Danielle, Part Three:  Student###s Pet
By Sonofjack, sonofjackwell@gmail.com
Danielle humiliates Mr. Jenkins during class.


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As the title indicates, this is the third in my series of Danielle stories.
Parts one and two can be found on my bookshelf. There was a long gap between
parts two and three. I hope that part three is worth the wait.

If you would like to comment on this story, email me at
sonofjackwell@gmail.com

I also write custom stories so if you have an idea that you would like me to
turn into a story, email me at sonofjackwell@gmail.co

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"Oh, stop pouting; aren't you glad that I stopped by to see you?"

This question was put to me by my gorgeous student, tormentor and sort of
friend Danielle Thorn. The truth was I WAS glad she stopped by my apartment.
I'm glad every time she stops by my apartment which she does frequently,
always unannounced but always more than welcome. I was especially happy to see
that she stopped by wearing nothing but a red halter top that barely covered
her luscious breasts and tight denim shorts that covered her cute, bulbous ass
the same way. However I wasn't in the mood to let her know it.

"Why should I be happy to see you after the way you humiliated me in class
today?" I asked her.

"What was I supposed to do? You challenged my authority in front of
everybody?" she responded.

"But I'm SUPPOSED to be in charge. I'm the teacher, remember?"

"Now, Mr. Jenkins, we both know that that's not the way things work at our
school. We both know that I rule that school and everyone in it. That includes
you."

As strange as it may seem, Danielle was telling the truth. She DID rule our
high school, and had for the last four years. Before that she ruled middle
school. She ruled by virtue of her incredible strength which no one dared to
challenge.

"But you didn't have to humiliate me the way you did. I thought we were . . .
."

"You thought we were what?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Well . . . I guess I thought we were friends . . . sort of."

A smile lit up her beautiful face. It was a little girl smile - a shy, sweet
smile that would have melted the coldest of hears. "Why, Mr. Jenkins, I'm glad
you think of me as a friend. I really mean that."

"Then why did you threat me the way you did in class?" I asked.

"Again, Mr. Jenkins, what was I supposed to do when you demanded that I get
off my cell phone during class?" she asked.

"How about get off your cell phone," I replied. It seemed quite reasonable to
me.

"Now, Mr. Jenkins, how would that look? What would the other teachers think if
they heard found out I was playing favorites and allowing you to tell me what
to do in class? The next thing you know they'd expect me to start doing my
school work and obeying their rules."

"Would that be so bad?" I asked the gorgeous spoiled brat princess.

She looked at me as if I had two heads. Clearly she thought that my question
was too ridiculous to even respond to. Instead she said, "And besides, I've
heard a few of the students in class are already talking about how I let you
off too easy."

"Too easy?" I asked in amazement.

"Sure; all I did was make you apologize," she responded.

"On my knees!" I reminded her.

"Yes, I always think that apologies seem more sincere if the person
apologizing is on there knees, don't you?"

"AND you threatened me!" I pointed out.

"That's not entirely true," she protested, "All I did was take that railroad
spike that you use as a paper weight and wad it into a ball like it was made
of tinfoil. Then I simply 'suggested' that you might want to get down on your
knees and apologize. I mean, what's the big deal? You can still use it; it's
still heavy enough to hold down papers."

"That's not the point! You made me apologize when all I was doing was trying
to make you follow the same rules as everyone else."

"Mr. Jenkins, we've been over this before. I. Don't. Follow. Rules."

"But it was not like I could ignore you talking on your cell phone. You sit
right in the front row. Besides, I'd just chewed out Lisa Ramsey like two
minutes before that for having her cell phone out in class. My words to her
were still hanging in the air when your cell phone went off, and you answered
it right in front of the entire class! What was I supposed to do?"

"Well . . . for one thing, Lisa Ramsey is a bitch. For another thing, all the
other students at that school know how it is. They know that even though they
have to follow the rules, I can do whatever I want to do. I'm special. This
makes me special." As she said this last part, she flexed her bicep and I
watched as her beautiful muscle grew into a perfect peak on her arm.

