Good Girl vs. Slut Ch. 03

Story Info
Trisha is forced into some more extra credit.
5.2k words
4.55
320.1k
97

Part 3 of the 19 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 08/30/2008
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Trisha's shower the next day was extra long. As soon as she woke up, she felt confused, and a bit ashamed and dirty. Yesterday's encounter with Mr. Braun had been a product of panic, she had decided, panic that caused her to make a terrible decision, and nothing more. If she hadn't been so flustered, she would have realized that it was just a test, but now there was nothing to do but move on. Just move on, Trisha.

Try as she might, though, she couldn't convince herself. She had worn one of her favorite outfits to try to take her mind off of it; her comfy, lacey pink top, and her frilled white skirt that stopped just below her knees. Her friend Mandy, the sweet thing she was, had surprised her with a croissant and cappuccino in between second and third period. But nothing worked. Everything felt the exact same, and yet, somehow, it was all different. Trisha knew that nothing was wrong with her, that she was still the good girl she had always been, just a good girl who had made a bad decision. So why did she still have that lurching, weird feeling in her stomach?

Just get through the day, she told herself. The worst had been saved for last; today AP History was her final class. She quietly snuck into the class and sat in the back, unassuming, deliberately avoiding Mr. Braun's gaze. Her teacher was acting as if nothing was wrong, lecturing and teaching as usual, dressed in the same suit as always. She slunk further down in her chair, and stared at the clock. Thirty minutes left...

After what seemed like an eternity, the bell finally rang. Mr. Braun's voice was quickly drowned out by the rising chatter of the students, eager to leave for the day. Trisha bolted upright in her chair, grabbing her textbook with one hand and her backpack with the other. She stood up quickly, smoothing out the hem of her skirt, and hurried to follow the rest of the class out of the room. The cheerleader kept her head down, looking at her feet. She was only two steps from the door when she heard Mr. Braun's voice ring out above the clamor.

"Trisha!"

She flinched involuntarily as she felt his hand on her shoulder. He was smiling down at her.

"Would you mind staying a little bit late? I have something I need to discuss with you."

Trisha's stomach lurched. She looked around helplessly at the students that were walking around her, talking happily. "Um…I really have to go, Mr. Braun, I'm sorry…"

"Oh, it'll only take a few minutes. Please, I insist."

"Umm…o-okay…"

Trisha stepped out of the way to let the people behind her through the door. The cheerleader's heart pounded as she watched the rest of the students file out of the room. Mr. Braun closed the door, and with a loud clank, locked it. Trisha gulped.

"How are you feeling, Trisha?"

The cheerleader ran a hand through her long brown hair, trying to act nonchalant. "Um, I'm fine. No problem. What did you want to speak to me about?"

Mr. Braun slid his hands into his pockets and began to pace. "Well, Trisha…I've been thinking."

"Yes?"

He turned to face her. "I've been thinking…that we should make your extra credit an ongoing thing."

Trisha's heart plummeted. A hot wave of fear blazed through her body. "Um…what…what do you mean?"

"Well, Trisha, if you'll remember, I mentioned that your grades have been slipping for a while now. One test won't change everything. You're going to need to do some more extra credit to get all those A's."

The cheerleader shifted her weight, her big brown eyes staring straight up at him, shocked and frightened. "Oh…no thank you Mr. Braun…I think I'm happy with my grades now…"

"But Trisha…you do want to pass the class, don't you?" He had stepped closer to her now, barely a foot away. His eyes were fixed on her, and a slight, evil grin was starting to trickle across his face. "You understand that you won't pass the class if you don't do this extra credit."

"W…what…?" Is he threatening me??

"That's a very pretty skirt, Trisha. I'll tell you what. I'll change this F+ for last week's homework to a C- if you take it off." His grin was wider now, leering down at the shuddering cheerleader. Her eyes widened in protest.

"An F+! Mr. Braun, you…you posted our grades on Monday, and for that assignment I –"

"No, no, Trisha. I have it right here, see?" He picked a sheet of paper off of his desk and waved it in front of her. It was her homework, and clearly printed on the top in red ink was a large F.

"But…but…"

"Now, Trisha. I am giving you a special opportunity to fix your grade. Let's get you out of that pretty little skirt." He took a step forward now, resting a hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing it. Instinctively, the cheerleader backed up, wriggling out of his grasp. She jumped with a start as she bumped into the desk behind her.

