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Headmistress

By: skip.69



This is a true story, although some parts may not be completely accurate as I am relying on the memory of something which happened some ten years ago. I must confess, though, that whilst 95% of it is true, Tina did not dance with anyone in the bar – that part is pure fiction, although she did go into the bar dressed like that. Everything else in the story is based on absolute truth.

*

As a bookseller of specialist books, mainly educational and special needs, I had occasion more than once to go into a primary school to see the Head Teacher. It happened that the school I am going to tell a story about had a headmistress, a Mrs. Fletcher. I duly knocked on the door of her study, whereupon a voice called out for me to enter. I walked in to find a quite attractive woman in her thirties squatting down on her heels, knees widely apart, and facing me as she was gathering together some papers. She must not have been expecting me, for in this position it was obvious that she not only was wearing black nylon stockings and suspenders, but she was also not averse to lacy black french knickers, as her loose gusset was distinctly on show.

She blushed momentarily, saying she thought it was one of the infants coming to see her, and stood upright. Her black skirt was fairly short, though, but long enough to cover the tops of her stockings, so that it was not as apparent whether she wore stockings or tights, although I already knew. Her top was a white blouse, though, and, as befitted her profession, quite opaque. Nevertheless I could not help noticing quite firm breasts beneath it. My mind was already looking at her in this way after my initial stroke of luck!

She was quite attractive, as I said, and her manner was quite apologetic, considering that it was me who ought to have apologised for having deliberately stared at her display.

But besides being charming to look at, she also had a charming manner, especially when she laughed, although still a little embarrassed, and said, "But I don't suppose you saw anything you've never seen before, have you?"

There was something about her manner which made me a little flippant, and I answered that I had seen similar before, but not exactly the view she had just shown me. Her embarrassment disappeared quickly, though, and we talked business for a few minutes. Then a remark of hers set me off being flippant again. "You have one or two things here which I have never seen before," she said, but there was something about her voice which made me risk replying, "Like I have seen some things I had never seen before!"

She looked me fully in the eyes, her eyes doing all the smiling, as she mischievously replied, "Touché. You'd better warn me in advance next time you call in case I don't have as much on as I did this time!"

The banter seemed to have been leading up to this, although it took some time to reach this stage, but I could sense that she was actually flirting, or even being more daring with her words, as if to see how far I would go/

I risked being thrown out, though, as I decided that she was actually giving me the "come-on". If I were wrong I would have to leave the entire area quickly, before she reported me to higher authorities. So I risked my next reply.

"You mean you would actually not mind if I saw you like that again?" I ventured, ready to run if necessary.

She smiled, though, as she said, "It all depends. I would not want you running round telling all and sundry. It would not do my reputation much good."

I felt I was on surer ground from now on.

"I think the answer to that is that I can keep my mouth shut, and in return I'd like to invite you out to my hotel for dinner. May I?"

She hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Are you staying close by?"

I told her that I was actually in a nearby town, and gave her the name of my hotel.

"All right." she agreed. "I doubt if anyone knows me there, so I'll come round to the hotel at about seven o'clock, after I have given my husband a meal. I'll tell him that I have to go to a Head Teacher meeting, and that there will be a finger buffet so that I do not need to eat before leaving home. Where shall I meet you?"

"In the bar," I answered, inwardly screaming with joy.

"By the way, my name is Christina – Tina for short. Unlike the girl who was called Virginia, and she was called Virgin for short – but not for long!" I know that was an old joke, but that is exactly what she said to me, and so I repeat it now.

I gave her my name, Jeff, and she smiled. "I've never been out with a 'Jeff': before," she smiled. "There is always a first time for everything!"

As I made to leave she said, "Shall I come in what I am wearing now, or shall I change first?"

"Entirely up to you," I replied, and then left her.

But I was now also apprehensive. Had she just been leading me on, or was she being genuine? I would only find out when she either came to the hotel or she didn't.

I booked a table for two, though, to be on the safe side, and went into the bar to wait for her, after having a shower, a shave, and applying quite an amount of lotion so as to smell sweet. 

I was facing the bar, though, with my back to the door when I heard her voice behind me.

"I'll have a large gin and tonic," I heard her say, and I turned to see a real vision. She had been quite professionally dressed when I had met her in school, but now she was more provocatively attired. She had on a one-piece dress, the top of which plunged deeply to below her breasts, giving a view of the swellings at each side of her cleavage. I doubted whether she could have been wearing a bra or it would have shown. The rest of her dress was short but substantial.

We sat down and made small talk as my eyes drank in her attractiveness, and I soon became aware that her skirt was actually much shorter than the one she had worn in school. No stockings were apparent this time - the skirt would have been too short for stockings, or the tops would have been on show. She leaned towards me to whisper, causing her loose top to hang a little forward so that I was looking straight down between her lovely breasts.

"I did decide that I ought to change," she whispered, leaning even close to me, so as not to be overheard. "And I thought that as you had already seen my sexy panties once you would not be quite as interested in them a second time - so I have left them off! And I've left off my stockings and suspenders for the same reason. In fact, apart from my shoes, this mini-dress is all that I am wearing!"

I could scarcely maintain any composure, until she said, huskily, "So shall we eat first, and then I think you should show me your room. I have never been in the bedrooms in this hotel before and I would like to see one in case I have to recommend this hotel to anyone in the future."

I've forgotten what we had to eat, but we got through a whole bottle of wine, then I led the way, as each of us carried a glass - hers with gin, mine with whisky, so that we would have glasses in the bedroom, where I already had two bottles, which I had bought on my way back to the hotel "just in case".

I was about to take the lift, but she told me that she preferred the staircase so that she could go in front. She was forward! It meant that by following close behind her I had a glorious view right up the rear of her flimsy skirt which swung at each step, although not quite enough to show what she had told me was a bare bottom.

It was enough, though, to make me even hornier, and as I stood aside to let her enter the room ahead of me she calmly walked forwards and shrugged the whole thing off! Apart from her shoes she was completely naked, and she hastily kicked those off, too. She turned to face me, brazenly displaying her well-formed breasts with delightfully hardened tips of her nipples, and an openly displayed pussy as smooth as the day she had been born. "I shaved it especially for you," she explained. "My husband couldn't care less. He is only interested about once a month, and that is when he has had a few, just to relieve himself. As soon as he has cum he goes to sleep. Please, Jeff, hug me tenderly. Don't just fuck me - make love to me. Please."

For the next couple of hours we cuddled, kissed, stroked, and managed to fuck at least three times, but all part of the loving session we had together. Eventually, though, she had to go home. She gave me her school telephone number so that I could call her whenever I was in the area, and I made sure that I was so for the next three months, about twice a week, when she would come out to my hotel for us to make love.

On one occasion when I called her she said she wanted to see some more books, and would I call with my case. I did so, expecting it to be a genuine request, but I called at the reception office and spoke to her secretary, as was the correct course to take. But the secretary, Sheila, who (I suspected) knew a lot more about my visit than she was letting on, said mysteriously, "Tina is expecting you. But she wants you to knock first and say who you are through the door before she opens it. She says she wants to be sure who it is before she will answer!" She gave me a sly wink, as if to say that she knew what was waiting for me. I did wonder about that, but on my next visit I was actually sure that she knew everything, was also a "confidential" secretary!!!

Anyway, to continue.

I knocked on the door, but there was no reply. I knocked again, then remembered what Sheila had told me, and said quietly, "It is Extra Books Ltd. Are you available, please, Mrs. Fletcher?

I hard a slight shuffle inside the room, and Tina's voice came back, "Who? I am quite busy at present. What name is it?"

"Jeff," I called softly, whereupon I heard the key turn in the lock, and Tina's voice saying, "The door is unlocked now. Please come in."

I turned the handle and went inside, but she was nowhere to be seen, until she suddenly appeared from inside a small store-room. 

I could now see the reason for her reluctance to open the door to anyone else. She was completely naked! Quickly she crossed to me and we met in a passionate kiss, cupping my balls with one hand as we did so. Next second she had my hard penis in her hand, and was examining it closely, as she said, "If only Sheila could see this now! I have told her how magnificent it is, but a description is not the same as seeing it in the flesh, is it! I would call her in to look, but it would mean she would be out of reception, and someone else could come in without our knowledge. Anyway, I hope you don't mind, but I have brought my Polaroid camera. Will you please pose for me so that I can give her a print?"

I was a little dubious at first, but then gave in on condition she allowed me to take some of her, too. This we did, and I was so pleased, although I had to keep them in my business brief-case for safety. 

After that we fucked on her desk, then again on the floor, until she suddenly jumped up at the sound of the school bell, announcing break period. Quickly we made ourselves respectable, although I was thrilled when she made no move to put on any panties. 

She then led me into the staff-room, where she introduced me to the staff as a book representative, and we all drank tea. She then left me for a few minutes, as she had work to do, and called on Sheila to give her a hand.

At the end of the break, though, Sheila returned with Mrs. Fletcher's apologies, but she had to teach next lesson. She then asked me to pick up an order from her on my way out.

I finished my tea, then picked up my case, and called at the office to ask about the order.

Sheila just grinned and handed me an A4 envelope, and told me to open it when I was in the car!

When I did so, fully expecting the prints that Tina had made, I saw that they were all there, plus another one which I then recognized as Sheila! She was sitting gazing at the easily discernable photograph of my engorged penis in one hand, whilst the other one was noticeably busy. I say busy, as she was sitting with both her feet on the edge of her desk, knees parted, with her hand actually underneath her knickers gusset, obviously playing with herself!

I almost decided to turn back and go in the school again to see her, but if I had been seen someone would have wondered why I had returned. No, I decided. I should leave what I wanted to say to Sheila next time I came to the school.

I did call, in fact, a week later, making the excuse that I was delivering the order, but a stranger was sitting in Sheila's place. I enquired, and was told that the usual secretary (as I described her) was away with a dreadful cold, and that the one to whom I was speaking (a bit of an ogre, she looked) was temporarily in her place. When I enquired if I could see Mrs. Fletcher I was curtly told that she (the temporary secretary) was perfectly capable of receiving and signing for an order!

So I had to be content with that, but I was also unable to contact Tina as this dragon would have intercepted the call, which had to be made through her. 

Anyway, a week later, by turning up outside the school gates early in the morning I noticed that Sheila was back again, and so I waited for school to get started and around 10.00am I telephoned through.

Sheila answered, and I gave my name and asked to be put through to the headmistress (being careful in case anyone else could overhear.) Immediately Tina came through and the first thing she asked me was why I had delivered the order via the secretary and not directly to her. I explained about the ogre, and she laughed.

"She's not like that, really," she said. "She was trying to protect me. There are some funny people try to get into schools these days. So if I accept your apology tell me how you are going to apologise."

"Can I take you out to dinner?" I asked.

"If you want me to do that you can come here in person and ask," she laughed.

I replaced the phone and drove to the school. As I entered Sheila saw me, grinned, and motioned me to wait a minute. She then picked up the phone, and, presumably, called through to Tina. No-one else was around, and I was amused when she rummaged in her desk, and help up to me the picture of my penis which Tina had taken a couple of weeks ago.

She then put down the phone, and said, enigmatically, "She is getting ready to see you now, so give her a minute, please. And, while you are waiting, can I say that should she ever be too busy any evening, I would not be averse to showing you a few of the sights of this neighbourhood!" And she gave me a broad wink.

But just then the phone went again, and she answered, at the same time pointing me towards Tina's room.

As was now becoming the norm, as I entered her room the first things I saw were her delicate panties carefully arranged on her desk, indicating the obvious fact that she had already taken them off for me. Tina was sitting back in her chair, her skirt drawn up revealing her stockinged and suspendered thighs but still hiding the object of my immediate passion.

Then, ever so slowly, she peeled back the skirt hem until her puffy lips appeared, glistening and swollen. She remained like this for a few seconds, then suddenly jumped up, snatching the fastening to her skirt and flinging it to one side, before tumbling onto the floor, where she lay back with legs parted, begging for my cock. I was almost as quick, and within a couple of seconds I was inserted right inside, with no attempt at foreplay, which would have been unnecessary as she was already so hot and expectant.

It was while we were so absorbed in each other, though, that we had an annoying interruption. The telephone rang. Now it could only have been Sheila who had put the call through, and (I assumed) she knew that we would be so annoyed at being disturbed, so it must have been urgent for her to have done this.

With a curse Tina grabbed the phone, and almost barked, "Yes?"

She listened momentarily, and then put the phone down with a curse.

"It is the Education Officer to see me." She said angrily. "What the hell does he think he is doing – interrupting a moment like this?"

As she was speaking she was dressing quickly, and so was I.

In a few seconds we were both respectably dressed, and she was pressing a perfumed spray to hide any smell of sex which might be in the air.

I gave her a quick kiss, then opened the door to thank her audibly for seeing me, and moved towards the office, where a man was talking to Sheila. She looked at me with no sign of knowing me, and I thanked her for allowing me to see Mrs. Fletcher, whereupon she said quite formally, "That's all right. Shall we see you again next year?"

After these formalities I was able to leave and drove away.

Later that day I telephoned through, but Tina was busy, so Sheila told me, but that she sent her apologies, and Sheila herself sent her own thanks for helping cover up the situation. "And don't forget,"! she added seductively," that my invitation is still there for a tour of the neighbourhood should you ever be at a loose end in this area." And with that the phone went dead.

Next day was Friday, and I called again to apologise if I had compromised Tina in any way, and Sheila put me straight through.

"Oh, I am glad you called," said Tina. "I must apologise for the interruption yesterday," she began, but I interrupted her. "That doesn't matter," I said. "It is only to be expected from time to time when we are sailing so close to the wind by meeting in school. But I am ringing about another matter. I shall not be going home this weekend. My wife is away on a course, and so I would be on my own. Is there any chance of meeting during the next two days?"

"More a chance than you would imagine," she almost shouted. "I am going on a course for teachers this weekend, leaving this evening until Sunday evening. I have a friend who would cover for me, if necessary, and I can ask her to do so and to give my apologies, saying that I have a domestic problem to be resolved. Are you staying in the same hotel?"

I told her that I was, and she promised to meet me there. "What is your room number?" she asked. "I can then come straight up to your room."

I told her, and she then apologised as she had arrangements to make fairly quickly, after promising to come to my hotel as soon as she possibly could, and rang off.

So, at around six o'clock I was sitting in my room, waiting expectantly, when a knock came on the door. I opened it to find Tina, of course, who flung her arms round me as we kissed ardently in the open doorway. When we finally broke away for her to come inside I saw that she was wearing what she would normally wear in school, although she had a small overnight case in her hand.

"I had to pretend, at least," she laughed. "My husband would have been suspicious had I changed into something sexy to go to a teacher's conference. But I hope what I have in this case will be more pleasing."

With that she went to the bed and opened her case, taking out various garments one by one and holding them up as she described them.

"I presume we will be going to dinner together," she began, as she took out a black silk mini-dress, which seemed sheer enough to be almost transparent.

"Yes," she giggled. "It is rather see-through, but I intend wearing a bra and panties under it, although it does mean that everyone else would also be able to see them. I'm sure you won't mind, and I doubt if the waiters will, although there may be some prudes amongst the diners who might. You will have to make sure we are in a more or less secluded corner, won't you?"

"I'm sure that can be arranged," I told her, as she continued to bring out items.

"So - underneath that dress I shall not wear stockings or tights, but just this bra", and she held up a black lacy bra which appeared to have quite tiny cups, "and these!" Here she held up a tiny scrap of black chiffon attached to which were two black strings. I doubted whether it would even cover her essentials, but who was I to object?


