[F4M] The Red Pen [Teacher/Student] [Humiliation] [Fdom] [Denial] [Oral] [Script Fill]

Class? Class, settle down. There we go. Much better. Now before we begin today's exam, I have a note, a, letter, if you will, I'd like to share with the class.

No, mister Pierce. It is not the answers to the final, and it never will be. As a senior, you should know that by now. Nevertheless, many of you might find their contents rather interesting. In fact, I have decided that we are going to make a class exercise out of them in place of our usual Friday exam, which will be postponed till after the weekend.

I've removed the name of the letter's recipient as well as the author Some of you might recognize the source. And as we learned last week, critique bias can skew how you view the material in relation to how you would without such knowledge. Quiet, please. Better. While the projector warms up, I have a question for all of you.

To quote Nestor Hathaway, what is love? What is love, class? Is it based on complex emotions, or is it raw physical attraction? Is it a singular defining act or a culmination of physical demonstrations of affection. Is it a result of placing someone before …

Class? Class, settle down. There we go. Much better. Now before we begin today's exam, I have a note, a, letter, if you will, I'd like to share with the class.

No, mister Pierce. It is not the answers to the final, and it never will be. As a senior, you should know that by now. Nevertheless, many of you might find their contents rather interesting. In fact, I have decided that we are going to make a class exercise out of them in place of our usual Friday exam, which will be postponed till after the weekend.

I've removed the name of the letter's recipient as well as the author Some of you might recognize the source. And as we learned last week, critique bias can skew how you view the material in relation to how you would without such knowledge. Quiet, please. Better. While the projector warms up, I have a question for all of you.

To quote Nestor Hathaway, what is love? What is love, class? Is it based on complex emotions, or is it raw physical attraction? Is it a singular defining act or a culmination of physical demonstrations of affection. Is it a result of placing someone before yourself or perhaps something more selfish, possessive even.

The writer of this letter I'm about to show believes they have the answer. The author illustrates their love for the recipient in very vivid terms. But, unfortunately, what possible attraction this letter may have possibly held is ruined by the lack of proper attention to the literary rules we've been learning all semester. In fact, this letter is so filled with such an abject disdain for simple grammar that I believe many of you could do far better. And that, students, is exactly what we are going to do.

You are to read thoroughly as you will all need to contribute at least 1 correction for minimal participation points. 1st hand up gets prime pick of the numerous grammatical and prose errors littering this letter. And there we are. Projector warmed up. Ready?

Go. But what's wrong, class? Don't tell me you can't find anything. Why yes, miss Rose. It is rather explicit language, isn't it?

As I'm sure you all have noticed by now, the authors' attraction to the subject is mostly sexual, using phrases such as take your pussy with my hungry cock. And when I masturbate, I imagine you're in my bed at night, being fucked senseless by me. Truly, the author is sexually attracted to the subject of this letter. Unfortunately, he paints his fantasies on the page with such incompetence, that the whole scene is rather ruined, which is a shame given that the author's imagination is so perverse. This could have been a quite stunning example of explicit literature if not for well, I'd just be repeating myself.

Anyone want the 1st crack of correction? Mister Andreas, brave as usual. Go ahead. Excellently spotted for such a short time to read. The author seems to be having difficulty staying in one particular tense, shifting between present and past as if they were a time traveler.

Well done. Another? Well, correct, mister Thomas. You seem to have yet again singled out the simplest correction to make. Yes.

Pussy is indeed misspelled. Perhaps you'd like to point out another mistake? Oh, misuse of semicolons. Much better, mister Thomas. Mister Reid, you seem to be rather red in the face.

Best. Is this material offending you? Speak up. I can't hear you if you talk to your desk. What?

Well, then would you like to suggest our next critique? No? Well, you better read more carefully. I wouldn't want you to miss anything. Mister Goddard.

