When Cheerilee arrived home after a long day of teaching, it was to find her secret lover, private pupil, and favorite pet project waiting for her on the couch with hands folded neatly in her lap. The radio was softly playing a romantic hit from a decade ago. The air was fragrant with herbs and the room felt warmer from the oven. Fleur de Lis looked at her with her smooth pearly complexion flushed from excitement, an apron embroidered with flowers tied around her waist.

“Hello, Madame Cheerilee. It is a pleasure to see you again this evening.” Her accent was light and airy. She stood and gave a commendable curtsy in her short white dress.

Cheerilee greeted her with a smile as she shrugged out of her peacoat. She placed it on the coat rack by the door, right next to Fleur’s black trenchcoat and dark hat.

“Hello, Fleur. Did you have trouble getting away?” Cheerilee asked lightly as she sat down in the adjacent recliner with a long sigh. Her feet ached.

Fleur didn’t hesitate to kneel at Cheerilee’s feet and dutifully helped to remove her shoes. “Not especially. A few cameramen thought they had me cornered, but like always, I gave them the slip and made it to the train station.” She flirted her eyelashes. “May I please rub your feet? They’ve surely suffered for fashion today, madame,” Fleur teased with a mischievous grin.

Cheerilee’s smile turned crooked. “You’re already ready to start? You didn’t even let me sit down properly.”

“I’ve missed our game, Cheerilee,” Fleur said, her voice brimming with eager anticipation. “I cannot wait to be your student any longer, so please be my mademoiselle.”

Cheerilee searched her face. “Beloved. That’s the new safeword you wanted, right?”

Fleur grinned, biting at her lip. “Yes.”

Cheerilee’s smile widened, the tension of her day already starting to fade. “Then go ahead.”

Fleur’s face lit up as she carefully took hold of one of the older woman’s stockinged feet and with practiced ease began to massage with firm circles of her thumbs. Cheerilee’s expression softened, her body sinking into the chair as her eyes turned hooded.

She watched, her breathing slowing to an indulgent rhythm as her pupil worked the stress from her soles.

A year they’d been at this game. It had started thanks to classified ads in a kingdom-wide newspaper.

Strict Domme seeking willing submissive for discreet, intensive lessons. Must be willing to serve. Lessons 1-2x a month.

And Cheerilee had gotten quite a bit of nothing from that ad. People curious about kink who backed out after an email or two. Trolls who thought they’d found an easy mark, only to realize that a quarter of her job was dealing with troublemakers. And then a handful of promising applicants that she eventually whittled down to one. The perfect one.

Fleur de Lis. A supermodel who was hungry to take the pressure off her busy life. More than that? She had real issues she wanted to work through. It turned out she’d taken Cheerilee’s ad to heart. She wanted to learn. And it was in Cheerilee’s blood to teach.

But first came the respect. Students of martial monks abroad would be tasked with cooking and cleaning for their masters before beginning their training. Apprentices for a specific trade were often expected to run errands, completely at the mercy of their benefactors. Cheerilee was accustomed to the thankless job of teaching elementary school, but she had long fantasized about greater appreciation. Fleur gave it to her in spades.

Cheerilee reclined back in her seat, her eyes falling shut as Fleur lovingly worked the ache from beneath her toes. Her thumbs smoothed out the knots in her heel.

“What did you cook?” Cheerilee asked, a touch drowsily.

“Sautéed chicken with garlic, lemon, and wild rice, madame. I’ve brought a young bottle of Viognier to enjoy with it.”

Cheerilee hummed and nodded once, one eye slitting open to watch Fleur switch feet.

Their coming together had been strange and completely unexpected. Their emails had been tentative at first.

What are you into?

Cheerilee? Control, obviously. But she liked to give assignments. “Homework” if you will. And she did like to train.

Fleur? She liked to try new things, and she was beyond adventurous. But mostly, she wanted praise. Praise and to feel like she was more than just a pretty face.

What do you want to try?

Cheerilee desired static setups, which were almost artful in their elaborate presentation. All the better for lectures. Fleur yearned to be molded into something new. To be able to speak her mind on matters yet beyond her ken. And what better motivator than a hot instructor?

And then finally…

Would you like to meet?

And what a shock it had been! Cheerilee had stared so much during their first meeting that she knew she’d given up a bit of her power, but she couldn’t help it. After all…it was Fleur de Lis! The internationally famous beauty whose face was plastered on so many glossy pages and billboards, you practically had to live underground not to know her…

And even then, the Diamond Dog miners were crazy about her!

But it hadn’t taken long for their conversation to make it clear that Fleur was being choked alive by her fame. Even mid-lunch-date they’d had to escape paparazzi hunting for a snap of the supermodel. Cheerilee had spirited her away to her home. It hadn’t been her desire to reveal such a personal space so quickly, but Fleur had been beyond respectful. If anything, she seemed to brighten at Cheerilee’s normal but orderly sanctuary. She had eyed the photos of past students with fascination. Taken in the emotive horse paintings and fresh flowers in decorative vases with hushed wonder.

Cheerilee had gotten the sense that before she’d made up her mind about being potentially discovered doing kinky things with a famous supermodel, Fleur had very swiftly made her mind up about Cheerilee. A year later, here they were, and along the way romance had sprouted. They’d worked out every snag and complication… And yet, Cheerilee still wondered what in Equestria had made Fleur so eager to be her sub.

“That will do, thank you, Fleur. Get me a plate, will you? I’ll change into something more comfortable.” Cheerilee started to sit up, but Fleur clasped her hands before her and pouted. Mightily.