Headmistress



The school and university system of England is a strange, anomaly-ridden thing. It has grown up haphazardly over centuries, subject to the caprices of tradition and political whim, baffling to the outsider. One of the anomalies is that the great medieval universities of Oxford and Cambridge (collectively "Oxbridge") select part of their student intake on the basis of special exams which take place half a year after when most pupils leave school. And, of course, most of the schools which can, practically speaking, afford to keep a select group of pupils on for half a year extra are the private ones, the most expensive and exclusive of which are, most bafflingly of all, known as "Public Schools". You will have heard of some of these: Eton and Winchester for boys, Roedean and Bedales for girls. As a result, the English school system at any given time contains a cohort of pupils aged over 18 who are spending one extra term at expensive private schools, either at their parents' expense or, for some lucky few of those from poorer families, supported by charitable scholarships, all in the fervent hope of getting into Oxbridge. Furthermore, in these financially straitened times, it is not at all uncommon for a school dedicated to one gender to open its doors to pupils of the other, for this advanced tuition.

Excuse the history lesson; you did not come here for that. But I hope it serves to introduce the scene we are about to witness. Not at Eton or Roedean, but at the less well known, although no less proud, establishment of St Wendreda's Ladies' College, somewhere in the south of England, where Miss Price, the ambitious young Headmistress (teachers in Public Schools are known as Masters and Mistresses) has this year decided to admit boys to the school for Oxbridge entrance tuition.

It is a sunny autumn afternoon and Miss Price is in her rather daunting oak-panelled study, the portraits of her predecessors frowning down upon her. She is catching up on some mundane paperwork. Wednesday afternoons at St Wendreda's are devoted to sport, in line with the school's professed philosophy that a healthy body fosters a healthy mind. Through the slightly open window, Miss Price can hear the high, clear voices of the senior girls playing netball and, somewhere further away, the deeper shouts of the boys at football practice. Miss Price is calm and satisfied; the experiment of admitting boys has so far been a success, to judge from the first month or so. Not only financially, but in terms of bringing a certain variety, spice even, to her beloved school community. 

The sounds from outside die away as the sports lessons come to an end and the pupils troop in from the playing fields and netball courts to shower and change. Miss Price has finished with one pile of paperwork and pauses for a moment to contemplate her grand surroundings and the long journey from humble roots that brought her here. If only her mother had lived to see it. 

Her musing is interrupted by a soft knock at her study door. She stands up. "Come in!" A pause, then another knock. The door is thick, and people do not always hear her voice. She walks to the door and opens it, then stops dead in bewilderment.

Standing outside the door is Paul, one of the most gifted Oxbridge entrance boys (Miss Price's policy of calling her pupils by their first names is regarded as daringly progressive by her peers). Miss Price knows him as a shy, studious boy, rather awkward in social interaction, but an exceptional academic talent. Paul is trembling and tearful. He has a damp towel wrapped around his lower body and does not appear to be wearing anything else at all apart from his glasses. Miss Price composes herself and speaks calmly but firmly.

"Paul, what on earth is going on?"

Paul can barely get his words out. "Miss ... I'm sorry, it's just Miss Jackson said I had to come and see you straight away. I've done something bad, Miss." 

Cathy Jackson is the head of girls' sport, coaches the netball team and is a formidable woman, unafraid to take disciplinary matters into her own hands. If she is escalating something straight to the Headmistress, it must be serious. And, thinks Miss Price, how would Paul have attracted Cathy's attention? Their paths should have no reason to cross. Something is very strange here.

"Come in, Paul. Stand in front of my desk there, that's right. Now tell me, in your own words, exactly why Miss Jackson sent you here, and why you are only wearing a towel. Take all the time you need, but I need the whole truth."

"Miss, you know this school is a really old building ..."

"Of course. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well some of the rooms have changed use over the years. Sorry Miss, I'll start at the beginning. We all had sport this afternoon. Football for boys and netball for girls. And we came back in and showered. And I was first in the shower and first out."

This seems irrelevant, but she had asked for the whole truth. "Go on, Paul."

"And ... and ... well like I said the rooms used to be different. I had heard other boys say that if you go to the back of the sports equipment storeroom there is still a door there that would lead through to the girls' changing room. It's been locked for years but you can see through the keyhole ..."

Ah, thinks Miss Price, now I see where this is going. Oh my God what has he done ...

"So ... so ... I sneaked in there straight after my shower ... I was there ... at the keyhole ... the girls were on the other side, showering and getting changed. And ... and ... I was watching them, Miss ..." His voice was barely audible.

"Is there more, Paul?"

"Miss Jackson came in to the storeroom to put some stuff away. She found me, Miss. She said I had to come straight to you."

"And that's it, is it?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Paul?"

"Miss, I don't know how to say this ..."

"Clearly and truthfully would be my advice ..."

"Miss, when Miss Jackson found me, I was ... I was ..."

"What, Paul?" But she has guessed.

"I was touching myself, Miss. And she saw what I was doing."

Miss Price looks down at her desk for a long time. Stupid little bastard, she thinks. Why can't he just watch porn on his phone like all the other boys? The implications of this are gigantic.

"Paul, listen to me carefully. Does anyone else besides Miss Jackson, you and me know about this? Did the girls know you were watching them?"

"No Miss. I'm sure about that." That at least was good. She trusted Cathy Jackson to keep quiet and await further instructions from her.

"Did you ejaculate? Is there any physical trace of what happened?"

"No Miss."

"Do you freely admit to what you have done? Did anyone force you? Is there anything about what you have said that you want to change?"

"No Miss. It was just me. It was my fault."

"Paul, we have here a prima facie case of gross misconduct. Now, as you know, usually this would be dealt with by means of a meeting between you, me, your parents and a representative of the school Governors, and we would agree on a warning, suspension or exclusion from the school. But what you need to understand is that this process takes place in the public domain. Word of your actions would get out - to other pupils and their parents, and inevitably into the media. And if it were to become widely known that my policy to admit boys had led to us harbouring a voyeur, you can imagine the outcome. Parents would withdraw their daughters from the school, maybe even so many that the school was no longer viable. If it closed - after more than 150 years of illustrious history, Paul! - it would ruin the life chances of all the pupils, and the careers of all the staff. The only way to save the school would be for me to resign. I would never work in education again. There would in any case be an official enquiry by the education authorities, and quite possibly the police. Do you begin to understand the seriousness of this situation?"

Paul is weeping uncontrollably. "I am so sorry Miss ..."

"I believe that you are, Paul. But that is not enough. You need to be punished for what you have done, and have your behaviour corrected for the future. Now, as this is a private school I do have a certain amount of discretion on disciplinary matters. It is a many years since a Headmistress at St Wendreda's has invoked her right to dispense a summary punishment of her choice as an alternative to the conventional process, but I think the time has come. Stand close to my desk, Paul." She gets up and stands behind him as he approaches the desk. "Drop your towel to the floor." 

"Miss ...?"

"Do as I say. Drop the towel. Bend over the desk so your palms and elbows are flat on it. Look straight down. Do not move from that position, or cry out. I am about to administer corporal punishment."

He assumes the position according to her instructions. She stands behind him and begins to spank his slim, pale buttocks, hard and rapidly. She is petite and her hands are small, but all her fury at the danger Paul has put her in goes into the spanking. He does his best not to yell in pain, but cannot help whimpering and gasping. "Yes, Paul, I know it hurts. It is meant to. It's a punishment." She does not let up. His bottom flushes a deep red. Even individual small hand marks are visible on his pallid skin. Tears start to fall from his eyes onto the leather surface of the desk.

She only stops when her arm starts to ache. She steps back, her face pink from the exertion. Paul is weeping silently over her desk.

"Turn and face me, Paul, with your hands at your sides."

"Please Miss, I can't ... please don't make me ..."

"You heard me, Paul, stand up and look at me."

"But Miss ... I've ... I've ..."

"What, Paul?"

"I've ... got ... I've got an erection, Miss."

"That is immaterial, Paul. Turn to face me."

Slowly, he stands and turns, hands by his sides as she had ordered. His body is pale and skinny, small-boned. Almost hairless apart from a shock of thick, dark, pubes, from which his fully erect cock emerges and points, insolently, at Miss Price.

Well well, she thinks. Watch out for the quiet ones. Who would have thought that bookish, shy little Paul would be so impressively endowed.

"Paul, I have punished you for your offence. But now we need to look a little deeper to understand your behaviour and correct it in the future. What moved you to take such a risk when you decided to spy on the girls? In this day and age there are plenty of ways for a young man to see a female body, should he wish."

"Miss, my parents are really strict. Mum searches my room at home. They keep the computer in the living room and are always around when I use it. Dad works in IT, he's really clever at finding deleted files and browsing histories. They never gave me any sex education; they said I should focus 100% on studying if I wanted to get to Oxford. They withdrew me from sex education lessons in secondary school, said they didn't approve. Miss, the girls here are so beautiful in their short skirts and tight blouses, I think about them all the time, I just wanted so much to see more of them ..." he starts crying again.

"You know, Paul, in some ways I feel sorry for you. You feel under pressure at home and at school to excel academically, so much so that there is no outlet for some of your natural instincts. Tell me, Paul, what did you see through the keyhole?"

"Miss ...?"

"I want to understand you better. Tell me what you were looking at, that excited you so much."

He takes a deep breath, then the words flow from him. "The girls from the netball team were coming out of the showers. They were all completely naked, towelling themselves off. A couple of them started talking about ... about sports bras, Miss. Saying that netball was more difficult if you have ... er ... if you have bigger breasts. Because of all the running and jumping. There was a lot of talk about breasts and somehow it then got into a discussion about who had the biggest ones and therefore needed the best quality sports bra. They were laughing and giggling. Someone said they should make it official, who had the biggest breasts in the team. So they made Marie the judge, as she has very small ones so it was never going to be her. And it came down to a kind of contest between Emily and Laura. Marie made them stand next to each other with their chests pushed out. They were all giggling like crazy. Marie looked very closely at Emily's and Laura's chests, she was even touching their breasts to feel how heavy they were. And she decided that although Laura has really big ones, they are quite, sort of ... they sort of stick out, they are sort of firm, but Emily's are similar size, very big as well, but they are sort of round and heavy. So she said Emily needed the best sports bra. But she gave a consolation prize to Laura for having the biggest nipples, they really protrude. Emily's nipples are kind of small and flat. And I noticed that Karen was sitting on a bench watching all this and I think she had her hand between her legs and was touching herself. And then one of the girls, I don't know who, stood right in front of the keyhole so all I could see was her bottom. And then she bent down to pick something up and I could see ... you know ... everything, between her legs, from behind. And that's when Miss Jackson found me."

Caught up in his story, he seems more confident now. And perhaps even oblivious to the fact that he is still naked, and massively erect.

"Thank you, Paul, I appreciate your honesty. I understand that you are a young man with a healthy sex drive that has never been allowed an outlet. Do you masturbate a lot, Paul?"

"Er ... yes Miss. Every night in bed, every morning when I wake up. And in between especially when I've been around the girls at school."

"Well, masturbation is normal and healthy enough, despite what your parents think. My concern is that your sex drive is so out of control, as shown by the incident today, that you may escalate to even more delinquent behaviour. I feel I should help you divert that sexual energy in a less destructive direction."

"Miss ...? Er, Miss, what are you doing ...?"

She is unbuttoning her plain white blouse. He cannot believe it. She takes it off and folds it over a chair. "My intention is to allow you to express your sexual curiosity in a safe, controlled setting, Paul." She is wearing a pretty, white lacy bra. "You are interested in breast size, aren't you, Paul? Do you find large ones attractive? 

"Uhhh ... yes, Miss."

"Do you know how bra sizes work?"

"Er, no, not really, Miss, I know there are numbers and letters ..."

"The number indicates the measurement around the torso. The letter indicates the size of the bra cups; the further along the alphabet, the larger the woman's breasts in relation to her body. So for someone like you who is strongly breast orientated, the letter is the crucial thing. Now I know for a fact, from the school nurse, that both Emily and Laura take a D cup although, as you have seen, their breasts are differently shaped. Can you guess what my cup size is, Paul?"

"Oh, Miss, er, I don't ... I mean ... I think ... yours seem to be a bit bigger than theirs ... er ... perhaps E cup?"

"Good boy. That's right. Thirty four E, in fact, which means I have fairly small body but large breasts." (Miss Price, five foot one and slim but for her magnificent bosom, used to hate netball when she was at school.) To Paul's amazement, arousal and , if we are honest, terror, she takes off her bra and stands before him with her breasts fully exposed.

"Oh Miss ... oh my God ... they are bigger than Emily's or Laura's. They are beautiful. And nipples even bigger than Laura's, they stick out so much. Oh Miss ..."

"Touch them if you want to."

"Miss ...?"

"Touch them, Paul."

He has unusually small, delicate hands for a man, and as he gently cups Miss Price's great pale globes, they seem to overflow his grasp. "How does that feel, Paul?"

"Miss, they are amazing, it's like they're firm and soft at the same time, heavy and full, I've never felt anything so beautiful. Oh thank you Miss ..." He begins to weep again.

"Shh, Paul, we have not finished yet. Would you like to suck them?"

He does not even reply, just bends down to her chest, holds her left breast up to his mouth and sucks, gently but steadily, on her big nipple. And she is getting very very turned on. For a boy who has never touched a woman before, he is good - gentle and attentive. He moves to the other breast, sucks that one a bit harder. Miss Price cannot stifle a little moan as she feels a rush of warmth to her crotch. "Miss ... sorry ... did I hurt you?"

"Not at all, Paul. The female breast is a very powerful erogenous zone, and your sucking is stimulating me sexually. I will show you more in a moment. Do you see how my nipples are now long and stiff? That is because they contain erectile tissue, like your penis, which responds to sexual arousal."

"Yes Miss."

"You did not go to sex education classes, you said?"

"No Miss, my parents ..."

"If you had, you would know about erogenous zones. Now as you know very well, the primary sign of sexual arousal in the male is penile erection, which you are demonstrating very clearly as we speak. Do you know what the female equivalent is?"

"Er ... not really Miss ... something to do with lubrication, I think ..."

"Broadly correct, Paul. Erection of the clitoris, swelling and softening of the labia, and, as you say, the production of vaginal fluid as a lubricant. Here, I will show you."

Unbelievably, she hitches up her smart grey skirt, above the tops of her black hold-up stockings, and slips off her white lacy panties. She sits back in a venerable-looking leather armchair and spreads her legs wide. "Come here, Paul, and look closely. You'll need to kneel down."

Spellbound, he kneels, naked and still erect, in front of her with his face close to her wet cunt. Using her fingers, she parts the lips ever so slightly. "You see, Paul, clitoris here, outer labia here, inner labia here, and the actual opening to my vagina is ... here. You should be able to see the swelling and arousal, and the wetness of my secretions, very clearly."

Oh, he can see clearly, all right.

"Paul, I suspect that most of the girls in the netball team remove all their pubic hair. It is the fashion these days. You should not believe the myth that female pubic hair is ugly or unhygienic. As you can see, I trim mine around the edges but leave most of it intact."

"It's beautiful, Miss."

"Thank you. Good boy. If you are very, very careful you may touch my genitals so that you know what an aroused woman feels like."

Gingerly he reaches out a fingertip to her clit, to her cunt lips. Traces it gently up and down her wet slit. Probes a little further. Just finds the entrance to her vagina. She is breathing heavily now.

"Paul, do you know what cunnilingus means?"

"No Miss."

"Well perhaps you can guess - you know some Latin."

"Um ... well lingus must be something to do with language, or ... ah yes, tongue." Amazingly, his studious brain has kicked in automatically even in the middle of this outrageous sexual encounter.

"And cunni ... cunnus perhaps ... I know cuneus is wedge ... cunnus, cunni ... oh, I see ..."

"Cunt-licking is what it means, Paul. Would you like to try? I am very close to orgasm and I think it would demonstrate that nicely."

"You want me to lick your cunt, Miss?"

"Yes please, Paul."

