“Here,” Ms Temis said, staring down at Jenni. It was a challenge for the teacher to ignore the girl’s obvious egregious violations of the school rules, but the principal had insisted. Ms. Temis’ hawk-like face glowered, her haughty expression showing just how frustrated she was. Her hand held out a small slip of white paper. “This might, perhaps, set you on a more successful path.”

“Ma’am? A more successful path?” Jenni asked in confusion. She reached up and took the paper, unfolding it. In Ms. Temis’ bold script was an address. 

“Her name is Stacy. She does some specialized tutoring for difficult students. I think you qualify,” Temis sniffed. “Your grades are fine, though how you manage to pass your classes with your daily antics I have no idea. Still, your grades are important. Failure will have catastrophic results, so we need to make sure you are doing the best you can.”

Jenni looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Um… Ms. Temis?” She bit her lip embarrassingly. “I can’t… I mean… I don’t have the money”

Ms. Temis held up her hand. “Multiple tutoring sessions have been arranged, so you do not need to supply any funding. Just go, immediately after school.” 

Jenni blinked. “Oh,” she said. Then she smiled. “Thank you,” she said with complete honesty.

Ms. Temis smirked. The girl didn’t know what she was getting into. “Don’t thank me yet, girl. Just go.”

Jenni nodded. “Yes ma’am. I will, ma’am.” 

“And just to be clear, tutoring is still considered a school function. Stacy is, of a sort, junior faculty under these circumstances. You will follow her orders and all school rules apply.”

Jenni nodded as she stood up. “Yes ma’am,” she said obediently as she shouldered her bag and headed out into the hall. It felt a little strange to be leaving Ms. Temis’ class like that, but with only one more class to go, Jenni felt strangely at ease. Indeed, the seventh period went even smoother and by the time the last bell rang she almost suspected that multiple teachers were invested in her success. How else to explain the lack of discipline? 

And there certainly had been a lack. Jenni had shown up that morning wearing one of her signature skirts, a blue and white plaid number that she had hemmed much shorter than regulations allowed. That in and of itself should have resulted in a trip to the principal’s office, but it had been ignored. Worse, not a single one of her instructors had instigated a random “panty” check, to ensure that she was wearing the appropriate undergarments. It left Jenni feeling a tad bit disappointed that no one had caught her blatant disregard of the school rules. Or any of her other naughty violations. Even the half-hour she spent in the boy’s restroom, on her knees, had apparently gone unnoticed. Except by that one young man who she’d found there. But then, he’d been a beneficiary of her prurient and disobedient ways.

She checked the address. Stacy’s house wasn’t that far away from the school and Jenni walked straight there, her bookbag slung over one shoulder. The neighborhood was nice, though the homes were small and somewhat worn looking. Finally she got to a white painted home with green trim and well manicured landscaping. The house number matched the slip of paper she had and she climbed the front steps onto the porch. 

Honestly, she didn’t know why she needed tutoring in the first place. Her grades were fine, even without pressuring instructors to increase her scores. Granted, if she wasn’t so distracted, she might have even better grades, but she spent most of each school day dealing with the consequences of her constant rule breaking. She shook her head. Tutoring? Pressing the doorbell, Jenni took a small step back, feeling a mixture of resignation and continued disappointment. 

The door swung open and a blonde girl with huge blue eyes appeared. She had a very round face that made her look sweetly cute, rather than model pretty. Her uniform was perfect, at least, perfectly in compliance with the school regulations and she stepped back, eyeing Jenni’s attire with a critical eye. 

“They weren’t kidding, were they?” She asked with a casualness that belied her judgemental tone. “I was told you like to skirt the edge, but that skirt is actually crossing the line.” 

Jenni glanced down at her skirt and blinked. “Excuse me?”

Stacy took a step back, clearly making way for Jenni to enter. “Your uniform. There’s daring, and then there’s indecent. You can’t possibly claim that you’re unaware that half of your ass is hanging out, which means it's a choice.” She paused, then rolled her eyes. “Well? Come in.”

Jenni frowned in confusion but then stepped into the house. The foyer opened up onto a small living room. A couch, two sitting chairs, and a small coffee table were perfectly positioned in front of a stone fireplace. Beyond was the entrance to a small galley kitchen, and a side door to what Jenni suspected was the laundry room. Straight ahead was a hallway and Stacy turned and headed deeper into the house. She raised her hand and gestured for Jenni to follow.  

“If you need to use the bathroom, do it now,” the older girl ordered, pointing to a small lavatory. Jenni blushed but then shook her head.

“I went before leaving school,” she said quietly.

Stacy shrugged. “Whatever. In here,” she ordered, pushing on a door. Jenni proceeded into the bedroom and then froze in shock as she looked around.

First, the walls were painted black. Posters, or maybe actual paintings, of dark and somewhat frightening forest scenes hung on several of the walls. A twin bed stood in one corner, black sheets tucked in tightly. A plush Hello Kitty lay against the pillow, but it was one of the black dressed versions, complete with spiked collar and holding a simulated crop. A black desk with a computer sat in the far corner, along with not one, but two office chairs. 

