off the way her wrists were clanging together between the bend and her back. Or the way her crotch was throbbing so hard it might just burst through her panties.

  Her teacher started riding her face like a pony, back and forth in little bursts, then sharper ones, then thrusting so hard against her mouth Tracy worried her teacher would take her head off.

  “Yesss,” Miss Angelica growled, ripping open her shirt and tugging
down the cups of her bra.

  Tracy’s nether regions throbbed wildly when she got a look at her teacher’s breasts. They were big and honey-golden, and the nipples were even more golden and dark. And hard!

  Just the sight of those big bouncing breasts made Tracy want things she never thought she could have.

  “Oh Tracy,” Miss Angelica said as she grabbed both her breasts and squeezed them together. “Oh, I’m about to come all over your face.”

  And then she did!

  Tracy had no idea women could come like this, with a wet blast of something squirting all over her mouth and face. It smelled sweet. What could it be?

  Miss Angelica bit her arm to keep from screaming, and all Tracy could think was that she’d end up with red lipstick all over her top. But she’d already torn off the buttons, so maybe it didn’t matter.

  When her teacher sat back on her chest, Tracy’s torrid arousal got the best of her.

  “You got what you wanted,” she told her teacher. “Now it’s my turn.”

  She bucked her chest hard enough to drive the woman off. Miss Angelica tumbled to one said, obviously worn out from her orgasm, and Tracy took full advantage. She arched off the bench, wrangled her wrists out of the stupid tie, then stood to show her teacher what to expect.

  “Tracy!” Miss Angelica said with a gasp. “What’s that bulge in your skirt.”

  Tracy threw down her panties and pulled up her uniform to give her teacher a better look.

  The wide-eyed wonder in Miss Angelica’s eyes made Tracy so proud two more buttons popped off her blouse. Now her plain white bra was exposed, and so was her fully tumescent dick.

  “Get up on the table, Miss. And spread your legs.”

  Miss Angelica scrambled up on her desk, with her skirt still pulled up over her waist and her bra still tugged down under her breasts.

  Tracy had never down this before, but her arousal built her confidence. Not only did she approach her teacher, but she lifted Miss Angelica’s legs over her shoulders so those dangerous boots were behind her back.