Chapter 76: DARING TEASE

“Hey, madam.”

“Cash,” I tried to keep a straight face as he approached my desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I need your help,” he said with a sigh, looking around uncomfortably.

“With?”

“I need to cum,” he dropped, and I shook my head. I kinda knew this was what he’d ask for.

I’d kept him in a chastity cage all week, using him to please myself and denying him the same pleasure.

“Not yet,” I said.

“I can’t help it anymore. Yesterday I almost touched myself,” he confessed, and I arched a brow at him.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you? Prepare to be punished.”

“Isabel, please…”

“Tonight, you are not allowed to cum until I say so,” I cut him off, and he sighed, glancing at his jeans zipper.

I could bet all my money that he was hard underneath his clothes.

“How long are you going to punish me by not letting me cum?” Cash finally asked, and I shrugged.

“As long as I want. I want your cock swollen and eager for my command when I touch you,” I said, and his mouth parted for a quick second. I knew he could already imagine the dirty things I would do to him.

He swallowed. “Okay.”

And he was willing to wait.

Such a good puppy.

“When you go back, bend over that desk as you work. I love looking at your ass. Now walk away,” I ordered.

And without another word, he turned and went back to his group. My eyes stayed glued on his behind, wondering the day I would finally peg him.

When he was gone, I smiled satisfactorily to myself. I’d found the best excitement in my soon to be stepson.

Today, my students were having a project and I’d grouped them in preparation for today.

After they’d set up, I walked to the front of the class to instruct them.

“This is a crime scene and your goal is to create and analyze the mock crime scene,” I began.

“What each group has to do is set up a fake crime scene. For example, ‘robbery gone wrong,’ ‘poisoned tea party,’ and so on.”

“And what other groups have to investigate is: photograph the scene, collect ‘evidence’ (fake blood, hair samples, fingerprints), sketch diagrams, and write a short report identifying the suspect.”

“The skills you will need are: scene documentation, evidence handling, teamwork.”

“The materials for the project are: chalk outline, fake blood, gloves, tape, bags, camera, and lab sheets,” I said. My eyes caught Cash staring at me with intrigue.

The fascination was clear in his eyes, and if anyone were to see him staring now, they’d know something was up.

But… I didn’t care about that. I was as hungry for him as he was for me.

I wanted him too.

“Alright,” I said, adjusting my glasses. “Our scenario: possible homicide, found this morning in the student lounge. Let’s treat it like the real thing.”

When I looked again, his hand was dangerously close to the dent in his jeans he was actively trying to hide.

But with the way his hand was moving stealthily… was he going to touch himself? Here? And disobey me?

And his eyes remained glued on me.

Cash was trying to be a brat.

He was ready to take whatever punishment I had planned for him.

I cleared my throat and forced a neutral look. “Now class, welcome to our scene: The Mock Crime Scene Lab. Get to work.”

The lab smelled faintly of latex gloves and disinfectants as the students stood in clusters. Yellow tape crisscrossed the doorway, and a cardboard sign read “DO NOT ENTER — ACTIVE CRIME SCENE.”

The students were all focused on the project, notebooks in hand, brains wracking to find a solution… except Cash.

I stood watching them work, ready to step in when they went wrong, when my phone dinged with a text message.

When I opened it, it was from Cash.

“I exist to please you. Tell me how I’ll please you with my cock and lips tonight, Mistress.”

My breath caught in my throat.

That was so bold of him.

I swallowed hard and clicked my phone shut. This time, when I looked up, he looked too busy feigning interest in the project.

Not knowing how to respond to him, I decided to take a stroll around the groups and see what they were doing.

Cash and Bennet crouched beside the chalk outline drawn on the tiled floor. A red stain, fake blood made from corn syrup and dye, spattered across the edge of a desk. “Pattern suggests impact from the right side,” he murmured.

“Photograph everything before touching anything,” Aisha reminded, already snapping shots on her phone for evidence documentation.

Ethan leaned over the table, squinting at a half-empty coffee cup. “Fingerprint powder or just a swab?”

“Both,” Maya said. “We’ll dust for prints and test the liquid for caffeine or any ‘toxins’ later.”

They moved carefully, marking shoe impressions, bagging “fibers,” sketching the scene. The chatter turned analytical, the laughter faded. For a moment, it didn’t feel like class at all. It felt real. Like I was at work.

When I finally stepped in, clipboard under my arm, I smiled at their efforts.

“Remember,” I said, “good forensics isn’t about what you see first. It’s about what you don’t overlook.”

Maya nodded, glancing once more at the bloodied desk. “Then let’s find what everyone else missed,” she said and turned back to her group.

“Remember, take your time, class,” I said, and Cash glanced up at me. His smile was coy, and it lingered.

And then another text entered.

CASH: “I made my dick hard in public so you can punish me later.”

Now he was pushing it. And after a quick type, I gave him a response.

ISABEL: “I should have put that plug in your dirty little nasty hole.”

I knew the moment he read it because his body tensed like the words affected him, and then he sat straighter in his seat.

CASH: “I’m so uncomfortable in my pants, I really want to cum.”

This text came with a pain emoji that made me smile and I wrote back.

ISABEL: “You’re at my mercy tonight. I’ll decide when and how you receive pleasure.”

When I looked up, he was looking everywhere but me, as if he was scared he would burst right in front of the class if he dared spare me a glance.

ISABEL: Look at me.

CASH: “If I do that, I’m going to have a dry orgasm staring at how that blouse is letting your breasts sway freely. I can almost imagine my mouth on them, sucking your tits while you tell me what to do.”

He knew what he was doing too, because I instantly felt my pussy walls clench. And so I texted back.

ISABEL: “You’re being a very good puppy. I’m in the mood to dominate you tonight. Be ready to serve your Mistress.”

CASH: “Yes, ma’am.”

ISABEL: “I’m going to tie you up and tease you until you can’t take it anymore.”

CASH: “I’ll take whatever you give me, ma’am.”

ISABEL: “You’re going to please your Mistress exactly how I desire. Your arousal is my plaything tonight.”

This time he didn’t text back. I saw him shift in his seat, his hand making some strange moves dangerously close to his zipper.

ISABEL: Take your hands off your cock.

I sent it and didn’t wait for his reply before sending another risky text.

ISABEL: I want to see your dick hard and desperate tonight, all at my command.

He took his hands away, and the familiar tent there made my pussy warm up and my clit pulsate in reply.

ISABEL: Tell me what to want. I’m in a giving mood tonight.