Jenni looked around, somewhat shocked.

“I know,” Stacy said, coming in behind Jenni, shutting the door. “No one expects me to be a goth.” She walked over to one of the office chairs and sat down, crossing her arms. She gave Jenni an expectant look. “This will be a two hour session, so let’s get started.” Her eyes flickered down Jenni’s body, then glanced at the other chair. “Sit down.” 

Jenni set her bag down on the floor, then sat. The chair was leather and quite comfortable, if a little wide, as if meant for a much bigger person. The padded armrests were a bit too high for her. She bit her lip and crossed her ankles, knees together as she faced Stacy. 

The senior girl eyed her. Then she turned, opened one of the desk drawers, and extracted a roll of black duct tape. Jenni blinked as Stacy tore off a two foot strip. 

“Wrists on the armrests please,” Stacy ordered.

Jenni’s eyes widened. “What... what are you going to do?” She stammered.

”What does it look like?” Stacy said with a roll of her eyes, holding up the tape, as if it was obvious. “Securing you.”

Jenni gulped. “But… but why? I thought this was a tutorial!”

Stacy leaned forward, eyes intense. “Didn’t Temis explain this to you?”

Jenni bit her lip. “She said to follow your orders.”

“Then do it,” Stacy demanded. “Wrists on the armrests.” 

Gingerly, Jenni lifted her hands and put them on the armrests. It forced her to stretch a bit. Stacy grabbed the strip of duct tape and without a word, wrapped Jenni’s right wrist up with the plastic frame of the chair. Then she grabbed the roll and tore off another length. Jenni quivered as her left wrist was bound and she pulled, testing the tape. Evidently Stacy was familiar with the process, as there was nothing Jenni could do to get free. She was firmly and frighteningly stuck. 

“Now, your legs,” Stacy declared. “Lift your feet, spread your legs, and rest them right on top of your hands.” Jenni stared. Stacy rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m authorized to punish you for disobedience, as well as any other violations of school regulations, so if you want, we can do this the hard way.”

Jenni blushed crimson, her knees still tightly pressed together. Stacy glanced down and then smiled in realization. “If you’re concerned about me discovering that you aren’t wearing panties, well... it’s common knowledge that you usually go commando.” She reached out, put a hand on Jenni’s knee, and pushed. A gap appeared.

“That’s it. Open up. Show it to me. Spread them. Yes. Now lift. Put your leg on the armrest. That’s it. Oh. Oh my,” Stacy said, watching as Jenni lifted her legs, spreading them obscenely wide. Her skirt rode up, her black pumps and white knee socks dangling in the air to either side of the chair.

Stacy’s eyes flickered down to Jenni’s exposed sex. It was beautifully shaved, the pink folds perfect and full, her clit slightly exposed and extended from under the clitoral hood, and she was wet. Soaked even. Dripping. Stacy grinned. “Well, that’s going to be hard to resist.” She grabbed the tape, exposed a ten inch length, and then began wrapping Jenni’s knees to the armrest as well.   

“Why do I need to be tied up?” Jenni asked as all freedom of movement was taken from her. 

Stacy finished binding both legs. “I’m a tutor that believes in a carrot and stick sort of approach. Your carrot and stick are a little more perverted than some others, so I’m making sure that you don’t get to manipulate the situation.” She grabbed Jenni’s right foot and tugged off her shoe, dropping it to the side. The other followed and then Stacy peeled Jenni’s socks downward, exposing her cute little bare feet. 

“What are you going to do to me?” Jenni asked nervously. Being exposed in such a demeaning fashion in front of another person wasn’t that unsettling, but being tied helplessly was creating some very intense reactions. 

Stacy, satisfied with her pupil’s disposition, leaned back. “I’m helping you study. Today it’s economics. Tomorrow is History. Wednesday we’re doing Literature. I’ve got a full list of study questions. So we’ll go over those.” 

Jenni bit her lip. “Okay,” she said nervously. Stacy’s eyes flickered down to the bound girl’s outstretched loins and she smiled. Slowly, the tutor reached over to the desk and opened the drawer. Her hand disappeared into its depths and then pulled something out. A bottle. The label had pictures of vanilla beans on it and Stacy uncapped it, then produced a small shallow bowl. 

“Don’t worry,” she said to Jenni. “It’s just vanilla oil.” She poured some of the fluid into the bowl, then put the bottle back into the drawer. A paint brush came next, long and about an inch wide. Stacy held it up. “Soft bristles. I promise.” 

Jenni blinked and Stacy dipped the brush into the bowl of oil, then brought it over to the bottom of Jenni’s right foot. Jenni twitched as the feather light caress left a glistening line along her sensitive arch. Then, as Jenni clenched her teeth against the tickling sensation, Stacy moved the bristles to the insole. Back and forth the brush swirled, but just before the sensation became overwhelming, Stacy pulled the brush away and set it down in the bowl of oil. Then her hand dipped into the drawer again and she pulled out a massive, rubber dildo. 