Glad to see you contributing to class for once. What would you suggest? Crudely put, but very astute observation. Indeed, if the pacing of the letter had been varied rather than a staccato. Then perhaps the other errors would not seem so prevalent.

Remember, class, using the stream of consciousness style does not excuse improper or abuse of the rules of writing well formed, correct literature. Who's next? The author indeed uses the incorrect version of your multiple times as well as confusing the possessive form of it with the contraction form. Well done, missus Anderson. Still nothing, mister Reid.

Mister Reid, I ask that you do pay attention and look at me when I'm talking to you. I do not appreciate you ignoring this exercise. Miss Luisa, I believe snickering like that indicates you would like to suggest the next mistake. Oh my. That was certainly a scathing remark.

The author even bothered to write this at all? I wouldn't quite say that. Rather, I'd say that this student made the mistake of not taking due care in how he shared his perverted fantasies. Yes. And the author of this letter wasn't data student.

In fact, mister Reed, would you care to come up here? Come on. That's right. Stand right here in the center. Mister Reed, so far, you have refused to offer even a single correction, choosing instead to stare at your desk the entire time.

I know why. But would you mind sharing that with the class? Speak up. I don't believe they can hear you when you mumble like that. Would you rather I send a report detailing the contents of this letter to the office of student affairs?

I didn't think so. Go on. Tell them. That's right because you wrote the letter. Ladies and gentlemen, our licentious author.

Turns out mister Reed here has the hots for teacher, as it were, as I found this note on my desk yesterday. Now I do believe your classmates have offered some very constructive criticism for your writing. It would be rude to not take those suggestions to heart. How would you like to rewrite the letter, but this time, actually make an effort to write it properly based on the critique from your peers. I'm waiting, mister Reid.

Glad you've come around. Start at the beginning. No. No. No.

Dear professor sounds so formal. I much prefer the original doctor hot stuff. What do you think, class? I'd say they agree. Keep going, mister Reid.

Oh, and read it aloud as you write, please. The class can't see your handwriting, and they need to be able to hear. Mister Reed, you keep trying to change the wording. The way you described your dick getting rock hard during class as you stare at my ass while I write on the whiteboard was quite descriptive. It should stay.

Just write it properly. There you go. Much better. Class, just because sexual writings aren't very socially acceptable, That does not give you the excuse to relinquish good technique. After all, some of the most vividly descriptive and well crafted literature of history are scandalous in nature.

Open your books and turn to page 156. I noticed you're wearing cologne and a rather tight shirt today. Did you think you would seduce me later, or do you always try to show off your physique during my class? Your nipples must be getting stiff with how aroused you say you get during my lectures. Do you feel them brushing against your shirt, caressed by the softness of that tight cotton shirt.

Anything he's missed so far, class? Yes. You are correct. That last sentence does indeed contain a dangling participle. If you would like to make the correction, mister Reid?

Now while he writes, I want you all to take a moment to read the 1st paragraph on the page you just opened to. Skinny jeans. How bold of you, showing off those muscular legs of yours. Not to mention that rather auspicious package you're carrying around. All the girls and even a few of the Guys are staring at them with hunger in their eyes.

You just read the importance of studying historical literature. Can any of you recall from our Cradle of Civilization track where archaeologists discovered what we believe are the first written descriptions of sexual behavior as well as summarize their contents. Your breathing seems rather labored, mister Reed. This isn't turning you on, is it? Because I think I see a tiny little speck of wetness in your pants.

Are you a naughty pervert who gets turned on by being humiliated in front of his peers by having your sexual fantasies exposed for all to hear. Look at you. You can't even protest. Yes. Excellently summarized, mister Andres.

How do you all think mister Reid's provision is going? I'd say he's doing much better this time around, though sometimes a little bit of pressure can go a long way towards improving performance. It certainly seems to be helping mister Reid over here. Perhaps I should shorten the time allocation for the essay portion of the final. For now, I want a quick 1 page essay detailing the establishment of literary works pertaining to sexual acts as well as societal responses to such pieces.

