Parent-Teacher Trap

Miss Morgan sits at her desk, pen slashing through assignments, every stroke meaner than the last. A shiny red apple sits right next to her, bright as a taunt. She squints at two pages, flipping fast, then slams them down. “Un-fucking-believable,” she mutters. The name on the cover makes her nostrils flare. She grabs the phone. “Cheryl Best? Miss Morgan—Mandy’s history teacher. Be here as soon as you can. I don’t care if it’s inconvenient. Do it.” Click. Cheryl (blonde hair tight, big tits straining a silk blouse) and Mandy (redhead, nervous, natural curves) walk in minutes later. Miss Morgan lays it out flat: Mandy’s been copying. Cheryl’s face drains. “M-Mandy…?” “I’m sorry, Mom—there’s so much pressure—” Miss Morgan cuts her off; this isn’t the first time. One more word and she’ll call expulsion. Both women beg. Miss Morgan sighs like she’s bored. “Fine. If Mommy won’t discipline her, I will. Right here. Bend her over and spank her.” Cheryl stammers, refuses, offers bribes—donations, connections. Miss Morgan’s eyes flash; she wants Cheryl’s hand on Mandy’s ass, now. Mandy swallows hard and drops her skirt. First smack makes her whimper. Miss Morgan leans back, spreads her legs, and starts rubbing slow circles over her own soaked panties. Cheryl clocks it and freezes. “We’re leaving.” “Walk out and I call the board—tell them you stripped your own daughter for me.” Silence. Miss Morgan smirks, voice low and lethal. “Take off your shirt, Cheryl.” Blonde hair tumbles, big tits spill free, and the trap snaps shut.