It was almost a foot long and quite thick, making Jenni gasp slightly. Stacy’s eyes narrowed slightly as she noted Jenni’s reaction and she set the toy down on the desk too. Then came a plastic ziplock bag, filled to the brim with wooden and plastic clothespins. Jenni was quite familiar with those, as Ms. Temis had several containers worth on her desk at In-School-Suspension. Stacy continued producing tools, almost as if she were gauging Jenni’s reaction to each one. 

The bulbed massager made Jenni look eager, while the two different vibrators drew similar reactions. But when Stacy set the spiked pinwheel down on the desk, multiple rows of sharp little needles sticking out from the roller, the expression on Jenni’s face confused her. 

Excitement. Mixed with apprehension.

Things only got worse as Stacy added a small container of rubber bands, twine, a white wax candle, and a box of matches. And as Stacy produced the small leather sap, its flat business end perfect for paddling the exposed slit of the little schoolgirl bound in front of her, Jenni’s arousal had become rather obvious.

Stacy struck a match and lit the candle, watching the guttering flame flicker. She shook out the match and set it aside. Then she looked back at Jenni and frowned, her eyes finding Jenni’s soaked petals. “You’ve spent too much time being brainwashed at In-School-Suspension,” she muttered.

“What?” Jenni asked breathlessly.

Stacy shook her head. “Let’s begin.” She pulled a sheaf of papers out of the drawer and set them on the desk, along with a pen. “Alright. You’ve read the assigned work, right?”

Jenni nodded, staring at the tutor between her outstretched legs and over her glistening wet pussy. 

“Cool. So question one. How does Thomas Sowell define economics? A) The study of stock markets and financial wealth. Or B) The study of the use of scarce resources which have alternative uses?”

Jenni blinked. “Um… B?” She responded. 

Stacy smiled warmly. “That’s right! I know that was an easy one, but I want to make sure you understand the stakes.”

“The stakes?”

Stacy nodded. “Yes. Because when you answer a question correctly, I’m going to do something like this.” She grabbed the paint brush, dipped it into the bowl of vanilla scented oil, swirled it around to soak the bristles, then brought it quickly back to Jenni before it could drip. Without another word, Stacy gently, but firmly, began to stroke Jenni’s soft clit with the oiled brush.

Pleasure surged through Jenni and she let out a groan as her clitoris was stimulated. Her eyes rolled up into her head and her sex tightened. She thrust her hips forward but Stacy was already looking back at the paper. Not that asking the next question stopped her from caressing Jenni’s little nub. The paintbrush continued to swirl around the sensitive point, distracting Jenni horribly.

“According to Sowell’s research in Affirmative Action Around the World, what is a common empirical result of preferential policies?” Stacy asked, still teasing Jenni’s pussy. “A) They primarily benefit the most disadvantaged members of the preferred group. Or B) They often primarily benefit well-off members of the preferred group and increase intergroup animosity.”

Jenni quivered. “Wha… what?” 

The brush stopped for a moment and Stacy rolled her eyes. “This is going to be hard if I have to repeat every question. You have to pay attention,” she chided. The brush began moving again, stroking Jenni’s clit. “You need to focus.” 

Jenni’s toes curled. “I am… focused.”

“On the wrong thing,” Stacy retorted, except the oiled soft bristles continued to tease Jenni’s pussy. “Now answer.” She repeated the question.

Jenni gulped. She knew the answer. She’d read the book. The answer was B. She looked at Stacy directly. 

“A,” Jenni whispered. 

The brushing of Jenni’s clit stopped immediately. For a moment, Stacy suspected something, but then she pulled the paintbrush away from Jenni’s exposed pussy. 

“I’m sorry,” Stacy said simply. “That’s wrong.” The paintbrush dropped into the bowl, the bristles soaking up more oil. Then Stacy picked up the leather paddle. “Brace yourself.” Then she slapped the paddle down hard on Jenni’s pussy.

The stroke the tutor left between Jenni’s legs elicited a powerful cry from the bound girl and made both of Jenni’s feet kick. The hot sting exploded through her, but then morphed into a spreading warmth that only made Jenni even more desperate. Jenni mewled her hips thrusting upward as Stacy held the paddle above Jenni’s slit, a look of indecision on her face. For a moment it looked like she was going to give the girl another blow, or even a series of them, but then Stacy put the paddle back down and leaned over the paper again.

“What term does Sowell use to describe minority groups who have faced historical persecution but thrived economically due to high human capital? A) High-yield minorities. B) Insulated subcultures. Or C) Middleman minorities?”

Jenni, her body still trembling from the stroke to her pussy, gulped. “C!” She blurted out.

Stacy grinned. “Exactly!” She picked up the massager, turning it on so that it hummed loudly. Then she pressed the rumbling soft bulb against Jenni’s sex, mashing hard on the apex, so that Jenni’s freshly oiled, brushed, and spanked clitoris was right underneath the shaking end.

