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   Disclaimer update 2017

   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 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, 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
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   I hope you enjoy the story.

   Faculty Adviser 9

   Friday evening

   Leslie had just gotten home when it was time to make the call to Mrs
Peterson.  Her husband wasn't home from church yet; he usually worked late
anyway.  She put her bags of skimpy clothes on the couch as she scrambled
for her cell phone and then fumbled through her purse the number.  She
quickly dialed and listened for its ring.  A bolt of electricity shot up
her spine as she wondered what she would say and equally important, what
Mrs Peterson wanted.  She was an important person for the school district.

   Leslie heard the female voice come on the line with the customary
'Hello' and she nervously replied, "M..  Mrs Peterson?  This is Leslie
Gaye...from the middle school."

   "Oh yes, Mrs Gaye," Mrs Peterson began sternly.  Her voice had a natural
authority.  "I'll get right to the point.  I want you to meet the school
district leadership team.  After learning of your enthusiasm from Miss
Wolfe, we want to discuss how we should proceed with your...uh...new
position as faculty adviser."

   Leslie almost peed herself.  She felt faint and couldn't breathe.  She
thought her heart stopped.  What did all that mean?  Was she going to be
outed at church?  Would she be assigned a new job at the school?  She
gasped deeply and closed her eyes and she tried to compose herself.

   Barely able to hold the phone to her ear, she answered, "Uh, o-okay,
where would you like to meet?"

   Leslie shakily wrote down the address of where the school district held
its monthly meetings.  She hung up the phone and grabbed her chest.  What
did Mrs Peterson mean when she said, 'and dress like you would for school,
except nicer?' Leslie asked herself as she jumped in the shower.

   Leslie was very nervous as she rummaged through her closet looking for
something to wear.  What did the woman mean by nicer??  Her mind was filled
with questions causing her tons of anxiety and she couldn't think clearly
as she dressed.  She picked out a blue sleeveless mini-dress that had a
deep cut in the back and clung to her like a glove.  Mrs Peterson had said
to dress 'nice' so the place she was going to was undoubtedly upscale.  She
didn't need to wear a bra with the dress as it had padding already.  She
slipped on a pair of her modest undies before pulling on the dress.

   Leslie checked her appearance in the mirror before slipping on her
matching pumps.  Even she was impressed at how she looked.  The blue
stretchy dress followed every glorious curve and showed off her exquisite
physique in a very sexy way.

   She tossed her hair, applied some make-up and her favorite lipstick,
grabbed her purse and keys and headed out.  As she got in her car she
texted her husband, `Going to a school district meeting downtown, will be
back late.'

   As she secured her seat belt and turned the car on Randy texted back,
`Okay, have fun.'

   Mrs Peterson told Leslie to meet her at 7:00 sharp and judging by the
part of town she was going to, she had just enough time.  Darkness had
already fallen as she drove and everything seemed so unfamiliar: Leslie and
her husband had only been here for a year but never to this part of the
city.

   Arriving where her smart phone GPS directed her, Leslie peered through
car window looking for street names and addresses.  The section of the city
was pretty run down and in an agony of uncertainty, she wondered if she'd
gotten the address wrong.  She turned the radio on softly as a comforting
distraction.

   As the addresses counted down closer to her destination, the seedier the
area became: parked cars checkered both sides of the dimly lit street;
one-story businesses with neon signs in the windows lined the left side of
the street and old homes lined the right; large dark maple trees grew along
the street in front of almost every house and stretched high above the
street and almost provided a canopy.

   She slowed as she approached the address for the bar and carefully
pulled her car to right when she saw a green neon school district sign in
the window.  Above the door was another red neon sign that read, "Jesus
saves".

   "Is this the place?" Leslie muttered to herself.  "My gawd, it's awful,
how can the school board force the district to meet in a place like this?"

   She felt a creepy sense of nervousness as she checked her face in the
rear view mirror and then looked up and down the dark vacant street before
opening the door.  There were an awful lot of parked cars along the street.
She took a deep breath, pushed it open and dashed across the street
slamming the car door shut as she ran.  As she reached the door, she slowed
to a walk and noticed a hand written sign that said, `Welcome Ms.  Hall's
sixth grade class.' She thought that was strange: she knew of Mrs Hall and
also wondered why the district would bring her class here.

