3 comments/ 29517 views/ 11 favorites School Secretary Tastes Power By: away443 Debbie had come a long way since her wild years. She was 36, a single mother, rid of all her bills and obligations. For the first time ever she was out of debt and had a steady career. Having left a crummy job at a big oil company for a small-town high school, she thought that she wouldn't see male chauvinism in the workplace ever again. How wrong was she! Though she didn't get her ass slapped by men any more, there were definitely some hurdles. Her one consolation was the level of independence given to her in the new job. She was hired as a history department secretary but steadily progressed into an administrator over the last two years. The fat principal, Mr. Combs, walked in without knocking and threw a thick stack of papers on her desk. It was the teacher reviews he was supposed to do, but wanted her to complete instead. He strung some words with a heavy twang, "Here Deb, and make sure this here gets sent to central records when it's done." He pronounced sent like "saaint" and left. She loathed him. If only the year would end sooner, she could be reclassified as a teacher and be her own woman. Benefits that come with that job were heavily sought after. Having no college education, she'd finally get some respect. She went through a teacher's course and passed it with flying colors. Now, it was all down to a review and approval of the principal, but he was taking his time. He was purposely delaying settling the question, avoiding her and all conversations about it. The wait was painful but it was also a useful reminder of how far she'd already come up in life. At end of the year, the question of her certification would come up automatically in a mandatory backlog review by the superintendent, so she just had to ride it out. But that was almost a whole year away. She sighed at the thought, but things were still very hopeful. The principal was enjoying using her for menial labor, she was sure of it. She did most of his job, her job and then some, all at a secretary's wage. But she got something out of it too - a measure of power. These days she wasn't being directed by anyone - she was in fact running the show. Scheduling, special events, budget, but most importantly - administrative decision making. It's not often that a secretary is seen hiring staff. Debbie felt thrilled the first time she interviewed someone. Mr. Combs rubber-stamped nearly all her recommendations. He changed some for no particular reason; she supposed it was just to show her he was in charge. The next few weeks were completely uneventful. She slowly made her way through the reviews. Business went on as usual. It was the last period on a quiet rainy Friday. "Oh hey Qiana", Debbie greeted her best student. Qiana was a slim African-American girl and the only one who did any work around the office. It was customary for every high school in the state to have student aides. The history department here was no different in this regard, and a rotating shift of student helpers lurked around the offices, evading work as much as possible. The school had changed to a block schedule the year before last and classes were now twice as long as usual. This allowed senior students to work as student aides for up to four hours, replacing gym with a substitute elective. Busiest time of the day was, of course, the last period - end of the day. That was the only time when student aides did any work. In fact, all aides compressed their entire collective day's workload into the last hour of the day. Qiana beamed for being noticed and replied cheerfully, "Oh hi Miss. Debbie, how you doin' today?" Other stragglers came in just before the bell rang. It was a normal day, like any other. Debbie was trying to finish a proposal to procure city funding for a big project on top of dealing with her regular workload, including that damned teacher review. She mostly used aides as couriers. They were not to be trusted with independent projects for obvious reasons, but could easily handle simple requests. Debbie's desk faced a wall and her student aides sat in a row of chairs behind her. "Peter, this is for Mrs. LaMont", she said without looking back. Typically, she would swiftly turn around in her computer chair and hand out papers to be delivered somewhere. The aides would slowly get up, walk two feet, take the paper in slow motion and drag their feet across the building over the next hour. She sent Peter to the library to get a budget from the hundred-year-old woman who worked there. Ten minutes later, Qiana went to the annex building to annoy the shop teacher. She took her rainbow umbrella with her and smiled, visibly relishing the thought of walking in the rain. She'd get to use her rubber boots finally. Debbie shook her head; that girl was too cheerful. Lost in thought, Debbie spun around in her chair, one hand holding a paper she was reading and the other habitually open. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was unexpectedly holding something in her open hand. She lowered her paper and realized what had happened. Anticipating her turning around, a student aide got up early to grab a printout and was standing next to her when she turned around. Now, she was accidentally touching his crotch. His cock seemed hard as a rock through his pants. How long was she touching it? "Oh god!" she muttered. Awkward wouldn't be a proper word to describe the situation. Debbie felt as if she blacked out for a moment. She could not remember grabbing his crotch, but there it was, in her hand. Slow to respond, she finally let go of it and murmured an apology. The boy, Clayton, replied with an apology. "My bad .. I shouldn't be coming up behind people." She handed him the paper, and hoped he'd figure out where it went. She was flustered. After he left her office she started thinking about the incident, wondering if she should report it to someone. After the fifth or so evaluation of what had happened, Debbie flushed red. "That little son of a bitch should watch where he's walking", she thought. Her work concentration was completely ruined. She kept revisiting that moment in time trying to figure out why the experience felt so horribly inappropriate. On one hand, it was pretty obvious why the situation was inappropriate, but on the other hand, there was another layer to it. Aside from that obvious fondling, Clayton was merely 18 years old. She was old enough to be his mother! In the end, she transferred all the blame onto him. "Why was that little prick pitching a tent in the office anyway?" she wondered. Just then, a fat walrus with thick unkempt moustache walked in. It was Mr. Combs. He looked serious. "Deb, we've gotta talk about your request. The one about becoming a teacher." Finally, she thought! He wasn't ignoring the request anymore. He didn't even ask if she was busy. That was okay, this new development was more important to her than privacy at the office. "Why please, have a seat." The principal sat down and the poor chair strained under his weight. He ran a finger under his nose and snorted loudly. Deborah was nervously excited at what he was about to say. "Deb, you heard about Mr. Leverette, right?" She nodded. Robbi Leverette was the district superintendent whom everyone knew. He'd been around for half a century and everyone liked him. He was sure to approve her promotion to teacher. "Well, seems he took his wife's passing away harder than we thought. He's retiring e-ffective