Jenni cried out in pleasure, surging and pressing up. She felt the sexual pressure inside her blossoming, intensifying, doubling. She wanted to cum. But then, after just a few seconds of stimulation, Stacy pulled the massager away, turning it off. She leaned over the paper again to read the next question.

“Why do you like being stripped naked in front of everyone at school, being used and treated like a sex object?” Stacy asked in exactly the same tone as all the other questions, even as she set down the massager. 

The question shocked Jenni. “I’m… I’m sorry… what?”

“I don’t like repeating myself, Jenni.” Stacy said, picking up the sap. Jenni’s eyes widened and she began to stammer, but it was too late. Stacy flicked her wrist and the leather paddle once more slapped into Jenni’s exposed pussy. A sharp crack filled the little bedroom at the same time a hot, burning sting surged through Jenni’s loins. But like before, it morphed into a delicious heat that only made the sexual fires within her burn hotter.

Stacy spoke slower this time. “I asked why you like being stripped naked in front of everyone at school, being used and treated like a sex object?” Stacy repeated.

Jenni trembled, her pussy a hot, wet, stinging mess. “Um… I… don’t… know,” She gasped. 

Stacy’s eyebrow went up. “You don’t know?” She asked incredulously. “You come to school every day deliberately wearing a skirt that’s too short, which invites anyone on the faculty to not only give your ass a nice paddling, but encourages them to do a panty check.” Her hand picked up the paintbrush again and she brought it quickly down on Jenni’s pussy. This time she didn’t just stroke the oil over Jenni’s clit. She teased the entire length of Jenni’s slit, painting all the way down to her perineum, and then even dabbed the vanilla scented oil into Jenni’s little star. 

“And when they discover you aren’t wearing any,” Stacy continued, swirling the brush in a circle, “you get a hard pussy spanking.” She ran the brush back up through Jenni’s petals, up to her clit, and began painting the sensitive nub again. “Of course, not wearing panties means they’ll check to see if you aren’t wearing a bra, discovering your tits are just as bare as your cunt, that earns you a whipping across the chest. Usually in front of your fellow students, presuming you aren’t already at In-School-Suspension, where the punishment for being a disobedient little fuckslut is to get stripped naked, bound in some extremely uncomfortable position, get your pussy, ass, and nipples overstimulated, clamped and beaten.” 

But Jenni was barely listening. 

“Which only rewards and reinforces your like of being a disobedient fuckslut.” Stacy pulled the brush away, setting it down on the desk. Then she grabbed one of the rubber bands and slid it over Jenni’s left foot. The wide blue rubber strand settled in the delicate arch, exactly mid-center. Jenni blinked, groaning softly. 

“So why?” Stacy asked a third time.

“Because… because I like it?” Jenni replied. 

“You like it,” Stacy repeated, her fingers slipping beneath the rubber band, nails sliding against the delicate arch on the underside of Jenni’s foot. “You like being humiliated and punished.” Stacy pulled the elastic band away from Jenni’s sole. Further and further, stretching it out several inches.

Jenni gulped and nodded frantically. “Yes! Yes! I like it!” 

Stacy’s mouth curled up at the edges. “Good.” Then she let go.

The rubber band snapped back into place, one side of the loop impacting hard against the arch of Jenni’s foot. It stung, but only lightly, and Jenni jerked. 

Stacy left the rubber band alone and once more grabbed the paintbrush. Jenni gasped in delight as Stacy dipped it in the oil and then went straight for her clit. “In Knowledge and Decisions, Sowell emphasizes that the primary advantage of a free-market price system is its ability to: A) Allow central planners to track consumer habits. B) Articulate and communicate vast amounts of scattered knowledge through prices. Or C) Keep prices as low as possible indefinitely.”

It was too much for Jenni. “I’m… I’m sorry… what were the options… again?” 

Stacy lifted the paintbrush away from Jenni’s pussy. “Jenni. I told you. Focus. I don’t like to repeat myself.” The tutor set down the brush and picked up the spiked pinwheel. It wasn’t a single row of spikes. This one had five, making it broad. Stacy set it against Jenni’s flesh, just to the side of Jenni’s clit. Jenni whimpered, shaking but Stacy smiled. “I’ll read them off to you again.” But as Stacy said it, she rolled the pinwheel sideways and the sharp little spikes wheeled right over Jenni’s clit. 

“A) Allow central planners to track consumer habits. B) Articulate and communicate vast amounts of scattered knowledge through prices. Or C) Keep prices as low as possible indefinitely.”

The sharp prickling on her clit, then down her labia, were too much for Jenni. “I… I don’t know!” She squealed, pulling back, then pushing her hips forward. Her toes curled and her feet kicked a bit as Stacy moved the sharp little spiked roller back and forth over Jenni’s nub. 

Stacy sighed and shook her head. “Well, I suppose it had to happen,” she said, sounding almost sad. She pulled the pinwheel away from Jenni’s slit and set it down. “The correct answer, by the way, is B. To articulate and communicate vast amounts of scattered knowledge through prices.” As she said it, she grabbed the bag of clothespins and opened it up, extracting a pair of  wooden pegs. She stood up, reached through Jenni’s outstretched legs and began unbuttoning Jenni’s shirt.