He is a natural. Amazing. Very gentle, responsive to her responses. He caresses her clit with his tongue, flicks it softly. Runs his tongue and lips slowly up and down her slit. She pulls her outer labia apart with her fingertips, lets him in deeper. He finds her cunt hole with his tongue, probes it, licks up and down again, gently tongue fucks her, then back up again to her clit.




Headmistress



She comes. She grabs his head, pulls his face onto her crotch, bucks and twitches, gasps, whispers hoarsely, "Ah fuck fuck yes, oh your fucking tongue, yes."

"Miss, are you all right?"

"Yes ... yes Paul, thank you ... did you feel my orgasm against your mouth?"

"Yes Miss, it was very powerful."

"You are a naturally talented cuntlicker, Paul, it is a fine skill to have. Now, of course, we must not forget that you have been aroused ever since you saw the girls in the shower, and I must not let you out of here without releasing that sexual tension."

"Yes Miss."

She sits forward in the chair. "Stand in front of me. I will not ask you to work out the etymology of the word fellatio; I will move straight to the demonstration."

"Oh my God, Miss, you're sucking my cock!"

Miss Price is not only naturally talented, but highly experienced as a cocksucker, and it will not take her long to release Paul's sexual tension. She sucks gently but insistently, using her tongue cunningly on the underside of his swollen glans. She holds his big hard shaft steady with one hand. She uses her other forearm to lift her large breasts up, presenting a target for his imminent emission. The pose is reminiscent of Rubens's painting of Hélène Fourment, but Paul's response is more Jackson Pollock, as a last flick of Miss Price's tongue causes him to deposit a copious spatter pattern of semen onto the soft skin of her breasts. Paul groans as he ejaculates. It is the biggest load of cum he can ever remember producing, and an impressive performance even in Miss Price's extensive experience.

"That's better. Good boy" She squeezes out the last drops.

"Miss, I've made a really big mess on your tits." It's true. It takes a lot of cum to cover Miss Price's boobs but he has made a valiant effort.

"It's all right, Paul."

And they both burst out into hearty laughter, and she stands up from the armchair and they embrace, smearing sperm from her chest to his. The Headmistress's study is a suburban living room, her desk a foldaway dining table. The predecessors' portraits are framed enlargements of holiday photos, Greece mostly, hung on pale painted plaster, not oak panels. There are still some sounds of sports and games outside - Cathy Jackson's kids in the garden next door.

"Fucking hell, Leanne, you were incredible!" 

"You were amazing yourself, babe," says Leanne Sinclair (née Price) to her husband Paul.

"The cunnilingus etymology bit - where the fuck did you get that idea from?"

"Well, I was supposed to be a teacher. And how did you hold out for so long? I was sure you were going to come just from the spanking. Not that I would have minded."

"Do you want to get cleaned up?"

"No, actually let's stay like this for a bit. It's nice."

"Yeah, it is." They curl up on the sofa together, relishing their own aromas of semen and cunt.

"I love you, Paul."

"Love you too, Miss Price."



Headmistress Fortune



[This a short fantasy about strap-on dildoes. There is a lot of teasing but no explicit sex. Despite the lack of it, I hope you will give it a chance and end up enjoying it.]

My wife dragged me to a meeting with Headmistress Fortune to talk the about dress code that her daughter (my stepdaughter) Kristi had been wearing while attending her school. She found it to be too revealing and slutty. Thus, she wanted to have a talk with her on possibly adjusting it. She made an appointment to do it after school hours for that we won’t run into Kristi and cause a scandal. As we walked along the marbled floors and passed by the elegant artwork on the walls, I was still dismal that I should have gone golfing with the guys rather than have this PTA meeting.

I gently tapped at the oak door leading to the headmistress’ office. From behind the heavy door, I heard her stern but silky voice informing us that the door was open and to let ourselves in. Just as she said that, my wife had the sudden urge to go to the ladies room and told me to go in ahead. I sighed in frustration as she walked away disappearing around the corner.

I turned the handle and stepped into her office. I started to introduce myself as I walked towards the huge desk; arm extended for a handshake. Her head was bent down while her hand was busy writing something and pointed to the chair in front of the table. I rolled my eyes as I felt that it was rude of her not to even look up and acknowledge my presence. As I sat down, I caught a whiff of her intoxicating perfume. It was sweet and captivating. I was about to tell her that my wife just went to the loo and will be here in a few minutes, but she cut me off by raising a finger. It was taken aback by her discourteous behavior. Frankly, I was getting angry but this was not my fight. My wife would arrive and if this woman still conducts herself the same way, she would take care of it. 

I watched her soft curly blond hair sway as she intently scribbled on the book. Sensing that she won’t be done soon, I tilted my down and watched my fingers indulge their nervous tapping on my leg. When I heard her lay down her pen and started speaking, I slid up - trying to sit straight as I looked up at her. 

From that moment on, I was hypnotized. My cock shot straight up through the opening of my boxers and painfully pressed against the zipper of my slacks. She introduced herself and started to talk about the school. Although I didn’t understand anything she said, her enchanting voice possessed me like melodies of sweet music. I felt like I was floating on air and the world around me disappeared. Nothing else existed, except for her mesmerizing eyes and luscious lips framed by her shimmering blond hair. I couldn’t help but yearn to taste her mouth as her pink lip gloss reflected enchanting light patterns as she spoke. 

One would think that it was a statue sitting in the other side of the desk, save for the drool running down the side of its mouth. As I watched her stand up, the inviting valley of her cleavage caught my attention. I groaned in response to my cock extended a little more smoothing through the fabric of my pants bending to one side. Being a gentleman, instinctively, I also stood up not realizing that my hard-on would be visible. She walked around the desk and handed me a school brochure. As she looked down at the tent on my pants, my face turned red after I finally realized the awkwardness of my predicament. I started babbling but she just smiled and bit her lower lip. I thought I would cum right then and there. 

My wife knocked and came into the room. As I was about to turn around and greet her, Miss Fortune gently pushed on my shoulder and I sat back down. My wife approached me. Fortunately, I still had the wits to cover myself up with the brochure that Miss Fortune handed me. They greeted each other, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Miss Fortune moved back to her chair behind the desk, while my wife sat down on the chair next to me after tapping me on the shoulder. As my wife discusses her concerns with Miss Fortune, I started flipping through the pages of her brochure. 

I was expecting to find the usual boring history of the school, accreditation and awards, but my eyes almost popped out off its socket as I ogled at the naked picture of Miss Fortune wearing a golden strap-on dildo. My skin of my cock was stretched to the limit and it would be impossible my cock can get any harder, but it did. I looked up at Miss Fortune. She turned her head, met my eyes and saw the shock and lust burning inside me. She gave me that knowing smile and faced my wife anew as they continued with their conversation. I gawked at her beguiling beauty a little more before turning back to the “brochure”. Before I started reading the text, I crossed my legs and shifted in my seat to relieve some of the pressure inside my pants. 

Miss Fortune was the headmistress of a school for women that specialize in the domination of the male species. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. It explained and preached of why and how women are superior to men. It illustrated and revealed men’s weaknesses and how to take advantage of them. It also showed how to keep them docile and accept their rightful place. Every topic was accompanied by still life pictures of couples in domination acts. This was my first time to be exposed to such material; as a result, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to feel disgusted from the degradation the naked men in the pictures, but, yet, I felt extreme arousal and desire to be one of them. They were chained, caged, whipped and other methods of torture. However, after I finally finished perusing the decadent material, I couldn’t help myself but flip back to the cover page and gaze at Miss Fortune with the golden dildo hanging down her crotch. I unconsciously rubbed my hard-on through my pants as I imagine myself bent down on all fours while Miss Fortune rammed my ass with her cock.

As they finally concluded their talk, I was surprised when Miss Fortune addressed me. “Steve, would you mind helping me move some items from the closet? It is just in the next room. It won’t take long.” Her voice echoed through my head and the idea being alone with her, even for just a few minutes, made the hair on my arms stood. I looked at my wife. She stared at me, jokingly frustrated that I didn’t even know what was discussed in the meeting. She excused herself again to go to the ladies before we head home. 

I made sure that my wife was out of sight before I stood with my raging cock threatening to burst through my pants. “I see that you liked our curriculum. Perhaps you should come back alone for a personal tour of our campus.” She teased as she glanced at my penis. My cock twitched and precum seeped out into my pants. My heart was racing. I could not understand how she was able to elicit such raw emotion from me. She took my arms and led me to an adjacent room. My legs seemed to have moved by themselves. She would have escorted me to the burning fires of hell and I would have willingly followed. 

She closed the door behind us and walked around a desk similar to the other room. She opened a drawer and reached in to retrieve something. I gasped as she held up the golden strap-on dildo. I was trapped by her eyes as she strutted towards me with a smirk on her face. 

“Is this what have gotten you so excited?” 

I could not answer. The incredibly strange mixture of fear and desire was boiling in my head. She approached me like a cat stalking its prey. The gleam in her eyes igniting the fiery lust in me. In response, I backed away from her, afraid of my own hunger. She licked her lips in anticipation of her conquest. When my retreat was hindered by the wall, I just closed my eyes in desperation. However, I could still see her advancing towards me in the darkness. 

When her heady scent found my nostrils, I knew she was in front me. My knees melted as her warm breast pressed upon my chest and her thigh rubbed against mine. 

“Open your eyes and look at me, darling.” I did as she said as she brush the strap-on along the side of my face and groped my penis with her other hand. I turned away from her toy but she persisted. 

“Give in to your desire. I know you want to.” 

She brushed it across my lips but I resisted. She kept it there for a while. But after sensing my reluctance, she glided the whole length between my lips.

“Go ahead and part your lips. Surrender to it... There you go… Stick out your tongue and lick it. It’s covered with my juices. Go on. Taste my cum.” 

I was embarrassed but I did what I was told. How could I fight her? At this point, she had my cock out, quivering in her hand. At my state of helplessness, I remembered a passage in her brochure.

“When you control the cock, you control the man.” 

She was right. On any semblance of struggle, she would just knead my meat a little bit rougher and I would give. Within a minute, she had me pumping my head, slipping the dildo in and out of my mouth. 

“Good boy. Now, I want you to put it on me. Hold it inside your mouth and kneel. Good. Put the strap around my hips and lock it. Mmmm… Now. The one that goes underneath my crotch. Very good… Stand up… Turn around… and stroke your cock for me.” 

I was like a puppet. I did everything she asked. 

I held on the wall to steady myself. After a few strokes, she brushed my hand away and replaced it with hers. She leaned her body forward. The warmth and softness of her breast was upon my back. I also felt the cold steel dildo under my balls – rubbing against it. 

“Is this what you want? It feels good when I have my soft fingers around your cock. Isn’t it? How about my strap-on? Would you like to feel it inside you? Would you beg me to de-virginize your anus? Ooohh… You want me to, don’t you?” If she asked me to take off my pants off and fuck my ass while standing I would have let her, but my wife was back and looking for me.

I was about tuck in my penis and zip up my pants but Miss Fortune stopped me. She opened the door and led me out with my penis in her hand. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking at all. 

“Steve and I had been talking. You don’t have to wait until next week to hear my decision. We think that our uniforms are appropriate for our campus and Kristi should continue wearing it. The decision is final.” 

Now my wife was pissed. “Steve. What the hell did you agree to? She is my daughter and I am going to make the decision.” 

What are they talking about? I certainly didn’t agree to anything. I looked at my wife, then at Miss Fortune and back to my wife. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I better say something. But before I was able to make a sound, Miss Fortune’s magical fingers did their trick on me again. All that came out of my mouth was, “Oooohhhh.” Only then did my wife notice that my cock was out of my pants, at full staff and leaking pre-cum as my captor played with my balls. 

“What is the meaning of this?” My wife glared at Miss Fortune and, then, me - looking for answers. Finding none, she furiously walked towards the exit. This seemed to have broken the spell Miss Fortune had over me. I called my wife and chased after her. She was pleased that I was able to fight her control and waited for me. She had her arms around mine as we faced Miss Fortune together. 

She threatened to report the incident to the police but the headmistress didn’t even flinch. She just stood in the middle of the room, holding the golden cock in her hand and looked straight at me. Her stare made my knees weak and took possession of my soul. After her futile threats, my wife yanked me to leave the cursed place. She was unsuccessful. She yelled my name and tried again, I still didn’t move. I was just standing there watching the sexy siren fondle her cock. She gave us a gloating grin as my cock regained its full stiffness. 

“Crawl to me, my pet.” That’s all it took. She knew that I won’t be able to resist her. I was on my knees shuffling across the carpeted floor, mesmerized by the motions of Miss Fortune’s fingers on the golden penis. 

My wife left the school crying and reported it to the police. Of course, nothing happened. The police came by the school for a token investigation. She immediately filed for divorce. Her daughter, Kristi, was taken out of the school and sent to another state to continue her education. At least, that was what she thought. After 2 weeks of absence, she was back in school as Miss Fortune’s understudy.

As for me, I quit my job, sold all my belonging and now live in a room in the basement of the school. The same night that my wife stormed out, Miss Fortune broke my cherry and fucked me for hours. I could barely stand the next morning. I currently serve at the school as a model for students to play with. I had been whipped, slapped, fucked and abused. And I love every minute of it.

[I have something brewing, but it may take a while longer. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and I stayed way past my bedtime to finish this. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, your honest opinion (good or bad) is very much appreciated.] 



Headmistress From Hell



As he walked into the school he felt his anger rising. The new headmistress had only been there for three days and now his son was suspended! Alright, so he had split the other lads lip but they were teenagers, it was only natural to fight at that age. It was hardly his fault that the other lad was a wimp who could not defend himself. He walked quickly along the echoing corridors, past empty classrooms, to the headmistresses study. He grabbed the door handle and wrenched the door open.

"Knock before you enter!"

He stopped in his tracks and then backed out of the room. It was only once he was outside of the door again that he cursed his reflex and wondered what the hell he was doing. He knocked at the door harder than necessary.

"Come!"

He entered the room.

"I'm looking for Hardacre"

"I'm Miss Hardacre"

Now he was completely thrown. He was geared up to meet some old battleaxe. According to his wife Hardacre had previously been head at Peebles Day School for Boys where the record for outstanding academic achievement was second only to its reputation as one of the strictest schools in the country. This woman was not out of her early thirties and, in her immaculately tailored business suit, she looked more like a fashion model than a teacher. Her thick blond hair formed a halo around her perfectly made up face and as she pushed her chair back from the desk his eyes were drawn to her long silk sheathed legs.

She extended a hand 

"Mr Trott, let me introduce Mrs Cole. It was her son that Lee had the altercation with" 

He nodded to the other woman. Under other circumstances he would have found her very attractive, slim, with auburn hair cut pageboy style but Clariss Hardacre's physical presence filled the room like smoke.

"What do you mean by suspending him for one month?"

Clariss Hardacre sat completely unfazed by the outburst. 

"I would call him a very lucky boy. My recommendation to the govenors was that he be expelled. They decided, having talked with Mrs Cole, who has shown remarkable tolerance, that he be given a second chance"

“Expelled ..!" He sat forward in his seat. "It was just a fight for God's sake. In my day you would get six across the backside and then forget about it!"

Clariss raised an eyebrow 

"I can assure you that any boys to whom I administered six would remember it for the rest of their lives"

He laughed. 

"With all due respect you're a female. I was caned by blokes twice your size more times than I care to remember. You just grit your teeth and don't give them the pleasure of knowing they've hurt you. The next day its all forgotten"

Clariss leaned forward her elbows on the table and her chin resting on the backs of her hands. 

"Do you know what that is behind you Mr Trott?"

He craned round and looked at the piece of equipment that dominated the centre of the room. He had paid it no heed on his way in but, now that he looked, it appeared like something more appropriate to a gymnasium. It looked like a letter "A" , a large hump covered in tanned pig skin.

"No idea"

"Its a whipping block Mr Trott. Peebles school gave it to me as a parting gift. I'm going to have it installed in the school hall."