immediately." "Oh no!" she despaired. But this meant that... Mr. Combs smiled, twisting his moustache into a grin. "That leaves me as his interim replacement. Now what I wanted t'talk to you about is I can't approve your teacher request until things settle down." He shifted his weight. "I'll need you to help me with things around here." She swallowed hard and asked, "And how long do you think that would take?" He started to stand up and walk away. "Well, it'll be awhile before things settle down. Maybe couple of years tops, no more than five." He held up his fingers to indicate five, but his thumb was bent into his palm and he was showing four. It was a confusing message. She shook her head and before she could plead with him, he was gone. "Ugh!" she screamed into her sleeve. Having done all this work for him meant nothing. He took years of her life and wanted more, more bitchwork. And she'd get nothing out of it. She drove home angry and stayed angry for a whole week. She honked in traffic, snapped at everyone for no reason, applying her unchanneled anger to the wrong people. A week later, she ran into the superintendent's secretary, Babs. She was an old classy lady who was nice to everyone. "Sorry you didn't get the teacher position Deborah", she said sympathetically, adding "I'm sure it'll happen soon sweetie." Debbie felt Babs was genuinely well-meaning, "Oh it's all right, I have plenty of work to do as it is." Just then, Debbie figured out why Clayton pitched a tent. Turns out, it was stupidly obvious. Her computer chair was much higher off the ground than the ones aides sat in. Even though those chairs were small to begin with, Clayton always slouched in the same one while he waited for work. Debbie often wore dresses and light-colored pantyhose to work. It was an old conservative habit from her secretary days that never went away. While none of her work dresses were really short, they always rode up over her knees as she typed at her computer. Her nervous ticks included absent-mindedly putting her feet even higher up on the chair wheels, and pinching her pantyhose in places and releasing them like a rubber band. Debbie realized that Clayton was peeking up her dresses. She felt violated. "That little pervert! How dare he!?" she said to herself. Over the next week, more than once she stopped herself from calling Clayton into a meeting to discuss his inappropriate behavior. However, since she couldn't be entirely certain about what was going on, she hesitated. This felt worse than having her career arrested by a spiteful fat man. One late evening, as she was sipping a glass of cognac and preparing her work outfit, she had an idea. A really bad idea, but it seemed good at the time. She was going to test her theory by baiting him. Instead of her usual pantyhose and a dress slip, she chose a garter belt and tan thigh highs. A normal dress wasn't going to cut it tomorrow, so she picked out red panties and a short gray skirt out of the closet. "Lets see if that little pervert notices me tomorrow", she thought. Idea was that she was going to tempt him into peeking, then catch him and have him disciplined. And she'd finally nail someone for something. She slept in that night, hitting the snooze button too many times. Rushing to get ready, she absent-mindedly started dressing and then realized what she was putting on. She hesitated and shook her head at the mirror. What had gone through her head last night? She shouldn't make any decisions like that while tipsy, but she was running late and didn't have time to pick out a different outfit. The garter belt wouldn't cooperate so she clipped only one nylon. The other one seemed to stay put. At work, everyone noticed her different outfit. Her legs were very toned and she never showed them and now they were drawing eyes. Men who never spoke with her before made sure to compliment her looks. It made her feel wanted, appreciated. Warm inside. It was a busy day so she kept running to different offices and classrooms, herding signatures. Once or twice, she realized her loose nylon had slipped and top of it was showing. She adjusted it unapologetically while men stared. She knew they were watching her, and giggled thinking how simple men were. By the end of the day, the entire male portion of the department came in just to chatter for a minute or two. One of the most difficult colleagues walked in on her clipping her nylon and froze watching her. She needed it to stay put, so she ignored him letting him watch, and concentrated on finishing the task at hand. When she was finished, she realized her enemy had melted into putty. He became incredibly easy-going. For the first time in her life, Debbie felt empowered by her body, instead of merely objectified. Now that she ranked equal or higher than the men she worked with - at least in power given to her by administrative duties - she didn't just feel like a piece of meat. Somehow, the power tables had turned. In that one day she got more accomplished from dealing with colleagues than from that entire semester of haggling. People who were resistant to her written proposals somehow managed to let their hormones get the better of them and okayed it in person. The skirt wasn't even that short! The principal again walked into her office unannounced. Intending to dump a stack of papers on her desk, he was taken aback by what he saw. "Why Miss. Debbie, you look great today" was all he said. She smiled, batted her eyelashes and he started ranting. After awhile, he left, but to her shock he took all the paperwork he was going to dump in her lap with him. Debbie was amazed. By the last period, she had forgotten all about Clayton and her immature plan from last night. Things were just going so great that she decided to forget her grudge. In fact, the prior situation seemed downright comical. She was going to expend all that negative energy stopping a teenage boy from getting what teenage boys get from a blowing wind. Remembering last night's ill-conceived plan, Debbie turned around in her chair. As usual, Clayton was slouching in the seat behind her, facing her and playing with his phone. Debbie looked at him for a moment and smirked. This was too funny to her now: a juvenile grudge resulted in her getting an incredible amount of work done. Maybe she should reward Clayton for his contribution, she thought. She was feeling saucy. She picked up the school directory book and put it right in front of her face. As she was doing this, she turned around and started spreading her legs slowly apart. Her skirt was stretched tight. Debbie found her name in the directory and spent a minute admiring her job title. "See anything you like?" she thought to herself. After a minute, she slowly put the book down and looked at Clayton. He looked away, pretending to have been staring aimlessly the entire time; however, the bulge in his pants gave him away. He must have gotten one hell of a peek at her red panties. Just then, the bell rang. Debbie smiled and wished Clayton a good afternoon. She spent the next few seconds watching him struggle with concealing his erection and after he finally walked out of the office, she laughed out loud. This had been a good day. She had gotten a high of feeling powerful, despite acting like she was a piece of meat. In fact, it was such a good day that when Debbie got home, she couldn't sit still. A sense of accomplishment coupled with knowing that she had an advantage over her colleagues made her feel excited, and it was