“What… what are you doing?” Jenni panted.

“Punishing you,” Stacy said simply. She flicked the shirt open and shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. No bra. But look at those nipples. I’m kind of surprised they aren’t pierced.” She pinched open the first clothespin and positioned it directly over the pink tip of Jenni’s right tit, then let it close.

Jenni winced and hissed as the wooden pincer locked down on her nipple. First came the biting pain, but as Stacy moved to the other breast, Jenni felt the throbbing as her heart labored to push blood into the crushed nub. The second clothespin opened, then clamped down on the soft areola, pinching the tender point and Jenni grimaced, chest heaving as Stacy sat back down.

“Next question. Which hole do you like having filled the most?”

Jenni, quivering from the overload of sensation, repeated the question dumbly. “That’s... that’s an economic’s question? Which hole?”

Stacy nodded. “You have three of them,” she said sarcastically. “Presuming you don’t let people fuck you in the nose and ears.”

Jenni’s eyes flickered around. Her pussy was tingling desperately and her nipple throbbed from the pressure of the clothespins. “My pussy? I guess?” 

Stacy nodded, grabbed the huge dildo, and turned back to Jenni. The tutor pressed the large tip against Jenni’s oiled pussy and began pushing, thrusting the massive rubber rod deep into Jenni’s body. Jenni cried out, her head rolling back as she closed her eyes, the acute pleasure of being penetrated radiating through her entire tiny frame. Her feet kicked a little as Stacy began pumping the thing in and out slowly. 

Very slowly. Frustratingly slowly. 

“True or False?” Stacy asked, not stopping for even a second. “In Basic Economics, Sowell argues that price controls, such as rent control or minimum wage laws, usually cause unintended shortages or surpluses because they disrupt the natural equilibrium of supply and demand.”

Jenni barely heard her. Each stroke of the dildo being pumped was too much. “F-f-false?” She muttered, guessing.

Stacy took a deep breath. “Oh. I’m sorry. But that one was true.” Stacy pulled the dildo out of Jenni, generating a mewl of disappointment and need. The tutor dropped the soaked rubber rod on the desk and picked up her paddle. Jenni realized what was about to happen and stiffened, but it did nothing to stop Stacy from snapping her wrist and leaving a sharp, burning stroke right on Jenni’s soaked slit.

“Aggggghhhh!” Jenni squealed, her high-pitched voice filling the room. Her back arched and she thrust upward. Stacy eyed the girl’s pink pussy and almost hit her again, just because of the way she was acting. 

“Maybe intensity is not the way to go with you,” Stacy mused. She set the paddle down. “Jenni, when you are desperate, would you rather be tormented with someone’s tongue, or get your pussy spanked with a paddle?”

Jenni, panting hard, her nipples throbbing, her pussy still hot and stinging, shook her head. “I’m… I’m not sure.”

Stacy rolled her eyes. Then smiled. “Here, let me demonstrate.” She suddenly leaned forward, buried her face between Jenni’s outstretched legs, and put her mouth right over Jenni’s clitoris. First she sucked, dragging the spanked, vanilla flavored nub into her mouth, her tongue rolling it around. Jenni groaned, shaking, only for Stacy to let it go and then begin lapping at it, like it was an ice cream cone. Jenni quivered, her eyes closing with ecstasy as she felt the sexual pressure quadruple. For over a minute Stacy licked, teasing and tormenting Jenni.

When she pulled her head up, Jenni was too lost in the sensation to ready herself. Waves of acute bliss had left the girl almost senseless with pleasure and her entire pussy was tingling. Then the leather sap came down hard, spanking the exact same spot Stacy had just been licking. But not once. Or even twice. Stacy left over a dozen hard strokes, turning Jenni’s sodden swamp into a steaming morass of sexualized pain. The width of the small paddle was almost exactly the perfect fit to cover Jenni’s entire pussy and the wet slapping sound mixed with Jenni’s squeals of discomfort and heat.

And something else. 

Stacy pulled back and Jenni cried out even louder. 

“No! Please! Don’t!” 

Stacy froze, just a little confused. “Don’t? Don’t what?”

“STOP!” Jenni pleaded. “Don’t stop!” Her hips wriggled desperately.

“Stop? You want me to lick you again?”

Jenni’s wild eyes glanced at the paddle and Stacy blinked, glanced at the leather sap, then Jenni’s pussy. “Damn girl. You really are a fucked up masochist, aren’t you?”

Jenni nodded frantically. “Yes! YES!”

Stacy considered that, then put down the paddle, ignoring the whine of desperation that came from her student. “True or False. Sowell contends that ‘intentions’ are the most reliable metric by which to judge the effectiveness of economic policies.”

Jenni stared at Stacy, her body a riot of sensation. “W-what?” 

Stacy sighed. “I told you I don’t like to repeat myself.” Her hand went out to Jenni’s right foot. Stacy’s fingers snagged the rubber band and before Jenni could reach, she tugged the elastic outward and let it go. A sharp snap impacted against Jenni’s arch and she kicked, still gasping as her body continued to ripple with sexual need. 

