613 lines
32 KiB
Plaintext
613 lines
32 KiB
Plaintext
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PET TEACHER
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(originally entitled "Depravities")
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By "Deva" and Parker
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It was late in the day - a typical southern-California hot
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Friday afternoon in late August - and I was straightening out my
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desk at the end of a long, tedious summer-school term. Teaching
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math to senior high school students was both trying and tiring.
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Teaching was, however, my profession of choice, so I really
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couldn't complain. And the extra money earned by 'volunteering' -
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I was the new teacher at Greenwood High, and as such was
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'encouraged' to so volunteer - to teach in the summer term was
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more or less irresistible. Still, here I was, 34 years old, with
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few prospects and no love life to speak of, spending my summer at
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work with a classroom of kids who would rather be anywhere but
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here.
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Just like me, I suppose.
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The classroom door opened quietly and Maggie Moore, one
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of my eighteen year-old students, came in and walked to the
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desk. Maggie was a pretty girl, tall and graceful, with a
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slender body, long legs, and a nice puffy chest that made all of
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the boy's eyes open. With her long blonde hair and dark tan, she
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was a typical California girl.
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Needless to say, I'd kept my eye on her all year. Having her
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in my summer-school class had been a happy surprise. Almost made
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the whole job worthwhile. It was a shame I'd had to fail her -
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she was bright, but just wouldn't apply herself. It was going to
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cost her an extra year at school.
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"Miss Brown, I have to talk to you," she began, shaking back
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her thick blonde hair as she strolled around to my side of the
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desk.
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"Of course," I replied, looking up at her as I sat in my
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chair. I was taller than her when I was standing, but right now
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she towered over me.
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I shivered. She was so beautiful.
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"I'm tired of it," she said.
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"Tired?" I didn't know what she meant. "Tired of what?"
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"Of everything." She gestured to the empty classroom; the
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school; the world. "Tired of being bossed around by adults who
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think they know all about what's best for me. Tired of being told
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what to do." She suddenly turned and slapped the palm of her hand
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down on my desk, making me jump. "Tired of being forced to go to
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fucking summer-school just because I can't multiply fractions or
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some stupid fucking thing like that."
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She paused in her tirade to look down on me as I sat there
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silently, frozen with surprise. "But mostly," she said, lowering
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her voice, "I'm tired of being pushed around by a bitch like
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you."
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That was quite enough!
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I started to stand up, but she grabbed my shoulder and
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pushed me back into the chair. She seemed to be much stronger
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than me, despite my extra size and weight; I was completely
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unable to resist. Stunned at being touched like this by a mere
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student, I just sat there and listened to her. There were other
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teachers in the building. I was sure one of them would wander by
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and help.
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"I know about you," she said, as if pronouncing sentence,
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"and I'm going to do something about it."
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"You know about... what?"
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She couldn't...
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But she did.
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Smirking, she leaned over and shoved her tanned face in
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mine. "I was up in LA last weekend visiting my old man."
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She *was* pronouncing sentence.
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"I know all about that store you like to visit; the stuff
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you like to read." My stomach churned as I watched my career - my
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life - go up in smoke. "I even know what books and magazines you
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bought on your last trip." Oh god! "Quite the little collector,
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aren't we?"
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"Maggie..."
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"Turns out the guy who works the counter is a friend of my
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dad's. I hear tell you're their best customer."
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I had to get out of there! No one had ever found out about
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my 'shopping trips'; about my secret fantasies. And now... a
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student!!! Panicking, I started to get out of my seat, pushing
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her away, but before I could break free, I felt a hard slap
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across my face. Despite my fear, I was infuriated - how dare this
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youngster strike me!
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"I've been waiting for this chance for weeks," Maggie went
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on with authority, "Waiting for a chance to 'discuss' this with
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you, you bitch."
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I started to fight; to say something at least, but then I
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slumped back down. What could I do? She had the power to destroy
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my career, maybe even get me charged with some kind of crime or
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something. I felt the resistance seep out of me.
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"That's better," she smirked, straightening up as it became
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apparent that I was going to stay put. "Now, was there something
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you wanted to say?"
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Numbly, I shook my head. No.
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"Well I do." She sat down on the corner of my desk. "You're
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mine now. Thanks to you and those other asshole teachers, I have
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to spend an extra year here. You're going to make that year a
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hell of a lot more fun for me."