spilling over to other parts of her brain. She could feel the invisible power lines that her body broadcast to men. As she started changing out of her work clothes, she discovered that she was wet. Surprised, she explored her pussy for a moment. It was not often that Debbie masturbated, but today was a day worth celebrating. She decided to put off changing for a few minutes. Crawling over her bed, she reached into her night stand and pulled her vibrator out. Holding it in her hand, she remembered the last time she held a real cock. It had been years, but she vividly remembered it wiggling near her face while she laid back against the pillow. Sadly, it belonged to the fat principal, Mr. Combs. She regretted her impulsive affair with him two years ago. He was a disgusting man and married, but she had just started working at the school and liked all the empowerment and attention he was giving her. The few times they had sex, she regretted it instantly, despite a few rare moments of pleasure. It was kind of hot having him straddle her chest and fuck her mouth. The first time it happened, she invited him over for a drink and things spiralled out of control quickly. They were flirting and she was buzzed and he was clearly interested. She felt she wanted it to happen, but once he got naked, she just wanted it to end. His big stomach kept bumping into her head, but at least his cock was decent enough. It was thick and long, so despite his bulk he could reach her mouth and make her gag from time to time. It took a big cock to do that to her. Without meaning to, she relived that memory by slowly pushing the vibrator in her mouth. She wondered what it felt like to fuck someone's face. As she imagined it, her pussy remembered being later fucked and got more wet. Her other hand crept under her skirt and found its way to her pussy lips. She remembered him pinning her down with his weight and reaming her wet pussy. She could barely breathe that day - it was as if she was tied up and there was no way for her to stop him. She rubbed her clit for awhile and then brought herself to an orgasm with her vibrator. She had to be quiet so not to wake up her daughter, so she screamed an intense orgasm into her pillow. The next day, Debbie dressed in her usual outfit. Long classy dress but nothing provocative. As soon as she got in her office she decided that she needed coffee so she headed out to the teacher's lounge. She couldn't help but notice that she got brief disappointing stares from men in the lounge. Thinking nothing of it, she resumed her work day. But, today was different than yesterday. Today, her efforts were met with noticeable resistance. The same people that she dealt with yesterday were somehow different. She finished the day without accomplishing much of anything. She even got rejected by her vibrator once she got home - the batteries ran dry. On Friday evening she was sipping cognac and feeling depressed about how strange life was when she decided to test her newly-formed theory. If the faculty wanted a whore, she was going to give them a whore. She went out shopping over the weekend and found the most provocative outfits she could get away with in a school. She proved her theory right. There was only one way that Debbie could regain her high of feeling powerful. If she objectified herself, she could not only get things done but get them done faster and easier. Strangely enough, she soon stopped feeling like a piece of meat. She reasoned she was in direct control of men's behavior through looking promiscuous so she no longer felt disgusted by it. Slowly, she embraced haughtiness. Over the next weeks she replaced all her dresses with skirts, hung up all her jackets in favor of low-cut blouses, bought shorter thigh highs and wore taller heels. She even got exciting underwear, transforming herself from an attractive conservative woman to a slutty conservative woman. At work, every pair of male eyes was glued to her ass. Debbie started getting off on Clayton watching her. She started regularly making distracted phone calls while facing him and spreading her legs. At first it was the feeling of power over him that drove her to almost purposely flash him, but that feeling later got replaced with genuine horniness. It was strange and wrong, but it turned her on to know that she, at her age, could cause raging erections. He was of the legal age, so maybe it wasn't so wrong. As it was, she was just teasing him. One day, she needed to install a new app on her stupid phone. It was a frustrating and futile attempt, full of incomprehensible error messages. It made her upset and she huffed and puffed while trying over and over again. Finally, she heard a voice behind her, "Do you need help with that Miss. Debbie?" It was Clayton. "Do you know anything about these darn things?" she asked him while spinning around in her chair. School Secretary Tastes Power "Why yes", he said confidently, "I help everyone out all the time with these." She reluctantly handed her phone over to him and explained what she wanted. He stood in front of her, his fingers a blur as he swiped, touched and typed. She looked at his crotch and wondered about how often he got an erection. Young men had so much energy. He lowered the phone and looked her in the eyes and offered, "Think the problem is you need a system upgrade before you can use this app. That's why it's failing." "I don't understand, how do I do that?" He explained, "You'll have to plug this into your computer and sync it that way because it's too big to download." She had no idea what he was talking about. "Can I use your computer?" he asked. Debbie nodded and wheeled herself out of the way. Clayton pulled up his low chair to the computer and sat down, typing and hitting buttons and clicking away. It was amazing how he understood all this stuff. Phones used to be a lot more simpler back in the day. You pick it up, dial a number, and it's done. She marvelled at how complex all life became. Modern phones made people so impersonal. They were lost in them, avoiding things right in front of their eyes. And she was in front of his. He was taking too long to fix this. She supposed that was normal because it was all complicated to her. Curious, she wheeled closer behind him, and asked him to explain what was going on. He explained but never turned around to see if she was following. He never gave her an opportunity to understand or convey ignorance with her eyes. That was upsetting. It's only polite to look people in the eyes when you talk to them. She had a terrible thought. Maybe she could will him to turn around. Over the next few minutes she wheeled herself closer and closer to him. Finally, she was almost touching him and he was still lost in the screen. Daring herself to go an extra step, she pressed her bosom against his back. Oh, that got a response. He just froze and stopped typing. Her breasts were larger than most, and somewhere between firm and soft. You couldn't miss being touched by them, not even if you were having a seizure. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was clearly becoming aroused. Debbie didn't remove her breasts from his back. He continued typing and then finally turned around to explain something. Oh, they both knew what happened, at least on a primal level. She looked him right in the eyes, her breasts poking into his back and smiled and nodded slowly, "uh huh, yeah that makes sense" as he chirped. He didn't shy away. She was in charge. She forced him to turn around and stop ignoring her, and he went along pretending like nothing happened. Her bosom was warm and soft and he leaned back into her. That got her nipples hard. She was pushing him into a proverbial corner, but he wasn't running away. She decided to change topics, "You know, if you just fixed your hair more often and dressed up some, you could date any girl you wanted at school." He blushed and explained that he was shy and wasn't all that good looking. She flirted, "Oh, I don't know, I think you're very handsome." He blushed some more and Debbie continued, "I bet my daughter would date you in a heartbeat if you asked her out." He again rejected the notion, laughing it up nervously. Debbie was getting wet, feeling her power over him manifest itself physically. His body betrayed him and she knew it. She won. She got up slowly and sat on the desk next to her monitor, raising one leg so it just barely hung off the ground. If he slouched just an inch more he could see tops of her thigh highs. Because she was partially exposed, he never looked at her and kept working on her phone. Showing some leg resulted in his complete avoidance. Debbie was enjoying toying with him. It was like mind control. If she willed something, it could happen. She spread her legs just a few inches and imagined him eating her pussy. "You'll eat my cunt, you little peeping pervert" she thought to herself and made a slightly twisted face imagining him doing it. Mid-sentence, he glanced at her, paused at her porny expression and repeated himself, "it's finished." "Oh, right, thanks", her mind returned to her office and she took her phone back. "Guess I owe you a dinner", she winked at him. Clayton blushed again and looked down at her feet, explaining that he had to be home every afternoon and wasn't allowed out after dark. He was embarrassed by his curfew. That dose of reality brought her back from her fantasies and just then, the office door opened. It was the creepy principal walking-in unannounced again. Her hair stood up in fear. Was her body language that obviously inappropriate? Did he see anything? "Oh hey there Debbie. Was just gonna see you about that email you sent." Just like that, her horniness was suppressed and gone. "Right, sure." She turned to Clayton, "Thanks again, I really do owe you for helping me out." Clayton nodded and walked away just as the bell rang. She wished him a good afternoon and slowly slid off the desk, trying to look inconspicuous. The fat man spoke again, babbling about nothing. Moment of danger had passed. While he talked, she remembered a story about him. Apparently he walked into a random biology class and went on a 15-minute rant about how some bad stories were going around that he was drunk at work, but that was all wrong. See, he wasn't drunk, but he had a "Red Eye Disease" and that's what the hubbub was about. Later, she couldn't remember what he talked about. She didn't care. Instead, she sat back on the table and spread her legs a little and watched him choke mid-sentence. Top of her thigh highs must have been sticking out from his viewpoint. "Go on Mr. Combs", she nudged him. He got flustered and started smiling and then resumed his diatribe. "You son of a bitch, you're getting off on this", she thought to herself. She put all her will power into exuding sex with her posture. His eyes wandered to her curves as he babbled. She started thinking again about Clayton eating her pussy, and made a face like he actually was. Slowly, her legs spread more to make sure Mr. Combs could see her red panties. Mr. Combs almost tripped over at seeing them. Her facial expression turned him on and he wasn't expecting it. Especially not after that first month she worked here, when she called their affair off. Debbie laughed inside and imagined straddling Clayton's face and fucking his tongue. Maybe while he was tied up. Maybe she'd whisper to him that he couldn't tell anyone. Mr. Combs looked like someone held a gun to his head: he was all excited and completely unprepared for what effect her body language had over him. Debbie wasn't sure she heard right. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" He repeated himself, adding, "Uh, yeah, I mean maybe it won't take that long for us to approve your credentials." Fucking Hell. Had she known all she had to do was show him her coochie one last time to become a teacher, she would have done it a long time ago. He was disappointingly weak, a man with no resolve and no backbone. She wanted what he was offering so badly, but she couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing it. It only made sense to play it off, so she did. "Oh, that thing? I forgot about that. Maybe we can talk about that some other time. For now, you'll have to excuse me." She got up and gently pushed him out of the office. Sitting back, she marvelled, "What the fuck was that all about?" Was she making him out to be a bigger obstacle than he really was? It was time to go home so she walked to her beat-up Chrysler. That night she was restless. What was she doing anyway? This boy was the same age as her daughter and it was horribly inappropriate to think about doing anything with him, let alone press her tits into his back. What had possessed her to do it? She could lose everything. Her daughter, her job, her trailer, her freedom. Even becoming a teacher. That's what she should be focusing on. Getting promoted was a huge challenge and it was downright disappointing to discover that Mr. Combs had been a paper tiger all along. She spat at the recurring memory of letting him fuck her. He was disgusting. What had possessed her to do that years ago? Ignoring a pattern of making questionable decisions, she thought about how easily she manipulated him. She made him fold like a cheap suit with literally no effort. No, he wasn't a challenge anymore, she decided, given how quickly he changed his tune at seeing her thighs. Clayton, on the other hand, was a forbidden fruit. Not a challenge, but a barrier she could never cross. Still, she could toy with the idea of getting near it. After all, it was just teasing, and that was all right. The next day, she pulled Clayton aside and gave him a present. "What's this Miss. Debbie?" he wondered. She smiled and told him to open it. "You've been working really hard and I thought you deserved it." It was a new jacket, advertising some mountain climbing thing all the kids raged about these days. He smiled so hard, his face almost looked like an over-inflated beach ball. "Oh gosh, oh wow, this is great. Thank you so much!" He put it on and it was just the right fit. She said "you're most welcome Clay", and hugged him. She pressed her bosom into him and felt his hard body press against their softness. He arched his back away from her politely, but she deliberately pressed herself against him. He was turned on by her, she was sure of it. She could feel his erection form against her crotch. One alligator, two alligator, three alligator. They were still hugging and neither one of them was pulling away. They both breathed unnaturally and neither one wanted to say anything. He was clearly getting turned on more, and had no desire to pull back. After five seconds, with her heart beating fast she thought that was pushing it too far so she pulled away. She walked off, leaving him feeling confused. She knew it would. At home that night, she felt so full of energy. No matter what she did, she could not expend it. All her chores finished, she retreated to her bedroom