Stacy stood up, grabbing hold of both the spool of twine and the dildo. 

“I heard that you were once caught in the restroom with a line of boys waiting to fuck you.” She pressed the huge dildo against Jenni’s slit and pushed.

Jenni’s eyes widened as she was penetrated and she nodded. “Yes! Yes! Oh fuck yes!” 

Stacy slid the rubber cock all the way in, then brought her leg forward, jamming her thigh into Jenni’s crotch. Jenni groaned, then whimpered at the pressure. Unrolling the end of the twine, Stacy began tying it to the clothespin on Jenni’s right nipple. 

“Are you proud of that?” She asked curiously. 

“P-p-proud?” Jenni asked, wincing as Stacy’s fingers made the clothespin wiggle painfully. 

“Yes. Proud. I mean you have literally fucked the majority of the males in the school. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve done the entire cheerleading team, volleyball team, and dance teams.” She twisted, keeping her leg jammed up against Jenni’s sopping wet and dildo stuffed pussy and reached to the desk. She yanked open a drawer, grabbed a pair of scissors, and turned back. 

“Which means you’ve probably fucked almost half of the female student body as well.” Stacy snipped the twine, then put both the spool and the scissors back on the desk. “How does that make you feel?”

Jenni quivered. “G-good?”

“You like being a slut?” Stacy asked, grabbing the twine and stretching it down toward Jenni’s foot. It pulled on the clothespin and Stacy could see the wooden peg jiggling, straining the flesh it was biting. She grabbed Jenni’s foot and pushed the toes upward and back, then quickly looped the twine between Jenni’s toes. 

“Yes,” Jenni whispered. 

Stacy turned and looked. It was the clearest, most intense answer the girl had given since they started and Stacy saw that Jenni’s eyes were wide, focused, and very intense. She hesitated for a moment, then finished the knot. Jenni would still be able to move her foot, but kicking would undoubtedly cause the clothespin to be painfully ripped off her nipple. 

“Wiggle your toes,” Stacy ordered.

Jenni bent her toes and then groaned, wincing as the twine tightened, pulling on her nipple. But then she shuddered, toes still twitching. It was almost as if she were deliberately making the clothespin twist and pull on her tit. 

Stacy sat back down, her hand grabbing the dildo and she pulled it out of Jenni’s sex. Jenni let out an almost pained sound, her hips thrusting desperately. Stacy reached for the paintbrush, dipped in the oil again, and leaned toward Jenni’s slit. Avoiding the girl’s clitoris, she began painting Jenni’s labia with the vanilla oil again, working her way down to Jenni’s little brown star. “I asked you to tell me if Sowell’s contention that "intentions" are the most reliable metric by which to judge the effectiveness of economic policies is true or false.” Stacy continued to tease Jenni’s lower opening, swirling the brush around in a circle and dipping into the center.

Jenni clenched her teeth. “Please! Please Stacy!” She groaned and thrust her hips forward desperately.

“You want more, answer the question,” Stacy said, dragging the soft brush upward through the girl’s slit and right over the sensitive apex. It was obvious that Jenni wanted, no needed, something more.

“IT’S FALSE!” Jenni squealed. “He… he… says… consequences!” 

Stacy nodded and grinned. “There we go. You figured it out.” She lifted the brush away from Jenni’s clit and picked up one of the vibrators. Stacy twisted the bottom, turning it on, and without a word, slid it deep into Jenni’s pussy.

Jenni’s eyes rolled up into the back of her head and her body jerked as the vibrations surged through her. 

“What’s the best position to fuck you in?” Stacy asked. Her hand began pumping the vibrator, working it in and out. Jenni mewled, her head lolling to the side. “Jenni, I asked you a question,” Stacy repeated. She pulled the vibrator out and set it to the side. Then she picked up the pinwheel. Again.

“Nooo!” Jenni groaned again. She couldn’t keep still. Her right foot twisted, pulling on the twine almost enough to pop the clothespin off her breast. 

Stacy didn’t hesitate. She gently set the spiked pinwheel against Jenni’s sex, down at the bottom end along the slick, oiled labia. Jenni squealed as Stacy began rolling it upward, straight for Jenni’s clit. “Then answer the question. What position should a slut like yourself be in for the best fuck?”

The sharp little pricks made Jenni quiver madly and she closed her eyes, arching her back. “T-t-tied! Tied! Open! Spread legs… vuln… vulnerable.”

Stacy nodded, but her hand didn’t stop. The pinwheel rolled up, right into the sensitive, swollen top of Jenni’s slit, the sharp pins pricking the girl’s nub. Jenni’s cry filled the room as Stacy stopped at the top, then rolled it back down over the same spot. 

“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhhh!” Jenni shrieked, especially when Stacy went back up, for the third time rolling the pinwheel over Jenni’s clit. Then the tutor pulled the pinwheel away as Jenni struggled against the tape holding her open and to the chair. 

“I’d like you to briefly explain the difference between "scarcity" and a "shortage" according to Sowell.”