Danielle continued, "Besides, Mr. Jenkins, whether you know it or not, I DID
let you of easy. I would have made most teachers not just apologize. I would
have made them crawl over to me on all fours and kiss my feet while they
begged me to forgive them. THEN I still would have turned over their car in
the faculty parking lot after school."

The really sick part of this was that when she said the part about making
other teachers crawl over to her, kissing her feet and begging for
forgiveness, I got jealous. I could also feel my dick stirring. I was actually
getting hard thinking about Danielle's power and how thrilling it would be to
be humiliated by her in public. At the same time, I was grateful that she
didn't actually do it.

When Danielle talks about turning over cars, this is not just idle talk. She
has more than enough strength to accomplish the feat with relative ease.
However, her incredible strength is not the only method Danielle has to compel
others to obey her. I'm sure that even if she possessed normal strength she
would still be able to get her way most of the time because of her amazing
beauty and sexuality.

For one thing, Danielle has the loveliest blue-grey almond-shaped eyes I've
ever seen. I swear that sometimes when she looks at me with those penetrating
orbs I swear that she's looking directly into my soul. I'm not kidding when I
say that I get the feeling that if I stare directly into her piercing eyes for
too long that I'll go blind just as surely as if I stare at the sun too long.

The rest of her face is just as pleasing. It's soft and roundish with a cute
button of an upturned nose. Her gorgeous cheekbones, her bee-sting lips . . .
I can't imagine a face where all the separate parts fit together in a more
pleasing way. Danielle has the kind of face that somehow looks sweet and
innocent and yet alluring and erotic at the same time.

Her beautiful, lightly curled, light brown hair grows even lighter as it gets
longer until it's almost blonde when it reaches its full, slightly longer than
shoulder length. It's always slightly shaggy looking as if she just got out of
bed which, again, gives the impression that Danielle is somehow na##ve and
childlike and yet also seductive and beguiling.

As gorgeous as Danielle's face is, her 5'5", 115 pound body is even more
spectacular. Her ample 30F breasts are firm and yet supple. Her tiny 22 inch
waist is flat and toned. Her womanly 35 inch hips sway hypnotically when she
walks or even just shifts her weight and her round tight derriere is simply
perfection.

Of course, Danielle's delicate flower-like loveliness only makes her
tremendous strength that much more unbelievable and, I have to say, arousing.
Despite the fact that I am her teacher and I never thought I would be the type
of teacher that lusted after a student, I would be a liar if I didn't admit
that Danielle haunts both my waking and nocturnal dreams.

And Danielle knows it. She knows that I lust after her. She knows that I long
to feel her powerful arms around me, to feel her full, soft lips on mine, to
feel the intertwining of out tongues and to feel her naked body writing
against me. I'm sure that she assumes that ALL men want to make love to her
and are at least a little in love with her. And I believe that she's right. I
know that there are gay men in the world, but I have a hard time believing
that ANY man is THAT gay.

As usual, she seemed to know just what I was thinking. "You'd like that
wouldn't you?" she asked.

"Like what?" I asked back.

"You'd like to crawl to me on your hands and knees and kiss my feet wouldn't
you?"

"Yes," I replied. At this point there didn't seem to be any reason to lie. She
had my number, and I knew that she knew it.

"You're crazy about me aren't you, Mr. Jenkins?"

"Yes, Danielle," I answered steadily.

"What turns you on the most, the way I look or my sexy muscles?" she asked.

"I . . . I'm not sure," I answered.

She kicked off the flip flops she was wearing. I looked at her cute little
toes. "Damn!" I thought to myself, "How can even her feet look so damn sexy?"

"Would you like to kiss them?" she asked. There was no need to explain that
"them" were her exquisite feet.

"Yes," I answered.

"Would you like to lick them top to bottom? Would you like to give my feet a
bath with your tongue?"

"Yes, please," I answered.

"Get down on your knees and beg," she said with a girlish giggle.

"Please, let me kiss and lick you beautiful feet," I begged as I fell to my
knees.

"Do you really want to kiss and lick them? Do you REALLY want to slather my
feet with your saliva?" she asked.

"Yes, Danielle, yes," I replied emphatically.

"And then would you like to slowly lick your way up my shapely legs?" she
asked.