“Ah, madame, won’t you please let me help you? I promise to have your meal ready quickly!”

Cheerilee crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. She stared at Fleur so hard, her pupil actually blushed and rose to her feet. “M-My apologies for speaking out of turn, madame. I will prepare your supper now.”

She watched the taller woman hurry away so quickly that her long pale pink hair drifted behind her, shiny strands of silk catching the warm glow of the living room lamp. Cheerilee shook her head with an imperceptive smile and retired to her bedroom. There, she removed her work clothes and put on a comfy T-shirt and sweatpants, sans bra. She’d shower later.

Returning to the living room, she looked across the space to see Fleur in the dining area uncorking a bottle and pouring the white wine into two glasses by hand. She was not allowed to use magic while performing service or engaging with her lessons unless she was given explicit permission. Otherwise, what was the point of the work? Cheerilee was earthbound, meaning she had no magic or wings, but she appreciated her natural strength, even in her line of work. In her opinion, doing things manually built character. Precisely her goal for Fleur.

Her pupil looked up sharply as Cheerilee approached. Watching Fleur fumble for her apron strings without a spell, the older woman felt a small satisfaction—progress, however imperfect.

“Everything is prepared, Madame Cheerilee,” Fleur said with a small dip of her knees.

Cheerilee smiled kindly at her. Her pupil was taller by a good two inches when Cheerilee was out of her heels, but somehow that didn’t stop the woman from feeling like she towered when Fleur served her like this. Fleur pulled out a chair and the teacher sat into it. When Fleur herself was seated, Cheerilee raised her glass. “Thank you for the meal, Fleur. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble this time.”

Fleur’s cheeks heated pink, but she grinned as she lifted her own glass and they toasted. “You are very welcome, madame. And not this time. It only took me thirty minutes to prepare. The Viognier was the most difficult thing to acquire, but that is only because I am, as they say, choosy. The wine comes from a charming Prench vineyard I found that specialized in fruit wines of an exquisite caliber. Tres magnifique.”

“Sounds expensive…” Cheerilee muttered with a glance.

Fleur sat up straighter and pressed her lips together. “Only a poor student would give her teacher a mediocre present when it is within her power to do greater.”

“Lucky me, then.”

“You have a student with both means and excellent taste, madame.”

Cheerilee chuckled deep in her throat as she took a bite of her food. Moist and zesty, just the way she liked it. She took a sip of the Viognier and carefully considered how it paired with the chicken, garlic, and lemon flavors. They danced, awakening her tongue with energetic tastes that made her feel more alert. Fleur watched her from the corner of her eye, nervous but trying to hide it.

With great affection, Cheerilee nodded her head and breathed, “This is delicious, Fleur. You’re an excellent cook.”

Fleur’s face lit up with a relieved smile. “Thank you. I am most glad you enjoy the food. I have been practicing more between shows and photoshoots. My agent and fashion friends thought I was crazy at first, but now they get excited if I cook.”

Cheerilee, who had been smiling gently as she ate, smiled wider with pride as her chest warmed.

One of the recent things she taught Fleur was the basics of cooking. She had given Fleur recipes as homework, and though she’d started with her favorite meals, she encouraged Fleur to explore whatever struck her fancy. Cheerilee wasn’t picky. And so the fashion model had dug into her native country’s traditional dishes. This latest dish was part of a series Fleur had been sharing with Cheerilee, and the teacher was delighted her pupil had made such great progress.

But Fleur’s education was broad, and these were not the only lessons she’d been endeavoring to learn.

When the meal was finished, Fleur took the plates and glasses to put away in the dishwasher. In the meantime, she gave Cheerilee her laptop. It sat on the coffee table and displayed a spreadsheet, which showed rows and cells of numbers and dates and descriptions.

Fleur kept peeking over her shoulder as Cheerilee scanned the numbers on the loveseat couch. This? It was a financial record. And Cheerilee was frowning at it.

“Fleur, remind me, what is your budget for leisure spending in a given month?” she asked her pupil as she sat back from the screen with a sigh.

Fleur’s shoulders hitched up a little higher as she placed a plate into the bottom dishwasher rack, then closed it. “Ah… I think you said a hundred thousand?” The budget of the wealthy. It had made Cheerilee clutch her head at first, but now it was just another number.

“Correct.” Cheerilee gazed at Fleur sidelong and motioned for her to come closer. “So imagine my surprise when I found the actual result of this month’s expenses.”

Nervously, Fleur came to sit next to her. “Yes, madame? Is something the matter?” Her pretty slender hands wrung in her lap.

Cheerilee gave her a look. “Oh ho, we’re playing dumb today I see.” Her eyes narrowed. “Fleur, you went over your limit. My limit that I set for you.” She tapped the bottom of the spreadsheet, where a cell displayed the sum of its column. It read over a hundred and fifty thousand.

Fleur shrank in her seat. “Madame, that— Y-You see, I can explain—”

“Stop.” And the other woman fell quiet. Cheerilee pinched the bridge of her nose. “You told me you wanted to be better about your spending. That you didn’t want to rely entirely on accountants to have a grasp of your finances. I set those limits for your own good, Fleur. I’m disappointed.”

Little tears glittered at the corners of Fleur’s eyes as her lip trembled. “Madame, please! I beg you for a chance to explain.”

Cheerilee’s eyes creased as she regarded her younger charge. After a long moment, she tilted her head. “All right. What do you have to say?”