He laughed again 

"And you think these young lads are going to be frightened of it?"

It was Clariss' turn to smile and there was something in her look that puzzled him 

"I'll tell you what Mr Trott. How would it be if you took your son's punishment? You take half a dozen from me over my block and I'll reinstate Lee with immediate effect" 

She looked at Mrs Cole who raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You have to be joking."

"I'm deadly serious and, after all, I'm a mere female .."

"It's fucking perverted!"

"It's your choice"

He looked at the two women and with a sense of fatalism he realised he had no choice. If Lee was left at home alone for a month the house would be wrecked. It would be all the excuse his friends needed to bunk off school themselves.

"Okay I'll play your stupid game but Lee comes back to school in the morning."

"Agreed. Now if you would like to position yourself ..."

"Over that thing?"

"Of course “over that thing” . You'll take it just like the boys."

With a sneer he crossed to the hummock and, with an effort, mounted it. With his shoulders beneath the level of his buttocks he felt an uncomfortable rush of blood to his head. Clariss rose from her chair and came towards him. She knelt by his side and he felt the start of an erection as more of her stunning legs were revealed and he was exposed to her tantalizingly musky perfume. His arms rested naturally on two legs at the front of the device from which two leather straps hung. She took each strap slowly in turn and buckled them tightly around his wrists.

"Is this necessary?"

"We don't want you falling off and claiming for a broken limb do we?"

She fastened more straps around his calves and another across the small of his back he then jerked as he felt her hands at his belt buckle 

"Hey! Whats going on!"

"Sorry. Did I forget to mention? The boys have to take it on the bare skin. Mrs Cole could you give me a hand here?"

Mrs Cole gave a mocking smile as she came and helped drag his trousers down.

"Ouch! Watch it!"

They made no allowance for his erection as they wrenched the material down below his knees and his manhood finished up painfully flat against the hummock pointing towards his toes. They could not miss it but neither woman said a word. Clariss fastened yet more straps around his bare thighs and his freedom of movement was nearly totally diminished. He heard her moving around, her stiletto heels, clacking on the parquet floor, but he could not see what was going on. Finally she appeared in front of him holding a collection of canes and what appeared to be a dogs toy bone made of heavy rubber. 

"Would you like something to bite on?"

"Don't be stupid. Just get it over with"

"Are you sure? You see, if you scream, I'll start all over again."

"Do you get your kicks out of this? I agreed to take six and I won't be screaming"

"We'll see. If you do feel the need to scream please feel free. The school is empty except for we three" Clariss removed her jacket and he could see the outline of her nipples as they stood out through the material of her bra and her satin blouse. The bitch was getting off on this!

She moved out of sight and then started speaking to Mrs Cole.

"We'll start with this one. It's a Babcock. Its quite thick and if applied properly raises a very nice weal."

He flinched as he she whooped it experimentally through the air. 

"Once the weals are raised we can use the Harrow. You can see its a lot thinner but it will cut right into the ridges. I hope you're not squeamish about the sight of blood."

Mrs Cole spoke for the first time since he had entered the room.

"No, not at all. After all I am a nurse. Spare the rod and spoil the child."

"Will you cut the bullshit and make a start."

"Tut Tut. Patience is a virtue"

Her footsteps could no longer be heard and he knew she was standing poised but still she kept him waiting. Finally he heard it. 

Whooop! Thwaaaackk!

His eyes opened wide and for a split second there was silence until suddenly his breath exploded from his lungs so quickly that his vocal chords could not react. His silent scream marked the most excrutiating pain he had ever felt. As a builder he was forever banging, knocking and burning himself but nothing could prepare him for this. He suddenly knew he had made the wrong decision 

"Stop this now! I'm not going through with it!"

Clariss' smiling face filled his field of view 

"It's no longer your decision to make"

"Let me up from here! Lee stays home."

"Mrs Cole? It's up to you."

Mrs Cole knelt so that her face was side by side with Clariss' 

"He made his cross. Now he's got to bear it. Please continue Miss Hardarce."

"You bitches!"

There was an awful silence as they moved away and he gritted his teeth. The first one had caught him by surprise but he would be ready this time. After what seemed an interminable wait he heard the dread noise again.

Whooop! Thwaaackk!

The first had been bad enough but this was worse. Directly under the first stroke it reignited the initial pain and added to it. 

"MMMMMmmmmmm!"

Not quite a scream but tears started to his eyes.

The third stroke followed quickly and this time he could not contain the expletive.

"SSSSHHHHiiiittt!!"

He was almost weeping as he spoke, addressing himself to Mrs Cole.

"Look I'm sorry for what Lee did. But this is inhumane. Would you subject your husband to this?"

"My husband walked out and left me when my son was three weeks old. I'd give anything in the world to have him where you are now. In my book all men are shits and I think that Miss Hardacre may be really on to something here."

He had played his last card. His only hope now was the remaining strokes would be layed on with the thinner cane that she had spoken of. 

"We'll need to give it a minute or two before the weals become really tender. Can I offer you a sherry?"

"I'd like that."

He couldn't believe it. They were going to stretch it out even further. As the two women sipped their drinks he felt the skin on his buttocks tighten and the growing pain ratcheting upwards notch by notch. It was as though someone was holding a hot iron inches from his skin. In the event it was more than ten minutes before they turned their attention to him again. He felt delicate fingers trailing over his tortured skin and then Clariss' voice.

"They are up a good eighth of an inch, just perfect for our purposes."

He heard the cane swished through the air. The note was higher this time, less solid sounding, but somehow all the more menacing for it. He braced himself, just three to go, he could take it. Then it came, out of nowhere.

Thwaccckkk!

She left it pressed against his skin and, for a second, there was no sensation but when she lifted it away his blood rushed to fill the void from which it had been so rudely expelled. The pain centred on the stripe she had inflicted on him but this time it seemed to trigger every nerve in his body. The next stroke caught him whilst his body was still in an agonized rictus. He desperately needed to scream but his whole body was paralyzed by pain. His muscles refused to relax and as he awaited the final stroke cramps added to his anguish. She made him wait and wait. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and his shirt was plastered to his body, and then finally it came. This time it was lower, across the back of his left thigh, but the tip sought out his now flaccid penis with a wicked flick.

"ARRRRGGGGHhhh!" 

"Do you think that constitutes a scream Mrs Cole?"

"That was most definitely a scream."

"Well in that case we'll just have to start all over again"

"NNNoooooo! No more! ..." 

His breathing was laboured and he groaned with every breath. Clariss turned to Mrs Cole.

"It would appear that he is going to be tiresome. It will probably be for the best if we gag him before the next stage."

"Gag him?"

"Yes. Nothing elaborate. I was thinking, if you don't think me presumptuous, that I might use your underwear."

Karen Cole felt two things at once. On the one hand complete shock but on the other an excitement that sent her heart racing. The only problem was that her panties were completely sodden. She would never have admitted it, perhaps not even to herself, but watching Clariss Hardacre at work had given her the greatest sexual charge she had felt in years. She looked Clariss in the eye and in that moment she realised, with total certainty, that Clariss had known this all along, that Clariss had made the request in the knowledge that her panties would be soiled, that Clariss would be disappointed were if it any other way. Keeping her eyes on her mentor she reached under her skirt and shimmied her panties down her long legs and stepped out of them. 

"And if you wouldn't mind ..." 

Clariss pointed at Karen’s legs. Karen understood immediately and removed her self supporting stockings and then picked up her panties.

"What do I do now?"

"Pinch his nose and wait until he opens his mouth"

With great distaste Karen did as she was told.

"He's got his teeth gritted."

"That’s no problem. I'll use the cane. If he doesn't co-operate within ten seconds I'll flay his balls"

"Please ... Stop... You can't..!"

Clariss gave his balls a playful tap

"Okay .. Okay.."

His mouth opened and Karen pushed her bunched up panties inside. Seconds later they were bound in place with her navy blue stocking. Clariss handed her the cane.

"Perhaps you would like a go?"

His eyes widened and his head shook in his effort to be spared this new indignity. 

Karen took the cane uncertainly and raised it slowly into the air.

Thwaaackk! 

Her stroke lacked the finesse of Clariss’ but she made up for it with sheer brute strength. Thwaaacckk!

The second stroke had him screaming into the makeshift gag and Karen could not believe the thrill it gave her. She struck again and again, grunting with the effort.

Thwaacccckk! Thwaaccckk! Thwaaccckk! Thwaacckk!

When she had finished his buttocks were spotted with red and he was crying openly. 

"I can't believe I enjoyed that so much"

Clariss took her hand.

"If you like I'll introduce you to some friends of mine. There is so much more to enjoy"

"I'm just a little disappointed that I can't use the cane as well as you do"

Clariss laughed.

"It will come to you. As a rule I can generally do much better than this. Its just that clothes can be such an encumbrance."

"Would you ... would you show me?"

"He's had his twelve ..."

"But you did say if he screamed it meant starting all over again."

"Yes I did didn't I."

Karen turned and, taking his balls in her hand, she squeezed as hard as she could. He held out for two or three seconds with his eyes tightly closed but then.

"NNNNaaaahhHHHHHH!!"

She let go and held out the cane to Clariss. Clariss slowly undid her blouse, dropped her shoulders and lett it fall to the floor. She used a hand to raise her hair from her neck and half turned her back to Karen.

"Would you ...?"

Karen reached forward and unfastened Clariss' bra and it too fell to the floor. As Clariss turned to face her Karen could not help herself.

"They're beautiful.."

Clariss smiled.

"Thank you"

Her breasts were full and heavy but there was no hint of sag. The excited nipples jutted proudly upwards and called to the hand. She took the cane and carefully adjusted her stance. When the cane came down Karen thought that it would cut the man in two. Her eyes were torn between the sway of Clariss' breasts and his agonized jolt. Clariss looked as though she was in a trance as she raised the cane and struck again.

"Thhwaaccckkk" 

The mixture of sounds was of itself intoxicating. Clariss' muted grunt juxtaposed by the crisp sound of the cane and the muted agonized screams of her victim. The cane fell again but this time he could not respond. His body surrendered to unconsciousness.

"Will you let him go now?"

"He has to take the final three. He has to know there is no mercy."

"And would you give him more?"

"Under certain circumstances ..."

"If he had another erection for example."

"You catch on quickly..."

After ten minutes he returned slowly to consciousness. His whole body was crying out in pain and his eyes found it hard to focus. His brain fought to remember where he was and what had happened. Slowly, it began to come back to him and it was with dawning horror that he realized that he was still fastened securely to the evil whipping block. He raised his head and then had to shake it to clear the image, but still the scene seemed unreal. Seated in a chair not ten feet in front of him sat Clariss Hardacre her hands cupping and fondling the most spectacular pair of breasts he had ever seen in his life and there, kneeling between her legs, was a second heavenly body and he watched as the head of thick red hair bobbed back and forth as Karen applied her tongue and brought moans of delight from the headmistress from hell. He tried to close his mind to it but it was not possible, and, to his astonishment, despite all that had gone before, he felt his prick begin to harden ....



Headmistress Oatlash



Being that it was the last class of the day, and Poetry at that, it was a given that the young gentlemen of the Oatlash Academy would be a bit unruly. Therefore, Headmistress Natasha Oatlash thought it best to teach the class herself. After all, many of her teachers were little older than the 18 year-old boys they taught. Though she felt quite youthful herself, due to her strict regimen, Natasha was indeed twice the age of her charges. This did not stop the boys in her class from noticing her in a way most unsuitable to the student/teacher relationship. She dressed so as to provide no distraction to the hormonal young men, but her crisp blouse could not hide the soft contours of her breasts and her tweed skirt failed to disguise the womanly swell of her magnificent ass. 

She noticed that not a few of the boys were watching it, rather than the lesson she was inscribing on the blackboard. She could see them quite clearly in the reflective surface of the metal orb that stood atop the flag pole in the corner. She smiled inwardly at the thought that in twenty years of teaching, not a single lad had discovered her trick. They all supposed she had eyes in the back of her head. But this afternoon, as she parsed a sentence of Shakespeare's on the board, she saw young Mister Greystoke passing a note across the aisle. She slammed the chalk into the tray and whirled around. 

"Mister Greystoke! Come forward this instant." 

He looked startled, then resigned, and made his way to the front of the class. As he walked up the aisle, Natasha could not help but admire his tall, lean form. As he neared, she noticed for the first time how blue his eyes were, and the light of wit behind them. But no matter. This was her class and discipline must be maintained. 

"Well, Mister Greystoke. I see you have written something for us. Please. Share it with the rest of the class." 

He looked trapped. He hung his head and said, in a voice too soft for the class to hear, "I don't think that's a good idea." 

"You will speak up, Mister Greystoke, and address me properly." 

He cleared his throat and said, "I don't think that is a good idea, Miss Oatlash." 

"Nonsense. You brought your writing to the class. You will read it to the class. Now." 

There was no mistaking her tone. He unfolded the note and stood facing the students. He gave her a last look. There was something in his eyes that told her to stop him, that it was indeed a bad idea, but the slight smirk at the corner of his mouth made her determined to continue his humiliation. 

He straightened his broad shoulders and read; 

"There once was a poetry teacher, 

who was quite the young, fetching creature, 

the boys in her class, 

argued whether her ass, 

or her tits were the teacher's best feature." 

There was a rush of air as thirty boys gasped as one, then the room exploded in laughter. Natasha felt her cheeks catch fire. Greystoke shrugged his shoulders as if to say I told you so. After a moment, Natasha gathered her wits. 

"There will be silence in this room!" 

And there was. Not a boy made a peep. They sat, waiting for her to strike Greystoke dead. Instead, she sat down behind her desk. 

"Very good, Mister Greystoke. Take your seat. When the class is dismissed, you will remain ." 

"Yes, Headmistress." 

She spent the rest of the period lecturing the class on the difference between poetry and doggerel. The session seemed to drag on, but eventually the bell rang. The boys could not flee the room quickly enough. When all were gone save Greystoke, Natasha rose and walked to the door, locking them in. She then sat back in her chair and ordered him forward. He stood in front of her desk, towering above her. 

"Mister Greystoke, that was a gross violation of my person. Such a violation requires more than the usual written penance. Corporal punishment is called for. Do you agree?" 

"Yes, Miss Oatlash." 

"Yes, indeed." She took from her drawer a thick, wooden ruler. She stood and strode around the desk until she was directly behind him. She stood up on tip- toe, her breasts brushing his back, and spoke into his ear. 

"Drop your trousers and bend over the desk." 

"I don't think that's a good idea." 

"I am not in the habit of having my orders questioned, and certainly not twice in the same day. Pray tell me; why is it a bad idea?" 

"Because I'm not wearing underwear." 

She was taken aback, and more than a little shocked to feel herself grow warm between her legs. She stammered out, "Never... nevertheless. Drop your trousers and bend over my desk this instant." 

He did as he was ordered. He undid his thick belt and his heavy pants fell to the floor. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desktop. Natasha lifted the tail of his shirt over his back. She had to pause a moment to take in the sight of his taut, round buttocks, so white compared to his tanned face. She took a step back and raised the ruler. There was the slightest hesitation, then the ruler fell with a resounding thwack against his naked skin. A stripe of red began to glow across his cheek. But he made no sound. Again the ruler fell. Again the room echoed with the crack of wood on skin. Again he made no sound. Again. Again. Again. Still he was silent, save that his breathing grew deeper. Again. Again. Again. She began to perspire. She could feel the tickle of sweat in her unshaved armpits. Again. Again. Again. 

Her breath was now coming hot and hard. The moisture she felt between her legs was not perspiration. She was shocked to discover that she was becoming aroused. She felt anger at herself for this loss of control, anger at young Greystoke for his obstinate silence. Again. Again. Again. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. 

