Blackmailing Beauty

Blackmailing Beauty
A teacher/student story

A in the closet lesbian teacher catches a student cheat and decides to blackmail her.

Note 1: Thanks as always to Steve and Estragon for their editing help.



Blackmailing Beauty
As soon as I got the job teaching in Hill River, my whole lifestyle had to change. I knew I was a lesbian since I was 16 and had my first girl-girl sexual encounter when I was 18. During college I had many lesbian sexual encounters, dressed very provocatively and partied extremely hard. But when I got my first teaching job in the very conservative town of Hill Valley, I knew I had to hide my sexuality.

I did a pretty good job of it too, at least for five months…but then came Steffi. Steffi was a grade 12 student, already 18, who was the prettiest, sexiest girl I had ever seen. She oozed sexuality and she knew it. She had the blondest of blonde hair and the bluest of blue eyes. Boys drooled over her and girls wanted to be her; and I spent every night alone, in my small apartment, fantasizing about tasting her pussy and having her please me. Of course, there was no reason to think she was a lesbian, as she was often seen flirting with the popular boys who fought for her attention. Many rumours about her filled the hungry minds of the gossip mill, including that she blew guys on the first date, that she had been gangbanged by a few guys during a ski trip, and that she and her best friend Jenny regularly munched from each other’s pussies.

I should note that Steffi was also a member of the gymnastics team. Just the thought of how flexible she must have been made my pussy tingle with excitement. I had seen her perform during a recent competition. I remembered how I could barely refrain from touching my pussy as I watched her perfectly toned body move and contort herself in ways that had me thinking dirty, nasty, dreamy thoughts.

Now even though she was the main figure of every fantasy I pleasured myself to, I in no way had any intention of making my fantasies a reality. But then an opportunity too good to be true occurred. And I took it.

Although Steffi was a very good math student, she was not an overly strong English student. So I was only slightly surprised when I caught her looking at her phone while she was writing her Animal Farm test. She seemed so sweet that I never would have considered her someone who would cheat, but there she was, clearly looking back and forth from the test to her phone. I didn’t confront her with it at the time, just allowing her to finish her test. My plan was already formulating in my nasty mind. When the bell rang, I asked Steffi to stay behind. She sat back down and waited nervously.

After the room cleared, I asked, “Please give me your phone, Steffi.”

“Pardon?” the beautiful 18-year old asked.

“Please give me your phone,” I repeated.

“W-w-why?” she stuttered, nervously.

“I think you know,” I responded.

Instantly she began crying, something I am sure has worked for her in the past. But I simply scoffed, “Steffi, I know the crying game, I have played it myself on many occasions.” I paused before demanding in my teacher voice, “Now, Steffi! Give me the phone.”

Tears still fell down her face as she reluctantly handed me her phone. She blubbered, “I am so sorry. I just…”

I surprised her when I told her, “Shut up. Meet me in the drama lab after school, young lady! We will discuss this further there.”

“Yes, Miss White,” she said through tears as she stood up and walked out.

I flipped through the phone and saw that Jenny, her best friend, had indeed been texting her answers after Steffi had sent her the questions. I pondered what I should do, when a sudden dirty thought flashed into my head. As soon as it was in my head, it would not go away.

What if?….My lust was formulating my plan almost too fast to comprehend now.

I taught one more class, rather distractedly I must say. Then I went to the drama lab where I taught my last class of the day. The class dragged by as I tried not to contemplate the upcoming opportunity that awaited me after the bell rang. My mind boggled with my nasty thoughts while the clock didn’t seem to be moving at all. Mercifully, the period finally ended. I continued my nasty reverie as my students dispersed and headed to their after-school lives.

I didn’t have to wait long before Steffi walked in nervously. I went to the door and closed it. It was Friday and on Friday this placed cleared quicker than kids at a party when the cops show up. I returned to the front and mused, “Now, Steffi, what are we to do with you?”

She immediately began crying again before finally pleading, “I am so sorry, Miss White, it was so stupid of me. Please don’t tell my parents.”

“Hmmm,” I said, as I contemplated her misery.