Jenni stared at Stacy, panting. “Um… uh…”

Stacy picked up the vibrator and turned it on.

“Scarcity is…” Jenni whispered, only for her answer to get converted to a groan as the rumbling phallus slid into her pussy. 

“Gotta answer,” Stacy warned, slowly pumping the vibrator in and out. 

“Scarcity… is… scarcity…” Jenni repeated, waves of ecstasy surging through her body.

Stacy suddenly bent down, her face slipping between Jenni’s thighs, and the hot, warm sensation of her mouth surrounded Jenni’s clit. Stacy’s tongue lapped at the tender nub. Jenni gasped and groaned, thrusting upward. Her body tightened and Jenni felt herself ripening, the climax she was desperate for just barely out of her grasp. 

“SCARCITY!” Jenni cried out, arching her back.

Stacy’s mouth came up off Jenni’s clit. “Too late,” she said simply, yanking the vibrator out of Jenni’s pussy.

“NO!” Jenni bleated in absolute frustration. “Scarcity is…” but Stacy’s hand, holding the leather sap, flashed down with a vicious, blistering spank. It landed right on Jenni’s pussy, hot and heavy.

“Argggggh!” Jenni screamed, kicking. The twine between her right foot and nipple snapped tight and the clothespin went flying, barely missing Stacy, who ducked to the right. The tutor leaned back, watching as a series of tremors rocked the girl in front of her. Methodically, Stacy put the sap back down and picked up vibrator. 

“Jenni, define scarcity and shortage,” Stacy repeated. She turned the vibe on again, except this time, when she brought it up to Jenni’s exposed crotch, she pointed it lower, at the oiled brown star of Jenni’s bottom. 

“Scarcity is…” Jenni managed, just as Stacy pressed the shaking vibrator against Jenni’s ass. Jenni gasped, then clenched as Stacy began pushing. The oil and girl goo on both the vibe and Jenni’s bottom made the tightening movement of Jenni’s sphincter pointless and Stacy slid over half the toy into Jenni’s rump. Stacy reached for Jenni’s right foot, snagging the rubber band and pulling.

“Scarcity is there not being enough of something because it doesn’t exist!” Jenni squealed. But it was too late. Stacy let the rubber band snap back against the sole of Jenni’s foot, eliciting a gasp.

“Finish the definition,” Stacy ordered, her fingers already pulling on the rubber band again. 

“A shortage is when the supply is held up, either deliberately or by process!” Jenni squealed. But answering didn’t stop Stacy. She let the rubber band snap again, making Jenni hiss and twitch. 

““How often do you get fucked up the ass per week?” Stacy asked, her hand pumping the vibrator in and out of Jenni’s butt. 

Jenni groaned, her eyelids fluttering. “By someone else or by myself?” She managed to gasp.

Stacy blinked. “Oh. You’re one of those, huh? Okay, let’s start with getting butt fucked by others. How often?”

Jenni shuddered as the vibrator continued to move in and out of her ass. “About a dozen times a week!” 

Stacy’s look of shock was impressive. “You get buttfucked twelve times a week?”

Jenni nodded, head lolling as Stacy kept pushing the vibrator in and out. 

“Is that in conjunction with getting pussy pounded, or are these separate fucks?” Stacy punctuated the question by continuing to pump the vibrator.

Jenni blinked, struggling to answer the question “Um…” 

Stacy sighed and rolled her eyes. “Answer the question.” 

“I’m… I’m… not…” 

Stacy stood and once more jammed her leg against Jenni’s crotch, holding the vibrator in place and even driving it deeper into Jenni’s ass. She grabbed the twine still attached to Jenni’s toes and pulled upward, the twine slipping through her fingers as the clothespin, which was on the floor, shot up to her hand. Then Stacy reached up and put the clothespin back on Jenny’s right nipple, tugging on her foot in the process.

“Unnnhhh!” Jenni mewled.

Stacy grinned wickedly. With her fingers still on the clothespin, she twisted it almost a full one-hundred and eighty degrees, the little nub still trapped between the maws. Jenni screeched and thrust upward with her hips, unable to move more than an inch because of the duct tape holding her to the chair. 

“I get it. You have no clue. Why? Because you’re a brainless fuck slut. So let’s move to a different question. Do you prefer getting fucked in the front door or the back door?” Stacy continued to twist the clothespin back and forth, sending shards of pain down through Jenni’s chest. “Or in that sweet little mouth?”

“Front,” Jenni breathed with a pained look. Her bottom lip trembled and Stacy let off some of the pressure. But not all of it.

“Are you certain? You seem unsure,” Stacy teased, still twisting the clothespin a bit. 

Jenni nodded frantically. “I like getting fucked everywhere, but it feels the best up front! Most of the time.”

Stacy let go of the clothespin and stepped back. Her thigh, which had been pressing hard on the vibrator in Jenni’s ass, moved and allowed the toy to slide outward. Stacy grabbed it quickly, dumped it on the desk, and sat back down. 