Time period can be whatever you wish. Hop to it. I hurt you once. You know? You had rushed out of the room so quickly once class was over.

I'd actually been a little concerned. But when I passed by a nearby empty classroom, much to my surprise, I heard desperate moans and the slap of wet skin against skin. I recognized your voice immediately, b But I had never thought that you were fantasizing about me. What a horny slut you are, So desperate to get yourself off to the image of your teacher that you couldn't even make it to a bathroom or back to your dorm. Everyone done?

Good. Mister Pierce, stop making a fool of yourself. I was only joking. Don't worry. The final will be plenty hard enough without a further diminished time limit.

And I believe with that, Mister Reid has almost completed his revised letter. All he needs to do now is sign it. What's that look for, mister Reid? Go on. Sign it just like you did on the original.

I'm sure the class would love to know that particular finishing touch as I did not include it in the slide. Come on. You've gotten this far. It'd be a shame to leave something you've worked so hard on unfinished. You refuse.

Very well. I shall share it for you. Forever your big horny stud muffin. Now write it. There.

Revision done. And with that, I believe we are out of time. I'll see you on Monday for that exam, and no, mister Pierce, I won't consider delaying it again. Go on. Get out of here.

I'm sure you all have plans for the weekend. Oh? What is it, mister Reid? Why are you glaring at me like that? Are you going to cry?

Oh, I see. You must feel humiliated, having yourself outed like that before the entire class. You will certainly be the talk of the parties tonight, the perverted guy who wrote a smutty love letter to his professor. Back. You look so cute when you pout.

And now you look furious. Back. You're certainly cycling through the phases of denial real fast. What are you trying to deny? I thought it was obvious.

Clearly, you enjoyed that. I mean, look at you. You're so turned on. Your pants are about to rip in half. I can see some precomes starting to soak through.

You've got your hands stuffed in your pockets trying to hide it, but it just makes it look like you are trying to get yourself off. Even after all I just did to you, you still wanna fuck me, don't you, mister Reid? No words of protest. Are you sure you want me to Slide 1 hand up your thigh while my other hand curls around your chin. Tip finger head back so you Can't look away.

Are you sure you want me to better capture those perfect lamps with my own. As I slowly continue to slide my hand up, Lifting your shirt, feeling your muscular chest, letting my breasts Press against your fair skin. You are an eager one. I've barely begun, and you're already fumbling with my skirt. How cute.

Well done. Go ahead. I won't stop you. Yes. I am rather wet, aren't I?

I have you to thank for that after all. Oh, look at you blush. You probably think it's because you're so hot, so perfect for me, but what really turned me on was how you just stood there and took that humiliation. You barely even put up a fight. You know you're a pussy hungry teacher's whore, And you just can't find it in yourself to deny it.

Oh, don't get me wrong. You have a stunning figure. No. Trust me. That's nowhere near your defining feature.

No. Why don't you put that mouth of yours to work? And let's hope your oral skills are better than your written ones. Better. You're far better at this than you are at writing love letters.

I'm just gonna lean back against the table and enjoy your tongue lapping at my pussy. Yes. Just like that. Get your tongue in there nice and deep. Fuck.

Have you done this before? It doesn't matter. Either way, you are great at giving aural mystery. Perhaps I won't fail you after all. Is that seriously so much of a surprise to you that you are failing?

You barely participate in class. Your homework is incomplete, and your test scores aren't satisfactory in the slightest. I always thought you were just spacing out, but now I know that you've been daydreaming about fucking me since day 1. You're not a meathead, mister Reid, but you sure as hell act like 1 sometimes. Though with skills like this, you could afford to be one and still make a decent fun living.

Oh, and trying to get back at me by making me cum with your tongue? You're doing your damn best, that's for sure. Oh, yes. Suck on my cunt, Fondling my sweet ass. Oh.