"I'm waiting, Trisha…"

The cheerleader shuddered involuntarily. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she might collapse. Her mind was dizzy with fright. What else does he want? Does he…does he want to…fuck me? She shuddered again at the thought. All she wanted was to get a good grade. What would he do if she refused? Would he fail her? Call the principal? Tell on her?

"This is your only chance to pass the class, Trisha. Take it off."

What do I do? The cheerleader remained where she was, frozen in panic, her eyes wide and fearful. In a single instant, everything had spiraled so terribly out of control. Why is this happening? Why is he doing this to me??

"Hurry up, Trisha. I said take it off." Mr. Braun was stepping forward now, his arms extended, ready to pull her towards him.

"Wait!" Her voice rang out in the empty classroom, surprising even herself. "Wait, Mr. Braun…I mean…Joe…" Her brain spun as she grasped desperately for a way out. The door was locked, the halls outside were empty. Her teacher stopped, but he looked impatient. She knew he wouldn't wait long. Distract him. Stall him! It was her only hope.

"Please," she said, putting on a sweet smile, and batting her eyes. "We can…take our time, can't we?" She hopped onto the desk behind her, facing him, and crossed her legs, winking naughtily. Oh God…please let this work. Gently, she thrust her chest forward, arching her head back and letting out a low moan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Braun standing in the same place, his eyes wide, his hand silently massaging his crotch. It's working, she thought. He's staying where he is. Now she had to stall him for as long as possible.

Slowly, teasingly, Trisha ran both hands down her body, starting at her neck and shimmying past her shoulders, up and over her firm breasts, down her torso. She smiled sweetly as she gently began to pull her thin pink top up, ever so slightly up. Trisha uncrossed her legs as the fabric slid up to her chest, revealing her taut, tiny midriff. Mr. Braun's eyes were fixed on her slender frame, still standing, not moving. Bit by bit, as slow as possible, the cheerleader tugged her shirt over her chest, revealing her tits, round and snug against a white cotton bra. She slipped the top over her head, shaking her long hair back and forth to free it from the fabric. Smiling sweetly, she tossed her blouse onto the floor and leaned back on the desk, thrusting her chest forward. Mr. Braun's eyes widened as he stared at her breasts. Perched on the desk, the petite cheerleader was gorgeous, thin and slight but curvaceous and full in all the right places.

Trisha let out a soft, sensual moan as she ran her hands across her waist, caressing her naked flesh, gently squeezing her tits through her bra. Then, she hopped off of the desk, and turned around slowly for him, placing her hands on the desk and arching her butt in the air, wiggling it at him. She turned around to look, her heart thumping. It's still working. Keep going , come on…what should I do next?

The cheerleader raised herself on her tippy-toes and bent over, running a hand over each smooth leg, up and down, all the while smiling sweetly at her teacher. Gently, she caught the hem of her skirt with one hand, letting it ride up her thigh, revealing a tiny triangle of her panties. Then, teasingly, she let the skirt flop back down her slender legs. Watching him over her shoulder, Trisha reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. She unsnapped it slowly, letting the straps dangle on her back. Gently, she slipped one shoulder strap, then the other, off of her body, cupping the bra to her chest. She milked every possible second out of the moment, smiling at him; a cute, innocent schoolgirl. Mr. Braun's mouth was slack and open, and though he was standing still, he had unbuckled his pants and let them drop to his ankles. A lump rose in Trisha's throat as she saw his cock, rock-hard, bulging against his underwear. But what could she do? She was trapped now.

Smoothly, she turned back around, her bra still clutched to her chest, the straps dangling uselessly off her body. Just then, the moment hit her. She was stripping for a teacher. Her! Trisha! This is insane! What am I doing? The cheerleader knew that she had to distract him, that she had to stall him for as long as possible, but…This is going too far! And…where did I learn to be such a slut??? The final thought was so overwhelming that Trisha briefly closed her eyes in shame, but Mr. Braun's voice shocked her out of her thoughts.

"Come on, Trisha…show me…show me…" Her teacher was slack-jawed, eyes wide, staring at her as if she was not a teenager but an incredible goddess. His hand was rubbing at his bulging crotch.

