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   Disclaimer update January 2019

   Disclaimer stuff: This story and all the stories I write are a work of
fiction.  Each and every story line comes from my imagination, from a world
that I have built in my head.  By reading my story lines you are taking a
peek into my imagination.

   Any characters, places, businesses and/or circumstances etc.  described
herein are entirely fictional and are a product of my imagination.  None of
the following is based on real organisms or organizations, and any
semblance to anyone or anything real, living, deceased or imaginary, is
purely coincidental.  There is no place called Cherish Valley in the United
States that I am aware of.

   Every story I write contains sexual situations between adult females and
young girls and boys between 5 and 16 years old.  These stories should not
be read by anyone who is either not old enough to do so or who would be
offended if they did.  Most if not all of the stories I write contains
explicit pornographic material; it is not for minors under the age of 18 or
close-minded people.



   I write stories for my own enjoyment.  I write stories in which adult
women are degraded, humiliated, and fucked by young girls and boys,
although I have changed things up a bit recently with a couple stories that
aren't exclusively lesbian in nature.  Bottom line is I write stories for
my own enjoyment.

   If this story seems to be better edited that is because I have a
wonderful male editor who adds just the right amount of "filth" as he puts
it into the story line.  If there are any mistakes in the story as far as
grammar or punctuation, then it is my error and not his.  Thanks "A",
you're wonderful and patient with me.



   Anyone who is an adult or age of majority, of course, is welcome to
continue.

   I have several stories on Storiesonline.net and several readers have
contacted me there.  If you send me a message from Storiesonline.net it
will send an email notice to my email.  The anonymous message feature on
Storiesonline.net protects your email address and my email address.

   I hope you enjoy the story.
Monday:
Randy had already left the house as Leslie took a shower.  `That pig!'
She thought and giggled to herself: never in a million years would she have
ever thought she would call her husband a pig.  She had always believed
that God had brought them together, made them whole, but now she was

questioning God and her precious religion.

   She shook her head to rid her mind of the negative thoughts and hoped
that today and the coming week wouldn't be as intense as it was last week.
Without thinking about it she started touching herself, cupping her breasts
and softly tweaking her nipples, running her hand slowly down her stomach
and gently rubbing soap over her tingling cunt as the memories flooded
back. She smiled, not simply because her fingers felt so good, but because,
secretly, she enjoyed what happened to her at the hands and mouths of the
pre-teen girls, touching her, mauling her, fucking her.  Despite the
humiliation and the demands of her faith, she knew that it secretly excited
her and gave her orgasms better that she had ever experienced.

   With an effort of will, she removed her hand from her cunt: that would
have to wait.  She dried herself off and put on her `school uniform' as she
had come to think of it, inspecting herself in the mirror.  Just a week
ago, she had felt so shocked, so humiliated by what she had been made to
wear but now dressing like a whore sent a tingle of excitement through her.
She had even purchased additional blouses and mini-skirt's on Saturday in
order to extend her wardrobe.

   She walked out the front door and set off on her way to the school.  As
she drove, she thought back to the unusual events of Saturday and a sense
of confusion and shame overcame her.  On Saturday morning Randy had walked
naked out of the bathroom after his shower, his cock stiff and slightly
swinging back and forth, it wasn't that big or long, sort of stubby.  Her
eyes had been drawn to the swollen purple head and the engorged blood
vessels on the shaft and she wondered what had got him hard, remembering
how it felt sliding into her.  She felt her cunt moisten and remembered
when they were first dating what he had told her about women who sucked
cocks: they were whores and loose women and had no morals, he had said. 
What decent God fearing woman would put such a nasty thing in her mouth? 
The seed that ejaculated from a cock was sacred, it belonged to God, it
wasn't meant to be wasted.  The male sperm, he had told her, was meant for
the woman's womb.  Of course she believed him as she believed everything he
told her back then.  As a result, she had never learned to suck cock, well,
until the plastic ones from last Thursday, but not a real one.  Now as she
looked at her husband standing at the foot of the bed, she had wondered how
it would feel to take that stubby cock into her mouth to feel it shoot cum
into her mouth.
She forced her attention back to what he was saying and realised that he
was reminding her that she and about a dozen women of the church had a
protest lined up at the local 3D image theater where a new 3D movie called

"Adorable Lovers", released by `Lesbian Films' was to be screened.

   The movie had attracted a lot of attention.  It was about two ten
year-old girls who enter puberty at the same time and realize that they are
attracted to each other.  The neighborhood they live in and the church they
attend look down upon gay relationships; the youth groups at the church
held weekly meetings denouncing gay marriage, gay lovers, and anything
having to do with homosexual relationships.  It is within this environment
that the two girls manage to secretly fall in love, have their first kiss
while on a youth group outing, and lose their virginity to each other's
probing fingers.

   The high point of the movie comes when their youth group leader, a
twelve year-old blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl, caught the girls having sex
in the woods behind the church: both were discovered nude and in the 69
position.  Family and friends denounced them in church.  Both girls were
ex-communicated from the church and were suspended from school.  The end of
the movie found the girls holding hands as they walked into the gated
neighborhood called "Lover's Lane", an exclusive lesbian community.

   The movie received critical acclaim and accolades for ten year-old
newcomer, Natasha Smart.  There was talk of an award for best supporting
actress for the veteran ten year-old, Amanda Gates and the pre-teen girl
who played the youth leader, Susan Walling from Mississippi, added an
ironic twist because she and her younger brother, ten year-old James, were
in a serious and committed emotional and physical relationship, such as it
is in the south.

   Leslie had sat on the bed listening to her husband, thinking about the
film and suddenly she hadn't wanted to participate in the protest.  After
the week she had teaching pre-teen girls about sex, she had secretly wanted
to see the movie but of course, Randy would forbid it and instead there she
ended up, holding a sign proclaiming that God was against lesbians. 
Wearing earth tone clothes with brown pumps as they walked in a circle in
front of the theater entrance, she and the other protesters had endured
verbal abuse and scorn from kids and their parents going to the see the
movie.  While she and the other women protested the movie, Leslie received
text messages from Alexandra, Roberta, Sharon, Sue, Samantha and Renee, the
girls from last week, calling her a two-faced hypocrite.  Leslie felt
distress at the text messages because she was only doing what was required
of her.  With all the restraint she could muster, she did not reply to the
texts although it hurt her deeply.

   Now, as she drove, Leslie remembered the lesbian acts she had been
subjected too last week and how secretly they had aroused her so much. 
Moments flashed through her mind: Sue fisting her while Miss Wolfe captured
it all on camera; Renee and Sam fucking her cunt and anus with strap-ons;
the heavenly taste of Susie's grinding cunt in the restroom; and above all,
the orgasms, the wonderful, body-shaking orgasms.  Even though it was
supposed to be in the name of education, she knew it was now more about her
own pleasure and surrender to evil.  Part of her felt ashamed of what she
had done but she found no easy answer in her faith anymore and she felt
that God had abandoned her.

   As she neared the school her thoughts wandered to yesterday at church
where Randy railed against lesbianism and the evil it caused.  There she
was in the front pew, by herself, as Randy fired up the congregation.  It
felt to Leslie that the back of her head was burning with the judgement of
people's eyes boring into her, or was she just being paranoid?  Would they
know?  Would the girls have gone home and told everyone that she had
participated in lesbian sex with a class full of preteen girls?  She didn't
know and she didn't dare look round, just sat alone in the pew.

   But now, as the school came into sight, she thought that the same people
she thought were judging her were also hypocrites: they also enjoyed
lesbian sex and forcing her to do their will.

   Leslie pulled into the school parking lot and got out of the car.  She
wore her stiletto's heels, white thigh stockings, a pink mini-skirt, no
panties, a tight white blouse that barely held her braless breasts in and
her hair in a pony tail.  As soon as she started walking from her car to
the school building the cat calls and whistles started.  She was
embarrassed, looking down at the ground as she walked, making sure to walk
just slow enough so that her mini-skirt did not flap up and down, exposing
her cunt and ass to the kids.

   As she walked past the gym, she was suddenly aware of somebody walking
beside her and she glanced across to see twelve year-old, seventh grader,
Susie: it was Susie and her cheerleader friends who had raped her in the
gym last week and Susie's cunt that had ground against her mouth on Friday.

   "Good morning, Mrs Gaye!" smiled Susie.

   "Good morning, Susie," Leslie said anxiously, trying not to draw
attention to herself.

   Susie got right to the point and made no attempt to quieten her voice.
"My cunt, Awesome, is looking for another date with your mouth."

   Leslie stopped and looked both ways making sure nobody was in hearing
distance.  "I can't this morning, I'm too busy," she almost whispered.