and started sipping a snifter of Grand Marnier. She looked through her closet and wondered what she should wear tomorrow. What caught her eye was her shoes on the floor. It was a simple pair of cork wedges with laces that tied around her leg. That was it! She rushed over to her kitchen and looked through drawers until she found it. She brought it back to her bedroom, threw it on the bed and closed the door, taking another sip of her cognac. On the bed was a coil of rope. As she was looking at it, she was getting wet. And how. What she was thinking about is bringing that boy over to her trailer and tying him up. And then sitting on his face, making him lick her pussy. She wanted him to beg for it. Her left hand wandered into her panties and started exploring. She was imagining an entire dialogue. She knew her imaginary exchange sounded unrealistic and artificial, but it was getting her off. It was just a dirty fantasy, but even getting it to approach tenth of reality would have been thrilling. She came hard thinking about it happening that night. After she calmed down it was all just an innocent, albeit nasty, fantasy. Next week, she took another step toward disaster and she wasn't sure if it happened willingly. Without thinking so much about it, she had all her student aides bring a signed release form allowing them to leave school grounds for special errands. That was mostly standard stuff, but she'd never actually needed this sort of thing before. She kept all the student aides busy over the week, and thought about taking Clay out for a few hours to help her collect documents and equipment. Of course, boxes of them would be conveniently located at her trailer where she could take her time and maybe tease him. This was all just a fantasy, nothing more, but he'd be great eye candy to have around at her place. She thought maybe she'd leave her lingerie laying around. Maybe she'd bend over in front of him to pick something up, and give him a nice view. Maybe he'd notice rope on the bed and ask what it was for. That could be a good transition into a "why, have you ever been tied up?" She knew her fantasies were ridiculous. That's not how people talked, or how things happened. But even getting him to see her lingerie would cause a small portion of her dirty fantasies to become real, and that would be just enough of a power kick to where she couldn't tell the difference between controlling a man with her body, and actual sex. Next Wednesday, feeling nervous and horny, she sent all the aides on errands except for him. She was dressed just like in her fantasies. "Clay, would you mind helping me go pick up a bunch of records? It's off-campus", she added. He replied shyly, "Sure thing Miss. Debbie, be happy to." They both walked to the parking lot into her car, and buckled in. She felt like her pussy was already being eaten from the excitement. No way that would actually happen- she wouldn't take this very far, but the thought of him being within reach in her own private den was erotic. She planned to later masturbate to the memory. Just as she started driving off, she heard a yell. "Miss. Debbie, wait up!" It was Qiana. Debbie cursed inwardly, hit the brakes and rolled her window down. Qiana was being way too cheerful again. "Coach Weston's out sick so I can come help!" Debbie sighed and projected a fake grin at Qiana and beckoned, "Come on in." Since there were actual documents to pick up, Debbie drove slowly so she could figure out what to do with all the naughty props she left laying around. She was biting her lip when Qiana's cell phone rang. She answered it with a loud "Halo" and started talking to her cousin. Thank the lord, this was just the thing Debbie needed. With Qiana distracted, she could give Clayton an abridged tour of her place and save face. She pulled up to her trailer, and motioned for Qiana to stay and finish her conversation. They left her behind in the car. She led Clayton to her front door, fumbled with the lock and went inside. He followed after her and looked around. Politely he said, "Nice place, Miss. Debbie." She thought to herself, "It's a trailerpark, boy" but instead replied with a measured, "Oh, thanks. Sorry about the mess." Swinging her hips, she walked to her closed bedroom door, turned around and called Clayton with her finger, "This way." He took the cue and walked up to her. She waited until he caught up, then opened the door and went inside. First thing he saw was her bed. For a crummy trailer home, it was a really nice bed. It was a centerpiece of the bedroom. Nice big bedposts, black and pink sheets. And in middle of the bed was a coil of rope, a pair of thigh highs, pile of other lingerie and a box. Debbie flirted with Clay, "sorry about the mess again, let me clean this up real quick." She walked up to her bed, got on her knees and bent over giving him a nice good look at her outfit. She pretended to pick up all the things and put them away in the box nice and slow. Clayton saw Deborah walk up on the bed and bend over in her light-blue and white checkered skirt. While she was fiddling with things, her hips and ass swayed. It got him excited. She bent over more to reach the far side of the bed so that her skirt rode up high, and he could see that she was wearing white thigh highs. He ducked down to see better, and could see her white lacy panties. Oh god, he could see her pussy lips through her panties, just like in the pornos. Where they pressed against the panties, the material was almost see-through. He wanted to touch her there. Debbie took her time. She wanted him to see it all. Just then, they both heard the front door. It must have been Qiana. Both of them turned around in alarm and slowly moved away from each other, trying to look inconspicuous. They were now both aware of each other's shared fear of discovery. It was something now in common, something they shouldn't share with anyone, their secret. Debbie thought that Clay was remarkably mature in this regard as he wasn't willing to put her at risk. Qiana came in and was just way too helpful for her own good. Three of them packed up boxes of documents and drove back to the school. That night, Debbie thought she was crazy for being so irresponsible and reckless. Qiana's tagging along was a dose of reality she didn't want. As exciting as this fantasy was, she had to put an end to it before it escalated, so she resolved to avoid Clay for rest of the semester. She had him reassigned to another department. Next week at work, she was standing over her desk late in the evening, lost in paperwork when she realized someone was behind her. Just as she turned her head, she felt a big hand touch her ass. It was Mr. Combs, and he started fondling her. She quickly pushed his hand off and said, "Stop. Not again." He smiled and put both his hands around her hips, "Oh c'mon now, I think you'll like it." She pushed both of his hands off and replied curtly, "No, I'm serious. Stop that and don't do it again. It was a mistake years ago and it's a mistake now." He smiled coyly and swung a carrot. "Well, I don't think making you a teacher is a mistake." That got her immediate attention. She asked, "What do you mean by that?", examining his eyes. They looked like he was serious. His hands grabbed her hips again and he pressed his crotch into her ass. He was hard. He explained, "Tomorrow is a district meeting and I intend to put the question forth." Suddenly she worried if she told him off again too harshly, he'll change his mind about