“If the government imposes a legal price floor on an agricultural product that is set above the market equilibrium price, what is the most likely result?” Stacy asked, picking up the dildo. 

Jenni, still shuddering, stared at Stacy blankly. 

“Jenni,” Stacy said seriously. “Focus.” 

Jenni blinked. “Price…imposes… agriculture… results?”

Stacy sighed, pointed the dildo straight at Jenni’s gaping wet slit, and pushed it in hard and fast. Then she began to pump it rapidly. “I asked,” she repeated, hand jacking the rubber rod deep into Jenni’s sex, “what would happen if the government imposed a legal price floor on an agricultural product.” 

But Jenni was too close. Her eyes were rolling up into the back of her head and her teeth were clenched. She let out a panicked whine, toes curling.

“You better not cum,” Stacy warned. “You won’t like the consequences.” Her hand continued to pump. “Or maybe you will. Either way, answer the damn question!” 

“Ughh! Ugghhh!” Jenni crooned, shaking.

Stacy yanked the dildo out with a snarl and grabbed the leather sap. The wide end slapped down onto the hot pink gash and Jenni squealed, thrusting upward.

“What… would… happen… if…the… government…” Stacy practically shouted, striking Jenni’s pussy between each word, but before Stacy could finish the question, Jenni cried out, arching her back, the pain of the pussy spanking melding into a hot and fiery explosion. Fluids squirted out right onto Stacy who gasped in shock, jerking back as Jenni orgasmed in a wet mess. 

“Jesus!” Stacy blurted out as Jenni’s body spasmed like a freshly landed fish. Her feet kicked, yanking hard on the twine The tutor stared in shock as the orgasm raced through the girl, then slowly petered out, until Jenni relaxed in euphoric bliss, a look of utter relief on her face. “You are a fucking pain slut,” Stacy marveled.

Jenni’s head hung listlessly. 

Stacy put down the leather paddle and picked up a paper towel, mopping at her face and body, trying to clean up the spray of girl goo. “Of course, I’m sure you completely understand that cumming during a study session is a complete violation of the rules.” She set down the towel. “School policy insists that I give your naughty little cunt twenty strokes for your lack of control.” 

Jenni’s eyes flickered over to Stacy, then to the paddle sitting on the desk. Stacy grinned, scooting her chair even closer. But as she did, she picked up the massager, bringing it with her.

“But do you know what I really like about the punishment policy at the school?” Stacy asked, holding the motorized tool up. She pressed the button and the sound of the vibrations filled the little room.

Jenni shook her head, just barely. 

“It demands that I sensitize the spot I’m going to paddle.” And with that her face pressed down between Jenni’s thighs, Stacy’s tongue sliding up and down through Jenni’s freshly spanked pussy, licking the copious amounts of cream from Jenni’s sex. To the bound little schoolgirl, it was like heaven and she groaned, thrusting her hips upward as the sexual fires smoldering inside her burst into fresh flames. It didn’t matter that she’d just cum. Stacy’s tongue was inside her. Then Stacy brought her arm over Jenni’s leg and the massager pressed strongly against Jenni’s clitoris.

Jenni mewled, struggling again as the waves of pleasure surged through her. Her body tensed, the sexual pressure growing, faster this time, pushing her, shaping her thoughts and needs and desires. Stacy brought her head up, her face glistening wet, her hand still rubbing the massager back and forth over Jenni’s swollen, beautiful clit.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you?” Stacy asked, just a bit breathless.

Jenni, her teeth clenched, stared down through her own spread legs, over the rumbling rubber bulb pressed to her sex, at Stacy’s bright eyes. Jenni nodded.

“So it’s time for the last question,” Stacy said. Slowly she straightened, still rubbing the massager over Jenni’s pussy. “For your punishment, should I A) take the candle and drip hot wax all over your hot little pussy. B) use the paddle on your soft little clit, beating it until it's swollen and you're screaming. Or C) Shove the vibrator back up your ass and beat the bottoms of your cute little feet until they’re red.”

Jenni gulped. Waves of excitement seemed to blast up from her sex and she knew it wasn’t going to be long before she had another accident. Another orgasm. She licked her lips, her chest heaving and making the nipple clamps twist and throb and hurt. Jenni nodded, trembling.

“Option... option... D,” she gasped.

Stacy blinked. “Option D?” She shook her head. “There wasn’t an option D.”

Jenni closed her eyes. She was so damn close! If Stacy didn’t pull the massager away soon she was going to explode! She took a huge breath, struggling against her body’s demands.

“D,” she blurted out. “All of the above!” 

Stacy blinked. But then, slowly she smiled. She pulled away the massager, just seconds before Jenni was about to cum. 

“D, huh?” Stacy said in bewilderment. She set down the massager and picked up the candle. She held it up. The flame that had been burning since the start of the session had melted a significant amount of the paraffin and it shimmered in the light, glimmering. She moved it right over Jenni’s oiled, spanked, quivering gash. 

“In my opinion,” Stacy said wickedly, “that is exactly the right answer.” 

And then she poured. 

After School Tutorial