Fleur took a little breath. “It… It was supposed to be a surprise. For your birthday.” Which was in three days. Cheerilee frowned now but didn’t speak. Her pupil went on, her voice trembling a little. “I wanted very badly to do something nice for you, madame, but I know how you feel about me giving you gifts or money. I had already exhausted my funds for donations that month, but then I had this idea, and I decided… I decided that the consequences would be acceptable.”

Cheerilee’s eyebrows lifted up high. “You did it on purpose. What, did you just hope I wouldn’t notice? Disobeying me even for a gift is flattering, but sort of misses the point, doesn’t it, Fleur? What was this idea of yours, anyway?”

Fleur pouted as she fussed with the hem of her white dress. “Must I reveal it, madame? You will learn of it soon, anyway.”

“What do you think?” Cheerilee snapped.

Her pupil flinched and let out a little sigh. “I…donated fifty thousand to your school.” At her teacher’s alarmed look, she hurriedly added, “Anonymously! Of course!” She slouched and delicately wiped a tear from her eye. “You’d been complaining of needed repairs and a lack of computers. So I thought… I just…” She lifted a hand and tilted her head in a delicate shrug.

Cheerilee stared at her, stunned. “You did that? Recently?”

Fleur did a tiny nod. “Yes. To further obfuscate the trail, I gave the money through a new charity foundation. They’ll be contacting your school tomorrow. My name will not be attached.” She bowed her head. “But I know you are still displeased with me, madame. Rightly so. I was being impulsive again. I only wanted to make you happy for your birthday.”

Cheerilee put a hand on her head and leaned on the armrest. After a long moment of thinking, she looked at Fleur with some exasperation. “This is a strange position you’ve put me in, Fleur.”

“Yes. I am sorry, madame.”

“You did something really sweet, and I’m touched, but you also disobeyed me.”

“Yes, madame.”

Cheerilee huffed and reached over, taking a firm hold of Fleur’s chin and lifting her face. The supermodel, gorgeous with her smooth unblemished features, was quietly weeping. Cheerilee felt her heart squeeze, both from frustration and burning affection. Oh, her sweet, silly student. Fleur was childlike in so many ways, but she had depths that surprised Cheerilee. Initially, she hadn’t expected this arrangement of theirs to be anything more than a diversion, but with Fleur, Cheerilee now felt…

“What am I going to do with you?” Cheerilee breathed, caressing Fleur with her thumb.

“I can learn. I’ll make you pleased again, madame. Please let me atone,” Fleur begged, leaning into her teacher’s hand.

Cheerilee let her touch drift to cup her eager pupil’s cheek. “Are you sorry?”

“Yes, I’m so very sorry, mademoiselle.”

“Then get downstairs and take off your dress. It’s time for a lesson.”

Fleur, trembling, rose up and hurried to the back hallway, where a door, normally locked, opened for her, and she hurried down the wooden steps to the basement beneath. The soundproofed room contained all the dark and hidden things Cheerilee desired. Rich she may not be, but this was her hidden passion. Almost all of the money she could spare went to this den of desire.

Otherwise, her home was very ordinary. She could have friends over for dinner and no one was the wiser. It’s what puzzled Cheerilee so much. What had Fleur seen up here on that fateful day? For every complicated want was down below.

Cheerilee followed after her sub, her pupil, her lover, shutting the door behind her. The wooden steps creaked as she descended, passing the foamed walls.

Along the walls were racks of various tools and implements. Paddles, whips, dildoes, anal plugs, vibrators, chains, cuffs, and gags. Across the room, a clothing rack held kinky outfits. Vinyl bodysuits, maid uniforms, sheer black dresses, and leather strap suits. Near the toy rack was a basket on the floor with various ropes of different types and thicknesses.

At the back wall was a four-poster bed with silky violet and magenta sheets. Straps were already tied to each of the posts. In one corner of the room was also a large wooden black box, padded on the inside for sensory deprivation. In another corner was a pillory, and in another, a BDSM saw horse.

It left a modest space on the carpeted floor, but it was more than enough for the suspension play. Hooks and hoops were screwed into thick reinforced wood beams overhead at various points to allow for different rope systems.

And kneeling under all of that, just at the end of the bed, was Fleur, dressed only in a sexy lingerie piece: a sheer white crotchless bodysuit with intricate floral patterns. She watched her teacher with wide eyes, shivering now and then in anticipation.

Cheerilee took her time. She went to the toy rack and grabbed a red ball gag, a crop whip, and two large binder clips. These she tossed into the nearby rope basket and pulled that over next to her pupil. Next, she dug out four very long coils of medium-thick white cotton rope. She also grabbed a much smaller pre-cut bundle of the same type of rope, and one large carabiner. She dumped these onto the floor and quietly began to tie Fleur up.

First with the younger woman’s arms behind her back. Then with one of the longer ropes, Cheerilee wrapped it around her pupil, shibari style, with the rope wrapping around and crossing her chest to create a kind of harness. A shinju harness, specifically. The first minute or two of this work was spent in silence.

Then Cheerilee began to speak. “I want you to reflect on something, Fleur.” She created a knot, then reached into the large basket for the ball gag. “Why have I not asked you for any of your money, despite living on a teacher’s salary?”

Fleur blinked, her cheeks pink. She opened her mouth to say something, but Cheerilee held up the ball gag with a significant look. “And while you’re silently reflecting on this point, I want you to consider one more thing.” Fleur obediently opened her mouth wider and Cheerilee fastened the gag around her sub’s head. Her hands slowed a little as she finished. “Why did you choose to be with me?”