At last she had enough. Her breasts were heaving. Her panties were soaked. Greystoke's ass glowed red as fire. But still he made not a sound. She straightened her clothes and stepped back. 

"There. That will do. I am sure you will no longer be tempted to write such things about my body, will you Mister Greystoke?" 

"No", he replied, never rising from the desktop. It was more than she could bear. She nearly screamed. 

"You will face me when you speak to me and you will address me properly!" 

"I don't think that is a good idea." 

"Face me when you speak to me, you little mutt!!!" 

He rose and turned to her. His shirttail dropped to cover his lap but was stopped by his erect member. It jutted proudly before him; long, thick and so, so hard. The head of it fairly glowed purple. His eyes burned with passion and he stared at her with undisguised lust. His broad chest rose and fell and he sucked in air through his mouth. 

"As... you... wish..., Headmistress." 

She lost all the control she had so carefully maintained over her years of teaching young, athletic boys. She dropped to her knees like a wanton and swallowed his hard shaft. She clutched his burning ass like a life-preserver in the middle of the ocean. She sucked his cock with a fury, her spit drenching it and running down her chin. She attacked it with an almost religious fervor, taking it deep into her mouth until it prodded the back of her throat. In and out, she sucked him like whore in a back alley. He thrust against her, and her nose buried itself in the red curls on his belly. She cupped his huge balls in her small hand. She rocked back and forth, her engorged clit squeezed between her thighs. Each sway of her body sent a shudder of carnal pleasure through her. She licked and sucked and kissed that proud cock until the poor boy shivered with anticipation. Just as a powerful climax shook her, she took him all the way into her wet mouth and he flooded her with hot cum. Jet after jet of it splashed her throat. She gulped as much as she could, but still it ran over her lips and down her chin to splash on her crisp, white blouse. 

She collapsed at his feet in a swoon. He fell back against the desk, but only for a second. When his tender ass touched the wood he bolted upright and stood, swaying slightly from the dizzy aftereffects of his powerful orgasm. Natasha lay at his feet, one arm wrapped like a vine around his muscled leg. She might have fallen asleep, but a drop of cum from his slowly withering cock fell to splash on her cheek. It brought her to her senses. 

She stood, straightened her clothes and lay the ruler on the desk. Greystoke dressed himself and stood looking into her flushed face. She walked back behind her desk. 

"Very good, Mister Greystoke. I hope you have learned a valuable lesson here today." 

"Yes, Headmistress." 

"Very good indeed. You may go." 

He turned and walked gingerly to the door. When he stopped to unlock it, she jumped up and intercepted him. She reached up and grabbed his tie, close to his throat. She pulled his face down to hers. They were nose to nose. 

"One more thing, you little mutt.. In the future, should you feel compelled to write another poem about my anatomy, make it a good one. I despise limericks." 

She kissed the tip of his nose, gave his balls a soft squeeze, and pushed him out the door. She certainly hoped he would not be so foolish as to tell anyone about his chastisement. The punishment for that would be severe indeed.



Headmistress Roberts



This story is set in Ed Miller's "Miss Sheila DeVille's School for Wayward Boys" universe, which was further expanded upon by Lurker B. in his own "Miss Deville's Academy: Lucas's Story." I thoroughly enjoyed both stories and decided to offer my own interpretation. As always, here is Ed Miller's original disclaimer.

*

This is a story involving explicitly described sex. If you think you might be offended by it, or you aren't allowed by the laws of the place in which you live to read such a story, don't. If you read past this warning, any offense you take or laws you break are your problem. I've warned you.

Permission is hereby given to archive this story anywhere on the Internet, so long as the author is credited, it is reproduced in its entirety (including this disclaimer!) and no fee is charged to access it.

*****

Miss Deville's School - Headmistress Roberts

Chapter 1

Of course, by the time the final bell rang she was as relieved as herstudents to start the weekend.

As the bell's remnants echoed through the halls, Headmistress Roberts gave a long final yawn at her desk and checked her watch. 3:00 p.m. on the dot. She smiled to herself. She loves when her school is run efficiently.

Standing up and buttoning her jacket, she looked around her office and took inventory of what final work there was to be done before she could return home after her long day. The meeting with the Pep squad? Finished. The budget proposal meeting with all the department heads? Pushed until Monday. Interview for the school paper? Finished (luckily for Miss Roberts, who otherwise might have had to come in to do the interview Sunday morning.)

Perfect, she assured herself, that will give me more time with Scott.

The reminder brought a smirk to her face. Scott had been showing much promise as of late. Their one-on-one 'mentoring' sessions had been getting progressively more... successful, and the Headmistress had been very pleased with his recent performance. While momentarily lost in her thoughts, Miss Roberts' hand slowly began to creep off of her desk, eventually finding it's way into her lap hidden below the mighty, finished oak and slowly began caressing that which it had found.

The sound of doors swinging open and her students filing into the hallways to begin their weekends jogged Mistress Roberts out of her daze, returning her thoughts to the task at hand. She plopped her briefcase on her desk and opened it while continuing her mental checklist. Mail? Already retrieved, read and properly dealt with. Staff checks? Issued presumably, although to be sure, best confirm with Hilda. Perfect.

"Then that leaves only..."

Her eyes hone onto the one last item of business for the week, a sealed white envelope sitting atop her desk papers bearing nothing more than the name of it's intended recipient, "Coach Camella." Putting the letter aside Headmistress Roberts proceeded to quickly file all other loose documents away into her briefcase, taking care not to misfile a single paper. The bun on the back of her head bobbed and swung as she finished clearing her desk. Grabbing her briefcase and smoothing her skirt, she stood up and walked around her desk, dragging her finger along the edge of the paddle proudly displayed on her desk's edge, smooth and thick in all it's glory. Pocketing the letter, she opened the door and looked back upon her office for a final survey, and with a sigh of satisfaction flipped the light off and shut the door.

Pulling the key from her locked door and turning around, she discovered a student, waiting in her leather waiting chair, head down in shame. Her secretary began to explain.

"It's Timmy again," began Hilda. "He began acting up during last period and just arrived here moments ago."

Timmy briefly looked up and caught The Headmistress' eye, which at the time was looking down at him with a combination of disappointment and authority. His gaze quickly returned to the floor. Miss Roberts checked her watch impatiently and sternly replied.

"I haven't the time for this. Tell Timothy here that it is his lucky day, that he is free to go enjoy his weekend."

Sporting an immediate smile Timmy jumped up, pleasantly surprised by his good fortune. He turned to leave but was grabbed by the arm and spun back around by his dominant Headmistress,

"HOWEVER, don't think for a second that you are off the hook. I expect to see you first thing Monday morning in my office for a meeting. Is that clear?"

"Ye...yes Ma'am." A frightened Timmy stuttered. After a few seconds frozen terror, Miss Roberts excused him and he scuttled off in a hurry, already dreading his upcoming "meeting."

After the door closed behind him, the two women looked at each other and after a pregnant silence burst into laughter. Their monstrous melons shook mightily as they laughed up a storm, prompting a few passing students to stop and ogle them through the office door's window, amazed at the voluptuousness that can be possessed by only two women. Sending a glance their way, the boys scattered, trying casually not to meet the eye of their Headmistress.

"They never learn do they?" Hilda choked out, as their laughter finally succeeded.

Miss Roberts shook her head in amusement. "Of course if they could learn on their own, we would all be out of jobs, wouldn't we?"

Hilda giggled as Miss Roberts placed the letter on Hilda's desk. "Did the employee checks go out on time?"

"Of course Ma'am."

"Just what I like to hear. Now please make sure this letter gets to The Coach will you Hilda? Before she leaves for the day to be safe."

Hilda picked up the letter and looked it over.

"Of course. I will deliver it to her immediately."

Miss Roberts flashed Hilda a goodbye smile and began to walk towards the door, waving over her shoulder without turning her head.

"Have a splendid weekend Hilda."

"I know you will Ma'am."

Miss Roberts stopped with her hand on the door and turned. The light shone off her midnight black, pulled back hair, highlighting her aura of dominance. Her plump deep red lips parted into a smile.

"So you've heard, have you?"

Hilda smirked slyly back.

"The professors have been talking, things get around. All I have to say is congratulations. He seems like a good fit."

Miss Roberts returned her friend's smirk.

"Let's hope so."

Chapter 2

Miss Roberts enjoyed taking the scenic route back to her mansion on the edge of campus. It took her through the center green, where students studied under the sun and basked next to the fountain. It took her past the fields, where the football and baseball players began to warm up for practice, stretching their muscles and doing exercises in the heat, MDA displayed across their uniforms. Her ample breasts pressed against her business jacket and her glamorous features distracted most of the boys she passed, and she was content knowing that as she passed the boys their stares moved south onto her toned, muscular ass. The trees, the fresh air, the sun. The smell of fresh cut grass. They gave her a moment to observe and reflect.

Miss Roberts was pleased that she could provide such excellence to boys who otherwise would have ended up in jail...or worse. Seeing the bustling campus life brought joy to her eyes and reminded her how far these boys had come and why she loved her high-demand, difficult job. It also reminded her of how she has been able to accomplish so much and build such a supportive community of young men. It reminded her that everything she has (and has built) is a direct result of her fierce attitude.

She had always been a woman of accomplishment. Straight A's throughout elementary, middle, and high school, not to mention her swimming championships. After finally graduating from an Ivy League college Suma Cum laude, (and subsequently being inundated with lucrative job offers) she received a letter, telling how her accomplishments had caught the attention of the soon to retire Headmistress of a school called 'Miss DeVille's Academy for Wayward Boys' who wanted to meet with her. Needless to say, Andrea Roberts was thrilled. Finally, a job that gave back to the community. A job where she could do some real good, and would be given the tools to be a great leader.

While her maternal side relished the opportunity to give troubled boys a new chance at life, her dominant side also relished the respect. And the power. She had always felt that due to her ultra-feminine looks, her assertive attitude came across as 'bitchy' in many circles, while her intelligence came across as being a 'know-it-all.' She never saw men face such troubles. But finally she found a job where those qualities aren't only useful, but necessary to be successful.

Her biggest moment of pride came on the retirement day of the previous Headmistress, when she was ceremoniously handed down the paddle that now sits displayed on the front of her desk. This was accompanied by a banquet in her honor and a one-on-one meeting in the office of the (exiting) Headmistress, who gave a final rundown of the job. It was a very distinct memory.

Chapter 3

"The job is hard, the job can be downright frustrating at times," the Headmistress Sonja Dawson began, her silver hair and dignified wrinkles demonstrating she has the wisdom and experience to back up her words. "But you will have the tools you need to be great."

Mistress Dawson reached in the lower drawer of her desk and began fishing around. A young Andrea Roberts waited patiently in the chair across the desk, with a burning wondering of what she is in for.

"As has already been demonstrated for you, the paddle is for disciplinary action." With eyes that never faltered from Miss Roberts' own, Miss Dawson put an unseen object in her lap. "And as you know, it is the major factor for MDA's unrivaled success."

The woman paused, gauging Miss Roberts' reaction. She continued.

"However, there are special cases that require special attention. Which is why you will need this." With that, Miss Dawson dropped a foot-long strap-on dildo loudly onto the oak desk. Miss Roberts looked puzzled.

"Ma'am, I don't understand..." began Miss Roberts.

"Nothing to understand, my girl." Interrupted the Headmistress. "Simply put it on."

Hesitantly, Miss Roberts reached out and grasped the monster. It wobbled as she examined it's smooth perfection. It was the most life-like dildo she had ever seen, thick as a summer sausage with a mushroom tip head that demanded respect. It had no scrotum, but still managed to emit an aura of power and dominance. It seemingly glowed in her hand, though she felt sure that it was just the lighting of the office. Miss Roberts stood up and pushed her chair back, creating room for her to strip. She reached behind her back and unzipped her black formal dress, letting her pristine boobs push the dress off of her, and watching it fall to the floor. Her matching bra and panties were white lace, which showed off her soft, feminine curves and her powerful hips with stunning results. She hooked her thumbs inside her panties cautiously and gave a look at Mistress Dawson, asking for confirmation. The Mistress Dawson nodded and Miss Roberts continued, letting her panties fall to the floor.

Her pussy was completely hairless. It glistened under the lights of the office, with her cute clit just barely poking out from beneath it's hood and her lips at full display. Even the Headmistress, with all her years of experience, was stunned by the sight of the naked angel in her office. Very warily, Miss Roberts proceeded place the strap-on on the floor and step between the leg harnesses. Pulling it up to her groin, she bucked everything in place and waited. And nothing happened. At first.

Suddenly the leather buckles which previously dug uncomfortably into her legs and ass became completely painless, which was followed by an intense warm sensation coming from her pelvis. Miss Roberts watched in awe as the straps melted into her skin, melting and melding until all trace of them was gone. The dildo remained, now being held up with no device or harness. The base of the monster schlong slowly attached itself to her pelvis, morphing the surrounding skin into a bubbling, putty-like substance. The bubbling continued as Miss Roberts felt her internal reproductive organs being changed and rearranged. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She felt her two ovaries slide down the inside her of body, sliding until they pushed their way out the base of her pelvis, stretching the skin as they continued to fall, until they formed a perfect, juicy scrotum. As the bubbling subsided and the transformation came to completion, Miss Roberts continued to stare downwards, eyes locked onto her lower parts.

The cock was now part of her, and she was now hung like a horse. She turned and look at herself in the office mirror, marveling at how her new hairless meat pole hung down to her mid-thigh. She grabbed her cock by the base. Completely real; organic. Her balls were no joke either, each bigger than a golf ball, and swaying, hanging like a pair of juicy apples.

She turned to Miss Dawson, mouth still open in shock.

"This is your tool. This will make you the undisputed Alpha at this academy. Combined with your intellect and unending determination, a cock as dominant and potent as yours insures that you will be a great and powerful Headmistress."

Miss Roberts tried to speak, but couldn't. A mix of gratitude and astonishment bubbled up from her stomach left her speechless. The Headmistress recognized this and gave her a piece of advice she surely needed.

"Sit here, in the Headmistress' chair."

Miss Dawson gracefully got up, her flowing, silver dress creating waves as she moved. She floated around the desk and moved over to the door, retrieving her long raincoat off the coat rack and donning it. Miss Roberts meanwhile walked around the desk and eased into the large leather chair. Suddenly a wave of satisfaction came over her and it all felt right. She was now the Headmistress. She gazed down at her erect cock, standing at full mast with her testicles resting on the leather, and reveled in her newfound sense of authority. The ex-Headmistress smiled and began to silently exit, leaving the Mistress Roberts to her responsibilities. Just before she took her final step out of the office she paused and turned to her successor for a final thought.

"If you're lucky, during your time here you'll find an assistant in one of your students. Someone who will be loyal and willing, and will be a great servant and mentee. Under the school law, the Headmistress may find one student to become what is known here as her "Wife," but let it be known, most Headmistresses never find anyone worthy of the position. My final advice to you is this...if you ever have the opportunity to take on a wife during your time here, do it. The advantages of having one are many and the opportunity of finding a worthy wife is hard to come by."

Sonja Dawson stepped out and closed the door of her office for the last time, leaving Headmistress Roberts to ponder the advice she had just been given.

Chapter 4

Headmistress Roberts opened the door to her mansion (paid for by the academy of course) and entered. The entrance room was massive, with two extravagant staircases along each side of the circular walls which wound up to a loft leading to the rest of the second floor. The entire gound floor was white and black marble, sporting intricate designs that wove across the house. The high ceiling and chandelier gave the room the feel of an old ballroom from the 1940's. Golden railing adorned the steps all the way down, and vases with flowers freshly picked peppered the place and gave it a heavenly smell. The giant glass windows surrounding the huge wooden double-doors were amazing and intricate, creating colorful spirals of light on the wall when the sun shone through the glass.