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I sat stiffly, listening as this young girl's words made my
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spirit weaker and weaker. I knew what she was talking about. A
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couple of years ago, a young girl named Stacy Richards at
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Greenwood had been the victim of some sort of blackmail; nothing
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that had been officially admitted of course, but everyone knew
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about it just the same. Rumour even had it that Dr. Grossman had
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been involved. At least before his heart attack. I didn't know
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too much about it, really. I hadn't been teaching here at the
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time, but the stories had a way of spreading.
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And I had thought about them a lot.
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Usually late at night.
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By myself.
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"I know what you are," Maggie continued strongly, breaking
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me away from my musings. "Don't try to tell me you're not going
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to like it."
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She knew.
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Just like that.
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I couldn't believe this was happening; that the truth was
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finally 'out', so to speak. All those years of travelling away
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from home to find my material. All those years of locking the
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stuff away, terrified that a friend or - the ultimate disaster -
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my mother would find it. And such a young girl; I was dumb with
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fear and anticipation. My deepest fears and most intense
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fantasies were coming true all at once. All the times I had
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dreamed of Stacy Richards... of *being* a Stacy Richards...
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"Pamela," she ordered quietly, now confident of being
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obeyed. "Stand up."
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What else could I do? I rose slowly, turning away from her
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as a deep flush of... of something spreading across my face and
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neck. I tried to hide my face behind my thick brown hair. My
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slavery - there was no other word for it; she *owned* me now -
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had begun.
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"I mean stand and face me," repeated Maggie, irritated."Keep
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your shoulders back, arms at your side, palms forward, and
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your feet together."
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I turned towards her and thrust out my ample breasts,
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rotated my soft palmed hands so the palms were forward, and
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locked my toes and heels.
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Maggie smiled at my attempts to obey. "That's satisfactory
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for the moment, but we will be doing something about your posture
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soon, won't we?"
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I mutely nodded my head as she inspected my rigid body. I
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assumed she liked what she saw - at 34, I still had a trim, fit
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body, with large well-formed breasts.
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"When I speak to you, Pamela, you will answer me as Miss
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Moore. Do you understand?" I felt my heart sink, but I had to
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obey. This eighteen year-old female had me and there was nothing
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I could do about it.
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"Yes, Miss Moore," I replied meekly, as a swell of sensation
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rose in my loins. Could she tell? I could feel myself flushing
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again.
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"I'm glad you're wearing this today," continued Maggie,
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indicating my white button-down blouse and blue flared mid-length
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skirt. "From now on it will be only skirts and dresses for you,
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with heels and stockings. No slacks and no pantyhose. Is that
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clear?"
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Once again I nodded my submission.
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She smirked. "Now that we have that clear Pamela, I want you
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to show me your pretty tits."
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I was undone. Here in the middle of my classroom, where
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anyone - teachers, students, even janitors - might see, ordered
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by a teenage martinet to display my breasts. My hands went
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unsteadily about the task.
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"Hurry," she gloated. "Are your tits as pretty as they look
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through your blouse Pamela?"
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"Yes, Miss Moore," I croaked. My hands began working faster.
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"Answer completely Pamela," she demanded.
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I was being taught the game well. "Yes, my breasts are
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pretty Miss Moore." I pulled my blouse free, unhooked my bra,
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and stood as I had been ordered, my firm, bouncing, hard-nippled
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breasts hanging free.
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Aching for attention.
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"Shoulders back, Pamela."
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Back they went and, of course, out they came.
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She ran her smooth hands under and around, squeezing and
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lifting, massaging the hardening, heaving mounds. I squirmed, but
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dared not break position.
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"Time to nip these nipples," she whispered in my ear, her
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breath warm on my skin. "First a little tease." She closed her
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thumb and forefinger on the flinty projections. "Then a very big
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tweeze." Her sharp fingernails bit in, causing a wave of pain to
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wash over me, closely followed by lust.
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God... please let no one see this.
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"Does that feel nice, Pammy?"
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"Yes, it feels nice Miss Moore." What could I say? It was
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the truth.
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"Are you wet, Pammy?"
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No! "Yes, I'm wet Miss Moore." The truth again.
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"But are your panties wet, Pammy?"
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"They feel wet, Miss Moore."
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"Slide them off, quickly Pammy."
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I almost died at the thought of standing half-naked in my
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own classroom, on display for anyone to see! But I obeyed,
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slipping out of my pink nylon briefs and holding them obediently
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in my hand. The crotch area was damp with aromatic juices.