Fleur’s head lifted with an anguished gaze, and a tiny whine sounded deep in her throat. Still, Cheerilee was not done. This was a lecture, after all.

“All that said, I need you to understand the careful balance of our relationship. What makes it work. Because it is a precarious balance. Like what I’m about to do with you and this rope. Your decisions—emotional, relational, or ethical—affect this balance, but it also affects you, whether you realize it or not.”

She could have been a college professor. She had the education for it. Princess Twilight had even extended an invitation to teach advanced classes at her School of Friendship. But Cheerilee knew she was needed at the Ponyville Schoolhouse. This, with Fleur, was one of the few ways of making use of her overeducation. Finding someone, unrefined, and shaping them. It was the ultimate influence, but she dared not do it impulsively or with just anyone. And Fleur?

Fleur was special.

The pupil listened, breathing deeply through her nose, her gaze a strange mixture of love, apprehension, and hunger. Cheerilee felt her own desire surge at the look. But she had mastery over her own heat. So she went on, speaking calmly.

“Iman Neigh Kantor argued that to respect someone means to treat them as an end in themselves, not as a means to an end. He believed that every individual has inherent dignity. Autonomy. This must be recognized in any interaction, and even as your teacher, I’ve striven to honor that in you.”

She placed her hands under Fleur’s elbows and carefully guided her to stand. Their eyes met. “Kantor believed autonomy means choosing your path, free from fear or insecurity. When you spend to keep someone, you lose that autonomy—and you disrespect theirs by trying to control how they stay.”

Cheerilee caressed Fleur’s hips, eyeing the space between her legs where the subtle slit at the crotch tempted like a siren. She passed over this, instead sliding her hands to her student’s pert backside. The teacher sighed with appreciation as she squeezed Fleur’s ass cheeks, pulling her student and lover toward her and kissing her neck. Fleur groaned, her head falling back before Cheerilee gave her a smart slap on her right cheek that made her yelp.

Cheerilee grabbed at the front of the harness and tightened the rope, feeling it dig just enough into Fleur’s soft skin. “See how the rope holds you steady? It doesn’t overreach. It doesn’t pull you off balance. That’s what a relationship needs.”

She stepped away to grab another of the long ropes. She smirked at Fleur’s whimper as she undid the coil and set to work making a swiss seat around her pupil’s hips and upper legs.

“In normal relationships, neither partner should feel used, diminished, or less than the other,” Cheerilee said as if the interruption hadn’t happened. “In our relationship there is an agreed dynamic, but I believe the principles are still upheld. We discussed and consented to everything we are doing, and we are free to renegotiate at any time. This is our unique expression of care and respect.”

She worked quietly for a moment before making a knot and looking up.

“But when you seek validation through emotional spending, are you being respectful to yourself? When you try to buy approval, you treat yourself as a tool for others’ happiness, not as a person with inherent value.”

Fleur’s face looked horrified at the thought, and she seemed to really want to speak, but even if she wanted to, the ball gag was fixed firmly over her mouth. She trembled harder as Cheerilee worked.

“In typical relationships, this would still be problematic. In ours, it’s even worse. We’ve agreed, after careful negotiation and trust building, to this power dynamic. Your behavior undermines this, whether you like it or not. It diminishes my role…and yours. And don’t you love being my student?” Cheerilee smiled at Fleur’s frantic nodding. “Good.”

“When one person gives beyond any normal means of reciprocation, resentment can fester. The giver can feel exploited, and the taker may feel burdened. Have you considered whether your actions—your emotional spending—might be tipping the balance too far in one direction? And how that affects us both?”

Fleur’s face tensed. Cheerilee watched her expectantly. After a long moment, the younger woman slowly shook her head. Cheerilee smiled and kissed Fleur’s cheek. Then she went for another long coil of rope and a step stool that had been neatly folded under the bed.

“So what is emotional spending, exactly? We can think of it as pouring your energy and resources into something to feel better, without considering whether it’s sustainable or healthy. I’ve noticed this trend with you, Fleur. When you first came to me, you were on the verge of debt, shelling out millions to keep friends and lovers with you. Like when you spent a fortune buying your ex-boyfriend a foreign sports car. After you’d broken up.”

Cheerilee used this next rope to create a support line from the shinju harness. She had to use the step stool to reach the metal anchor ring, but she was long past feeling self-conscious about her height. Not when subs like Fleur gave her such delicious prey-like looks as right now. She looped the rope through the ring at least twice before she stepped down again to the carpet. All the while, she kept talking.

“You give so much, so desperate for approval, and for what? Forget the money, how do you refill your heart when it runs dry? What do you do when your friends or partners come to expect even more giving? Or worse, they stop appreciating you at all?”

Here, Cheerilee slowed, her eyes tensing as she gauged Fleur’s face. “That’s already happened to you…hasn’t it?”

Fleur looked away, her eyes shining with new tears. She breathed in, shuddering, as Cheerilee caressed her cheek once before pulling on the rope. Fleur didn’t stand on her tiptoes as the harness pulled up towards the anchor ring, squeezing her breasts a little. Her teacher had trained her too well.

Cheerilee locked the rope off and reached down for the last rope on the floor. This she began to thread through the swiss seat.

“If you want to overcome this, Fleur, you have to recognize the patterns. Why are you giving so much? You do realize that most people can get by with very little? Are you afraid of being rejected? Are you trying to control your relationships by being indispensable?” Cheerilee exhaled hard through her nose as she paused to crouch and grab the carabiner from the top of the rope basket. “You have to set boundaries, not just with people, but with yourself. Our relationship has very defined boundaries, right? It’s all for balance. Like what I’m about to do with you now.”