the promotion. She told him no twice already, and the third time would have to be escalated with a threat that she didn't want to make yet. She reminded herself of how petty he could be. "Really?" she asked. "You're not kidding?" He nodded and ran his hands all over her ass. She didn't react negatively quick enough, and that unfortunately invited him to take further liberties. She sighed and felt like a fool. Of course, there was going to be a price to pay. She turned away, facing the wall. "My, Miss. Debbie, you sure look naughty these days." His crotch pressed harder into her soft ass, and his hands started going up her torso. She felt disgusted and humiliated by him but said nothing. Her hesitation to react wasn't helping. His hands ran all the way up to her big breasts and started fondling them. He grunted. "Goddamn I missed those big titties. Did you miss me?" With contempt, her eyes glazing over, she replied with an unemotional "Yes." He reached under her shirt and ran his hands all the way up to her breasts, pushing her bra off. While groping her bare flesh, his crotch pressed into her ass and he kissed her neck. She just looked at the wall, fuming at her inaction. One of his hands ran under her skirt and over her panties. "Since when do you wear nylon panties?", he wondered outloud and started stroking her pussy through them. She felt so degraded. His cock was pressing against her ass, he was playing with her pussy through her panties and squeezing her breasts. Over the past month she rode a high of wielding her body for influence and attention, and didn't realize what it would cost her. And now, apparently a day away from her goal, she couldn't just stand her ground and push him off. He was starting to kiss her neck more passionately and play rough with her breasts. She just wanted this moment to be over. With regret, she thought of the quickest way to get rid of him. She reached behind and hiked her skirt up, and then pulled her panties down. Then she licked her hand and wetted her pussy with saliva. Mr. Combs took the hint right away. "Damn girl, you did miss me", he said while unzipping himself. Within seconds, his cock was struggling to slip into her, but she was too dry. He kept rubbing it around, as if that would do anything, and grinding into her pussy lips trying to push it in. School Secretary Tastes Power Then, to her surprise, it slipped in gently. To her horror, she was getting wet from this. His big cock slipped all the way in and stretched her, making her gasp. Oh god, she didn't want this. His hands were on her hips and he was fucking her with gusto. She just wanted this to be over. "Oh you feel great Miss. Debbie", said the fat man and kept pounding her. She clenched her teeth and braced herself against the desk and let it happen. His big stomach kept driving into her and bouncing when he slammed into her. After a minute, she was ashamed that it even started feeling kind of hot and she hated herself for it. Within minutes, he came deep in her pussy without a warning. As soon as he slipped out, Debbie pulled her panties up and straightened her skirt. Not wanting a conversation, she packed her purse up and said "Now, you better go on home to your wife." Within two weeks, she had become a teacher. Everything changed. Despite the sour note on which she arrived to the job, she was ecstatic about being a teacher. She wouldn't begin her own classes until the next semester, but there was plenty of preparation and substitute work. Her classroom needed to be decorated, her syllabus needed to be drafted, and she needed to brush up on the actual courses. She worked long days and lost herself in the details. Mr. Combs checked on her daily and every time he paid her a visit, she wasn't sure if he was going to be inappropriate. For the most part, he wasn't. But then once a week he'd find her all alone late at night and run his fat hands over her body. She had compromised herself for the job, and she couldn't abruptly halt his advances now. There'd be friction. He was petty and people would notice the friction and wonder. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. She'd pull her panties down each time and let him fuck her from behind. It was absolutely humiliating and Debbie hated herself for it, but at least she didn't have to look him in the face. While fucking her, he'd ask her if she liked it, if it felt good. She would always reply with a disinterested yes, and was glad he couldn't see her facial expression. She wanted to avoid trouble more than anything. Over time, she figured she'd make herself available less and less until one day she'd tell him to stop. She couldn't be too assertive just yet. Today, after he orgasmed and zipped himself up, he told her she had to take over weekend detention starting this coming Saturday. Debbie was livid. No one at the school wanted the weekend detention program to begin with - it didn't do the job. It wasn't constructive- students didn't respond well to being disciplined like that, but the program was Mr. Combs' stupid pet project. After he left, she sat down at her teacher's desk and buried her head in her hands. Mid-week, she ran into Babs again. "Miss. Debbie, I'm so happy that you got the teacher position, I can't tell you enough." Debbie smiled and thanked her for the kind words. Babs looked around and then quietly added "I couldn't believe what Mr. Combs said at the hearing." Debbie cringed and quickly replied, "I know, it was surprising to see a secretary elevated to a teacher but I took all the training." Babs shook her head and said "No, I mean, everyone was for it. Mr. Combs adamantly refused to believe you could do the job." "What?!" Babette explained, "I know, we couldn't believe some of the stuff he said. He was the only person on the panel opposed to the idea. I don't know what you did to tick him off, but I'd watch out for him." She then left, clutching a stack of folders. If Debbie was livid earlier, she was frothing in anger now. She marched over to Mr. Combs' office and not finding him there grunted in rage. Everyone at the office froze and watched her in morbid fascination. She went home early and cried herself to sleep. She had misjudged him completely. He was far more dangerous than she thought possible. The next morning, Mr. Combs was about to pull into his reserved spot when he realized Debbie's car was in it. She was waiting for him. Walking up to his truck she yelled, "How could you do this?" He rolled his window down and said "Now, calm down and lets talk about it." Debbie couldn't be mollified. Shit, she must've figured out how that meeting went, he thought. With her voice raised she tore into him, "You son of a bitch, you made me think you were on my side when you were the one holding me back the entire time." His face turned dark and he barked at her. "Now you listen to me, you little hussy. You're not ready for this kind of work. There's a lot more to teaching than you think. I was protecting you, making sure you were ready so you didn't embarrass yourself and fail." Debbie was stunned. It's possible he actually believed what he was saying. She refused to accept it and countered, "How could you say that after all I've been through?" He looked around and quietly said, "You pulled your panties down for me and invited me to give you the teacher position. I gave it to you." She was stunned. That's not how it happened at all. "Did you think it wouldn't be suspicious if no one opposed your promotion? I had to look like