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Maggie took them from me. Like the good little slave I had
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to be, I returned to my rigid, bare-breasted pose.
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"Very wet, Pammy. That's nice but very naughty and you
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will be spanked a bit... well, rather a lot. Later on."
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The word 'Spanked' shot through me like a jolt of
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electricity and I moaned just a little, my thighs moist.
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"For now, hold up your chin... higher."
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I raised my chin to the ceiling knowing for all the
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world what I must look like with my long neck stretched and
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my big tits, as Maggie would say, arching at attention. A trickle
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of sweat ran down the back of my neck under my hair as I held the
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position.
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"Open," she ordered. She reached up and her fingers worked
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their way between my pink lips, sliding across the gums and
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teeth of my widely opened mouth.
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"More," she insisted and caressed with thumb and forefinger
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both the front and back of my teeth, gums and tongue. Especially
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the tongue...
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slippery tongue...
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squirmy tongue...
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gripping it with those nails and pulling it all the way out.
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"Keep your mouth wide, Pammy. Wide... and when you are
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told to show your tongue, this is the pose you will assume. You
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will do quite a bit of tongue training over the next little
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while. Now, chin up... tongue out... further... straight, no
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curl... very cute."
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Maggie then laid the wet crotch of my panties over my tongue
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covering it from front to rear. Thinking that I knew my lessons
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well, I stood bare chested and bare bottomed, waiting. Maggie
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pressed my tongue and pants back into my mouth.
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"In. Close. Suck. Harder. Swallow your juices. Obey."
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I knew full well that I was being trained to obey. Hadn't I
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been reading about this sort of stuff all my life? Overwhelmed by
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humiliation, I began giving up my power - myself - feeling no
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loss. After five minutes of tasting and swallowing my essence
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for the first time, reality returned.
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"Put on your blouse Pamela, but just leave your bra and
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panties into your desk. We have this whole, wonderful last week
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of summer holiday left, and your lovely apartment in which to
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continue your obedience training. I want you completely trained
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by the time school starts. Come along now."
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I followed behind my young controller, very aware that
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my breasts were jiggling saucily, clearly visible under my
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half-buttoned blouse. (Another of Maggie's demands: "either
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half-buttoned, Pammy, or not buttoned at all".) I prayed no one
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would stop us in the hall or the parking lot. What could I say
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to anyone? That I was being taken in hand by a girl half my
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age to be taught total obedience? And more; was it happening
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willingly?
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I wasn't even sure if it was happening willingly. All I knew
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was that I had no choice.
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Fortunately we reached my car without incident. She
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indicated that I was to drive, but before I started, Maggie
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opened the remaining buttons of my blouse, folded it back, and
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pushed my skirt back to my hips. This assured anyone with the
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proper vantage point a clear view - according to Maggie - of my
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'hot tits' and 'slit'.
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That ride home was more than I care to remember. Once
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out of the parking lot my young mistress proceeded with her
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program of training and humiliation. Reaching down and adjusting
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my thighs so that they were well spread, she took a firm grip on
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my clit.
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"I'm just getting a quick measure of your little boy part. Do you love
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this, little Pamscunt? Hmmmm?" As she maneuvered her
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fingers the little boy part really did begin to stiffen to the
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occasion. What could I say? Only the truth.
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"Yes, I love it Miss Moore."
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"And so erect, so stalky, so rooty. Sit erect!"
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Sit erect - tits erect - nips erect - stalk erect - root
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erect - clit...
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Oh, Maggie!
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Whizzing down the street in a pool of my own making, waiting
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for more. What was I? And what was I becoming?
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Inevitably, the ride ended, and we arrived at my place. I
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lived in a ground floor apartment with a separate entrance. It
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was fairly private, but not so private that the walk from the car
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to the front door didn't seem to take forever. Standing before my
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apartment door, still half-undressed and trembling with lust, I
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turned my keys over to Maggie and realized that my life as I knew
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it until then was over. Things would never be the same. Maggie
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would effectively control me for this entire year, and after
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that... well, I doubted that she would give me up. And would I be
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able to give her up? A part of me felt like this was something I
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had been waiting for all my life. Another part was screaming in
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pain and humiliation.
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Not that it mattered what I thought. More of my power flowed
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from me as I handed over those keys. We entered my comfortable
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space, the door closing silently behind us.
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"Stand still."