   "Oh, I didn't say this morning," Susie said and bounced up and down her
toes.

   Leslie blushed.

   "I was thinking more like this afternoon, like how we had a date last
Friday afternoon.  Awesome really loved how you dug your tongue way up
there." Her voice took on a teasing tone.  "I'm sure you can't have
forgotten that."

   Leslie looked around, then smiled at Susie and nodded.  How could she
have possibly forgotten: she could almost still taste the girl.

   "Good!  Meet me in the same bathroom again, say before the last period?"

   "Okay," Leslie said and smiled, the colour still glowing in her cheeks.
Fuck, she thought, how quickly she gave in.  She should have least said
tomorrow or something.  But then she got that familiar tingly sensation
below her stomach when she thought of pre-teen's cunt.  It was so smooth,
so wet, so red.  It had tasted so.....

   Remembering where she was, she resumed walking and her smile faded.

   "Why are you looking so down, Mrs Gaye?  Awesome is really looking
forward to it."

   "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind today and it's difficult to find
time for something like this at school."

   "Well, I was going to call you on Saturday so that we could meet in a
more relaxed place and you and Awesome could get to know each other better,
but then I saw you protesting outside that beautiful movie and I was very
disappointed.  Such a shame that you are two-faced, Mrs Gaye," Susie
frowned.

   Leslie felt a desperate need to explain.  "I didn't have much choice, my
husband made me do it, I didn't want to."

   "My parents tell me there are always choices," Susie said, the judgement
clear in her voice.  "Anyway, your husband is a fine one to be ranting
about sex: he isn't choosey," she said as she turned on her heel and walked
away.

   Leslie stood there shocked.  "Wait, what are talking about?" she cried.

   "Before the last period, Mrs Gaye." Susie called over her shoulder with
a wave.  Leslie wanted to chase after the girl but didn't want to seem
needy.

   Leslie started walking again.  After the initial shock of what Susie
just said she realised she wasn't really surprised that Randy might be
fucking around on her.  It explained why he never seemed interested in her
and, hell, she was fucking around on him with young kids, in the name of
education of course.  "I just hope he doesn't find out," Leslie muttered to
herself.

   As she entered the classroom she had more pressing matters to focus on,
namely her promise to Natalie.  She opened her purse and took out a clean,
neatly ironed and folded thong, the one that Natalie had given to her to
clean on Friday evening, and now she had to return it.  Looking at the
garment, she blushed, remembering burying her tongue in the preteen's anus
and how much it had excited her.  Even now it made her cunt slippery, but
she was also nervous as hell: she had to somehow explain to Miss Johnson
and then give it back to Natalie in front of the girl's home room class.

   The first bell rang for the students to be in the classroom but Miss
Johnson had not arrived and Leslie wondered what to do.  Without Miss
Johnson to give her instructions Leslie decided that she must return the
thong as ordered by the girl last Friday, but she also realised that if she
had got it wrong, Miss Johnson would punish her.  She shrugged her
shoulders as the second bell rang for the start of classes and walked out
into the corridor.

   The door to Mrs Hall's home room was shut but it had a window on the
upper half of the door so Leslie could look in.  There was Natalie sitting
at her desk.  She looked, so young, so innocent, but Leslie remembered the
little puckered hole, how her tongue lavished it with kisses and how
Natalie had moaned and giggled.  Leslie shook her head to clear the
thought, her heart pounding something fierce and with nervous hands she
knocked on the door and entered.

   Mrs Hall stopped talking as the whole sixth grade classroom looked at
Leslie standing there in her little girl outfit.

   "Yes?" Mrs Hall asked.  She and the whole class had a smile its
collective face.

   "Um, hello Mrs Hall, um, I am sorry to interrupt but I have something of
Natalie's that I promised to return to her."

   Everybody turned to look at Natalie who had the biggest smile of all.

   Leslie stood there, trying to hide the thong in her left hand, shuffling
her feet and staring at the floor in embarrassment as she waited for Mrs
Hall to reply.

   The teacher clasped her hands in front of herself, the hint of a smile
on her face.  "Okay, go ahead."

   Leslie smiled weakly at her and, her heart pounding in her chest, walked
to the front of the classroom and down the aisle to where Natalie was
sitting.

   "Here is, um, what you wanted," Leslie whispered, acutely aware of
everyone's eyes upon her.

   Natalie frowned.  "Now that's no way to greet me, Mrs Gaye," she said.
She sat up straight, her expression showing that she was going to have fun
with this.  "Greet me proper."

   Leslie looked questioningly at the eleven year-old, uncertain what to
do.

   Natalie shrugged her shoulders.  "Kneel next to me and say, `Good
morning Miss Natalie'."

   Mrs Hall and the class chuckled, settling back to enjoy the show.

   Leslie turned beet red but still stared at the ground.  What choice did
she have?

   Slowly she knelt next to Natalie and looked up at the child.  "Good
morning, Miss Natalie," she said quietly and then added in a whisper, "Here
is, um, what you asked me to bring."

   "Louder please, Mrs Gaye."

   Leslie cleared her throat.  "Good morning, Miss Natalie.  Here is.... 
what you wanted me to bring." Leslie held out the neatly folded thong,
trying to shield it from the class with her body like a guilty secret.

   "What is it?" the girl asked and Leslie's heart sank.

   "Your..., your thong, Miss," she said, trying to ignore the gasps of the
watching class.

   "And when did I give it to you?"

   "Um, last Friday evening, Miss." She felt humiliated and so embarrassed,
knowing without looking that the class and Mrs Hall were listening to her.
Fuck.

   "Did you wash it, iron it, and fold it.  Like I told you?"

   "Yes, Miss Natalie, see?" Leslie held the cloth higher up.

   "Hmm, yes you did, Mrs Gaye.  Very good.  For an adult female you follow
instructions very well."

   Leslie burned again as the class snickered.

   Natalie took the thong and placed it on her desk.  "You know what you
did for me last Friday was very nice.  I appreciated that."

   "Thank you, Miss."

   "Did you like doing that for me?"

   Leslie swallowed.  "Yes, Miss." Humiliated beyond belief.

   Natalie put her left hand on the top of Leslie's head and gave it a
couple of strokes.  "You are very well behaved, Mrs Gaye."

   "Thank you, Miss." What hell did that mean?  she wondered.  `I'm not
some sort of pet', except that as she thought it, she realised that she
was.

   Mrs Hall cleared her throat and Leslie started to get to her feet.

   "Where are you going, Mrs Gaye?" Natalie asked, her eyebrows raised.

   Leslie stopped and looked up at her in confusion.  "But Mrs Hall wants
to start your lesson and I am holding things up," she said uncertainly,
still on her knees.

   The girl reached out and stroked her head again.  "You don't have to
worry your pretty little head about things like that," she said, smiling.
Behind her, Leslie could hear some of the kids giggle.

   "Haven't you forgotten something?"

   Leslie looked at her uncomprehendingly.

   "The thong?" Natalie said, nodding her head towards her desk.

   Leslie looked at it, and then back to the girl.  "But I have returned it
to you as you asked me to," she stuttered.

   The girl chuckled.  "You have brought my thong back, but you haven't
returned it to where it belongs?" She paused but Leslie said nothing, just
stared her in confusion.  "Have you forgotten, Mrs Gaye?"

   Leslie nodded her head and looked at the floor, humiliated by the way
the girl seemed to be manipulating her.

   "On Friday night, in that washroom, you asked me if you could kiss my
anus." Natalie spoke like a teacher helping a slow pupil.  "You must
remember that?"

   Blushing furiously, Leslie nodded.  Fuck.

   "Before you could start French kissing my little brown hole, what did
you have to do first?"

   At last, Leslie realised where the girl's teasing was going.  "I had to
take off your thong panties," she said quietly as she stared at the floor.

   "So now...?" Natalie left the question hanging.

   "I have to put them back on you."

   "Well done Mrs Gaye."

   The girl stood up in front of Leslie and handed her the thong and Leslie
held it out for her to step into.  The fragrance of the girl's excited
crotch filled the air around Leslie as she slowly pulled them up Natalie's
slim legs and over her bottom onto her hips.  She hoped as she did so that
she might get a glimpse of the girl's peachy little cunt but the material
refused to cooperate.

   "Very good, Mrs Gaye," Natalie said, "but can you make sure that the
thong isn't twisted over my rosebud and between my legs?  It feels a little
uncomfortable."

   With trembling hands, Leslie traced the material between the girl's
buttocks and smoothed it over the puffy flesh of her cunt, wishing that she
could bend forward and nuzzle her mouth into the moist flesh.

   "Well, you can go now," Natalie announced, sitting back down at her
desk. "I hope to see you around sometime," the girl giggled, "and so does
my anus."