Keep stalling! "You want to see them, Joe? You want to see my titties?" She lowered her face to hide it as it flushed with shame. I can't believe I'm doing this…I can't believe I'm saying these things….

"Yeah…fuck yeah." Mr. Braun couldn't take his eyes away from her smooth body. "I want to see them."

Trisha smiled as she arched her back, thrusting her chest forward for him. In the back of her mind, a tiny flutter of confident pride slipped through her shame and confusion. She was sexy…so sexy that her gorgeous body and striptease had somehow made Mr. Braun lose all of his composure. Teasingly, ever-so-slowly, Trisha lifted her hands from her chest, letting the bra fall to the floor. Her C-cup breasts were at full attention, perfectly round and firm, bouncy and bursting out at Mr. Braun. Trisha slid her hands over her chest, cupping each breast in turn, squeezing them, jiggling them in each hand. She watched as Mr. Braun slid a hand into his briefs, absentmindedly beginning to stroke his dick. The cheerleader kept playing with her tits, pressing them together and then apart, taking each one in a handful, then gently running her fingers around her nipples, letting him watch as they danced to her touch. Her breasts had always been extra-sensitive, and the feeling of her soft fingertips grazing against her nipples sent a soft thrill through her spine.

She lazily reached a hand down to the waist of her skirt, playfully tugging it to and fro, teasing him, making him think she was about to take it off. She slipped a finger of her other hand into her mouth, sucking on it, looking up at him with cute, innocent schoolgirl eyes. Then, she bent down and pulled the edge of her skirt up, once again revealing her panties. She grinned as Mr. Braun buried his hand deeper into his underwear, speeding up its stroking. Holding up her skirt with one hand, giving him a full view, she gently began to tug her panties down, sliding them over the generous lobes of her ass and down her slender thighs and knees. Her pussy was open to her teacher now, neatly shaved and pink, tender, looking eager for a hard pounding. Slowly, she slid the panties down, down her legs, until they were around her ankles. Gingerly, she lifted one foot to step out of them, and then daintily kicked with the other, sending the panties flying into Mr. Braun's chest. She smiled at him, batting her eyes, but inside, fear was bubbling inside of her. A panic-inducing thought had just occurred to her; she was rapidly running out of clothes to take off. I'm running out of things to do, she thought. And he's still rock hard…

"Yeah, yeah, Trisha…" Mr. Braun had shoved his briefs to his ankles now, his hard cock out in the open, one hand still jacking off. "Yeah…rub that pussy for me…"

The cheerleader smiled at him. Okay, Mr. Braun. Good idea. She hopped back on the desk, spreading her legs, holding up her skirt to reveal her pink pussy to him. Mr. Braun let out a groan of approval – it looked so soft and tight. Trisha reached a hand down and began to gently knead into her pussy with one finger. Up and down, she stroked her mound, and then pressed slightly into it, feeling the warm flesh in her fingertips.

And then, out of nowhere, a jolt of pleasure tingled through her. Trisha was shocked. The entire time she had been stripping, she had been concentrating only on stalling Mr. Braun, and on trying to figure out an escape plan. She had never even stopped to consider whether she was enjoying herself – it was all about trying to get out of this terrible situation. But now, as she gently rubbed against her twat, she suddenly felt a slight twinge of pleasure, deep in her body, struggling to break through her nervousness and fright.

I'm getting turned on??? Trisha couldn't believe it. It felt so strange and foreign, and yet for some reason she couldn't quite explain, her striptease had excited and thrilled her. She kept pressing gently on her pussy, massaging the lips, parting them with one finger and then squeezing them back shut. Her mind was frazzled, but she couldn't ignore that familiar sensation in her crotch – she was getting wet…

"Yeah, Trisha…yeah…rub that little pussy for me…"

"Oooh.." she cooed back. "Do you like watching me rub my pussy? You like watching a little cheerleader rub her pussy?"

"Yeah…yeah, Trisha…"

Trisha pressed her hand deeper into her wet cunt, feeling her juices, hot and pungent, ready to flow forth. She was wet now, and was losing herself to her pleasure. Her fingers worked away at her pussy lips, gently squeezing and tugging and rubbing. Trisha raised her other hand to her mouth, slipping the fingers between her lips, soaking them with saliva. Then, she reached down, spread her legs wide open, and gently slipped one of the soaked finger into her eager twat.