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Good little submissives quickly learn to obey, and, of
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course, I was becoming a good little submissive. Perhaps I had
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been learning all my life. My feet came together, palms forward
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and shoulders back. Maggie pulled off my blouse and unzipped my
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skirt, which promptly fell down to my ankles. I stood for the
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first time completely nude in the presence of a mistress... my
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mistress... THE MISTRESS.
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More power loss.
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"Stand in that corner," she ordered, pointing to a nearby
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wall. Stepping out of the pile of clothes, I approached the
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appointed spot. "Press your nose into the corner. Hands on top
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of your head, tits forward, elbows back."
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Once I was in position, she turned her attention to the -
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my? - apartment. As I stared at the wall a few inches from my
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face, I got dizzy listening to Maggie move about from room to
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room, opening drawers and doors. Going through my possessions.
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Another form of violation.
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Finally she returned to the room.
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"Pamela," she ordered, "turn and come here."
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Obediently, I turned around and walked to the centre of the
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room, hands still on top of my head. I flushed with humiliation
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as I noticed how my breasts bounced as I walked. I wondered how
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I could still be embarrassed. Maybe I still had some sense of
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myself.
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No matter. Maggie would soon take care of that.
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"Stand properly and show me your tongue."
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Chin up, tongue out, shoulders back... I remembered.
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"More."
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I stuck it out as far as I could, straight, pink and moist. My 'girl's
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prick' as I soon was to hear it described by Maggie. Now she stood in front
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of me, ovaled her carmined lips and slid
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my stiff tongue into her warm mouth. She leaked her juiced into
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my mouth for long moments and then pulled away.
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"Swallow."
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My now lipstick-red tongue slipped back into my mouth. Swallowing -
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obeying; my remaining power disappeared. Forever?
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I was her's.
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"You are mine."
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The truth was out. There was no denying it. There was
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no resisting it.
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"I am yours, Miss Moore," I agreed, submissively and
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obediently, to this girl half my age. She raised a hand and
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gripped my hair, holding me fiercely. Another hand crushed a
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breast, pinching a nipple.
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"You are completely mine," she hissed. "Body... soul...
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mind. You have no will but my will." I trembled in her hands. It
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was just like in the stories.
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"Kiss me now," she hissed. "Passionately."
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I knew very little about kissing in general, less about
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kissing another woman, and even less about kissing a girl. I did
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my best, though. I presented myself like the good little
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submissive I was being trained to be, soft, timid and obedient,
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waiting only to be devoured by her open lips. Wilting, eyes
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closed, I surrendered myself to her probing tongue and rampant
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power.
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A series of sharp slaps across my burning cheeks brought me
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to a renewed sense of my position in this relationship.
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"Not much passion there," she sneered. "You'll have to learn
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to do better than that, little one. You have to be trained to
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give a lot more head if you want to play kissy face with me,
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Pammy."
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All I could do was stand there totally naked, trembling and
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panting, frustrated at my inability to please my young mistress.
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What did she want? This was so hard!
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Had it been like this for Stacy?
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Maggie knew what to do. "I am going to start teaching you
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how to be responsive now, little Pammy. First, I am going to
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subdue some of that cute body to put you in the proper frame of
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mind. Won't you like that, little girl?"
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"Yes, I will like what you do." She glared at me. "Miss
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Moore," I added quickly.
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"Sweet."
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She removed, from what I had assumed was an overnight bag, a
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pair of shiny steel handcuffs, and fixed them to my wrists. The
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steel felt cold and hard against my skin, and it pinched as she
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clicked it shut. "Oww..."
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The pain cut through the haze of erotic feeling in which I
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had been wrapped. I didn't like it.
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She grinned as I winced. "We are going to clean that little
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body of yours right now," she continued. "I like my submissives
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spotless, smooth and shiny from head to toe, squeaky clean
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everywhere - every nook and cranny. And once you're as I want
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you, that's how you stay." She smirked. "Spotless inside and
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out."
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Her words sent another shiver through my body. Pain
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forgotten, I submissively followed her into the bathroom, where
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she began work in earnest. "Into the shower now, little cunt. You are my
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little cunt, aren't you? Even if I can't see it very
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clearly through that forest." She tugged at my cunt hair. "Oh
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well, we'll fix that in a moment."
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Then she paused, as if remembering something. "Well...
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aren't you my little cunt?"
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Through my confusion and humiliation I murmured "Yes Miss
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Moore, I am your little c-cunt". I flushed at having to say the
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'C-word'.