   Humiliated and aroused in equal measure, Leslie stood up, straightened
her short skirt, turned on her stiletto, walked to the front of the class,
past a smiling Mrs Hall and out of the door.  She tried to walk with some
dignity but she couldn't get out of there fast enough and she also realised
that the insides of her thighs were slippery.  Once outside the classroom
Leslie leaned up against the wall and took a deep breath, hearing as she
did so the classroom burst into laughter.  Fuck, she thought.

   Leslie hurried back to her classrooms find Miss Johnson sitting at the
desk, glaring at her.  Her stomach knotted up and her pussy tingled.  Fuck.

   "Where in the hell have you been?"

   "I, um, had to return a thong underwear to one of the students." Leslie
said as she stood in front the desk with her hands clasped in front of her.

   "And you didn't think to wait until I got here?"

   "No, Miss." Leslie looked at the desktop and not at Miss Johnson.  Fuck.

   "You know you are supposed to wait until I arrive before you do
anything?"

   "Yes, Miss."

   "So is punishment in order do you think?"

   "Yes, Miss, punishment is in order." Leslie's cunt instantly went moist
and her stomach tingled.  Fuck.

   "Well, that will have to wait for later today.  The art teacher is
waiting for you.  You are to stay with her through her three morning
periods of art class, then lunch, then you are to go to the gym for the
first afternoon period.  When that has finished, you come back here.  Have
you got that?"

   "Yes, Miss."

   Miss Johnson continued to glare at her.  "It goes without saying but I
will say it anyway.  Both teachers carry my authority so do what they say,
understood?"

   "Yes, Miss." Leslie answered with that sinking feeling: well this isn't
going to be good, she thought.

   "Scamper off then," Miss Johnson said, waving her hand dismissively.

   Leslie turned, picked up her bag with her gym stuff, exercise books,
lunch and went out the door and down the hallway to the art class.

   As she walked down the corridor she wondered what would happen during
the lessons.  Mrs Reed, the art teacher, was also the community outreach
director for the church, her job to reach out to families moving into the
city.  She was married but had no kids: her kids, she liked to say, were
her art students.  Obviously, with her husband being the preacher, Leslie
had met her but they didn't get along very well when it came to church
business: Leslie thought that Mrs Reed should do more outreach in the
downtown area and had mentioned this at a couple of church meetings.  That
put Mrs Reed on the spot with the church leadership and Mrs Reed sore
revenge.
Her heart pounding, Leslie knocked on the door of the classroom and

entered.

   "Oh, there you are, the kids have been anxiously waiting for you, Mrs
Gaye."

   There was a round platform in the middle of the classroom and the kids
had their desks arranged neatly around it.  Leslie noticed three sets of
metal clamps bolted to the platform.  She couldn't fathom what they would
be used for but her recent experiences led her to be wary.

   "Good morning, Mrs Reed," Leslie said, smiling weakly.

   Mrs Reed smiled in a friendly way and walked over to her.  "This is the
eighth grade pencil drawing class," she said brightly.  "The kids are going
to draw you as a live model, for their female art form assignment."

   Leslie nodded her head.  "Okay."

   "I would prefer you as a nude model for the class," Mrs Reed continued
to a background of chuckles and snickers, "but district rules on drawing
female nudes prevent full nudity in art class."

   `Thank goodness!' Leslie thought.

   Mrs Reed held out her fist, which was balled up.  "So, you will wear
this instead."

   Leslie looked at the art teacher but didn't move.  "Wear what?"

   Mrs Reed took Leslie's right hand and dropped what looked like a string
and some cloth in it.

   Leslie looked at what was in her hand.  It was three little pieces of
skin colored cloth with skin colored string attached.

   "What's this?" Leslie asked, genuinely confused.

   "Your costume for today." Mrs Reed smiled as she stepped back.

   "I, I, can't wear this," Leslie said, holding out the cloth as if it
might explode.  There were two tiny skin colored patches of cloth with
string and one flesh colored triangle, also with string.

   Mrs Reed cocked her head slightly to the left and raised eyebrows. 
"Really?  Would you like me to phone Miss Johnson and see what she says?"

   Leslie looked at the art teacher and then the classroom.  All the kids
were grinning at her.

   "Okay, okay," she sighed.  "There is no need to mention this to Miss
Johnson."

   "You can change over there," Mrs Reed pointed to a three panel folding
wall set up in the corner.

   Leslie walked over to the freestanding wall, realising that when she was
behind it, it only came to shoulder height and all the children were
looking at her.  There was something oddly humiliating about undressing
while they watched her face.

   "Oh, and keep your stiletto's and thigh stockings on, everything else
off," Mrs Reed called.

   Leslie nodded, her face beet red but her clit tingling.

   "Hurry along Mrs Gaye, we don't have all morning."

   Leslie unbuttoned her blouse and laid it over the panel.  She took what
was the cloth to cover her breasts and pulled the string over head and
adjusted the two nude small triangular patches over her nipples.  The
material barely covered her aureoles and her nipples immediately stood out.


   She dropped her mini skirt and stepped into the bottom half of the
costume.  The string went around her waist, the cloth triangle barely
covered her clit and cunt and there was a piece of string that ran from
under the cloth over her anus and attached to the string around her waist.
What was worse was that the fabric was so thin that it immediately mounded
to the profile of her cunt, so much so that she might as well have been
nude, district rules or not.  As she looked at her cunt she was reminded of
when she surfed the porn sites, this was known as a camel toe, an odd
description she thought at the time.  She looked up at the class, what
would happen when she got wet as she always seemed to do?  Fuck.

   She took a deep breath and stepped out from the panel in front of the
class and the kids and Mrs Reed sucked in their breaths.  Leslie was a
sight to behold.  Her breasts didn't sag, her nipples stood straight out
and it almost looked like there was nothing covering her cunt.

   Self-consciously Leslie clasped her hands in front of her, covering her
sex, hiding her embarrassment.

   "Hands at your sides." Mrs Reed ordered.  "Now come over here and step
on the platform."

   As Leslie stepped up onto it, she realised just how exposed she was: two
tiny triangles covered her nipples, a small thin square covered her cunt
and a thin piece of string covered her anus.  In front of the kids' staring
eyes, she blushed even more.

   "Oh, one other thing," Mrs Reed said matter-of-factly.  She walked over
to her desk, bent over and picked up the dunce cap that was on the floor
next to it.

   "Oh, no, come on," Leslie said as Mrs Reed walked over to her.

   Mrs Reed cocked her head again and her raised eyebrows were all Leslie
needed to give up on any objections.

   "Put this on," the art teacher said, handing the pointy cap to Leslie.
Around the base of the cap it read, "Mrs Gaye's Dunce Cap".

   "Very good, now for the position.  We thought a lot about this and I
think we will have you bend over at the waist, legs shoulder width apart,
put your hands on your knees and look straight out and smile."

   Leslie did as she was told and everyone laughed, pleased with the
effect. She could hardly be more exposed, not simply because of the ultra
brief clothing, but also because bending over at the waist with her legs
apart exposed the now moist cloth clinging to her cunt and had the affect
of spreading her ass cheeks.  She heard two girls behind her whisper to
each other.

   "Mrs Gaye has a very beautiful anus."

   "The anus is the best part of a woman."

   Mrs Reed walked over to the wall and flipped a switch causing the
platform to move very slowly around in a circle so that Leslie was on
display for the whole class.

   Once she was satisfied that everything was as she wanted it, Mrs Reed
told the class to get started, and for a while there was a busy quiet as
preteens began their drawings.  The teacher walked around the classroom
giving pointers.

   "You might want to emphasize her tits, Henry."

   Or

   "Very good Becky.  You're showing Mrs Gaye having fun."

   Or

   "Focus on her anus, Paula, but make sure you capture her smiling."

   Or

   "Very good, Bobby."

   The kids worked quietly, concentrating on portraying Leslie's nakedness
and the silence was only broken occasionally by pupil questions.

   One boy said he found it hard to see Mrs Gaye's anus and asked if he
could move onto the platform for a moment so he could draw it and Miss Reed
said he could.  Leslie heard him step up onto the platform and walk behind
her.  Because of her pose, she could not see him but she could feel his
breath on her buttocks.  She could also visualise what he was looking at
and much to her shame it aroused her: she could feel her nipples swelling
and her cunt starting to ooze cream.

   A little later, a girl put up her hand and when Miss Reed nodded at her,
asked, "Miss, I know Mrs Gaye is not supposed to show us her cunt, but I
can sort of see it.  Is it ok if I draw it?"

   Miss Reed frowned and walked over to her table.  "What do you mean, you
can `sort of' see it, Kirsty?"