The carabiner went through the new support line, and Cheerilee stood to loop this twice through the anchor ring before she met Fleur’s eyes. The younger woman’s tears were flowing freely again, and she was trying to keep her breathing steady, but she couldn’t help sniffling shakily now and again. Cheerilee sighed and bent a little to press her forehead against Fleur’s. “Shhh… We’re going to lift now. On three. One… Two…”

Cheerilee pulled on the rope, using her earthbound strength. Fleur was light, despite her height, making it even easier. Cheerilee set herself between Fleur’s legs, keeping her steady as she began to lock off the rope. When she was done, she pushed away the stool and held Fleur’s face, wiping away tears. “You are held up by everything I give you. But this doesn’t work if you step past the boundaries Fleur. I want you to respect me, but I want you to respect yourself too. This?” She plucked a support rope. “It comes undone when you fail to say no. You have to trust that the right people will stay without your exorbitant gifts. You have to trust that I want you without them. You don’t need to buy love or approval. Certainly not from me. What you bring to this dynamic is you—your trust, your submission, your heart. And that’s worth more than any gift.”

She leaned in and murmured. “Remember Kantor and his teachings. He said we all have inherent worth, and that includes you, Fleur. Your dignity isn’t tied to what you give—it’s tied to who you are.” She tilted her head a little, her two-toned rose and pale pink hair slipping over her shoulders and brushing over Fleur’s belly. “And you’re my lovely student. Mine. You think I would put this much effort into something that isn’t worthwhile? Fleur, you are a font of possibilities. I don’t see limits to your growth.”

This is why I love you. Why I may never find someone like you, ever again.

She never said this aloud, and she refused to do so now. Too many disappointments, too many goodbyes—it had made opening her heart feel like a risk she couldn’t afford. At her age, perhaps cynicism was unavoidable. But Fleur had a way of testing even her resolve.

Cheerilee frowned softly. “Now then. Our relationship needs a little rebalancing. Do you want to be my good girl again?”

Fleur’s eyes widened, a soft whimper escaping around the gag as she nodded frantically. Cheerilee smiled. “Then let me help you remember what balance feels like.”

She went back to the basket and found the binder clips. Fleur squeaked at the sight of them, but Cheerilee didn’t use them right away. She placed them in the pocket of her sweats, then took a moment to appreciate her pupil.

Fleur had the typical fashion model physique. Slim, delicate, and with a modest chest. She reminded Cheerilee of a doll sometimes, and she’d sometimes worried that Fleur faced too many pressures to maintain a certain look to the detriment of her health. She’d forbidden her sub from dangerous diets, but mostly she hoped what Fleur was learning would open up more possibilities for a life beyond modeling.

Because she was worth it. Fleur was worth every late night coming up with lessons and reading material, every cramp of stress from a concerning fashion article, and yes, all the risks of dating someone famous.

Cheerilee’s hands glided over Fleur’s smooth thighs, then over the sheer lingerie toward the younger woman’s chest. Her gaze turned hooded as she caressed Fleur’s breasts, her thumbs softly teasing her student’s nipples. She smirked as Fleur eagerly arched into her touch, her eyes hooded as she watched her teacher’s hands intently. Cheerilee stepped out from between Fleur’s legs to be at her side, where she kissed her sub on the temple before she hooked her thumbs into the top of the bodysuit’s brasserie and pulled down.

The motion made Fleur sway a little as her tits were freed into the air, her pink nipples pert. Cheerilee hummed as she cupped and kneaded these, making Fleur’s breathing pick up speed before she dipped a head down and took a nipple in her mouth, lashing it with her tongue. Fleur moaned in her ear, so needful.

The teacher straightened, her eyebrows lifting. “Ah, I’m sorry. Did we forget this was part punishment, too?” She dug out the binder clips from her pocket, and she grinned as Fleur squirmed with an alarmed look.

“Hold still,” Cheerilee commanded softly. Fleur settled down, her chest heaving as her pale violet eyes darted from the binder clips to Cheerilee’s face. The teacher winked as she opened one of the black clips. “This will sting a bit.” Grabbing one of Fleur’s nipples in a tight pinch, she pulled this out, then fastened a clip over it. Fleur squealed. Cheerilee did the same for the other one. She laughed a little at how Fleur’s tits looked now, so squashed, pink, and raw.

Returning to the basket, she acquired the crop whip she’d placed there earlier and used it on Fleur’s ivory ass in a sharp swing.

Fleur shrieked, her back arching a little as she swung in the ropes.

“Next time I set a limit for you, you had better damn well listen,” Cheerilee said sharply. She whacked Fleur’s other butt cheek, still red from the slap it had received earlier. Fleur shrieked again, her arms straining in their bindings as she gave Cheerilee a desperate look. “I am your teacher, and I am devoted to your learning. But you have to obey.”

She whacked Fleur’s inner thigh next. “I need you to learn this lesson, Fleur. Will we keep giving too much away?” Another whack on the other thigh, making it jiggle. Cheerilee let the crop trail from its latest mark down to Fleur’s pussy, the slit opening spreading wide to expose her cute cunt, all-natural, but the pink curls were evenly trimmed. Cheerilee pressed the whip’s head through the silky curls, to where the swollen clitoris peeked, and this she caressed. Fleur moaned, trying to shift her hips wider.