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"Again... just the end."
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"Little cunt?"
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"Again."
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"Little cunt."
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Satisfied - for the moment at least - she began running the
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water in the shower. "Now, into the shower. But first I want you
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in these nice heels." I was forced into some silly shoes I had
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purchased years before - all bright red plastic, with
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ridiculously high heels and tight, thin traps. In these shoes, I
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towered over Maggie as I stepped into the shower stall.
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"Why, what a big little girl you are in your red shoes," she
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laughed as the lukewarm water soaked my body. "And you won't be
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taking those lovelies off for a long time... if ever."
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I swayed back and forth in the shower stall, afraid I'd slip
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and fall off those stilts. My hands were raised and hooked over
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the shower nozzle by way of the handcuffs. I sputtered as the
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water slapped into my face and ran down my body. I could easily
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have pulled the handcuffs off at any time, but I knew that I
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would be severely punished for this. I twisted under the spray as
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the water gradually became hotter.
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There was a sudden flash. I tried to turn, but the water was
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in my eyes. By the time I shook it out, Maggie - Miss Moore - had
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disrobed and was joining me in the shower, enjoying my
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consternation at my first sight of her naked body. She was even
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more beautiful than I had imagined. Water poured down over us as
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she began to scrub me clean. She ran a sponge down my back, over
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my buttocks, into my 'tight little ass crack', down my legs...
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It felt so good! I was beginning to relax and enjoy things.
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I turned to face her, planning to tell her so, when she suddenly
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slapped my face.
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"Eyes closed," she ordered. "No looking. From now on you
|
|
may no longer touch or look without my permission." I froze in
|
|
position, eyes held tightly closed. Once again, the sexuality of
|
|
the situation had been dispelled by the sudden pain.
|
|
I was so confused. Isn't this what I had been dreaming about
|
|
all these years?
|
|
"Now lets work on your sex flesh." Miss Moore - Maggie - was
|
|
all business. "Underarms, too much stubble... tsk, tsk. But these
|
|
big girl tits are something, Pammy. Pinchable... nippable...
|
|
scrunchable... and more."
|
|
The demonstration on my breasts left me once again
|
|
breathless and trembling, a condition Maggie did not fail to
|
|
notice.
|
|
"What do we have here, Pamsy? Stiffy nips?"
|
|
"Yes, Miss Moore, I have erect nipples." My eyes were still
|
|
closed as I spoke. My mistress had not given me permission to
|
|
open them.
|
|
"Not right, Pamsy. You are Pamsy, my little stiffy
|
|
nips cunt. Say it."
|
|
"I am Pamsy, your little stiffy nips cunt."
|
|
"Five time nicely and with feeling."
|
|
I obeyed. By the last repetition, I was on the verge of an
|
|
orgasm.
|
|
"Very nice, Pamstits, and remember these lessons forever."
|
|
Dripping wet (in more ways than one), I was led out of the
|
|
shower, not too unpleasantly I might say, by those erect... those
|
|
'stiffy nips' and was told to sit on a stool. My eyes were open
|
|
now, but I kept them cast downwards, anxious to avoid my
|
|
mistress's anger.
|
|
"This is too much hair," she announced, running her fingers
|
|
through my thick, shoulder-length hair. "It will have to go from
|
|
head to toe."
|
|
She walked into the kitchen and returned with a pair of
|
|
scissors. "Now, this stringy shit-brown stuff is first. Too warm
|
|
for the summer really and I may want you as my boyfriend
|
|
sometime. Could you be a boy, Pansy? Let's see..." She cupped
|
|
one of my large breasts, teasing... weighing. "Guess not... but
|
|
that's alright too."
|
|
Hair began to fall everywhere. My hair! Tears gushed out of
|
|
my closed eyes but to no avail. Soon she was done, standing back
|
|
to admire her work. "Now isn't that sweet... put you into a shirt
|
|
and tie, flatten those big girl udders and you make a smooth
|
|
cheeked young boy. Well, I am getting ahead of myself. There's
|
|
plenty of time for that, isn't there?"
|
|
She moved in to continue her work. "This curly stuff goes
|
|
next. Lay back, raise your arms, and spread your legs. Wider.
|
|
You certainly know how to spread, don't you, Pammy... hmmmm...
|
|
that's much better." She began to cut. "This is the last time
|
|
that I will be doing this for you, bitch. From now on you will
|
|
keep yourself as I make you today. Do you understand?"