   "Look Miss," the girl said and pointed at the platform.  Miss Reed
looked where she was pointing and then smiled and clapped her hands.

   "Class, your attention for a moment.  The school rules say that our
models cannot pose naked for us but have to wear what Mrs Gaye is wearing.
Kirsty has noticed that the material covering her pussy is a little damp
and has become almost see-through and so we can now see the shape of her
cunt more clearly."

   "Has she peed herself?" a boy called out and laughed.

   "Simon Armstrong!" Miss Reed cried.  "I am disappointed with you.  Mrs
Gaye is simply excited because everybody is looking at her and it has made
her pussy a little creamy.  I am really surprised that a boy of your age
does not know that."

   Simon blushed and hung his head and the teacher turned back to the
class. "Kirsty, that was well observed and yes, you can draw what you can
see.  The rest of you, pay particular attention to this as the model
rotates past you."

   Leslie felt the heat rising to her face again: it was one thing to have
to pose next to naked like this, but now she knew they would all be looking
at her damp g-string.  She wondered just how much the kids could see but
what was worse was that she couldn't help the exposure and humiliation
turning her on, so much so that it was growing more transparent by the
minute.

   The kids settled back to their drawing and slowly Leslie managed to get
on top of her arousal.  At long last, Mrs Reed walked over to her desk and
looked at her smart phone.  "Class is almost over, kids." She turned off
the platform and Leslie stood up, stretching her aching back and closing
her legs.

   Mrs Reed clapped her hands.  "Let's gather around Mrs Gaye for a class
picture, hurry the bell is about to ring."

   Leslie raised her eyebrows and looked at Mrs Reed who just smiled. 
"Please resume the position, Mrs Gaye."

   The kids were all smiles as they situated themselves around Leslie,
allowing their small hands to brush against her tits and her ass, or slide
between her creamy thighs and quickly finger her oozing slit.

   "Okay, smile, one-two-three," Mrs Reed said as she took several pictures
from different angles until the bell rang, ending class, and Leslie was
able to stand up straight, working her back muscles.

   "What do you say to Mrs Gaye, class?"

   "Thank you Mrs Gaye!" the kids said as they walked out the class.

   After the kids left Leslie asked, "Was that necessary with the pictures?
You know I could get in a lot of trouble if those got out."

   "You're a faculty adviser, not a teacher, so nobody cares, Mrs Gaye. 
Besides, these pictures are going in the art section of the year book."

   Leslie was about to protest but the second bell rang and the next class
filed into the classroom.

   The next class was different, the seventh grade sketch pad class.  Mrs
Reed waited for the kids to get over their excitement of seeing Leslie on
the platform and set about arranging her in the pose she had planned.  For
this class, she had Leslie get on her knees, put her head back, being
careful not have the dunce cap fall off her, open her mouth wide, then had
her clasp her hands in front of her, as in prayer.

   Mrs Reed squirted an off-white liquid on Leslie's cheeks, on and around
her lips and on her chin.  It had the effect of somebody cumming on her
face but Leslie didn't realize that at the time.  The class, however,
giggled knowingly and when Mrs Reed flipped the switch and platform slowly
turned, they laughed with delight.

   Leslie wasn't sure of her feelings about this class.  They were younger
which she found comforting and her modelling position seemed to her
somewhat blasphemous, it was less revealing: in a pose of prayer, her arms
covered her tits and her legs were closed.  However, it was difficult to
keep the silly dunce hat on and although she did her best to keep her mouth
open and swallow at the same time, she couldn't help but drool a little. 
As for the stuff that Mrs Reed squirted on her face, she had no idea: the
white ooze did was drip off her chin and onto her breasts.

   As in the previous lesson, Mrs Reed gave pointers to the kids as they
sketched and being younger, they tended to giggle and whisper more,
especially when the rotating platform brought her bottom into view.

   Just as before, near the end of class Mrs Reed had the kids gather
around Leslie in her kneeling position and took several more photos on her
smart phone.

   The class bell rang and the kids thanked Leslie as they walked out of
the classroom and again, for a moment she was able to relax.  Mrs Reed
threw her a hand towel and told her wipe her face off, walked over to her
desk and pulled out two things.

   "This next class is the sixth grade photography class," she said.  "Put
this on."

   Mrs Reed handed a dog collar to Leslie.  It was leather, encrusted with
little metal spikes and her name, "Mrs Gaye", was etched onto a small
silver disc that was attached to it.  Leslie blushed and faint objection
stirred in her but she thought better of saying anything.  She fixed the
collar around her neck and then took the matching leather leash that Mrs
Reed was now holding.

   "Attach this to the collar." Leslie did so.

   The first bell rang and a different set of preteens filed into the
classroom, clearly excited at seeing Leslie and Mrs Reed again waited for
them to settle down.

   "Okay, kids take your camera's out."

   The kids had been issued digital polaroid cameras to practice with and
they got them noisily out of their bags.

   "Make sure you adjust for lighting, distance and pixels, like we talked
about in the last lesson," Mrs Reed said and then turned to Leslie.  "Mrs
Gaye, get down on your hands and knees."

   Leslie frowned but did as she was ordered, being careful not to let the
dunce cap fall off her head.  As soon as she was kneeling on the platform,
Mrs Reed quickly fixed the metal clamps around Leslie's ankles and then
another pair just behind Leslie's knees.

   Leslie looked up at her anxiously.  "Uh, what's going on?" She asked.

   "Tsk, tsk, Mrs Gaye.  This is an art class and this is a form of art. 
Now be a good girl and eyes straight ahead." Mrs Reed then clamped the
metal clamps around Leslie's wrists.

   Leslie couldn't move: her tits were hanging down and her cunt and anus
were exposed.  She felt very vulnerable but also excited; her stomach
tingled and heart rate picked up.  She looked at the smiling kids in front
of her and knew that in a minute, the platform would rotate and they would
be able to see almost everything.

   Mrs Reed adjusted the leash over Leslie's right shoulder so that it
partially hung down in front with the rest of it resting on her back.  She
stood back and looked at Leslie, assessing the pose.

   "Hmm, something is missing," she mused.  "I know what it is." She walked
over to her desk, opened a bag and pulled out a pink velcro ball gag,
making the class laugh.  She stood in front of Leslie and said in a
sing-song voice, "Open wide, Mrs Gaye." Leslie obeyed and the teacher put
the pink ball in her mouth and secured strap around her neck.  She stood
back and nodded in approval.

   "That makes it," she announced.  "Okay, kids, Mrs Gaye is ready for you.
Eyes straight ahead, Mrs Gaye."

   The platform began to revolve and the kids got up from their desks and
walked around it clicking on their polaroids.  Leslie tried to take stock
of her position: she couldn't move; her nipples rubbed against the scraps
of material that covered her hanging tits; her cunt rested against the thin
wet cloth that barely covered it and the brown ring of her anus was
bisected only by a thin piece of string; she had a dog collar around her
neck, a dog leash attached to it and a pink ball gag in her mouth and in no
time, slobber was oozing out the side of the ball gag and down her chin. 
She should have been outraged, mortified, but the Leslie of a week ago had
changed and now some reason her cunt was tingly and moist.  She desperately
hoped nobody noticed, although if she was honest with herself, part of her
wanted them to look.

   "As the polaroid comes out from the camera, please stack them on your
desk." Miss Reed said, going around helping the children.  They jostled for
the best position around her as she rotated and she noticed most of the
jostling came from behind her.  Several kids came in for close-up pictures
and she felt hands and fingers brush against her tits and along her ass
crack.

   Eventually, Mrs Reed looked at her watch.  "Okay, kids, put your
polaroids down and line up over here.  I am going to take individual
pictures of you with Mrs Gaye."

   There was an excited clamour as the kids lined up.  "Calm down, class!"
she called and waited until she had their attention.  "Girls first." The
boys groaned with disappointment.  "Girls when I call you up, get up on the
platform, take hold of Mrs Gaye's leash and create a pose of your choice."

   "Like what?" a girl asked.

   "Any thing you want," smiled the art teacher.

   The first girl got up on the platform, took the leash, put her right
hand on her hip and smiled for the camera.  The second girl took the leash,
turned and looked down at Leslie, pointing her right index finger with a
stern look on her face.  The class laughed and Mrs Reed snapped several
pictures.  Leslie, unable to see what was going on because of her pose only
hoped the pictures weren't too humiliating.

   The next girl knelt next to Leslie, holding the leash in her right hand
and putting her left on top of her head as if she was petting her.