"Yeah, Trisha…yeah…"

The cheerleader's pussy was soaked now, and her flesh was hot to her touch, tender, aching for more. Gently, Trisha plunged the finger deep into her twat, and despite her situation, despite her fear, her shame, and all of her desperate desire to leave, she couldn't help herself…

"Ohhh…" The moan barely escaped her lips, soft and delicate. Trisha shoved the finger deeper insider of her, rubbing at herself with her other hand, gently working away as her cheeks began to grow rosy with excitement.

The voice in her head was growing fainter and fainter. This…isn't…right. How…can I be getting off…at a time like this? But there was no answer – coherent thought was quickly disappearing from Trisha's mind. She slid a second finger into her tender pussy, feeling the walls of her canal accept it, clamping down on it, and her other hand rubbed upwards, gently grinding her fingertips into her swollen clit.

"Ahh…oh…oh my God…" Trisha tried her best to hide back each moan but they all escaped from her trembling lips. The cheerleader jammed her fingers deep inside of her, each thrust making her body stiffen and tense with pleasure. Her fingertips at her clit were sending tiny shockwaves of pleasure through her pussy, radiating out across her body. The cheerleader closed her eyes, completely lost, gently rocking her body against her hands, moaning softly.

"Ohh…yesss…" She arched her back and let her head fall backward, spreading her legs wider, her feet curling and her shoulders rigid and stiff. She continued to finger-fuck herself, smelling her juices as they dribbled out of her cunt, savoring her warm flesh, hearing the squelch and squash as her hand dug into her twat. It felt so good, so unbelievably, incredibly good, and her entire body tingled with desire. Her chest heaved with her ragged breathing. Her moans became squeals of pleasure, erupting out of her arched head, thrown into the empty classroom.

"Yess..yes…yes…"

And then, all of a sudden, Mr. Braun was there, between her spread legs, his hands on her waist. Trisha raised her head and looked up at him. His eyes seemed glazed over, as if he were possessed. His cock was rock-hard, throbbing with anticipation.

Wait… the voice in her head cried, and Trisha opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. Dazed, out of her mind with horniness, the cheerleader only waited obediently as her teacher eased forward, guiding his cock toward her soaked pussy. The voice in her head was screaming for her to push him off, to run away, but her thrilled, tingling body was not obeying. For a single, hypnotic moment, Trisha felt like a spectator in a movie, yelling at the screen for her body to move, to push him away, but it wouldn't obey, and she could only watch in a dazed horror as her hands mindlessly slid out of the way, exposing her twat for him, open and ready to accept his meat. It was only when the tip of his dick was pressed into her pussy that she managed to force something out.

"Ahhh…Joe…"

Her teacher looked up to meet her gaze, and immediately smirked. Trisha's face was red and flushed, her mouth slack and open. She was panting, and her bright brown eyes were fixated on his throbbing cock. He gently pressed his prick into her pussy lips, and felt the cheerleader's entire body stiffen like a board in response. Her hands tightly gripped the edge of the desk, and she bit down on her lip as she stared, with wide eyes, watching his prick push up against her dripping mound.

Ever so gently, her teacher slid the tip of his dick out, and then back in, feeling her lips engulf the head once more, slipping it just barely against her canal, not quite inside. He watched as the cheerleader tensed a second time, her entire body rigid as she waited for him to plunge into her. Trisha had her eyes closed now and was holding her breath as she waited for it. Still half-horny, still wholly confused, her mind was utterly overwhelmed, unable to digest the situation. All she could do was grit her teeth and wait for him to finally penetrate into her. But it never came.

Mr. Braun had pulled out, and was repeating the same move, gently rubbing the head of his dick into her pussy lips, burrowing into them but refusing to penetrate further. A third time, the cheerleader's body went rigid at the feel of him, and he barely heard a quiet moan escape from her lips.

"Ah…"

Trisha was bewildered and lost, her eyes still closed. Her body was betraying her, stiffening against her will, involuntarily responding to Mr. Braun's cock in completely unexpected ways. Then, Mr. Braun's voice broke through her daze.

"You want my cock, Trisha? You want my cock inside of you?"

Trisha knew what he wanted – more dirty talk. He wanted her to beg for his cock. She opened her mouth – and then something shocking happened, something frightening and mortifying and horrible.

12