My dick was getting harder by the second. "Yes, Danielle, please let me kiss
your feet and lick my way up your breathtaking legs," I pleaded.

"And what will you do when you reach my ass?" she asked.

"Oh G-g-god!" I stammered. "Y-your ass? I would pepper it with kisses. I would
lick your asshole clean! I would WORSHIP your sweet ass if you gave me the
chance. Please, Danielle, please, I'm begging you, let me kiss your sweet,
sweet ass. Pleeeease."

"Mmmmmmmm, maybe some other time," she said as she slipped her flip flops back
on.

I couldn't believe that she did it to me again. All she had to do was the
equivalent of snap her fingers and once again I was on the ground begging her
to let me worship at her feet. She looked at me with a smug grin that plainly
stated what we both knew. She owned me and could do what she pleased with me,
and there wasn't a goddamn thing in the world I could do about it. And if I
dared complain too hard about it, she could use her strength to easily beat
the shit out of me. Even worse, she could walk out of my life.

"Why do you do that?" I asked quietly.

She turned away from me and asked casually, "Do what?"

"Why do you make me think that I have a chance with you only to shut me down
like that?" I asked.

"But, Mr. Jenkins, you DO have a chance with me, IF and when I decide the time
is right," she replied.

"But it's not fair," I protested. "You have all the power; you have all the
say so."

"Yes, I do," she said as if that had never occurred to her before. "I DO have
ALL the power. I DO have ALL the say so. Meanwhile all you can do is beg and
yearn for me, and wait until I'm willing to throw you some morsel." Then she
chuckled. She was clearly very pleased with herself.

"But just a few minutes ago you said we were friends," I pointed out to her.

"And I meant that, Mr. Jenkins. In some ways I think of you as my best
friend." I was surprised to hear her say this.

"R-really?" I asked.

"Mr. Jenkins, don't you know that I let you get away with saying things to me
that I don't let anyone else in the world get away with saying? Sometimes I
even let you scold me at least a little bit. If anyone else said some of the
things that you've said to me in the past I would have flicked my finger and
knocked them out."

"Then why?" I asked.

"Why do I torment you?" she asked. "For several reasons I guess. First of all
I do it because I can. I like the feeling of being able to do whatever I want
without you or anybody else being able to stop me. I like the feeling of
knowing how much you want me and knowing that you can't do anything about it
unless I let you. I like the fact that if I told you to get on your knees and
beg me all over again you'd do it even if you knew in advance that the outcome
was going to be exactly the same."

I looked at her with what must have been the most pathetic of looks. She
continued, "But those things don't mean that I don't like you, Mr. Jenkins.
The truth is, I like you very much. But at the same time, my liking you
doesn't mean that I'm going to have sex with you. It also doesn't mean that I
can allow you to tell me what to do at school. I'm sorry if those things hurt
your feelings, but that's just the way it is, fair or not."

"And I just have to take it," I said. That wasn't a question. That was me
coming face-to-face with reality.

"Yes, you have to take it because as you pointed out, I have all the power."

"So from now on, you're in charge of my class," I said.

"I've always been in charge of your class, Mr. Jenkins. It's just that until
now I've never had to be so obvious about it."

I mumbled to myself, "And I thought second period was bad."

"What's that about second period," she asked curiously.

"Nothing," I said.

"No, tell me," she implored.

"It's nothing," I said, "I just have a few rowdy troublemakers in that class
that like to act up and make it hard for me to teach."

"Who are they?" Danielle asked.

"Never mind," I said.

"Who are they?" Danielle repeated with significantly more edge in her voice.

"Randall Savage, Clark Cranston and William Gibson," I replied.

"Oh, them," she said. "I can't believe they allow those three assholes to be
in the same class."

Danielle was right. They were three assholes. They were three big, stupid,
borderline criminal assholes. Randall, their "leader" had been in several
minor scrapes with local law enforcement. Clark and William were his two loser
friends. All of them were big - William being the biggest one at 6'3" or 6'4"
and weighing in at probably close to 280-285. Clark wasn't as tall, but he
weighed at least 300 pounds. They were all bullies - the kinds of guys that
stuffed ninth graders into their lockers if they didn't cough up their lunch
money. But I didn't want to talk about those guys.