   One of the boys got a bright idea.  He went to his backpack, pulled out
a tootsie roll candy bar, broke it into several pieces and placed them on
the platform under Leslie's crotch.  The class burst into laughter and
Leslie blushed deeply, realising that she was somehow the cause.  When the
next girl got up, she took the leash in her right hand, looked over her
shoulder with mock surprise and put her left hand over her mouth.  Mrs Reed
laughed as she took several pictures from behind capturing the black pieces
of candy under Leslie's crotch.

   When it came to the boys, Mrs Reed had them kneel behind Leslie on their
right knee with their left left leg next to her left thigh, as if they were
going to fuck, and then put one hand on her waist with the other holding
the leash.  As Mrs Reed took the pictures the boys gleefully got into the
spirit of the pose and bumped and ground their crotches into Leslie's
exposed cunt.  Desperate to avoid the ultimate humiliation, she fought the
urge to cum each time an erect preteen cock ground against her, sometimes
pushing against her cunt hole, or most explosive of all, against her
swollen clit.

   "Okay," Mrs Reed called out, "the last pictures before the bell are for
me.  Here Billy, you take the pictures."

   "Yes, Miss," Billy replied enthusiastically.

   Mrs Reed knelt behind Leslie, took hold of the leash and pulled it back.
"Okay stand in front of us," she said, waving the kids in, "directly in
front, there you go.  Now on the count of three, Billy, I want to you take
the picture."

   "Okay, Mrs Reed." Billy held the smart phone up.

   "One," she paused, "Two," she paused again, "Three!" Just as she said
`three' Mrs Reed jammed the middle finger of her left hand into Leslie's
anus.  Billy snapped the picture just as Leslie's eyes got big and and
caught the surprised look on her face, and her cry of pain and pleasure was
lost amid the cheers of the kids.  Mrs Reed moved her waist in close to
Leslie's crotch so they couldn't see what was going on and continued to
wiggle her middle finger inside Leslie's anus as Billy walked around the
platform snapping pictures on the phone.  Then the bell rang.

   "Thank you, Billy, you can leave the phone on my desk.  What do you say
to Mrs Gaye, kids?"

   "Thank you, Mrs Gaye." they said as they filed out of the classroom for
lunch, unaware that the teacher's middle finger was still firmly embedded
in Leslie's rectum.

   "Maggie, can you please close the door on your way out?"

   "Sure, Mrs Reed."

   "Thank you Maggie."

   "Lunch time, Mrs Gaye," Mrs Reed cooed, wiggling her finger in a
circular motion.  Suddenly, she thrust her finger as deep as it would go
and leaning forward, whispered, "Before I let you go, I must warn you,
don't ever disagree with me during church meetings or outings, understand?"

   Leslie nodded, gasping desperately as she tried to fight the feeling
building up in her.  She was so close to cumming that she would have agree
to just about anything.

   "Because if you do, I will find you and ass fuck you within an inch of
your life."

   Leslie nodded again, slobber dripping down her chin.  She was so close.
If only she could move her hands, rub her cunt and feel...

   Mrs Reed removed her finger and stood up.  She walked around in front
Leslie, took ball gag out of her mouth and tossed it on the floor.  She
rubbed her middle finger under Leslie's nose.

   "Like the smell?" she asked and then slid the finger into Leslie's
mouth. "Suck on it like a baby girl," she demanded, moving the finger back
and forth and side to side.  Leslie sucked it obediently, wondering why for
the love of God something so horrible was making her clit throb with need.
After a few moments, Mrs Reed pulled it out and ran it under her nose. 
"Very good, Leslie, my finger is clean."

   Leslie looked away in humiliation as Mrs Reed undid the wrist cuffs. 
"Take the other cuffs off yourself."

   Leslie struggled with the cuffs but eventually figured them out and
stood up.  Her g-string felt clammy and the inside of her thighs were
slippery.  She could smell herself and blushed: if she could, then so could
everybody else.

   "Can I change clothes and clean myself?"

   "Whatever for?" smiled Mrs Reed as she tugged on Leslie's leash.  "You
are fine as you are.  Oh, wear your "I am stupid" hat and don't forget your
lunch."

   Leslie sighed, unable to assert herself, picked up the bag with her
lunch in, put the dunce cap on her head and followed Mrs Reed into the
hallway.  Because it was lunchtime, the corridor was thronged with kids,
most of whom cheered or laughed on seeing Leslie, virtually naked, being
lead down the hallway on a leash.  Almost immediately they crowded around
her and she felt hands touching her, squeezing her tits, slapping her ass
or sliding between her thighs and rubbing her already sensitive cunt.

   "Please, don't!" she pleaded trying to swat hands away.  "Please stop
it! Don't!  Ow that hurt!  Please don't pinch me!"

   Mrs Reed ignored what was happening, tugging on the leash and pulling
Leslie behind her until they walked into the cafeteria.  As the kids saw
what was happening, much to Leslie's mortification, an enormous cheer
erupted, some of them shouting, some making barking sounds and many
laughing.  Leslie wanted to run away and hide from the humiliation but she
couldn't because of the leash, and because she would never make it through
the crowd.

   Mrs Reed dropped the leash as she sat down at a table and looked up at
Leslie.  "Stand up on the table and eat your lunch."

   Leslie looked at the woman and gasped.  Did she have no idea of how
embarrassing that would be, how humiliating for her?  Once more, she wanted
to object but didn't have the courage and just sighed.  She opened her bag
and took out a sandwich then carefully climbed up on the table and started
eating, much to the delight of cafeteria.

   Carried away by the excitement, the kids starting yelling at Leslie to
"Take it off" or "Dance sexy" or "Give us a show".  One loud voice shouted,
"Only Christian whores would do that" while others started yelling, "Dunce,
dunce, dunce!"

   She had never felt so nervous or embarrassed in her life as she did
standing on the table.  She glanced down at Mrs Reed for some sign of
support or sympathy but received none, so she ate her sandwich, wearing her
dunce cap and her `string bikini', trying to look casual.

   As lunch came to an end, many of the kids filed by and threw a dollar on
the table.  The bell rang and Leslie climbed down, relieved at last to be
less conspicuous.  As she did so, two girls walked by and one of them
quickly pulled Leslie's waist string and tucked two dollars in.

   "Maybe you can give us a private dance sometime," she said and patted
Leslie on the bottom.

   Mrs Reed let go of the leash and began to walk away as Leslie gathered
the money from the table.  "You know where you're supposed to go next," she
said over her shoulder.

   Leslie nodded and looked anxiously at the hallway, which was filled with
kids again: she would have to brave the walk to the gym.

   She covered her breasts with the cap and used her right hand to fend off
the mauling hands of the kids.  At one point she was pushed against the
wall and somebody grabbed her pussy.  "Hey, stop that!" she said, feeling
fingers trying to push into her, but there were only chuckles and snickers
from the kids.

   When she eventually reached the gym, the coach was standing at the door
waiting for her.  "Ah, there you are Mrs Gaye," he said, looking her up and
down in a way that made her blush.  "A leash huh?  Never thought I would
see that on you." He smiled and took hold of the leash and led her inside.

   The boys were sitting on the bleachers but they all stood up quickly and
walked onto the gym floor, surrounding the gym teacher and Leslie.

   "So, what am I supposed to do exactly," Leslie asked anxiously.

   "Well," the gym teacher said, "how much do you know about physical
preparation for exercise?"

   Leslie's smiled, her confidence growing.  "I think I'm ok with that,"
she said.  "Over the weekend I found time to read up on stretching and the
importance of a proper warm-up for the lesson this afternoon."

   "Excellent!" the coach said.  "I want you to stand on that table over
there and demonstrate the exercises for us."

   It took a moment for his words to sink in before her anxiety returned
and her confidence began to drain away.  "W..What?" she stuttered, looking
over at the table in the middle of the gym floor.  "Come on...," she
pleaded, looking down at her bikini and then back at him.

   "Consider yourself lucky that there is no nudity allowed during school
hours," the coach said, smiling.  "What you're wearing is quite
satisfactory, so up you go."

   Leslie gasped and then let her shoulders slump: there was nothing she
could do; this had clearly all been planned and there was nothing she could
do to get out of it except run out of the classroom, and then she would
have to face Miss Johnson.

   The kids made way as she walked over to the table and sat down on the
edge of it.  Knowing how revealingly dressed she was, she carefully swung
her legs around, got on all fours and pushed herself up to a chorus of
cheers from the watching boys.

   "Put the dunce cap on," the coach instructed and she leaned forward to
pick it up.  Behind her she could hear gasps and a buzz of whispered
excitement and it was obvious why: `it is hard to be demure,' she thought,
`when all that covers your anus and your cunt it a narrow string and a
patch of thin damp cloth.' She picked up the cap from the table and put it
securely on her head.