a dissenter." Debbie quieted down, confused in thought. Mr. Combs parked in a nearby spot and walked toward her. "Now things aren't always as they seem, all right? I understand you're upset, but starting tomorrow I want you to observe proper decorum. I'm the acting superintendent, goddamn it. People will talk if you're this insolent. Do you want to lose your job before starting to teach?" She didn't want to lose it. Just as he hinted, the next day he came to her classroom and locked the door behind him. She was sitting at her teacher's desk, collating stacks of handouts. She wore pants and sneakers. He simply walked over to her chair, unzipped himself and pulled his cock out. It was already hard and he held it inches from her face. He sounded pissed. "So you wanted to make a scene, did you? Get on your knees Debbie." She just looked at him in disbelief. Why would she do that? She was spent. There was nothing she could gain from it anymore, or apparently ever could have. He urged her, "C'mon now, don't make me wait." She shook her head and replied with fire in her voice, "You bastard, you never did anything for me. You just took advantage of my position while I didn't know any better." She sounded like she meant it and in a steel voice told him, "This stops now." His facial expresion never changed. He didn't take her seriously at all, replying with a single short sentence. "You're only a probationary teacher." That short sentence was a veiled threat, but a clear one that made her blood chill. He couldn't deny her the opportunity to try, but he could make sure she didn't keep the job. "Get on your knees Debbie", he repeated. She was completely cornered. Her ethics were compromised and despite explaining it to everyone, it would look like she took deliberate shortcuts to advance her career. All she could do is hope he'd keep it quiet and put up with him until this nightmare was over and she was confirmed as a permanent teacher. Very reluctantly, she got down on her knees and waited unenthusiastically. She wanted to discourage him by her demeanor. He held his cock at the base and said "C'mon Debbie, suck it." She didn't move. She pretended like he wasn't there and her eyes fixed to an imaginary point a mile away. She couldn't look more uninterested if she tried. Mr. Combs flushed with anger and growled at her. "Oh, you're gonna be like that?" Before she thought to compose a reply, he grabbed her by the hair with one hand and pressed his fat cock hard against her lips. She kept them closed, so he forced himself into her mouth. He tugged on her hair and her lips reluctantly parted due to a stifled yelp. His fat meat slipped over her tongue, stopping at her parted teeth. He stuck it in a few inches, let go of his cock and then slapped her with his other hand. She was shocked. No one slapped her since she was 11. Before a single thought formed in her head, he stuck his cock back in her mouth and started fucking it. Finally showing what he really thought of her, he said "That's more like it, you little whore." He was a thick man, and he was hitting the back of her throat with no effort. He pulled out of her mouth and still holding her by the hair, slapped her cheek with his dick. She wanted to die from the humiliation. There was nothing she could do short of committing career suicide to make this stop. She still had bills, a mortgage, a car payment. She wanted this over as quickly as possible, so she decided to do the best job she could. Emptying her head of all thoughts, she replaced his hand with hers, lifted his cock up high and then licked the underside nice and slow. Surprised by her sudden willingness, he let go of her hair. She ran her warm tongue all the way up and down his shaft, from his balls to his head and made him moan. "Oh god, that's it, suck it Debbie." It felt like teasing for him, but she was more business-like about it. She was just lubricating it. She replaced her tongue with her lips, still running them back and forth under his cock. He moaned. Figuring she got a good momentum going, she slipped half of his big cock deep in her mouth and started sucking it, twisting her head side to side as she moved back and forth. She wanted to make him cum quick. "Damn, Miss. Debbie, that's good" he muttered and closed his eyes. She stroked his cock opposite of her mouth's movements. After a few minutes, she sucked it deeper. He grunted in pleasure. Then, she took it all the way in. It stretched her, but his cock managed to compress and fit deep in her throat. She could control her gag reflex for short periods. He groaned, and after a few deep sucks came in her mouth without a warning. Luckily, she had just barely pulled it out of her throat or she would have choked and gagged. She spit his cum out and and then got up, wiping her lips with her sleeve. His cum ran down her shirt. Mr. Combs zipped up and left her with a parting shot. "Maybe you'll watch your attitude from now on." She couldn't stop herself from reacting. Angry beyond control, she yelled "get out!", and pointed at the door indignantly. After he left, she sat down at her desk, burying herself in her hands. He was punishing her for confronting him. He wanted to degrade her. It felt like her life was spinning out of control. More she tried to shape things, more she got shaped by them. She just wanted to teach, to feel that respect of being looked up to. At home that night she drank three snifters of Grand Marnier in her bed. She felt so helpless. These days, the bottle was dangerously close to her. She had to get up early next morning. It was a Saturday and she was supposed to babysit delinquents at detention. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Supervising detention wasn't much work, but not very pleasant with a hangover. She put on jeans and a sweater and headed out. The school was completely empty, except for a custodian who opened and closed the building. Rest of his time, he hid somewhere and probably slept on the clock. Handful of students trickled into the classroom by 8, and she ignored them, focusing on her crossword. All she had to do was check their names against a roster at some point and make sure they were quiet. Halfway through her puzzle, she looked up and was surprised to see Clayton there. "Clay, what are you doing here?" she wondered out-loud. He was embarrassed and explained that he got into a fight. Nothing big, just a shoving match that was unfortunately witnessed by a coach. He'd been given three weeks of detention. She wondered if she could make it into six. Next Saturday, fighting herself the entire morning, she took the trouble of dressing up sexy. She was hoping Clay would recognize the white and black checkered skirt she flashed him in at her place. Seeing him in detention was a nice distraction, especially in a detention that she oversaw. The magnetic draw to him made her forget all about her real problems. He was handsome and smart and there was that loose promise of a strange and forbidden understanding between them. By 9:30, she got up and every five minutes whispered in ear of each student, releasing them early one by one. "You're a good kid, I'm sure you've learned your lesson. Why don't you go home and don't tell anyone. I'll put you down for the whole day of being in detention." That is, she whispered that to everyone but Clayton. She wanted him alone to herself. Soon, he had to ask. "Miss. Debbie, how come everyone else got to leave?" "Why, you don't like spending time with me?" she