Oh. Here, fuck me with your free hand. I know you were masturbating with it, but I want your fingers inside of me, mister Reed. Do it. That's a good boy.

And just like that. Feeling your hand covered in my plasit juices is amazing. Look up at me while you get me off. I wanna see that slutty look on your face as you do it. That's right.

There you go. I've had to come. Don't you dare slow it down. Keep going. Faster.

Faster. Make me come with your magic fingers. I'm gonna square it all over that pretty face. I'm about to, well done, mister Reed. Are you satisfied with my taste on your lips and my fluids on your face?

No. Oh, what an insatiable horndog you are. Very well. I shall return the favor. In fact, I'll even give you a choice.

My mouth or my pussy. Which one do you want to stick your thirsty dick in? Go on. Juice. I should have known you wouldn't be satisfied with just my mouth.

Here. Brace yourself against the table. I'll just ease my skirt up a little. Won't take much. I won't even bother sliding my panties off.

A simple brush to the side will do. Now you'll be able to remember this black lace thong as the panties I was wearing when you had sex with your English professor. Did I take you by surprise, mister Reed? I'm sorry I didn't warn you. I thought you'd be ready.

Taking the initiative, I admire that, but don't forget who's in control here. God. Yes. I haven't had sex like this in a while. Yes.

Wave my tits. Pull them. Squeeze them. Pinch those hard nipples. They're moon too lonely or It's a Friday evening.

No one will be here, but I don't want you risking giving us away. Perhaps my fingers won't do it again. That's right. Suck on them. Lick my fingers.

You sound even more turned on when you're muffled. God. You're such a masochist. Do you want me to fuck you harder? Better.

How's this? You like this? You like being teased, humiliated, then roughly fucked by a teacher? You do, don't you? You're rubbing against me as hard as you can, but you still can't seem to get enough of my pussy.

I can feel your cock shoving its way into me, pounding me, hitting my deepest parts. Bites. You're starting to shake. Are you about to come? Well, are you?

I thought so. You wanna come so much, don't you? New June to this day, the whole semester, fantasizing what it would be like when I finally make you scream. If you wanted to cum in my pussy so badly, you can't even bu Focus in class. All you can see is you and me naked as you pound away at me.

Well, Too bad. You don't get to come. Not yet. Well, your face just went through a number of expressions so quickly. I'm actually impressed.

Shock, anger, bewilderment all in the blink of an eye, and now you just look lost and starved. You seem to have forgotten. I am a teacher. I push my students to do their best. I wanna make you a deal.

Mhmm. You are going to pull your grades up. You are going to study hard. You are going to complete every assignment thoroughly. You aren't going to daydream in my class anymore.

You are going to earn at least an 85% in the final if you do all of these things. You should manage to pass my class with at least a b minus, perhaps an a minus if you shoot for the stars. Would you like to shoot for the stars, mister Reid? Do that, and I'll make you come. I'll take you out to dinner and a movie, treat you nicely.

It can be the dream date that you've always envisioned. Then I'll bring you home, and I'll write your dick as much as you want. Most importantly, I'll burn that letter you wrote and put a stop to all those rumors I'm sure have already started about too. But if you don't pass my class with a b minus, I'm going to save it. I won't tell anyone who wrote it, of course, but I won't have to.

You'll go down in history as the legendary guy who tried to fuck his professor and was humiliated in front of his class for it. Seniors will dream of taking this course in hopes of reading that infamous letter. Oh, and, of course, You'll never get a chance to have sex with me ever again, and no amount of seduction will sway me. I promise you that. Sooner we have a deal.

Look at your eyes died of bad as you consider all your options. Panic as you try and figure out the loophole. It's adorable. I believe you have only 1 option here, mister 8. So I say again.

Do we have a deal? Good boy. Now turn around, and let me watch that firm, sway in those tight jeans as you leave. Enjoy your weekend, but not too much.