   "Now what?" she asked, her voice flat, almost resentful.

   "Well, do some stretching," the gym teacher replied, grinning as he took
his smart phone out of his pocket "Show us what you have learned." She
noticed for the first time that the boys already had their phones out and
ready and gulped as she remembered the stretching exercises in the book she
had checked out.

   "Aren't they also going to participate in the stretching?"

   "Well, no Mrs Gaye.  The boys and I are going to take pictures and film
you as you stretch.  Then later we will review the film.  It will be during
the reviewing of the film that I hope to motivate the boys to participate
in more exercises."

   "Well, I'm not really sure about that," Leslie replied a little
uncomfortably.

   "There is no need to worry your pretty little head about that, Mrs
Gaye," the coach said cheerfully.  "Think of it this way.  Teams review
film of their opponents before next week's game.  It is during the
reviewing of the film that the players get motivated to perform.  This is
just like that."

   Leslie thought about if for a moment.  "Well, okay," she said, not
entirely convincingly, "but only if the film will be used like you said."

   The gym teacher nodded.  "It sure will Mrs Gaye.  You can rest assured
that it will be central to our exercise routine for years to come."

   Leslie looked down at the boys' eager faces: one or two of them were
looking at her face but the rest were looking at her body, undressing what
little there was to undress; small swellings grew in their shorts.  She
remembered how she felt the other night at the PTSA meeting when she
climbed up onto the stage, the way the lust took her, and she felt the same
thing now.  She saw the lust in their eyes and knew that she was just an
object for schoolboys to wank over, tits to squeeze and holes to finger and
even fuck.  She found herself wondering what one of those hard little cocks
would feel like sliding into her slippery cunt.

   And she was beginning to love it, humiliating herself, exposing herself,
being manipulated.  Her hard nipples rubbed against the thin material
covering, her clit swelled and throbbed, her cunt clenched and leaked that
slipperiness that felt so good.

   "Okay," she began, getting into position and trying to pull herself
together and concentrate, "this is the standing ass cheeks stretch." She
didn't like the name of this stretch nor the other names in the book but
there was nothing she could do about it.  "Stand tall with your feet
hip-width apart, knees slightly bent, arms by your sides.  Exhale as you
bend forward at the hips, lowering your head toward floor, while keeping
your head, neck and shoulders relaxed.  Wrap your arms around backs of your
legs and hold for one minute."

   The gym teacher and the boys walked around behind Leslie as she bent
over and she could clearly hear the snapping of camera phones.  She knew
what they were seeing, the crinkled ring of her asshole bisected by a piece
of string, like a target.  As she held the position, the string pressed
against her and her anus tingled.



   She stood up.  "Next is the breast stretch."

   "Tits stretch!" somebody yelled behind her.  "They're called tits!"

   Leslie ignored them.  "Standing tall with feet hip-width apart, extend
your right arm over your head.  Bend your right elbow and reach your right
hand to touch the top middle of your back.  Reach your left hand over your
head and grasp just below your right elbow.  Gently pull your right elbow
down stretching your breasts."

   "Tits!"

   "Then, repeat with your other arm." She tried to ignore the movement of
the class round in front of her and the flashing of cameras.  The fabric
over her breasts rubbed her swollen nipples, sending sensations to the
heart of her sex.

   Leslie laid down on her back on the table.  "This is the thigh and
crotch stretch."

   "Cunt!"

   "This exercise specifically stretches your thighs and crotch muscles."

   "Cunt!"

   The gym teacher and boys moved to the other side of the table.

   "Lie on your back with your feet flat on the floor." Cell phones started
clicking.  "Cross your left foot over your right thigh.  Lift your right
leg off the floor.  Grab onto the back of your right leg and gently pull it
toward your chest.  When you feel a comfortable stretch, hold there for 30
seconds.  Switch legs and repeat."

   Leslie could feel slipperiness on her thighs and wondered how
transparent her g-string was.  In front of her, the boys pushed and shoved
to get close-ups of her crotch and she found herself imagining them later,
their little cocks in their hands as they stared at the pictures.

   "This next one is the dog stretch."

   Several of the boys barked and all the spectators laughed.

   "We all sit and cross our legs, which can lead to tight hips and result
in lower-back pain.  This stretch directly target tights spots in the hips
and groin."

   The class shifted around and behind Leslie as she got on her hands and
knees and sucked in her breath: these next two were the most revealing
ones. If only her clit wasn't so swollen.

   "Start on all fours.  Slide your knees wider than shoulder-width apart."
Behind her, mobile phones clicked madly.  "Turn your toes out and rest the
inner edges of your feet flat on the floor.  Shift your hips back toward
your heels.  Move from your hands to your forearms to get a deeper stretch
and hold for 30 seconds."

   She did so and noticed a tense quiet had entered the classroom as the
boys filmed and continued to take pictures.

   "This next stretch is the butterfly stretch.  Sit with your back
straight on the floor with the soles of your feet together, knees bent out
to sides.  Hold onto your ankles or feet, engage your abs, and slowly lower
your body toward your feet as far as you can while pressing your knees
toward the floor.  Hold this stretch for 30 seconds."

   The gym teacher whistled softly as he came in for a closer shot of
Leslie's crotch and there was excited murmuring from the boys as they
jostled to copy him.

   "This next one is the lunging butt stretch," Leslie said, trying to move
things along, and for some reason the boys laughed.  The educator in her
wanted to say this was serious stuff but she realised that she had little
dignity left and moved on.  "Kneel on your left knee.  Place your right
foot flat on the floor in front of you, knee bent.  Lean forward,
stretching your left hip toward the floor.  Squeeze your butt and hold for
30 seconds then switch sides and repeat."

   As she demonstrated the exercise, each time she bent forward she could
smell her musk, so thick in the air around her that she could almost taste
it.  As she waited for the boys to finishing filming and taking pictures,
she realised with relief that there was just one last exercise.

   "Last stretch is the knee to breast," she said as she lay down on the
table.

   "Tits!" shouted a voice again and the gym teacher and boys moved around
to her front.

   "Lie on your back with both legs extended.  Pull your right knee into
your chest, while keeping the left leg straight and your lower back pressed
into the floor.  Hold for 30 seconds and repeat with the other leg."

   Once more the boys jostled to get the best shots as Leslie held the pose
until the coach told them to stop.

   "Very good, Mrs Gaye," he said, grinning.  "You have shown us a lot this
afternoon which we will be able to study carefully in the future." He
turned to the kids and cried, "What do you say to Mrs Gaye?"

   "Thank you, Mrs Gaye!" the boys yelled.

   Leslie smiled weakly and looked down at boys: they all had hard-ons and
with varying sizes of wet spots on their gym shorts; several of them had
their hands in their shorts, unable to wait until the lesson was properly
over.  Even the gym teacher was hard and he appeared to have the biggest
wet spot of all which he made no effort to hide.

   "Picture time!" he yelled.  "Mrs Gaye, please stand here."

   Leslie got off the table and stood in front of it.

   "Line up boys, no pushing or shoving, you'll all get your picture taken
with Mrs Gaye."

   Each boy took hold of Leslie's leash and smiled as Leslie stood next to
him with her left arm around his shoulder and a smile on her face.  Her
nipples were straining against the two thin pieces of cloth and the
triangle piece of cloth covering her cunt was damp.  The coach took
close-ups of her and each boy and full body pictures and she wondered what
the pictures would look like with wet spots on their gym shorts.

   When the last boy had finished the coach yelled, "Off to the showers
boys!" and they stampeded out of the gym.

   "So I can go now?" Leslie asked, pleased that the last of today's task
was finished.

   "Oh no, Mrs Gaye," the coach replied as he put smart phone away.  "We, I
mean you, need to go make sure the boys all take a shower.  It's all part
of health and safety, so go in the locker room and make sure they do."

   Leslie was about to say something but thought better of it.  Her cunt
spasmed at the thought of seeing pre-teen boys naked, something she had
never seen before.

   "Well, go on, then," the teacher said, grinning.

   Leslie walked slowly into the locker room unsure of what she might see.
The boys were laughing and talking and shouting but as they noticed her, it
grew silent.

   "My God!" thought Leslie.  The boys were all naked, their cocks, those
lovely cocks, were still standing at attention.  Unable to take her eyes
off them, she noticed they were of all shapes and sizes.  As the boys
turned towards her, it suddenly felt like all the cocks were staring at
her.

   Suddenly one boy started chanting.  "Mrs Gaye, Mrs Gaye, Mrs Gaye," and
soon the other boys took up the chant.

   Leslie's cunt clenched and another wet spot of its own showed up on the
little piece of cloth covering her slit.