laughed. "No, that's not what I meant at all, I mean, ..." She interrupted him with a stifled laugh, "I'm just teasing you Clay." She was flirty and girly today. She got up from her chair, and sat on her desk facing him. "Well, they were good boys so I let them go. You, on the other hand, are a bad boy. You should stay here in detention with me." She smiled at him and crossed her legs. Only thing he could do was laugh it up and confess that yeah, he didn't deserve to go home. She let him read his book for awhile, and then started pacing around the classroom. She walked up behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders. Desks were separate from chairs and he was slouching away from his desk. "What are you reading Clay?", she wondered. He explained and paused when she started rubbing his shoulders and neck. "You feel really stiff", she observed. He leaned back and thanked her, "That feels so great Miss. Debbie." She leaned in closer and pressed her bosom against his back. She could hear him breathe out and suddenly felt the urge to see his crotch. His jacket was in the way, the one she bought for him, so she ran one hand down his chest to straighten it. He didn't react, or try to stop her. He just closed his eyes and breathed. He could smell her perfume and it looked like his dick was straining against his pants. "Can I ask you something Miss. Debbie?" She felt he was going to ask her something to bridge the gap between them. Her heart was beating fast in anticipation. Softly she said, "Sure, of course", inviting him to continue. He was mature, she was sure he could start a conversation inviting her to a next step. Toward what though? "Would it be all right if I also went home early from detention?" She froze in place. Is that all he cared about? Didn't he want to see her, didn't he enjoy watching her outfits, didn't he like her breasts pressing against his back? It angered her. Every man she dealt with was just a selfish prick, only interested in what they wanted. Why did she shave her legs over the weekend? Why did she wear this whorish outfit again? She took away her breasts and decided he didn't deserve them. With subdued anger she replied, "No Clay, that'd be completely inappropriate." Her tone and demeanor sounded like her developing disgust with the world. "You need to stay here until you've learned your lesson and learned how to behave. You obviously haven't yet, and you've forced me to recommend your detention be extended." She was so disappointed at his disinterest. His hopes of seeing a sunny morning gone, he protested, "But that's not fair, I didn't even do anything, I was pushed first. It's just the coach only saw me do it." She was disgusted with him and angry at herself for expecting anything else from a young man. "No, that's the last of that Clay. You need to learn your lesson." She walked away and focused on her crossword puzzle. Rest of the day went without conversation. That night, she was playing with her pussy in bed and imagining a different version of the day. In her fantasy, she told him no and then punished him for asking. She sat on his desk, spread her legs and he ate her pussy while she egged him on. She ran her fingers through his hair and guided his tongue to her clit. When he tried to quit, she slapped him. He had made her angry, and now she wanted to take her anger out on him. Or anyone. But him especially, because he was right within her clutches. She was going to make his Saturdays very unpleasant. Over the next few detentions, she made him copy sentences and again dismissed others before their time. She could tell Clayton was getting resentful and angry over the treatment, but he didn't want to triple his detention so he quietly obeyed. On the fifth weekend of detention, he kept spacing out and staring at the window. It was a beautiful day and he must have been thinking about being outdoors instead of being stuck there. She too was pissed that Mr. Combs made her supervise detention and thus they were both suffering. Noticing his distraction, she walked toward his desk and snapped her fingers at him. "Clay, pay attention to your work." He put up with so much over the weeks and now that set him off. He impulsively stood up and took a step toward her, "Miss. Debbie, why are you picking on me? I didn't do anything to deserve this." They were a foot apart, and she stammered "Why?" "Why...?" She just wanted to grab him and shake his neck until he saw reason. It was a genuine confrontation that almost turned physical and her adrenaline was pumping. She started saying, "Because..." and then without thinking, she reached over and grabbed his cheeks with her hands and kissed him. She pressed her big breasts and crotch into him and kissed him passionately. In that moment she felt absolute terror. She was pressing her lips against his, pressing her body against his, and she didn't know how he was going to react. She didn't even know why she was doing it. But then, he kissed her back and hugged her. Their tongues danced, and relieved, her hands started wandering. She moaned between kissing him and hissed rest of her sentence, "because you're a bad boy Clay and you need to be punished." All things considered, he was acting very shy so she guided his hands to her breasts. He enjoyed them very much. She could tell he was too shy to say anything, but the way his hands were exploring and learning her breasts revealed nothing but enthusiasm. Her hand drifted down to his crotch and fondled him through his pants. "What's this?" she asked and started rubbing it slowly up and down. "Nothing", he replied, being painfully shy. His cock was hard and he was enjoying being touched. It felt great to kiss him, he was so innocent and sweet, but she had to put a stop to this. This spontaneous event was quickly turning into real trouble, and detention was almost over. She broke the kiss off and suggested they both get back to work. He looked very confused and short-changed, but sat down and finished his sentences. Next Saturday, his last detention, they both eyeballed other students nervously, each wishing others were gone. Today, both of them behaved very guardedly. One by one, other students got released early by Debbie until it was just down to the two of them. Clay looked like he wanted to say something but he kept his mouth shut and just waited. Debbie also played coy. She didn't know what was going on here or how she let things progress to this state. Her heart started beating faster and faster, and she wanted to say something. Anything. Words wouldn't come to her mind. Finally, an earlier line came to her and its familiarity didn't sound so scary. She blurted it out. "Clay, would you mind helping me go pick up a bunch of records? It's off-campus." He turned red and nodded, muttering "Uh, yeah sure, of course Miss. Debbie." Quietly, they packed up their things and walked to her car. She started it and drove him to her trailer home. Her daughter was with her ex-husband this weekend so they'd have privacy there. This was so dangerous. What the hell was she doing? She felt crazy but incredibly turned on thinking about having her way with him. Between traffic lights, she reached over and fondled his crotch through his pants. He got hard as a rock in seconds. Within ten minutes, they pulled up to her home and walked to the front door without saying a word. She unlocked the door, grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. Her heart was beating so fast and she felt a shortness of breath.