"Forget about all that," I said, changing the subject, "If I'm really your
friend, why don't you ever invite me over to your place?" I admit that it was
a strange question. Even if Danielle did invite me over to her apartment, I'm
not sure I would go. The only reason I didn't make a big fuss about her
dropping in at my apartment whenever she felt like it was because A.) There
was nothing I could do to stop her, and B.) I didn't have to worry about
getting into trouble for having a female student visit my apartment because I
knew that no one would dare challenge ANYTHING that Danielle did. Going to
visit her at her apartment was another matter altogether.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to come to my place," Danielle
said simply.

Now my curiosity was awakened. "Why not?" I asked.

"It's just not a good idea," she stated.

Sensing that for once I had the upper hand, I gently pressed the matter. "Oh,
so you don't want me to come to your place?"

"That's right," she replied mildly but clearly.

"Well, maybe I'll just ask around and find out where you live. Maybe I'll just
drop in on you unexpectedly like you always do to me."

"That wouldn't be a good idea," she said. I could tell she was getting
annoyed, but I liked the feeling of being the tormentor rather than the
tormented.

"Why not? Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" I asked.

Danielle got up from the chair she was sitting in. She walked over to me and
grabbed me by my belt. Then she effortlessly lifted me into the air with one
hand and held me over her head with her arm fully extended. "Let me put it
this way," she said, "I don't think that would be a very . . . healthy
decision for you to make."

"Okay. Okay. I get it. Please, put me down. Please." After Danielle gently
lowered me to the ground I said, "Geez, I was just kidding. You didn't have to
get mad."

"I didn't get mad," she explained calmly, "I just wanted you to know that I
don't want you coming over to my place."

"Why not?" I asked cautiously.

"I just don't," she answered.

"Okay, I'll drop it if you want, but I'd still like to know why you feel so
strongly about this."

"I . . . we just wouldn't be able to talk at my place the way we do here," she
said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I'm afraid that you'd find it too . . . distracting," she said. I could tell
that she was struggling to explain it to me.

"What would I find so distracting?" I asked.

"Let's just say that my life is kind of crazy, okay. That's one of the reasons
I like coming over here - to get away from the insanity sometimes."

"Crazy how?" I asked.

"Just crazy," she replied.

I decided to try playing the friendship card. "Look, Danielle, I'd like us to
really be friends like you say we are, but I think that for that to really
happen you have to be a little more open with me."

She looked at me as if she was considering her options. Needless to say, she
could order me to drop the subject and never bring it up again, and I would
obey. Instead she took a deep breath and said, "Well, for one thing, you know
that Nicole Evans lives with me, right?"

"Yes, I remember you saying something about that." Nicole Evans was a senior
at our school. She was the head cheerleader and the prettiest girl in school
next to Danielle. She was blonde and a couple of inches taller than Danielle.
Her breasts were not quite as big and Danielle's, but they were still very
impressive as was her pretty face and her amazing body.

On one of her earlier visits, Danielle told me about how she rescued Nicole
from an abusive boyfriend. When I praised her for being a hero, she was quick
to point out that now Nicole was HER "bitch". She told me that basically she
move Nicole into her apartment and that now Nicole "does whatever I tell her
to do." She indicated that most of what she tells Nicole to do is of a sexual
nature.

"And then there's Mademoiselle Desiree," she continued.

"Does she live with you in your apartment too?" I asked.

"Not officially, but she's there most of the time," Danielle clarified.
Mademoiselle Desiree was the young and very pretty French teacher at our
school. She was almost the spitting image of a young Yvonne Craig, the actress
who played Batgirl on the old Batman TV series. Danielle had also revealed to
me on an earlier visit that Mademoiselle Desiree was her willing love slave.

"So you don't want Mademoiselle Desiree or Nicole to know that we hang out?" I
asked.

"Oh, I don't care about that," she said, "I've got nothing to hide from either
one of them. I own them."

"Then I don't get it," I said.

Once again, I could tell that Danielle was struggling to explain. "It's just
that most of the time they're hanging around my apartment in . . . ."

"In what?" I asked.