|
|
Eyes squeezed tearfully shut, I nodded. I was unable to
|
|
speak.
|
|
"Zip-zip, under the arms - no young man here anymore. And
|
|
what do we have down here? Are you hiding a little tennis ball,
|
|
Pamsy? There... why, Pamslit, you have hardly any lips on that
|
|
little big girl cunt. Just a lovely crack running all the way
|
|
around. And speaking of around, roll over on the seat... bottom
|
|
way up."
|
|
There I was, laying over a stool in my own bathroom, shaved
|
|
everywhere, legs apart, bottom high in the air. The last of my
|
|
womanness gone... Except for my large breasts hanging free over
|
|
the edge of the stool, I was a little girl again.
|
|
I thought she had finished, but the cleaning was only about
|
|
to begin again, this time in earnest.
|
|
"My, this pink, wrinkly bud looks as if it needs attention."
|
|
She fingered my exposed anus as I squirmed on the stool. "Now,
|
|
Pamsy, you know that I want you clean. I'm going to make you
|
|
slippery right here - doesn't that feel good? Of course it does.
|
|
Are you wet, bitch? Of course you are. Now, this is going to
|
|
clean you out - squeaky clean. Relax."
|
|
Relax!
|
|
This was the first time that... the first thing... the first
|
|
nozzle ever to enter my anus (my 'tight little girlie bung',
|
|
according to Maggie). So slippery and slidey and foreign and
|
|
stiff and smooth and hot and annoying and persistent and HOT, oh,
|
|
so HOT!
|
|
My perception of what was happening around me began to get
|
|
hazy. A swish of warm syrupy water... wiggle it around, "bitch...
|
|
more." My belly is full, liquidly pregnant, release...
|
|
release... "no, no, Pammy." Nozzle out... some kind of plug in
|
|
and I'm wild with the sensation, twisting and squirming... Flash!
|
|
who would have thought... down there. Stand up? Impossible...
|
|
"not impossible for a good girl..." nothing's impossible for a
|
|
good girl. Sit on the pottie... Flash! finally... not yet... the
|
|
plug holds fast. Another nozzle. More squeaky clean... up
|
|
front... up... up. Swish and swish... and I am wild. The plug is
|
|
pulled and there I was, Pamela Brown, lying back, eyes shut,
|
|
hands cuffed above my head, legs spread wide... Flash! screaming
|
|
out a magnificent orgasm... having my first asshole cum!
|
|
When I regained control of my senses, Maggie was standing
|
|
over me with a large grin on her face. "That looked like fun,"
|
|
she smirked. I looked up at her and started to say something, but
|
|
she slapped me across the face before I could speak.
|
|
"You bitch!" she almost screamed. "I've told you: don't look
|
|
at me without permission." Her face was red with anger. "I'm
|
|
going to have to teach you a lesson you'll never forget."
|
|
I cast my eyes downward and tried to babble out an apology,
|
|
but it was too late for that. She grabbed me by what was left of
|
|
my hair, dragged me through the bedroom and into the kitchen.
|
|
Oh god! People could see in the kitchen window.
|
|
I tried to say something, but just then, Maggie yanked open
|
|
my jaw and shoved an apple hard into my mouth. I automatically
|
|
bit into it, leaving my mouth trapped open, like some sort of
|
|
stuck pig.
|
|
"Get over there," she screamed, slamming me into the kitchen
|
|
table. The breath was knocked from my body as I doubled over in
|
|
pain. The bitch grabbed the handcuffs and hooked them over a bolt
|
|
underneath the table on the other side from me. I was now bent
|
|
over my own kitchen table, hands fastened securely, struggling to
|
|
catch my breath against the pain in my stomach.
|
|
That was nothing.
|
|
Maggie left the room and came back a few seconds later with
|
|
her overnight bag. I struggled to see what was happening, but
|
|
couldn't get my face around.
|
|
"Here's another little visitor for your ass, Pam-hole," she
|
|
said. I squirmed as I felt the head of something at my anus, but
|
|
it was no use. With one quick shove, the dildo - I assume it was
|
|
a dildo; it felt like a baseball bat - was reamed into me up to
|
|
the hilt.
|
|
The pain was unbelievable! I would have shattered the
|
|
windows with my screams if not for the apple in my mouth. I
|
|
bucked and moaned on the table, but couldn't get loose.
|
|
Maggie just laughed, running her hands up and down my body.