   Despite her throbbing clit and tender nipples, she tried to remain
professional.  She shook her head and clapped her hands.  "Okay boys, into
the shower." She tried to sound authoritative but the boys just laughed at
her.  Two of the boys pushed her from behind towards the shower and soon
she was surrounded smiling pre-teen boys and their cocks, small hard
cylinders of hot flesh that were rubbing up against her.

   As Leslie stood in the entry way of the shower, jostled by the naked
boys, she looked over her shoulder at the gym teacher for help.  He was
standing in his office, his cock in his hand, and he was stroking it.  She
couldn't help but look at the size and shape of it, her eyes drawn to the
thick and meaty head, while he stared back at her, wanking, a wicked look
on his face.

   She looked back at the boys and saw the pure lust in their eyes.  They
looked like their dreams had come true, the beautiful Mrs Gaye standing
there just about naked herself, and now they were going to make all their
fantasies become real.  They strutted and pushed out their pelvises and
closed in on her, tugging at their hard dicks, leaking slippery fluid over
their hands.  Those same slippery hands started to reach out towards her,
trying to touch her, trying to rip off her flimsy bikini.

   For a moment, she was mesmerised, imagining herself sinking to the floor
as the preteens stripped her, fingered her, raped her.  The memory of a
porn film she had glimpsed flitted into her mind: a group of men
masturbating over a woman, covering with her with cum, and she wondered if
the boys were even old enough to produce sperm.  A hand brushed against her
thigh, and another grabbed at her breast, squeezing her nipple.  Something
hard and slippery slid between her ass cheeks.

   Suddenly she panicked.  What was she doing here?  What was she thinking
of?  How could she have let this happen?  She pushed her way through the
group of naked boys, quickly grabbed her bag and the dunce cap and made her
way out of the showers and into the relative safety of the corridor.  The
gym teacher came running out of his office and shouted after her, "Mrs
Gaye, wait!" but Leslie was having none of that.  She started to run
slowing only as she made her way down the hallway that lead to her
classroom.  She was panting and a feeling of relief washed over her, but as
she entered the classroom her heart sank.

   Miss Johnson looked up at her, then at the clock on the wall.  "Class
isn't over yet, what are you doing here?" Her voice was hard, unforgiving.

   Tears welled up in Leslie's eyes.  "I, I, just couldn't take it
anymore," she sobbed.

   "Take what?"

   "All those cocks, the wet patches, those boys staring at me and, and,
the gym teacher stroking his, his, cock leering at me." She held out her
hands, trying to get across the enormity off what had happened.

   "But you didn't finish the class," Miss Johnson repeated, ignoring the
gesture.

   "I know, it's just..."

   "No excuses Mrs Gaye.  You didn't follow my instructions did you?"

   "No." Leslie started crying.  She knew what was coming but strangely her
cunt spasmed and her stomach tingled.

   Miss Johnson opened the top drawer of the desk.  "I will give you a
choice.  Either you return to the gym and finish or I slap the underside of
your tits with this flexible ruler, ten strokes under each breast while
wearing a blindfold."

   Did she really crave punishment?  Her mind seemed to be trying to tell
her that it was all very unfair, and wrong, but it was her lust that was
really in control.  She slowly took the tiny pieces of cloth from her
breasts and tossed them aside.  Then she grabbed her nipples and pulled
them straight out while moving her arms up out of the way of the ruler. 
Wonderful sensations swept down her body to the top of her thighs.

   Miss Johnson got up from the desk and walked around to the front of
Leslie.  "Very well, after each slap you will say, 'I deserve this
punishment.  I am a bad girl.' Do you understand?".

   "Yes Miss," she whispered as Miss Johnson tied a blind fold around her
head.

   Miss Johnson took her time, making Leslie tingle with anticipation of
each slap, and after each one she repeated the line.  She had tears in her
eyes but she did not complain.  How could she: after spending the day in
heightened arousal, each slap brought her pain and a pleasure that made her
cunt ooze.

   Miss Johnson had just finished the tenth slap when the bell rang
releasing classes.

   "Stand in the corner until the next bell," Miss Johnson ordered.  "Then
crawl under my desk and wait for me."

   "Shall I change into my other clothes?"

   "Not right now," Miss Johnson replied as she walked out of the
classroom.

   Leslie stood in the corner facing the wall.  She heard snickering and
giggling from the doorway but she did not turn around.  The bell rang and
Leslie walked to the desk gently rubbing her breasts.  She moved the chair
out of the way and backed herself under it, then pulled the chair in close
to her and waited.

   After what seemed like forever Miss Johnson walked back into the
classroom, stopping at the desk and rolling the chair back.  Leslie could
only see her ankles but couldn't help but notice when a red thong dropped
to floor.  Leslie could see a glistening strip of moisture along the gusset
and gulped because she knew what was coming next.

   Miss Johnson sat down, scooted forward on the seat a little and rolled
the chair forward.

   "I hear that you have a very skilled tongue, Mrs Gaye."

   "Yes, Miss."

   "Good.  My cunt expects the same level of attention that you have shown
other cunts.  Understood?"

   "Yes, Miss."

   "And don't forget my anus.  My little brown hole enjoys being licked."

   "Yes, Miss."

   Miss Johnson spread her legs.  "Good.  Meet your new girlfriend."

   Leslie scooted forward just a little and put her head between Miss
Johnson's thighs and stuck her tongue out.

   "Very good," Miss Johnson said huskily and moaned.

   Leslie set to her task with an unexpected feeling of contentment.  After
the day she had had, she felt safe and cocooned between Miss Johnson's
thighs and the heady fragrance and musky taste of the woman's cunt excited
her.  She used every technique she had learned in her brief career as
school whore, and felt a thrill in her clit every time the woman moaned. 
She relished all the hot wet crevices and folds and the flavours of cunt
and asshole; at times she pushed and probed, her tongue firm and pointed;
at others she licked gently, teasing the inflamed flesh, skirting the
swollen clit.

   After ten minutes with Leslie's jaw aching and Miss Johnson squirming in
the chair, somebody opened the door and walked in.

   Leslie almost stopped what she was doing but Miss Johnson moved her hand
under the desk and held her head in place.

   "Hello, Mrs Wright," she said evenly.

   "Hello, Miss Johnson.  Is our new faculty adviser available?"

   "Um, she's working on her oral presentation skills."

   Leslie couldn't tell where Mrs Wright was in the room until she felt her
kick her ankle, either accidentally or on purpose.  `Well, whichever way,
the secret is out now,' she thought.  `She must realise it's my ankle.'

   Mrs Wright continued as if nothing had happened.  "Well, please advise
Mrs Gaye that she has been requested to assist Mrs Morris and some of her
sixth grade class with a field trip to the female courthouse and jail
tomorrow.  The field trip will be a half-day so the kids can lunch here."

   "I will make sure Mrs Gaye is aware of the request.  It should be a good
time for her."

   "Thank you, Miss Johnson," Mrs Wright replied and walked out the door,
her footsteps receding down the hallway.

   Miss Johnson hissed as she put her hand on the back of Leslie's head. 
"Fuck that was so sexy.  Mrs Wright standing here talking and you sucking
my cunt."

   "Hmmm." Leslie replied as she French kissed Miss Johnson's clit.

   "Fuck, Mrs Gaye.  You fucking Christian whore, make me cum, damn you."

   A couple of deep tongue thrusts and several licks over Miss Johnson's
clit and the woman was cumming and filling her mouth her thick juice.  The
amazing thing to Leslie was that Miss Johnson had let go of her head and
still she licked and drank and sucked at the young teacher's cunt.

   Miss Johnson reached down with both hands and took hold of Leslie's
head. "Whewww!  Fucking whore!  God damn that was good." Miss Johnson
pulled Leslie's head back, looking down at her and Leslie smiled happily,
proud to have earned her praise.

   "You're a bad little girl aren't you Mrs Gaye?"

   "Yes Miss."

   "Does my cunt taste better than Miss Wolfe's?"

   Without hesitation Leslie said, "Yes", the colour rising in her wet
cheeks.

   "The gym teacher was disappointed that you left in a hurry so on
Thursday you will repeat your performance for the eighth grade boys' gym
class.  And this time will stay until the end of class.  No matter what
happens.  Understand?"

   "Yes Miss."

   "Good, tomorrow after the field trip you will be here in this class
giving a demonstration on hand jobs to the sixth grade boys' sex ed. 
class."

   "Yes Miss."

   "Your homework assignment tonight is to research how to give hand jobs
and what gels to use when giving them."

   "Yes Miss, I will surf the internet tonight from home."

   "Very good." Miss Johnson looked down at Leslie still under the desk. 
"Get up and get dressed and report to the front office.  You have escorting
duties."