Cheerilee grabbed a fistful of Fleur’s hair near the scalp and pulled her face closer. “Will you be good, Fleur? Hmm?” With the little bit of movement she had available to her, Fleur jerked her head, a strangled sound erupting from her throat. Cheerilee smirked and whacked a boob with the whip. Fleur screamed in surprise. “Sorry, what?” the teacher asked her innocently. She whipped the same boob. “Speak up.” Again and again and again and—

Fleur writhed, her face becoming an unusual kaleidoscope of emotions. Agony, desire, desperation…

And love.

Cheerilee started to give in more to her wants. She dipped down and bit the top of Fleur’s other breast, her teeth scraping, then digging. Hard enough to bruise. The loud cry this produced made Cheerilee glad for all the work she’d done to soundproof the basement. The more Fleur screamed, the wetter she got, the pit of her stomach tightening to a dull ache. Her whip struck and struck, leaving welts throughout Fleur’s delectable body. A canvas to portray her affectionate violence. Minutes passed…

The time to release Fleur from the shibari seat was fast approaching.

Fleur’s head lolled as she panted heavily through her nose. Her pink face was wet from tears and the ball gag gleamed in her mouth as she looked around dazedly with dilated eyes. Cheerilee caressed her cheek. “You’re doing so good. You’re being such a good girl. My good girl…”

She flicked a binder clip, making Fleur whimper, before she removed the clip and took Fleur’s nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue energetically as Fleur shouted at the intense feeling of blood rushing back into her poor flesh. Cheerilee loved the salty taste of Fleur’s desperate sweat along with the heat of so much blood returning to the starved veins. She did this again on the other side, and she eyed Fleur sideways, loving the white bend of Fleur’s graceful neck before the young woman raised her head again and found her teacher’s soft green eyes.

With a loud smack of her mouth, Cheerilee pulled away, making Fleur wince from the tug. The Domme reached up and undid the ballgag, tossing it into the basket without even looking. Her eyes were fastened on Fleur’s flushed face, her lips swollen and her chin glistening from the unavoidable drool the gag caused.

She looked so beautiful.

One of Cheerilee’s hands caressed down Fleur’s stomach as she gripped her pupil tightly by the back of the neck. “Do you promise never to disobey me on purpose again?”

Fleur’s head bobbed and she half-sobbed, half-gasped, “Yes! I promise!”

Cheerilee’s hand reached those pretty pink pubes…and slowed. Fleur whined and tried to spread her legs wider. Cheerilee tilted her head one way, then the other, her lips parted. “Are you sure?” She grabbed a fistful of Fleur’s pubes and pulled, making the supermodel sway back and forth in the ropes.

Fleur squealed, her legs now squeezing together. “Aah! Mademoiselle, I am sorry! I will not disrespect either of us that way again!”

Another pull of those poor pubes, another scream, but she didn’t let Fleur swing back. Cheerilee was grinning now as she held her sub aloft, literally, by the hair. “Good. Now say it to me in Prench.”

Fleur babbled fast, her face twitching as she tried to hold very, very still. “S’il vous plaît, je promets de faire mieux! Je ne désobéirai pas! Je veux être ta gentille fille! Votre élève parfait!”

Gods, she loved it when Fleur begged in Prench.

Cheerilee let go, stopping her partner’s body from swinging, before she wrenched Fleur’s face toward her, catching her mouth in a hungry and passionate kiss. She’d been wanting to do that from the start, but discipline was key here. She let her hand slip down till she found those wet pussy lips and dripping locks. She ran her fingers through the femmecum, spreading the essence as she played with Fleur’s clit, before letting her fingers plunge deep, deep into her partner’s needy hole, where she fucked her, roughly, pads of her fingers pressing against that spongey G-spot like it was a tight knot that needed undoing.

Fleur cried out deep in her throat as she returned Cheerilee’s bruising kisses.

But Cheerilee was cognizant of the time, and she didn’t want Fleur suffering from hanging too long. She broke off their kiss and removed her hand, ignoring her pupil’s protests as she did so. She carefully undid the ropes, holding Fleur about the waist as she guided her to the floor.

“Madame, madame, please,” Fleur begged, groaning, her thighs rubbing together.

“Shhh.” Cheerilee removed the rope harnesses, but she left the ropes binding Fleur’s arms behind her a moment longer.

Standing over Fleur, Cheerilee pushed down at her waistband, not even bothering to fully remove her pants, and revealing she wasn’t wearing any panties. Unlike Fleur’s foreign sensibilities, Cheerilee preferred to stay shaved, save for a single short-trimmed magenta heart just over her clit. She beckoned Fleur to her. “Pay for your tuition, you silly girl. Now.”

Fleur scrambled to rise up onto her knees, and with big eyes and a shaky smile, she took Cheerilee into her mouth without the slightest bit of hesitation. Cheerilee tried to keep her face stoic, but her lips remained parted so she could pant softly as her darling student, her greatest pupil, lovingly and worshipfully pleasured her.

Fleur’s tongue mostly stayed on Cheerilee’s tense clit, but it occasionally roved through her vaginal lips, tasting her slick arousal. More than a foot rub, this had been the ache that had needed tending. Every pass of that exquisite tongue made the woman feel like heat was threatening to burn her from the inside out. She loved Fleur’s noisy slurping. Fitting that she didn’t let a drop of her teacher’s nectar go to waste.