   Leslie drew a deep breath, pushed open the door and walked in, and she
felt the eyes of the patrons inside as the spring door slammed noisily
behind her.  She looked around the room: it was an old time bar from the
last century, very dark and trimmed with dark stained wood.  The long,
stool-lined bar sat to the left attended by a rather tall woman and there
were several well dressed women in business suits sitting at the bar
stools.

   Off to the right of the bar was a stage.  It looked like a dance stage
with a pole connecting from the stage to the ceiling.  There were chairs
and tables around it with a handful of kids sitting at the tables.  In the
back of the bar, Leslie could see another group of kids, laughing, yelling,
and playing old arcade games.  Further back, there was a pool table with
four women playing and beyond that, a few booths along the far wall.

   Along the walls were holy pictures, of Jesus, Mary and the Christ child,
as well as several crosses, all of which gave a Leslie a momentary sense of
relief, but she couldn't help but feel very uncomfortable as she took a few
steps further inside.  Her stomach tightened and she held her breath when
she realised the woman bartender was staring at her and as her eyes
adjusted to the darkness, she noticed the mirrored wall behind the
bartender was decorated with glassware and liquor bottles.  There was a red
light that backlit the bottles which made the bar seem like a brothel and
much to her dismay, on either side of the bar mirror were pictures of naked
women cavorting in various positions with kids.  What particularly bothered
her was that the pictures looked recent and the women were naked while the
kids were clothed.

   Damn, there was that tingling sensation in her crotch and her stomach
fluttered but at the same time she thought, `How could responsible
Christian parents allow their kids in a place like this?  Better yet, how
could law enforcement allow a place like this to exist?'

   Suddenly she felt a hand grab her arm and turn her around, and she
turned to see a well-dressed woman standing next to her.

   "You finally got here, Mrs Gaye."

   "Mrs Peterson?"

   The well-dressed woman held her with her strong grip and something about
her made Leslie feel like a child being who had done something wrong: the
woman seemed so much stronger than she was, not just physically, but also
in terms of her personality.  Leslie sensed that the woman would be scolded
like a child too, and she prepared herself for the worse because the school
district held her future.

   "Yes, Mrs Gaye, I'm Mrs Peterson, president of the school district."

   Leslie smiled weakly.  "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Peterson." Mrs Peterson
still held Leslie in a strong grip.  "Um, what is this place?"

   Mrs Peterson looked around.  "This bar in this seedy neighborhood is
where the district meets once a month, sometimes more if we have special
activities going on.  The county school board has decreed that we should
meet in an area of town like this so that our activities would not be
noticed by the fine upstanding people of the community." Mrs Peterson
paused as she looked at Leslie.  Leslie had a look of confusion on her
face. "The church needed income, Mrs Gaye, and they had an empty building
so they were gracious enough to rent it to us."

   Leslie still had a confused look on her face.  "The church owns this
building?"

   "Oh, I see," smiled Mrs Peterson.  "Your husband is one of the associate
pastors at the church?"

   "Yes."

   "And he didn't tell you about this, hmm?" Mrs Peterson asked, raising an
intimidating eye brow.

   Leslie shook her head.  She looked around the bar again.

   "Over the years, the church has been involved in activities that needed
to be discreet and this building met their needs.  In time the church
outgrew the building and it sat empty.  The church had moved to a more
upscale part of town that was just as discreet.  We came along and offered
to rent the building for our activities and the church agreed but only if
we kept the religious pictures and icons on the wall."

   Leslie wanted to ask what kinds of activities the church and district
were involved in but she really didn't want to know the answer with type of
pictures that were behind the bar.

   "The church needed revenue and we need a place to meet.  Everybody gets
something out of this deal."

   "Why not just meet at a school building?" Leslie asked.

   "Tsk, tsk, you're so dumb in certain things Mrs Gaye," Mrs Peterson
said, smiling, making Leslie's cheeks burn red.  "As a faculty adviser and
a former sex education teacher, you should know this stuff.  It's against
the rules Mrs Gaye.  The school district rotated meetings at people's
houses but that got a little too uncomfortable for some people."

   Leslie wondered why but thought it wiser to just nod her head.

   "Come along, Mrs Gaye." Mrs Peterson said, pulling Leslie along by arm
which she still held in a vice-like grip.

   As they moved between tables Leslie sensed the stares of the other women
and kids on her and she felt strangely naked, like she was being stripped
of her clothes by their eyes.  A shiver ran down her spine and her nipples
sprang to erectness.  She hated when that happened.  Her nipples seemed to
do that at the worst times and always sent the wrong message.