|
|
"Feels good, doesn't it little Pamscunt?" I shook my head, eyes
|
|
wide with pain. It didn't feel good. There was no eroticism; none
|
|
of the delicious thrill of submission I had felt earlier -
|
|
nothing of my fantasies here.
|
|
This was torture, pure and simple.
|
|
And it got worse.
|
|
She pulled something else from her bag. Once again, I was
|
|
unable to see what it was, but it didn't matter. I soon felt it:
|
|
it was some kind of large paddle. With a laugh of pure malice,
|
|
she began to administer a vigorous thrashing up and down my ass
|
|
and lower legs. I wouldn't have believed it, but the pain got
|
|
worse. The thing in my ass felt like it was about the burst while
|
|
the beating left my ass on fire with pain. I don't know how long
|
|
she kept it up, but when she was done I was limp and sweat-soaked
|
|
with pain.
|
|
Eventually, she pulled the dildo out of my ass with a loud
|
|
popping sound and unfastened the handcuffs. I slumped to the
|
|
floor, trembling and panting. The bitch reached down - a big
|
|
smile on her ugly face - and patted me on the head.
|
|
"There now," she cooed, "You'll get used to it in a while."
|
|
No.
|
|
I shook my head. "Enough."
|
|
"What?"
|
|
She looked amused.
|
|
"Enough." I struggled to my feet. Despite the pain, I could
|
|
feel my power slowly coming back to me. "You can't do this to me
|
|
anymore. Your blackmail about the books doesn't matter. No one
|
|
will believe you. And if they do, I'll just tell them about how
|
|
you used the information to torture me." I looked her in the eye.
|
|
I would never have imagined how much power there was in the
|
|
simple ability to look at someone. "You'll be the one in trouble,
|
|
not me."
|
|
"But Pammy," she countered in mock surprise. "I thought you
|
|
liked it."
|
|
"Maybe parts of it," I answered truthfully, "but no one will
|
|
believe that." I gestured to my ass and upper legs. They were
|
|
black and blue from the thrashing. "Especially when I get a
|
|
doctor to look at these." I was beginning to feel better already.
|
|
"Maybe I'll just press charges anyway."
|
|
She didn't seem worried.
|
|
"Before you do anything stupid," she said, "take a look at
|
|
these." She pulled some photographs from her pocket, holding them
|
|
up so I could see, but not handing them over.
|
|
I felt the confidence - the power - rush from my body. It
|
|
was all there: me in the shower, eyes closed and lips parted; me
|
|
bent over a stool with the nozzle in my ass; me reaching down to
|
|
massage my pussy, obviously enjoying myself; me on the toilet,
|
|
obviously in the throes of lust; me on the toilet...
|
|
There is was. No one seeing those pictures would ever
|
|
believe that my participation hadn't been willing. There was
|
|
nothing I could do. She owned me. I cast my eyes downward,
|
|
contemplating the school year that yawned ahead of my like a
|
|
chasm.
|
|
Had it been like this for Stacy?
|
|
"There there, little Pammy," she mocked me. "It's not so
|
|
bad. You'll get used to it." She brought her bare hand down hard
|
|
on my bruised ass.
|
|
"In time."
|
|
The worst thing about it was that she was right. I already
|
|
liked being dominated by her: the shame and humiliation. By the
|
|
end of the year, I'd be nothing but a slut - a lust-bitch -
|
|
craving pain and humiliation.
|
|
And I'd get it too.
|
|
|
|
A couple hours later.
|
|
I was dressed again, this time in clothing that Miss Moore
|
|
had pulled from her bag. I'm wearing a tight, black leather mini-
|
|
skirt that barely hides the bruises from my spanking and a cut-
|
|
off shirt that leaves my midriff bare. The red shoes are still
|
|
on. She has combed back my newly-shortened hair, and I look years
|
|
younger.
|
|
My mistress is waiting at the door as I walk over, eyes cast
|
|
downward. Already, I am getting more used to walking on the high
|
|
heels.
|
|
"Come along little Pamscunt." She gestures for me to precede
|
|
her out the door.
|
|
She's taking me out to show me to a few of her friends.
|
|
Apparently, I'm going to be meeting some of my students a bit
|
|
early this year. And, inevitably - against my will - a small
|
|
shiver of pleasure emanates out from my... my cunt.
|
|
I'll get used to it.
|
|
|
|
THE END
|
|
|