Cheerilee spread her legs a little, angling her hips forward, one of her hands grabbing her breast and teasing the nipple through her shirt. Her other hand she kept on Fleur’s head, stroking her, guiding her, till the pressure started to build dangerously.

That’s when Cheerilee pulled away. Fleur pouted, the smallest sound of complaint passing her lips before she hastily swallowed this down at her teacher’s stern look.

“We’re almost there, Fleur,” Cheerilee said breathlessly. She dropped her sweatpants, stepping out of them hastily, before pulling her shirt off over her head. Her breasts, much larger than Fleur’s swung as Cheerilee leaned forward and touched her student just under the chin. “Turn around.”

Fleur did so, blinking as she licked at her cum-slick lips. Cheerilee undid the rope binding her student’s arms, then she pulled the younger woman up and pointed at the bed. “Take everything off. Lie on your back. On the bed. Go.”

This instruction caused Fleur to glance at Cheerilee nervously before quickly complying.

Cheerilee buried her hands in her hair, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Just a little more. Just hold on.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to find Fleur lying horizontally in the bed, her head turned Cheerilee’s way with shivering anticipation.

Cheerilee stalked around until she was at Fleur’s feet, then from the inside, she grabbed just under her student’s knees and pushed her legs up and back. Fleur gasped, shifting back as if to move out of the way, but then her master, her teacher, grabbed her by the throat and pushed her down. Not with her whole weight, but enough to get Fleur to hold very still. Cheerilee pushed her knees up onto the mattress just under and around her student’s legs, sliding in so that her pussy ground up against Fleur’s. Her subby student was so wet, she was already dripping onto the bed.

The sweet, doe-eyed Fleur gaped up at Cheerilee, her breaths coming in little excited huffs, one burning lock of pale pink hair glinting in her gaze as the rest fanned behind her. Her feet bounced up in the air as Cheerilee slowly, steadily tribbed against Fleur’s stiff clit, gently rocking the girl, fucking her like only a woman could. Her face was flush as she breathed heavily and moved her hips, fireworks of pleasure erupting through her groin with every slick tweak of her clit. “Does my good girl know better now?”

“Y-Yes, madame.”

“Prench.”

Fleur moaned, her hands clutching at the violet bed sheets. “Oui, madamoiselle.”

“You want to fucking make it up to me?”

“Oui!”

“Open your mouth and take a fucking breath. Right now.”

Fleur’s wide eyes locked onto hers before she inhaled sharply, obeying quickly. Both of Cheerilee’s hands went to Fleur’s throat, her fingers pressing firmly but deliberately against the sides, just below the jawline. The pressure was controlled, enough to restrict blood flow slightly but not enough to stop her breath entirely.

Cheerilee leaned in closer, her gaze never leaving Fleur’s face. Her movements were intentional, her focus unwavering. Every flicker of Fleur’s expression—her parted lips, the flutter of her lashes, the soft rise and fall of her chest—was a silent conversation, a reassurance that both were exactly where they wanted to be.

Fleur’s mouth was still open. Cheerilee worked up a glob and spat it into Fleur’s mouth, a small string of it trailing down Fleur’s delicate chin. Fleur released a strangled groan, her tongue clumsily seeking the morsel that hadn’t made it.

With her hair curtaining around them, Cheerilee tribbed gently, her arms locked straight as she fucked her student. Fleur’s eyes fluttered, her pupils dilating again as her face flushed a deeper red. Cheerilee watched carefully, counting the seconds as the tension in her grip eased. Then, with practiced precision, she released Fleur’s throat.

Fleur sucked in a breath, then coughed softly, her chest rising and falling deeply with each gulp of air. A visible shiver ran through her as oxygen and blood surged back to her brain, no doubt leaving her light-headed and tingling. Cheerilee watched, seeing the glassy euphoria take hold of her sub as her complexion slowly returned to normal.

Then Cheerilee grabbed Fleur roughly by the face and forced those dreamy eyes on her, her fingers digging into her sub’s cheeks as she started to trib faster, making the bed creak with every heated motion. They locked gazes, Cheerilee’s green eyes boring into Fleur’s violet gaze as their cunts slid, clits grinding, pussy lips kissing wetly with their lust.

Fleur’s face tensed amidst her euphoric trance, her body arching stiffly as she let out a great cry. Cheerilee watched her face hungrily, savoring the wild ecstasy that engulfed her pupil, before she felt that same great wave crest high, then crash mightily down upon her. Cheerilee shouted, squeezing her eyes shut before gradually slowing to a twitching stop. She sat there a moment, panting, washed in the lambent pleasure of her climax. Then she felt a hand on her cheek and looked down at Fleur who, with red marks on her throat, smiled up at her.

“Are you okay?” Cheerilee panted.

“Yes,” Fleur breathed back. She turned her gaze up to the ceiling, her lips parted.

“I mean it, Fleur. Are you all right?” Cheerilee ran a hand over Fleur’s throat, then the bite mark on her sub’s breast. Maybe ice was needed? Her nipples certainly looked tender.

“Yes, Cheerilee. I am fine.” Fleur rolled her eyes, swatting half-heartedly at the Domme’s handsy inspection.

Cheerilee gave her a disapproving look and the younger woman huffed but stopped interfering. It gave Cheerilee a chance to better note the red welts on her partner’s chest, arms, and legs. One boob, the one sporting a purplish bite mark over the heart, had more ruddy bruises than the other from the crop whip abuse. Fleur had assured her such things were easy to cover. The teacher was just glad her sub wasn’t having circulation issues. The ropes left some marks, but most looked like they’d fade within the day.