"Practically naked," she blurted out.

"Oh," I said. I have to admit that that put a vivid image in my head. "And you
don't want me to be . . . distracted by them," I said.

"Well, no; when you and I are talking, I want you to pay attention to me," she
said. In the time I've known Danielle this was the closest she's been to
showing a vulnerable side.

"But Danielle, that's crazy!" I said.

"What's so crazy about it? I know you have a little thing for Mademoiselle
Desiree," she said. She's right; I did.

"But, Danielle, I couldn't take my attention off of you if I wanted to. You
could be standing in a crowd of Sports Illustrated swimsuit models all wearing
string bikinis, and I'd still focus all of my attention on you."

"You would?" she asked. Her adorable face lit up again like a thousand watt
bulb.

"Of course! Even if you were wearing a parka at the time," I said.

"Okay! Now you're just being silly," she said. She stood up and posed sexily.
"Why would I EVER cover up THIS body with a parka?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Don't you ever get cold?"

"Let me put it this way," she said, "I love to go for long barefoot walks in
the snow."

"Oh," I said. I know that at this point I should not have been surprised by
this, but sometimes I forget just what a supergirl Danielle is.

She walked over to me and said, "You know, Mr. Jenkins, you're very sweet."
Then she placed her strong hands on my shoulders and pulled me roughly to her.
She looked into my eyes for a few seconds that seemed like hours and pulled my
lips to hers. She kissed me passionately. I could feel the power in her grip.
I could feel her large breasts pressed against my chest. I could feel her
tongue making its way into my welcoming mouth. She twirled it around and sent
waves of pleasure throughout my body. I'd never experienced such erotic
pleasure before. I could feel my crotch filling up with warm liquid. Just one
loving, tender kiss from Danielle was enough to make my cream my pants.

She pulled away from me, "Well, Mr. J, it's been fun, but I have to be going
now."

I was so overcome with orgasmic pleasure that it was all I could do to remain
standing. "Danielle, please, don't go. Stay here with me tonight," I begged.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she said. "But I want you to know
that I really am sorry for embarrassing you in class, and I'm going to think
of some way to make it up to you."

Like a flash, before I could beg her again not to go, she was out the door and
on her way.

The next day at school when second period rolled around, I noticed that
Randall, Clark and William were not only sitting quietly and NOT being
troublesome, but they kept their heads down and actually seemed to be paying
attention and taking class notes.

After class they came up to me. Up close I could see that Randall and William
both had black eyes and that Clark had a split lip. Their leader Randall spoke
up, "Mr. Jenkins, we're sorry for the way we've been behaving in class, and we
want you to know that it won't happen again. From now on we're going to do our
best to learn, and we're not going to be disruptive anymore."

Then he turned to his two colleagues and asked, "Isn't that what she told us
to say?" The both nodded yes.

"That's fine, boys," I said graciously. I figured that this must be Danielle's
way of making things up to me. Little did I know what else she had in store
for me.

I was disappointed later to see that Danielle wasn't in class that day. Of
course, it was not unusual for Danielle to miss school. I did like all of the
rest of her teachers and marked her present anyway.

After school was over and I got home to my apartment, I noticed that the metal
knob to my front door was crushed and forced open. This was a sure sign that
Danielle was there and waiting for me inside. As always, I was thrilled with
the thought of being in her powerful presence.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The apartment was dark. I turn on
the light to the front room and was surprised not to see Danielle sitting
there. I called, "Danielle, where are you? I know you're here."

"Danielle's not here," I heard a feminine voice say softly. "She left after
letting me in."

I looked over and saw a figure standing in the doorway to my bedroom. It was
Nicole Evans. All she had on was a red lace bra and tiny red lace panties.
"Nicole!" I said, startled.

"Danielle sent me over here as a 'present'," she explained.

(To be continued)

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Part of this story was based on a suggestion made by a reader. If you have any
ideas regarding where you would like to see this story go, email me, and I
just might use your suggestion. Actually, I'm interested in any comments that
you have.

Also, remember that I do write custom stories, so if you have any story ideas
that you'd like brought to life, let me know.

My email address is sonofjackwell@gmail.com