Mistress Roberts had only just closed the front door, set down her briefcase and removed her business heels when she heard the distinct clack-clacking of high heels as they made their way from a satellite part of the house, down a corridor to the front room. She knew it was Scott.

From out of the hallway the 2nd floor loft came a girl of awe inspiring fertile and feminine proportions. She was short, about 5'2" and very curvy. Today (per Mistress Roberts' instructions) she was adorned in a French maid's outfit, complete with low cut dress and a skirt that could hardly be qualified as such. Her round, soft, feminine face was stunning, with a delicate nose, pouty red lips and light blue eyes that emanated innocence. Long blonde hair fell down in golden locks onto her shoulders, giving her a coy look. Her slender, porcelain neck gave way to her exquisitely huge chest which surpassed Mistress Roberts' own G- cup melons to fill even a J-cup bra to bursting. Her impeccable gazongas were practically popping out of the top of her outfit, yet her most revered blessing was her ass. She had a slim waist attached to hips that could stop traffic. Her round, firm buttocks look straight from of a music video and jiggled whenever she took a step. Her epic donk was currently hanging out from her skirt, only concealed by a pair of small, frilly white panties running up her crack, hardly containing her double- scoop ass. She clacked as fast as she could over to her husband, placing her feather duster on a table as she passed by.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Roberts." Cooed Scott as he gave a polite curtsy.

Mistress Roberts smirked. She had trained him well. When he was first sent to her office, she thought him for a troublemaker. He was stubborn, unwilling to listen, and very sharp-tongued. But he always aced his tests, whether he studied or not. He was clearly a very bright boy. But bright boys are a dime in a dozen, while wives are not. After spending some time with him talking in her office she realized his potential. Though there was one test he still had to pass. When their conversation concluded, Mistress Roberts commanded him to strip and bend over her desk. Grabbing her 'special paddle' from its display, she gave him a firm slap across his cute teenage buns.

He immediately transformed into the most beautiful girl Mistress Roberts had ever seen. Although he was a full 18 years old, he had the appearance of a wide-eyed innocent 16 year-old. Mistress Roberts was stunned. She had never seen such beauty and hopeful innocence before. She eventually sent him back to class without further punishment, sending a memo to all teachers that no boy was to touch Scott in any way. Word quickly got around school that he was now the Headmistress' property, and that no boy should as much as look down his dress.

Before long Scott was ordered to the Headmistress' office every morning for one-on-one tutoring. Every day he was bent over by Mistress and transformed into a fertile young thing. He was subsequently paddled so frequently that his body permanently adopted his new female form, as well as a naturally submissive mindset. The two quickly grew a bond and after a few weeks, Mistress used the School Constitution's 'Wife Clause' to choose Scott as her wife. He was moved out of the dorms and into the Headmistress' Mansion permanently, where he was to take classes separate from the rest of the student body. Classes on cooking, beauty and exercise (as any other subjects she wished him to learn) would keep him busy and sexy for his husband.

"Good afternoon baby," smiled Mistress Roberts, as she put an arm around Scott's delicate waist, dipped him back and kissed him. His lips tasted of the cherry lip gloss she instructed him to wear. Good boy.

She put him on his feet and he blushed and giggled. Without a word he helped Mistress remove her coat, and put all of his husband's things away (shoes, coat and briefcase.) Minutes later his husband was sitting in a comfortable recliner in front a large fireplace sipping a rum and Coke Scott prepared for her and giving Scott a rundown of her day while he gave her an expert foot massage.




Headmistress Roberts



"So how was your first day here sweetie?" asked Mistress Roberts, sipping her drink and enjoying her footrub.

"Great! First I learned how to apply facial makeup..."

"I can see that," interjected Mistress, commenting on his well-shadowed eyes and glowing cheeks.

"Thank you Mistress," blushed Scott. "I was shown how to clean and how to cook a few meals! Wanna see? I have some in the kitchen," he eagerly inquired.

Mistress Roberts thought for a moment. Then her lips curled and her eyes narrowed.

"No not right now Scott. Right now I want you to get your cute little ass in the shower upstairs in the master bathroom. I then want you to strip naked, start the shower and wait for me in there. I'll be up in a moment." Scott remained motionless.

"Yes Ma'am." Scott finally replied, struggling to find balance under the weight of his enormous breasts as he arose.

Mistress Roberts watched him stand and make his way upstairs, concentrating on his bubble butt as he strutted his way across the room. It was just too damn sexy.

"Wait," Mistress Roberts called out, stopping Scott in his tracks. She walked over and stood in frot of him, dwarfing him by at least a foot, and proceeded to shove her tongue down his throat. He responded by closing his eyes, letting her explore his mouth to her pleasure while both of her hands made their way onto his magnificent buns and began to massage and grope them. Mistress Roberts had never felt or seen an ass like his. And now it was all hers.

Their lips separated, a thin line of drool connecting their mouths. Mistress held Scott by the shoulders and stared down into his wide innocent light-blue eyes and flawless face. This was going to be fun, she thought. With a nod in the right direction she sent him on his way. As he turned and began to exit Mistress Roberts slapped his ass and walked back towards her comfy chair to fondle the tent in her skirt and finish her drink.

Chapter 5

Scott washed himself off in the shower, cautiously waiting for his husband to join him. His body was completely hairless save for his eyebrows, eyelashes and scalp. His smooth pussy was engorged and seemed to be always ready for penetration. Per his husbands instructions he folded his maid clothes and put them neatly on the bathroom shelf before entering the very substantial shower. It was most definitely the biggest shower he had ever seen, short of the shower rooms at juvie of course, but those were a series of showers. The room had already become very steamy and he began to soap up his entire voluptuous body, starting with his jugs. His blonde hair now fell ragged, heavy with water in front of his face. He moved the hair from his eyes and continued to soap up his body, although his mind was elsewhere. He was deep in thought, feeling unsure of his own sexuality due to his current predicament. Does this make me gay? He pondered. I mean, is it gay to be submissive? Even in a woman's body? Does that make me a lesbian? It is okay that every time Mistress grabs my ass my pussy gets just a little wetter? Why did Mistress make me take those 'special lessons?' The ones where I was taught to...he didn't want to think about it.

He heard the bathroom door open and close, though due to the texture of the glass shower door, he couldn't see his Mistress. Over the rush of the shower he could barely make out the sounds of a skirt zipper unzipping, a bra being thrown to the floor, and a garter belt and undergarments being slid off. Then there was silence. He waited in anticipation, covering his nipples with his forearms and huddling around the shower head.

After a few seconds of silence the shower door slid open. Before Scott stood his husband, fully nude in all her glory. His mouth dropped open as he studied her body.

She had the body of an amazon. She was muscular, toned, tanned and completely hairless below the neck. Her muscular biceps and shoulders gave her a very broad frame, which until now had always been hidden by her business suits. She had a very defined six-pack, accompanied by a very smooth torso and a rock hard ass. Her legs were powerhouses, each the size of a small tree trunk and at least as immovable. Her wondrous breasts almost made Scott jealous. Almost. She was a Goddess.

Then his eyes zeroed in on the elephant in the room. Her anaconda-length dick was fully erect and leaking pre-cum. It stuck out, pointed straight at him like Babe Ruth calling his shot. The massive balls at the base hung well below the shaft, swinging like a pendulum counting the seconds.

His eyes moved up her body to her face, still young and feminine, her black hair now let free to fall down onto her wide shoulders. She wore a huge grin.

"Ready to perform your wifely duties?"

Chapter 6

She took a few steps toward Scott, towering over him like a behemoth, her huge dick bouncing with each step. She looked him up and down, almost drooling over his young, tight body and bubble butt. She had disciplined many students before and seen many naked young girls bodies, but his was the only body that she needed to own for herself, for good. She took another step forward into the stream of water and suddenly her whole body was wet and glistening. He shrunk back, frightened of her monster.

"Don't be afraid honey, it won't bite you know."

She reached out and grabbed his forearm, placing his hard it on her shaft to show him it wasn't dangerous. He stood there for a moment, feeling it's warmth and girth. Cautiously he grabbed it with his other hand.

"Good boy," Mistress Roberts cooed.

He looked up at her in earnest. She could tell he was timid. And she knew why as well.

"Look muffin, I know you are afraid of acting submissively."

His head hung low, admitting this to be true. Mistress put a finger under his chin and raised him until they were looking each other in the eye.

"But I'm here to take care of you, alright? I'm here to help you push your boundaries and teach you to be a well-rounded person. And part of that is understanding life from a different perspective. What do you think?"

He cracked a small smile and looked shyly down.

"Remember that I will always protect and take care of you."

Scott looked up meet his husband's eyes, water and tears falling down his face and smiling with that cute, round soft face of his. Mistress Roberts smiled right back.

"If it makes you feel better, you can call me 'Mommy'," assured Mistress Roberts. "Would that help?"

Scott nodded coyly.

"Now honey, I need to let you know that sometimes during these things Mommy uses words that she doesn't necessarily mean. She uses them because they help her have a better orgasm. Do you understand?"

Scott nodded. Mistress smiled.

"Good. Now show me what you learned today in class."

Scott looked back down at the giant kielbasa he held in his hands. This wasn't the size we practiced on he thought. But he figured he'd give it his best. For his husband, for Mommy.

Scott began working his small hands over the huge member, working his hands the entire length of the shaft. With every second he tugged he became more and more comfortable and relaxed. He tried jacking her off one-handed while fondling her balls with the other. He tried using two hands. He tried robbing her head like polishing a doorknob. He began to cycle through all the tricks he had learned, and whenever he did something that felt good Mistress would pat him on the head and tell him he was a good boy.

After a while Mistress grew tired. She wanted to know how some of his other studies were going.

"Let go." She ordered. His dainty hands dropped to his sides.

"Get on your knees."

He immediately obeyed, almost tipping over due to his ample bosom. He sat down, put his hands in his lap and looked up at his towering Mistress, waiting for further instructions. She cracked a smile looking down at him.

"You sure do look cute down there." Mistress paused for a moment. "Now suck my balls."

Scott looked forward at the set of hanging nads before him. He eagerly grabbed her whole sack with both testicles and shoved them into his mouth, surprising even his husband.

"That's a good little bitch." Mistress thought aloud.

With both massive balls in his mouth Scott looked like a girl at summer camp trying to win a 'Chubby Bunny' contest. His cheeks ballooned out, his mouth completely full as he sucked on his husbands jizz factories. Never for a second did a testicle pop out of his mouth or did his teeth scrape against her sack. He was doing more than being a good wife. He was worshiping her.

Mistress Roberts relaxed and enjoyed the hell out of her free ball washing, but again grew tired. Now was the time for the real test.

"Sit still and open your mouth bitch. And don't break eye contact.."

Scott spit out both balls, amazed at the effect of having such potent equipment in his mouth. He looked up to see Mistress expecting face looking down. He put his hands on the ground, opened his mouth wide and waited.

Grabbing her long shaft with one hand, she guided it into her wife's pretty mouth. She starts feeding inch after inch into his mouth, waiting to hit the bottom of his throat. She was halfway down when she started to become very impressed. There's no way he's gotten that far in his studies already she thought.

Inch 8. Inch 9. Inch 10. Suddenly Mistress' whole cock was down his throat and her balls rested on his chin. A tear or two rolled down his cheek but he didn't break eye contact. This made Mistress very happy.

"That's a good bitch," she complimented, while petting his long hair. "Now what do you say when someone gives you something?"

"Aaan ooooo" Scott managed to say, drooling like mad.

"Do you want your face fucked?" asked Mistress.

"Eeeeess" replied Scott.

"Yes what?" scolded Mistress.

"Esss eeez" managed Scott.

"Yes please what...?" Lead the Mistress. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back removing the cock from his esophagus. She leaned down and brought her face close to his so they were eye-to-eye.

"Please fuck my face Mommy."

She looked straight into his eyes. He was no longer doing this for her pleasure. He was doing it for his own. That all the cue she needed.

With that she stood up straight, grabbed both sides of his head with a vice-like grip and brutally fucked his face with her massive schlong. She was like a gorilla fucking a coconut; her balls slapping against his chin while and he loved every second and inch of it. Saliva freely flowed out of his mouth and rolled off his husband's giant nuts. Her eyes wondered while she dominated her wife's mouth yet every time she gazed down he was still looking straight into her eyes, still obeying his orders. Good boy.

After a few minutes of relentless face fucking Mistress started feel an orgasm begin to brew. She kept her pumping steady and rhythmic, bringing her closer and closer, almost...there...

Suddenly, while deep in her wife's throat, her cock let loose like a fire hose. She grunted a deep grunt and came gushers of spunk, directly filling up her wife's stomach like an empty gas tank. She held her wife's head in an iron grip, her wife still looking up to meet with his husband dead in the eyes. This made the Headmistress cum even harder. With Scotts stomach nearly full, Mistress Roberts pulled out as her cock continued to emit it's masculine essence. She placed her cock's head on her wife's tongue and began to fill his greedy mouth. Spurt after spurt of cum continued, until her cock finished it's final throws and slowly subsided. She slowly removed her cock from his delicate little mouth to reveal a mouth completely full to the brink of semen.

Scott sat there with hands on the ground, mouth open and full of warm, white cream while his husband looked down upon her slut wife.

"And..." Mistress Roberts paused, trying to savor this pretty image as long as possible. "Swallow."

With that Scott took one huge gulp, struggling to swallow every drop of his husband's seed. A small amount of cum dribbled down his lips and hung off of his chin. Mistress Roberts smiled down at him and was very pleased. She leaned over and without effort picked Scott up and set him on his feet.

"Was that good Mommy?" he asked eagerly, cum swinging from his dainty chin.

Mistress Roberts smiled and stroked his hair. "Very good, Mommy is very proud of you sweetie."

Scott smiled. Mistress Roberts turned and slid open the shower door, where she stepped out and began wrapping a towel around her waist, leaving her dripping melons to hang in the open.

"I'm hungry. I'm going to go downstairs have some of the food you cooked, and then I have a surprise for you. So clean yourself up and be downstairs in 10." With that Mistress Roberts strode across the steamy bathroom and opened the door, stepping into the hallway where she gently closed the door behind her.

Chapter 7

Scott walked cautiously down the cascading stairs, his long blonde hair still moist from his shower, wearing the clothes his Husband had left for him on their bed. Scott was adorned in a black lace bra designed to offer up his breasts to his husband like snacks on a tray, paired with matching thong panties that rode up between his cheeks, making Scott blush with every step. The only other garment he wore was a see-through blue kimono, tied in the front, whose patterns outlined vines with small pink flowers, and which barely covered the top of his creamy thighs. His outfit flowed as he descended down the stairs to the kitchen and to his waiting husband. He gave a heavy sigh.

"Why would I do that?" was the thought that wouldn't leave him alone. Not but 5 minutes ago Scott was on his knees, getting mercilessly face fucked by his ox of a husband. His mind kept replaying the smirk Miss Roberts gave him as she dominated his skull, and the unending reservoir of spunk she deposited into him. He could still taste it, reminding him of her potency. He also seemed to be nourished by Miss Roberts' juice, as he no longer felt hungry. But the thing that worried him most was how he seemed to be unable to control himself around his husband. Like Scott's body made decisions for him.

"Okay, first I was dusting in the pantry" Scott began to piece together. "Then I remember hearing the front door close and being drawn towards it." After this, his unwelcome feminine nature welled up inside him and took over. Before long he was letting her grope his ass and letting her turn him into...

"A slut," Scott said aloud, his voice filled with shame. "A filthy whore."

Up until this afternoon, his relationship with Miss Roberts had been all fun and games, just a goofy little fling. Also, the fact that no other students messed with him as long as he was her 'property' certainly didn't hurt. But finally, the seriousness of his situation began to dawn on him. And as he harkened back to those first days in his mind, a tear rolled from his cheek and he fell into a nostalgia for simpler times.