Cheerilee slid off Fleur, settling onto the mattress next to her. She enjoyed the feel of the cool silk sheets on her hot bare skin.

“Do I pass inspection, doctor?” Fleur asked with a smirk.

The older woman returned the expression. “Nothing some ice and ointment won’t fix…” Then she chuckled. “You realize this means you have to read Kantor later, you know that right?”

Fleur, who had been sitting up to stretch, did a double take. “What?? Aw, Cheerilee, do not be cruel!”

Cheerilee snapped her fingers. “Drat. See there’s the catch, Fleur. The crueler the homework, the funnier it is.”

Fleur crossed her arms and pouted.

Cheerilee laughed and reached over to rub her back. “My poor baby. Will taking a shower with me make up for it?” And it was a genuine question because the scene was over. It was always over when they both climaxed. Unless they’d discussed more orgasms beforehand, but usually they aimed for just one. Their game for the evening was done if not everything else about their unique relationship. Certain personas went back into the toybox, so to speak. But like a phantom, certain aspects remained.

Cheerilee was still responsible for Fleur’s safety and well-being. Fleur was still expected to support and honor Cheerilee’s lead. But now there wasn’t the strictness. Now there was more space for other things, like Cheerilee’s doting and Fleur’s mischief.

Fleur took a deep breath, then sighed, her smile widening. “Yes. I think it will.” She winked, “If you kiss me first, cher.”

Cheerilee smirked but sat up and kissed Fleur tenderly, one hand buried in her partner’s hair. She loved her sub’s soft, sensuous lips. She still tasted faintly of sweet wine.

When they entered into the shower together, Cheerilee listened to how much Fleur enjoyed the choking. It was only the second time they’d done it together, but Fleur found she really liked breath play. Cheerilee cautioned that Fleur shouldn’t do it with just anyone. The kink was high risk. Fleur cheekily replied that no one else could take her breath away like Cheerilee could. Cheerilee gave her a light swat on the butt, rolling her eyes at the corny pickup line. Fleur dared to playfully swat Cheerilee’s breast in retaliation, delighting in the way it rippled. Cheerilee won the exchange when she pinched Fleur’s nipple and twisted.

“Oww!” Fleur squeaked, cupping her breast. She shoved her partner gently, barely moving her as she stuck out her tongue. “Cheerilee, you bully!”

“Sensitive much?” Cheerilee laughed softly, reaching for a towel. “I’ll grab the lanolin for you.”

When they were done, they cuddled on the couch with bowls of Moose Tracks ice cream. The rich chocolate ribbons and peanut butter cups began to melt in the warmth of the room. Fleur shamelessly used her cold bowl on her nipples and the bite mark on her breast.

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow at her sub. “Resourceful,” she said dryly as she stood up and went to the refrigerator. “But you’re still getting the proper ice pack.”

They watched a documentary about consumerism. It talked about over-manufacturing and its impact on the environment. It also touched on the impacts on people’s mental health.

Cheerilee sleepily turned the TV off when the show ended. “See?” she said through a yawn. “This society is a mess. It just wants us to buy, buy, buy… But even if my life isn’t glamorous, I’m happy. I get to teach and have fun with the next generation. I earn just enough to fuel my hobby. I don’t really want for anything these days. Things don’t make us happy. Healthy relationships and positive support do.”

Fleur chuckled deep in her throat. Cheerilee looked at her curiously. “What?”

“That’s why,” Fleur said, smiling gently as she put her empty bowl down on the coffee table.

“What do you mean?” Cheerilee asked, blinking drowsily at her.

“To your earlier question. Why did I choose to be with you? That’s the reason.”

Cheerilee lifted her eyebrows. “Because I’m not glamorous?” she asked wryly.

Fleur laughed and rolled her eyes. “No, silly. Because you knew how to be happy with less, and I was miserable with so much. I wanted your secrets. Like how you got so many children to love you.” She bit her lip and hugged Cheerilee’s arm. “Instead, you gave me everything. You gave me purpose. A place to belong,” she whispered, as though she couldn’t quite believe it herself. “Do you know how precious this is to me, mon ami? You cared for me. The real me. Not my wealth or my fame.”

Cheerilee felt her heart squeeze. “It…stands to reason. You’re worth everything.”

Fleur settled in closer as Cheerilee felt a tremor shoot through her. Her lover’s voice was barely a breath. “I love you, Cheerilee.”

Cheerilee closed her eyes and smiled faintly. She gently laid a hand on Fleur’s arm and opened her mouth. Then she snapped her mouth shut, struck by all the times in the past when her relationships hadn’t panned out. She swallowed hard, her throat tight. Then she opened it again and slowly murmured. “I…love you, Fleur.”

They sat in the dark of the living room, their warmth mingling as they listened to the buzz of the refrigerator and the night song of crickets outside—together—not just in love, but learning what it meant to give and receive it fully.

Because love, like learning, never ended—and Cheerilee hoped they would always discover it together.

Author's Note

Does this feel like it's done? Well...it would have been had Fleur not put a gun to my muse's head and insisted I keep writing their story.

I didn't really want another incomplete story in my story list, but I'll try and do my best to bring this to a conclusion. Even if it doesn't get there...well, you'll always have this perfect night to enjoy.

I like to select "end credit" songs for each chapter I write, but for the life of me I couldn't find one that encapsulated everything important in this chapter. I settled on Billy Idol's Flesh for Fantasy. Got any song suggestions, guys?

Anyway...shoo! Go to the next chapter you silly billies.