Failure drives a lot of people to desperation, especially when there’s so much at stake. And you knew this better than anyone, didn’t you? For you, college had always been one challenge after another. From having to work full time, to not really even knowing if your major was worthwhile for you.
But at least you were close to the end. There was just one problem; one final class. And let’s be honest, things weren’t looking good. Sure, you had a good GPA for every other class, but this was your capstone, and failing would mean you have to stay back another year.
You did everything you could think of to pass. You studied harder than you had ever before, you attended all of the office hours, you even took extra hours at work to pay for private tutoring.
But it still didn’t help. Its almost like I had it out for you…
And thats how I found you in my office one night, after you had asked for my earliest possible appointment. I could practically taste the desperation off of you, especially with that tiny outfit you had changed into. I didn’t believe you for a second when you told me you didn’t have time to change.
It was obvious what was on offer, just like so many girls before you. I could see that scared look, how your perfect little body shook. But there was also determination.
Don’t worry, we’ll break that soon enough.
At first I said no, I told you under no circumstances was I going to consider such a thing. It was all for the camera though, the one you couldn’t see. And before long you had left, certain that I wasn’t going to fall for it.
But I came out after you, physically pulling you back in. Something had changed, but you didn’t know what. You just saw the hunger in my eyes, felt the roughness which I pulled you back in.
And after another couple of minutes, we’d have a deal. No one was to hear about this, for both of our sake. But you were going to be my little toy this entire weekend while my wife was out. And in return, id see what I could do about passing you.
You arrived at my house right as her car left, the weekend before the exam. The weekend you were supposed to be studying. But instead of that, you rang my doorbell in nothing but a collar and leash, shaking in the cold air.
I didn’t waste time getting you in, instead pulled you by the arm hard enough to leave bruises. The first of countless others. Soon you were led to an empty room, your collar tied down to a post. You were on all fours, just as instructed, your perfect ass thrust back at me.
I spent hours eating your little pussy, making you cum for me. I needed you wet after all, for what came next. And for what its worth you started to like it, didn’t you pet? You liked how my beard felt against your body, how it tickled your thighs. How it trapped your wetness and brought it to your mouth as I kissed you. You even moaned my name.
Our bodies joined after that, my cock buried inside of you. You even had offered to use your mouth, like I had mine. But I wanted your body, and thats what I took. You moaned like a bitch in heat as I humped into you, my bare, older cock slowly, smoothly entering you before being removed. You whined for it. Too far gone to try and maintain dignity. You even leaked onto my floor as you inevitably came again.
This went on for the entire weekend. You moaning for me, whimpering like a bitch in heat every time you came. Me, flooding your body with my cum. And then it would repeat, only stopping for food, and briefly for sleep.
You felt good about your performance as you limped home late that Sunday, my cum plugged deep inside you. It was my last condition, that you wear that until I saw you next.
The test went as you’d expected it, you obviously failed. But for the first time in your life you weren’t concerned.
Until you got your grade back, that large F plastered prominently on the front page.
You stormed into my office, as I knew you would, as they always did. But all you saw in there was me stroking myself to videos of us. Of each time you came, of each time I flooded your little pussy. There was nothing you could do to convince me to change it. If anyone suspected, they’d see the video of me telling you no, of you leaving. None of the recordings had me in it, or any defining characteristics. You’d just be another girl that wanted to get back at a teacher after failing. Theres always one, isn’t there?
And for those ones, the next year is always the most interesting…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/xn0m6r/40m425f_passing_your_last_class_nc_transactional