Chapter 8

Sitting across the desk from the Headmistress' empty chair, Scott couldn't help but study the Paddle displayed on the front of her desk. He snuck a look to his left at Miss Payne standing on the wall to his left. She gave him a glare and his eyes moved back to the paddle. Only having heard stories about the Headmistress' thirst for discipline, his mind raced, trying to determine what she might have in store for him.

He had disrupted class. Again. He thought it would be funny to put a small tack on Miss Payne's chair. She spotted it early, not letting a student get the better of her in her own classroom But this time it wasn't just extra homework he needed to worry about. This time his teacher had sent him to the big room, Mistress Roberts' office and walked him down there personally to tell the Headmistress of his exploits. Hearing the door open behind him, a chill ran up his spine and he quickly moved his gaze to the floor. The office door shut and a pair of high heels clicked their way to the other side of the desk. The chair creaked as the Headmistress sat down.

"What seems to be the problem here Miss Payne?"

"Well Miss, Scott here put a tack in my chair, in the hopes I might sit on it."

Scott's eyes moved up to meet his fate. Across the desk was the most authoritarian woman he had ever seen. Her slick black hair was pulled into a bun and her icy stare burned holes in his confidence. She wore a tailored black power suit, which did little to hide her massive biceps and powerful chest. Her hands were clasped together on her desk as she nodded, listening to Miss Payne's complaints about Scott, while continuing her visual evaluation of him.

"...and he seems to have no respect for authority," finished Miss Payne.

Mistress Roberts' raised an eyebrow. "Is that so..."

Scott couldn't tell if her question was rhetorical or not, so he said nothing.

"Thank you Miss Payne, you may return to your students. I can handle this from here." Miss Payne gave Scott a disapproving glance as she turned and exited the Headmistress' office. Miss Roberts let silence hang in the air for a moment or two, letting Scott mentally squirm for a moment before she spoke.

"What's this about Scott?"

Scott remained silent and kept his eyes on the ground. Miss Roberts continued.

"Do you want to succeed at this school?"

Scott looked up to meet her gaze. Her face had softened and appeared to display genuine concern for the boy. Cautiously, he answered.

"I do succeed, check my scores."

"Oh I already have child," she answered. "Some of the best I've seen. Which makes me wonder why such a smart, attractive boy might be so careless in the way he conducts himself socially." Being called attractive by such a powerful figure made Scott both flattered and a little defensive. What kind of place was this? Was it true what he'd heard about the girls at this School? That they were all boys being fucked into obedience by some wayward magic? Scott's breath quickened. Miss Roberts noticed.

"I know what you've heard about our administration here. It's true we do have...methods of getting boys to finally take themselves and this school seriously, but we do it under the principle of growth and success. Think of us as Motherly figures. We may discipline you from time to time, but we do it with love. And we always make sure you're taken care of. Right?" Scott sat silent

"Right?" Miss Robert's repeated, this time with a hint of a threatening tone.

"Yes Ma'am," Scott replied immediately. Miss Roberts smiled.

"That's good. Now I'm sorry about this Scott, but I'm going to have to ask you to strip down." Scotts heart sank. He slowly stood up, trembling with dread. He removed his school crest-embroidered jacket, placing on his chair. He slowly removed his tie and collared shirt, exposing his slim chest and torso and fair skin. Miss Roberts stood and he froze, fliching as her 6'3" frame made her way to his side of the desk, a small smile on her face. Wordlessly, she put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him down and back, forcing him to sit on his shirt and jacket. She bent down and effortlessly peeled off both of his sneakers and socks. He felt like a kid who's Mom was preparing him for a bath. She then reached up to his crotch and unbuttoned his dress pants, sending blood rushing to his penis and making his breath skip a beat. Smiling at his uncomfortability, she proceeded to unzip his fly and pull his pants off in one motion, pulling his boxers off in the process. She whipped them off of his legs and placed them on her desk, before standing up and moving towards her office door to lock it.

"Stand up," she ordered, clicking her door lock. Scott immediately obeyed, keeping his hands at his sides. She turned to face Scott and stepped towards him, reminding him of her size. She began to feel up his puny chest muscles and skinny arms. Her hands left no part of his body alone, rubbing his thighs, his buns, his stomach before reaching down to feel his equipment. She fondled his balls while his dick hardened and began to twitch with stimulation. She grinned.




Headmistress Roberts



"Turn around."

Scott turned and felt hand push his chest down till he was laid across her desk, his hips stuck towards his tormenter. Two strong hands separated his legs till he was sporting a wide stance. An arm reached over his shoulder to grab the paddle off the desk and Scott squeezed his eyes shut to brace himself.

The impact itself was not bad. It stung for a brief moment while Scott stayed motionless. Opening his eyes, Scott stood straight and turned, meeting the face of Mistress Roberts. He was eye level with her womanly knockers, her suit doing their best to contain them. Scott had never felt so intimidated and...owned by another person before.

Suddenly he noticed the changes. The room seemed to be getting bigger while he shrunk in size. He looked down to see his waist shrinking and losing it's tone, becoming flat and smooth. His hips flared out, while his thighs expanded like two balloons. His penis melted into his skin, and reformed into a delicate little pussy. Hair began to grow in front of his eyes, blocking his vision and falling to his shoulders before turning a light blonde hue. His chest became heavy as a pair of tits began to sprout and throw his body off balance. First they grew to the size of two small melons, before gaining the mass of a pair of large hams. He would have fallen on his face had Scott's ass not expanded, gaining enough weight to balance out his body. His face became round and supple, and his lips grew full and pouty.

He was now in the body of a fertile young woman, eye level with the Headmistress' mammoth tits. He looked up to see The Headmistress herself was slack jawed, staring intently at his tiny body. Her gaze made Scott uncomfortable, as he pushed his hair out of his eyes and blushed sheepishly. He looked like some white hip-hop model, a pretty biddie with legs like a gazelle, an ass like a plump pillow and the tits of a porn star. A wide smile spread across Miss Roberts' face.

"Change of plan," she said, still surveying her student. She began to explain to Scott about a unique 'mentoring opportunity' she had for him. She told him that he no longer would need to attend normal classes, as long as he came to her office every morning and lived in his current body for the duration of their mentoring. Not one to get out of work Scott tentatively agreed, deciding to forgo his losses and treat his forthcoming sessions as a vacation.

"Good," said the Headmistress. "Now I'll have some clothes brought in for you. Feel free to take the rest of the day off once they arrive, I need to attend to some things. I look forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning."

Chapter 9

As Scott entered the kitchen, he noticed the food he had made had been taken off the counter, probably by his Husband. He strode across the marble floor and into the exquisite dining room.

A large chandelier hung over the long finished oak table and cast small beads of light around the room. Paintings and a deer head adorned the walls, while a royal red carpet sat beneath the table. Andrea Roberts sat at the end of the table, finishing up her meal. She drank the rest of the her wine from her glass and placed it on the table with a satisfied burp. She looked up and noticed her wife watching her eat. She sprouted her devilish grin and stood up. She was wearing a smoking jacket, red and velvetly, which hung open and exposed her bare breasts and rock hard abs. As she made her way over to Scott he noticed her tanned goliath legs, easily capable of crushing the oak table itself in their might (if she was so inclined.) Her sole garment worn under her jacket was a pair of black Calvin Klein briefs, which acted as a banana hammock and proud displayer of her dominance. She bent down and kissed Scott, before giving him a slap on the ass.

"Why don't you be a good boy and clean up those dishes. Then come meet me in the study. We should have a little talk."

She strutted past him and down a hallway, grabbing the bottle of wine off the counter as she passed. A disoriented Scott picked up his husband's dishes and began to make his way towards the kitchen.

Chapter 10

As he entered the study, Scott saw his husband facing away from him towards the roaring fire, sipping the bottled wine in a red velvet throne with her feet resting on the ottoman. He made his way to her chair and stood by his husband.

She looked up to him and smiled patting her lap, indicating she wanted Scott to sit. As he sat down, his (nearly) bare ass felt her manhood pushing through his wifes briefs, not letting Scott ignore his own lack of a dick. Miss Roberts' glassy eyes looked at him and she began to speak.

"I'm sure you're confused with many questions and emotions swirling through your head, so I want to set a couple things straight. Does that sound good to you baby?"

Scott coyly nodded. He liked being called baby.

"Alright. Feel lucky that I'm telling you this, no student has been allowed to know these things throughout the entire history of Miss Deville's. The rumors that all of the female staff of MDA used to be male students is nearly true. I am the sole exception. The only way our administration works is by being run by a woman. A woman is the only being strong enough and smart enough to deal with the workload and be a successful Headmistress. With me so far?"

Scott nodded, becoming momentarily distracted by her bare chest, another show of her dominance (she made Scott wear bras for her pleasure.) Miss Roberts put a finger under his chin and raised it until he was looking at her face again. She continued.

"The reason you've been feeling so...complacent around me is a side-effect of the magic that changed you. Long story short I can make you do whatever I want and be horny whenever I want you to be." Scott knew this to be true. She had been controlling him all this time, making him be polite, curtsy, even becoming her cum dumpster while making him belive it's his choice. He nervously gulped, his stomach beginning to churn.

"But don't worry hun," she continued. "From now on, I won't control you that way. Unless of course, that's what you need." She winked and took a long drink from the bottle. She slowly brought the bottle from her lips and smacked them, indicating her satisfaction. "However..." she slowly proceeded. "There is one thing that keeps you close." Scott could tell he wasn't going to like the sound of this.

"Remember that load of mine you swallowed?" Mistress laughed at herself. "Of course you do. Bet you can STILL taste it." He could.

"Well when you swallowed my seed we completed the wedding ritual and you are officially my wife. Which means one thing...the only source of nutrition your body will accept from now on is my jizz."

Scott sat motionless, letting that last statement sink in. He definitely felt that all that semen tasted TOO good. She moved her hand onto his ass as he began to tear up.

"Oh don't cry like that hun," she said, wiping the tears from his baby face. "You'll always be taken care of, and you won't need to go to school anymore." Scott began to sob.

"I miss my penis," he howled. "I want my manhood back."

Miss Roberts pulled her wife in close and let him cry it out. She rubbed his back and stroked his hair and let him know that she's there for him. She began feeding him wine like feeding a baby milk, and he began to calm down. Miss Roberts couldn't stand to see such a pretty face sad. She looked deep into Scotts eyes and went in for a kiss.

She kissed him with a deep love and attraction that put Scott at ease. He fell against her chest and let her enjoy his body, surrendering to the moment, to her power. They made out for what seemed like hours, before Miss Roberts picked him up, putting him on the chair and standing up. She untied her robe and let it fall to the floor, exposing her Herculean body. She pulled off Scotts panties and spread his legs, exposing his glistening, hairless pussy. Scott put his hand over his poon, trying to save some face. Miss Roberts seductively moved his hands, enjoying the view of her sexy little wife and the buffet he kept between his legs. She dove her tongue into his hole, eating him out like a hungry wolf.

Her tongue slurped and slithered all over his vagina, while his eyes rolled around in his head. He put his hands on her head to gain some stability, only being keeping it together until she began to finger-fuck him, sending his mind back into a whirling pool of pleasure. It didn't take long for him to cum, waves of ecstasy washing though his tiny frame, making him loose all senses and falling into bliss. Miss Roberts stood up, Scotts body still convulsing with jolts of pleasure.

Mistress Roberts was sporting quite a chubby by this point. She stood up, leaving Scott to try to put himself back together. She pulled her briefs off, letting her meat and veg dangle in front of her lover, tantalizing him. For having ejaculated so recently, her rod hadn't lost any power. It's full 13 inches dangled like a carrot on a stick in front of Scott. He involuntarily began to salivate, a fact which his Husband noticed. Miss Roberts took her fingers and shoved them into Scotts mouth, letting him taste his own juices while she pulled on her sausage, getting it nice and hard for him. Scott closed his eyes and sucked in earnest on her fingers, pacifying him and turning her on.

Once she was hard, she scooped Scott up in her mighty arms and walked to closer to the fire, where she laid him down on the bear rug that sat in from of the fire. While on his back, she petted his pussy and removed his kimono and bra, freeing his massive breasts to bounce about as his vagina readied itself. Miss Roberts moved in between his legs and rubbed her cock head against his opening, making Scott nearly froth at the mouth.

"Put it in," Scott demanded, head reeling.

"Ask nicely," responded Miss Roberts. "And call me Momma."

"Put your cock in me Please Momma," Scott blurted, opening his eyes to let her know he was serious.

She granted his wish, plunging her member into his slit. Scott let out a long moan as Miss Roberts stayed motionless, letting his body get used to being invaded. She began pumping in and out, silently letting him know who does the fucking around here, and who gets fucked around here. Her ripped arms stood on both sides of his head, while Scott reached up to put his arms around her and dig his nails into her back. He wrapped his legs around her waist and synchronized his hips to hers, letting her pentrate him deeper, letting her have all of him.

"Fuck me Momma, fuck me good," blurted Scott, his vag tightening around his Mistress. Miss Roberts pulled out and flipped him over, pulling his hips up to her waist. She entered him doggy style, drilling him like a prospector drilling for oil. She grabbed his long blode locks, pulling his hair and controlling his head while she pounded. Eventually, she pushed his shoulders into the soft rug, and pounded with everything she had.

"Who's my good little slut?" Miss Roberts asked.

"I am Momma. I'm the best little whore you've ever had."

Miss Roberts grabbed his plump bubble booty, slapping and groping it like it was her property (which it was,) making love to the most gorgeous ass she had ever seen.

And that sent her over the edge. She quickened her pace, to the delight of her wife before pulling out, rushing to the other side of her wife and driving her cock down his throat.

She began depositing load after load into him, while he moaned in appreciation. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close till his nose was pressed against her hairless pelvis and her balls rested against his cute dainty chin. When she felt herself empty, she pulled out, allowing her spouse to lick off any excess liquids from her cock.

She picked her spouse up effortlessly, cradling his adorable body in her arms and kissing him passionately. Their naked bodies provided a start contrast as she carried him up the stairs into their bedroom, a toned, muscular goliath with a python dick and gorgeous melons carrying a short, apple bottomed beauty completely filled with cum.

She carried him up to their king sized bed and playfully threw him on it, before climbing into the sheets herself. She pulled the sheets over the two of them and took the position of the big spoon, their naked forms pressed together while she cupped his D-sized boob in her hand. She kissed the back of his head and before long they were both asleep.

Chapter 11

The sunlight peeking through the curtains forced Scott awake eventually, him rubbing his eyes and yawning. He opened his eyes to see the bedroom for the first time in whole, as he had only previously seen it shrouded in darkness. All the furniture in the place was matching finished oak, beautifully gleaming in the morning sun. There was a bureau, a small desk with a mirror and drapes surrounding the plush bed. It was a cozy little room indeed.

Scott sat up, realizing his husband was nowhere in sight. He got out of bed, slipped on a robe and made his way downstairs where his husband was fixing coffee in a t-shirt and shorts. She looked good.

"Morning baby," Miss Roberts cooed, approaching Scott and giving him a long, juicy smootch. "I'm glad you're up, I thought I fucked you into a coma last night.

Scott smiled as his husband handed him a cup of joe. He sipped it and was satisfied.

"Now for future reference, I like my coffee made for me," said Miss Roberts, stirring a cup. "But I'll let it slide today. Just remember that you need to get up early every day to fix breakfast and do your chores. Alright?"

"Alright," Scott replied.

"Perfect. You hungry?" asked Miss Roberts, raising an eyebrow.

"Starving," said Scott.

"Well come feed yourself, while I drink my coffee and read the paper." Miss Roberts opened her robe then sat on a stool by the counter, pulling out the morning paper. Scott ducked under the counter and maneuvered himself until his husbands equipment was right in front of his face. He began to suck like a piglet on a sow, sucking for his sustenance, his nutrition.