   "Yes Miss."

   "And Mrs Gaye.....?"

   "Yes Miss?"

   "Don't wash your face.  It makes you look deliciously slutty being
covered in my cunt cream.  It's like I own you."

   "Yes Miss."

   Mrs Danvers had kids lined up by the time Leslie got to the office.  The
office secretary whispered, "Whore!" and looked at her face with a sneer
but she had made sure the kids had one dollar bills.

   Leslie had a wad of cash by the time three o'clock came.  She stuffed
the cash in her purse and asked Mrs Danvers if she could go to the
bathroom.

   She hurried down the hallway to the girls' bathroom, stopped outside the
door and looked up and down before pushing the door open and walking in.

   Susie was leaning up against one of the stall doors looking at her
watch. "Right on time, Mrs Gaye."

   "I don't have much time, I told Mrs Danvers I needed to go to the
bathroom."

   "Well, let's not waste time, then.  Your lover has been waiting all day
for this." Susie giggled as she stepped into the dirty stall with Mrs Gaye
following her.

   She sat down the toilet seat and spread her legs and Leslie gulped and
knelt down in front of her.  Excitement bubbled up inside her: she didn't
have to be here, she could have found an excuse, but she wanted to be.  She
reached out and pulled down Susie's thong, the pre-teen girl putting her
legs together so Leslie could remove them.

   For a few moments she gazed at the child's cunt: it was so smooth and so
puffy, and it glistened with preteen lust.  Leslie leaned forward to kiss
it but then suddenly recoiled.

   "Eeww!" she cried, wrinkling her nose.  "There's, there's..."

   "Piss and shit," giggled Susie.  "Go on say it."

   "Piss and shit, in the toilet."

   "Well, yeah, because the lever is broke.  Can't flush this toilet."

   "Can't we move to another stall?" Leslie whined.

   "Can't let a little smell stop you, Mrs Gaye.  Awesome has been waiting
for your lovely tongue all day." Susie smiled sweetly, sliding forward on
the seat.

   Leslie shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward and kissed the inside
of the preteen's left thigh and traced her tongue upward, slowing a bit as
she got close to Susie's clit.  Leslie pulled her head back a little,
pushed Susie's legs apart a little more, and licked along the folds of her
cunt with increased pressure.

   "Fuck, lick me, you fucking whore!" Susie hissed.

   Leslie laughed softly to herself and, putting her hands on the insides
of Susie's thighs, gently spread her legs so that her knees were touching
both sides of the stall.  Leslie slowly swept her tongue from bottom to
top, the length of Susie's swollen slit, causing another shudder to radiate
through girl's body.  For a brief second, Leslie thought she'd climaxed and
felt a moment of disappointment.

   "Oh my fucking God, yes!  Lick!  Lick more!  Lick faster!"

   The old Leslie would have said something about taking the Lord's name in
vain but she barely even thought about it.  She pulled her head back a
little, smiled shyly and said, "Awesome tastes lovely!"

   "God damn right," Susie replied as she put her hand on the back of
Leslie's head and pulled her face into her cunt.

   Leslie's next licks were long and slow causing the girl to wiggle on the
toilet seat.  From bottom to top, Leslie licked back and forth with her
tongue flat and broad across Susie's open juicy hole.  Steadily and firmly,
she licked the pre-teen over and over again, pulling her tongue away just
shy of her clit.

   Susie's clit was poking out of its hood, fully engorged and begging for
attention.  Leslie knew if she touched it with the tip of her tongue it
would be all over.  It would send Susie over the edge in a mind-blowing
orgasm, crashing like storm waves upon the shore and Leslie realised that
although she wanted to make that happen, she didn't want it to happen quite
yet.

   Above her, Susie moaned, holding Leslie's head as she slowly rotated her
hips.  Leslie continued licking upward, varying from the center by
alternating licks along each side of her cunt lips, trying to cover every
inch of Awesome with her tongue.

   By this time Leslie's face was drenched in the girl's juices and she was
able to savor that special nectar that only an aroused pre-teen girl can
give, but her knees were beginning to hurt on the hard bathroom floor.

   "Tongue fuck me, bitch!" hissed Susie as she tried to spread her legs
wider.

   Finally Leslie sensed that the time was right, that Susie's mind was in
that special place, that part of heaven where the sensations of pleasure
are felt.  The pre-teen was drenched with desire, sitting sprawled on the
toilet seat, breathing fast and moaning with lust as Leslie worked her
tongue in deep.  In the dim light Leslie could tell that Susie's nipples
were rock hard and poking out as her breasts heaved up and down.  In a
moment of pride, Leslie smiled to herself: she was getting better at this.

   "Fuck, fuck, fuck," moaned the pre-teen.

   On the next lick Leslie passed over her clit.  Then another.  With the
third lick she stopped on her clit and wiggled the tip of her tongue on it
for a few seconds.

   Leslie pulled away for a brief count and then did it again.  Susie
grabbed her head with both hands and held it down to her cunt, yelling,
"Yes, there, there.  Damn you fucking bitch don't stop!  Lick my clit! 
Suck on it!  You're my cunt whore!  Make me cum!!!"

   And so Leslie did.  She bore down on Susie's clit with her tongue and
started licking in a frenzy.  Faster and faster and faster!  Susie was
holding Leslie's head in place, but her hips were bucking off of the toilet
seat, literally fucking Leslie's face with all the force she had.

   Leslie could feel the pre-teen's climax building with her tongue and
lips, and as the girl's hips rose up and her back arched, she started to
scream, "Yessssss!  Jesus fucking Christ!  Yes!  Yes, oh fucking hell,
yes!"

   Leslie could tell Susie had gone over the edge, like a rowboat over
Niagara Falls, and fallen into the abyss of a mind-warping climax!  Over
and over again she bucked and rode every wave, every tremor of pleasure
that coursed through her young body.

   It took several minutes for Susie to calm down and Leslie laid her head
on the girl's right thigh and gently kissed Susie's cunt in a blissful
post-orgasmic world.  She enjoyed its soft warmth, its slipperiness, it's
fragrance and she too caught her breath.

   Eventually, Susie stirred and smiled down at Leslie.  "Okay, enough of
this fun time.  Awesome appreciates your tongue, Mrs Gaye."

   "I enjoyed it," Leslie whispered, a blush growing on her cum covered
cheeks.

   "Well, off the office with you then."

   Later, as Leslie showered to remove the dried cum from her face, she
wondered about what Susie had implied earlier in the day: was her husband
having an affair?  Fucking another woman?  Was all his preaching just a
sham?  She felt that somehow she should be very upset about even the
suggestion, but realised that she wasn't.  He had barely talked to her in
the past week and tonight he had come home late, eaten and gone straight to
bed.

   She turned off the shower, dried herself and walked naked into the
bedroom to find Randy lying with his back to her, snoring.

   "Typical!" she whispered to herself and sighed.  She hadn't held out
much hope but after the demands of the day, and an watching young boys
masturbate themselves on the internet, she had needed him tonight and there
he was, snoring.  She sighed: after all the pleasure that she seemed to end
up giving to other people, she wondered why nobody licked or kissed her
cunt.  There were so many opportunities to do so but it never happened.

   Her phone buzzed and there was a message from Susie.

   "Hi, Mrs Gaye.  Just been saying goodnight to Awesome.  She is very
pleased with you.  She said that cumming was like bolts of lighting that
went from your tongue onto my clit, up my spine, through my heart and out
the tips of my nipples.  Awesome can't wait to see you again."

   Leslie felt oddly proud of herself and desperately aroused.  She ran her
hand down over her stomach to her slippery cunt and fingered herself
softly, looking across at her husband.  He had preached about the
importance of faith and the evil of sin in the eyes of God and she had
always accepted his teaching, but now it seemed he was a fraud...?

   Her finger brushed against her swollen clit and she moaned
involuntarily, causing Randy to stir and then settle back to sleep.

   She crept into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and idly ran her fingers
around her clit, slowly working herself up to a climax.  She had never
deliberately set out to masturbate before but now she was and she felt no
guilt: nobody else would so she would do it for herself.  She played her
cunt like an instrument, controlling her climb to orgasm with little
whispered squeals of delight.  She slid a finger into herself and imagined
it was the eager cock of a preteen boy, fucking her and filling her with
his youthful cum.  She brought her finger to her mouth and tasted herself
and remembered the taste of Miss Johnson and the comfort she felt when she
was between her thighs.  And then, as her orgasm became unstoppable and
broke over her, she thought of Susie, the way her 12 year-old body had
trembled and clenched and arched against her probing, licking tongue.  She
realised that she couldn't wait to do it again.

   Awesome!
   End of chapter 10