Once they were both fed, Miss Roberts left to read in the study while Scott began to do the dishes when the doorbell rang.

"I got it," he heard his husband call from the other room. He listened intently, trying to hear who it was that had come. He heard the door open, some laughing and the door closing, making Scott ever more curious. As he finished his final dish he turned to see none other than Coach Camilla herself in his kitchen, smiling.

"Hello there, Scott."

Chapter 12

Scott wasn't ready for guests. He was still very embarrassed about having a pretty little body, and being seen by the school sports coach was too much. He held his robe shut to try to hide as much as he could, but it was no use.

"Damn Andrea, I heard you had lucked out but I never realized Scott could get this sexy."

Coach Camilla was the head Football, Basketball, Baseball and Soccer coach for MDA. She was a gorgeous ebony beauty with a strong will and a big afro to boost. She was wearing an MDA sweatshirt and sweatpants and sneakers, looking like she had just come from a jog.

"Yea tell me about it, this sweet piece of ass has been quite the handful," Miss Roberts explained entering behind Camilla and joining her in oogling Scotts body.

"And he does everything for you, cooking, cleaning and all the rest?" asked the coach.

"Especially all the rest," joked Miss Roberts. The two women laughed while Scott grew more and more defensive. Camilla approached him and walked around him, surveying him for...something.

"I can't thank you enough for this," Camilla explained. "It's been so long."

"Oh don't mention it, what are friends for?" replied Miss Roberts. Scott became suspicious.

"What are you two talking about?" he demanded. Coach Camilla turned to the Headmistress.

"You didn't tell him?" she inquired. Turning to Scott she explained. "honey, we're here to double-team you.

"Wh-what?" asked Scott.

Camilla laughed. "Wow Andrea, you really should have prepared the kid." Miss Roberts came to Scott and began rubbing his shoulders.

"See baby, like me, Camilla here has...well..."

"I got a cock honey, just like your hubby here."

"Right. She was given it - like me - to be able to dominate in her field. Except her field is an ACTUAL field. However unlike me, she's not allowed to take on a husband or even 'discipline' her pupils really." Scott began to see where this was going.

"Being her friend she told me of her struggles, so when I got you I figured I'd share." The two hulking women smiled and began to approach him, picking him up and bringing him back to the bedroom.

Chapter 13

Coach Camilla was as well endowed as Miss Roberts, to Scotts horror/delight. They put him to his knees and get him working on jerking them off while they made out in an A-frame above him. They made their way to the bed and spit-roasted him, Camilla fucking his face while Miss Roberts worked on his pussy. But they grew tired.

"You wanna double penetrate 'im?" Camilla asked, mid thrust.

"Thought you'd never ask," replied the Headmistress. Camilla removed her cock from Scotts throat and laid on the bed, grabbing Scott and putting him on her dick.

"Ride, cowboy," Camilla demanded. Scott obeyed, turning his head to his husband.

"Please leave my ass in one piece," he begged.

"I'll try," his husband replied. She got behind him, crouching as he rode the Coach like a madman. Scott could feel his husband's member pressing it's head into his derriere and his eyes widened as his sphincter clenched itself. Miss Roberts got close behind his ear and sensually whispered, "Open for Momma."

As she said that his asshole involuntarily relaxed itself and let his Mistress in. She showed no mercy, taking ownership of the final place in Scotts body that was sacred. She ploughed him while Coach Camilla nailed his pussy from below, making Scott wail and moan in ecstasy and red-hot embarrassment.

Chapter 14

And that's the way it was. Scott got up every morning, shined his husband's shoes and did all the chores before greeting her with a cup of coffee, the paper and a thirsty mouth. He took his 'classes,' always learning new ways to please her and always looking sexy, both to please his husband and to let everyone know that Miss Roberts owns the sexiest piece of ass they have ever seen.

When Scott makes mistakes he is always rightly punished, usually with an anal pounding paired with a stern talking to, though Scott seems to be making more and more 'mistakes' these days. From time to time Miss Roberts will slip her member in Scotts bottom in the middle of the night, whispering, "Open for Momma," in his sleeping ear and entering him. Eventually Scott needed the security of his husband invading his back door to be able to sleep.

He was her prize. She was his Mistress.

And they were happy.



Headmistress' Slut



Standing in the playground waiting for my daughter to burst through the school door, my thoughts of how fast the years were passing were broken by a familiar figure walking towards the entrance to the large hall, adjacent to the main block. I turned away, hoping she didn't catch me staring, but my curiousness over her brought my eyes back, resting on her curvaceous figure. I swallowed in her beauty. I wasn't even sure it was her beauty that captivated me, but there was something about Miss Pittuck, the headmistress, that made her creep into my darkest fantasies in the dead of night.

I could feel the lips of my pussy swelling, overlapping the sides of my moistening thong. My tits felt even more restricted in my bra as my breathing drastically changed. It was as if she had virtually stepped out of last night's fantasy, minus a couple of 'the tools of the trade'. Her breasts bounced evenly as she strutted across the playground. Her black knee-high skirt was slit up the side and god, her black tights, oh shit, could they be stockings, were flirting with my eyes and mind. My gaze descended further and finally stopped at her shoes. They were about three inches high and she walked so confidently in them. I stared blankly at her, not noticing that she had stopped. All my mind was thinking was what the hell was above that slit in her skirt. Were they tights? Were they stockings? In my fantasies she was always in stockings. If she was wearing them now I imagine that the soft lacy tops would be just a breath away from the top of that slit.

Suddenly I was brought out of my reverie by her authoritative voice. "Is there something wrong, Ms Leoni?" She was smiling, a cocky grin that broadened with every passing millisecond. I couldn't answer. I stood there, flushed, sweaty and uncomfortable. "You're looking flushed dear, maybe you should come with me. You look like you could do with sitting down." She held her arm out and I began to walk towards her. 

She waited until I was at her side and she took the lead then began walking. I was rendered speechless, withdrawing into myself and feeling myself fall. Although she was nineteen years my senior I could barely keep up with her, my knees were weak and all I could see in front of me were those legs, encased in nylon. Fuck, what the hell had come over me. Within the last six months I had stooped to a deliciously new low. I was in a depraved new world, where fantasy and reality were becoming blurred. 

I no longer look at women and wonder how the hell they stand upright in those heels, now all I think about is how much I would love to get on my knees and worship their shoes. I no longer like the term, tights. I love the word stockings or nylons. Again, to drop to the floor and run my fingers and my tongue over the material and ascend to that treasured place would give me so much pleasure. Knickers aren't knickers anymore. They are panties, a word so much sexier than knickers. Shoes or boots with heels are just known as heels. 

I know I should be ashamed of my perverse behaviour, but I'm not. I thrive on it. I love the pleasure and the intensity that I get from such depravity. I love the feeling that I worship a woman from across the ocean. An anonymous woman, who I assume, is American or Canadian, the "z" instead of the "s" in a lot of her words is a telltale sign. She tells me what she's wearing everyday, what colour and style her panties are and what, if I had the chance would I like to do with them. As the weeks then months passed, one thing led to another and now I crave to do dirty and depraved acts, from wanting to look up women's skirts to wanting to lick the crutch of their panties and doing other disgusting things. 

My Mistress from afar fuelled my desire to want and need these feelings I possess, almost subconsciously training me and manipulating my mind. I told her about the school headmistress and how I had come to fantasise about her. I felt no shame as I thought of lying beneath her as she straddled me and degraded me. Her heels, nylons and short skirts with slits riding up the thigh were all it took to make me rush home and ask for permission to masturbate before bedtime. It was a question that I knew the answer to, but I always asked in hope! And here I was, feeling the exact same way as I do when I go into submission with my Mistress.

We were now in Miss Pittuck's office and she sternly told me to sit. I sat in the hard leather chair near the large bookcase. Her office was big, nearly the size of one of the classrooms. She sat behind a large wooden desk and opened up the bottom drawer and pulled out two glasses and a decanter, half filled with whiskey. As she poured the drinks she spoke to her secretary through the intercom system, telling her to go and find my daughter and allow her to help out in the after school crèche.

She walked over to me and handed me the glass of whiskey. "Drink this, you'll feel better!" I took the glass from her and sipped a small amount of the copper coloured liquid. She stood at close range in front of me. I hesitantly took another sip as Miss Pittuck spoke to me. "Are you going to tell me what happened in the playground, young lady?"

My heart skipped a beat as she spoke to me in that way. Why do teachers always make you feel inferior? I trembled and the glass slipped from my hand. It appeared to fall in slow motion as it headed towards the floor, but luckily the soft, deep pile carpet cushioned its fall. I leant down and tried to retrieve the glass but from the angle I was at, I couldn't. I slipped off the leather chair and was practically on my knees. Miss Pittuck never stepped back and I was up close to her legs. I glanced at her heels and licked my lips. I wanted to touch her, wanted to kiss her heels and stroke her nylon covered legs. Oh, god what was I thinking. To touch the material that sat closely on her shapely legs would send me to a place I had only felt in the comfort of my own home, under instruction from my Mistress overseas.

I pulled myself from thinking of these thoughts and I grabbed at the glass. My other hand fell upon the arm of the chair and I began to lift myself back onto it. Then I heard the words that sent my insides into disarray. "I think you look better on the floor, don't you?"

I looked up at her, hoping that she was mildly teasing me. She knew I was uncomfortable already. Silence still prevailed in me. I just rose to my feet and she still didn't move an inch. We were now facing each other, although not face to face, she was a good three or four inches taller than me. "Undo your blouse, just the top two buttons!" It wasn't a request where I could say yes or no. It was an order. As my fingers fumbled with the buttons her eyes widened and she smiled. "Good girl, I like to know that you do as I ask!" I looked at her with confusion and gasped as reality struck in the pit of my stomach.

"Oh god… no!" My senses were all over the place. I slumped myself in the leather chair, trying to establish normality in my breathing. I fingered the thin black necklace that hung around my neck. My trembling fingers stroked the large sterling silver letter "M" that sat above my cleavage. Never in a million years did I think that my darkest thoughts would ever become a reality. And here she was, standing dominantly over me. How long had she known I was the one? I stuttered as I spoke. "How… how long have you known?" 

"A while, a couple of months. You know, you should really be careful what you tell people. Why do you think I stand in the corridor, inconspicuously looking out into the playground? I'm watching you look for me. I love the way your eyes follow me. They burn into me. I feel you. And I can only imagine what goes on between your thighs each afternoon and of course at night after you've read my mails that I send to you!"

"Fucking hell, I don't believe this!" I became flustered. I stood up, attempting to stand my ground. My fingers raked through my hair, strands of it stuck to my clammy palm. "I've told you things, confessed to you! You know… everything. You know what I've done to please you. Shit, shit…" I couldn't speak anymore. She carefully placed her hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the chair. My resistance withered as her touch soothed me. 

Her hand went to my hair and she spiralled my curls around her perfectly manicured fingers. "Yes I do know everything and you can't imagine how much pleasure I've got out of you and all those dirty things you've done, that nobody knows about. I intend to treat you just the same as before. Only now, I get to see just how obedient you really are and I get to see the sordid little tasks that you do for me!" I swallowed hard as her words swam through me. She took a step back and commanded me to stand. I did at once. "Now, show me what you are wearing under that skirt and it better be what I requested you to wear." I hesitantly stood up and lifted my skirt to show her. My fingers shook as I held it up. "You know how I like you to position yourself. What do you do at home when I ask you to show me your panties?"

My face reddened and tears welled in my eyes. This was harder in reality. Her eyes cut through me, waiting for me, challenging me to give in and runaway from a fantasy that has given me more pleasure and passion than I have ever known. She, as well as I knew that running away wasn't an option. "When I'm at home I bend over the bed and I lift my skirt. I flip it and it lands on my back. I am then open to your scrutiny. I stay that way for two minutes, watching the illuminated clock in the darkness. Even though you aren't there, I feel you all over me."

Her finger brushed a tear away as it escaped down my cheek. She spoke softly but with a firm undertone. "Turn around and get on the chair. Put your knees on the arms and lean forward. I want to finally get a feel of what I own!" I did as she requested. My thighs were spread and I could feel the cool air mingle with the tropical heat of my pussy. I suddenly moaned as I felt her hands glide up each outer thigh. As her hands rose, my skirt inched up, higher and higher. I then felt her fingers run across my bottom. "Mmm, you feel good my little slut!" Another moan escaped from me as I heard that word. Slut. It makes me feel so dirty and naughty. Makes me revel in what I am. To hear her say it in person sends me closer to the edge. I felt my skirt being lifted over my bottom and held in place on my lower back. "You are a good girl aren't you? The red thong, just as I requested!" 

I grunted as her fingers slipped between my thighs and she stroked my barely covered pussy. I heard the squelching of my juices as she pressed her fingers into me. I lowered my head and my scent rose up, travelling through my nostrils, heightening my desire. I involuntarily began to grind my pussy onto her fingers. She placed her other hand on the back of my head and grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged my head back. As she did this she plunged two fingers into my soaked pussy. She pounded into me. I was gasping and whimpering. "Mistress please… it's been so long, I need to cum. I have to cum… pleeasseee!"

She slowed down the pace of her fingers and leant into me and whispered. "Begging already eh? You know I like it when you beg."

In between ragged breaths, I pleaded with her. "Please… I need it… please don't make me wait any longer!"

Her fingers picked up the pace again. "How… long… has it… been?" With each word she fucked me harder. "When… was…the last time I … said you… could cum?" I could feel her fingers deep within me, scraping and circling around my inner walls. I was gasping and groaning, fighting for breath as she assaulted my pussy. "Answer me slut!" 

"Six… oh god…six days Mistress. Please… ohh let me cum!" I began to sob as I pleaded. 

Shortly afterwards she withdrew her fingers and started to roughly rub my clit. "Cum for me… cum for your Mistress!" Her voice purred but still oozed control. My knees went numb and the tingling swept upwards, taking my thighs, my buttocks and finally my pussy. I screamed into the leather chair as wave after wave of orgasmic pulses ripped through me. I jerked back and forth on her hand as the throbbing pulses subsided. My face and tits had stuck to the leather chair. I felt my juices seeping down my thighs and they finally dripped onto the cool leather beneath me. I felt her fingers edge around my face and they entered my mouth. I licked and sucked frantically on them, removing all traces of myself from her. I sunk in the chair, thanking her for allowing me to cum. 

My breathing was still abnormal when she asked me to stand. "You want more don't you?" My eyes lowered and I nodded. "Dirty little slut, aren't you?"

I meekly responded. "Yes Mistress." Again my pussy began to get wet, a fresh stickiness was felt between my thighs. My knees weakened and my face flushed.

"Take off your panties!" She sternly commanded. I peeled the sodden material from my pussy and felt the cool moistness edge down my legs. I stepped out of them and handed them to her. She then brought them to my nose and I inhaled my arousal and the aftermath of my orgasm. I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes, the scent sending more desire coursing through me. She quickly bunched them in her hand and ordered me on my knees. "You've left your secretions on my chair, clean it!" I dropped to my knees at once and passionately licked at the cool leather, secretly wishing it was one of her heels I was frantically caressing. 

When I finished cleaning the chair I stayed on my knees and waited for her next request. I heard her begin to chuckle. "I think you better tidy yourself up, you look nothing like a mother! A slut yes, a mother no!" I stood up and caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the glass panes on the large cabinet in the corner. My clothes were dishevelled and my hair messy and unruly but I could also see that I glowed. I was radiant and alive. I looked like a slut and it felt so good inside. 

Her voice startled me as I began to straighten out my skirt. "You are officially mine, Ms Leoni! I own you. The email contact will remain but you will be requested to come to me when I ask for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress." With that she told me I was dismissed. I looked at her one more time, my thong crumpled in her palm sitting inches from her nose. I smiled and headed for the door, inwardly ecstatic as to what had just happened.