   Mrs Peterson pushed Leslie into a booth and she found herself sitting
across from another woman was seated in the booth.  "Mrs Gaye, this is Mrs
Elders, she is the president of the school board."

   "Please to meet you," Leslie said as she straightened herself.

   Judy Elders smiled but said nothing.

   "Mrs Elders and I are the leadership team.  We called you here to
discuss your new position as faculty adviser and your place within our
school system," Mrs Peterson said.  "Mrs Wright, Miss Wolfe and Miss
Johnson all speak very highly of you."

   Leslie felt her heart skip a beat and her face get flush.  She didn't
know what to say, in fact, she couldn't speak.

   "First off, I need to know if you followed my instructions," Mrs
Peterson continued, raising her eyebrows.

   Leslie didn't know what she meant and looked puzzled.  Her mind was
cluttered with worry and anxiety and she couldn't process cryptic messages.
"W-what do you mean?" she asked, looking at both women.

   "Did you dress in the SAME manner as you do for school?  Let me cut
right to the chase, Mrs Gaye, are you wearing underwear?"

   Leslie gasped in shock.  She didn't know what to say.  Why would she ask
about something so private?  Surely, Mrs Peterson, the president of the
school district, expected her to WEAR underwear: any respectable woman
would do that and Mrs Peterson was certainly respectable looking.

   Leslie sat up straight and confidently she answered, "Yes."

   Mrs Peterson leaned towards Leslie and her expression changed to a
scowl, "Get them off, NOW!" she ordered.

   "W-what?" Leslie squeaked.

   In a loud voice, easily drawing attention to them in the confines of the
bar, the woman repeated, "I said, get them off, NOW!"

   Leslie winced at the volume of the statement and looked around to see if
anyone had heard, Mrs Elders was still smiling at her and much to her
embarrassment, some of the kids and mothers were now staring in her
direction.  Leslie froze as she felt all eyes in the room bore in on her.
She didn't know what to do: her humiliation gripped her muscles and she
couldn't move; she couldn't believe the Mrs Peterson was serious; even
though she looked angry, Leslie couldn't believe she really meant 'now'.

   She tried to make herself look invisible but her back was in the corner
and she was facing the whole room so that everyone could see her clearly.
She wished she was sitting where Mrs Peterson was or even Mrs Elders, so
she could be out of sight from the bar patrons.  If the woman WAS serious
and she wanted her to take her panties off right then, everyone would be
able to see her do it.

   Leslie quickly considered her options.  Her heart beating faster as her
time ran out.  She had to decide what to do and quick.  What would happen
if she said 'no'?  She reasoned Mrs Peterson would freak out and maybe even
have her fired.  Hell, she might do that anyway, she told herself.  Leslie
squirmed in her seat when she thought about being fired.

   Again Mrs Peterson yelled, "NOW!" and Leslie leaped into action. 
Without thinking she reached up her dress and yanked her underwear to her
knees and quickly kicked them on the floor.

   Panting with the shock of being yelled at, and blushing with
embarrassment, she huffed, "OKAY, they're off!"

   Satisfied, Mrs Peterson continued.  "Mrs Gaye, you have done a very fine
job with the middle school's after school sex education classes this week,
as a faculty adviser of course.  The way that you worked with the girls,
your unquestioning obedience to the program, well, Miss Wolfe gives you
high marks for that."

   Leslie smiled weakly.  "Well, it was privilege to work with the girls."
Did she really mean that?  Leslie thought to herself.

   "The girls in their after program survey they filled out, gave you high
marks on your complience, not to mention your enthusiasm."

   Leslie blushed and looked down at the table top.  Her cunt tingled and
her nipples hardened as she flashed back to Thursday's orgy.

   Mrs Peterson continued.  "As Mrs Wright mentioned to you this morning,
the school district needs you to continue in the role as faculty adviser.
It is important for our sixth, seventh and eighth grade students to be
prepared sexually for high school." She paused and then leaned towards
Leslie for emphasis.  "But you have been surfing the fucking internet on a
school computer looking at fucking porn," Mrs Peterson hissed.  "That is a
very serious charge as it goes against school conduct."

   Leslie's heart raced with fear.  From the tone of her voice, she half
expected Mrs Peterson to tell her she was fired from the school.  Her mind
fought images of lesbian bondage, cocks and cunts as she sat there
contemplating her future.  She tried to listen as Mrs Peterson continued.

   "Mrs Gaye, do you want the state educational system to find that out?"
she asked.  "The education system here takes a very dim view of teachers in
positions of trust who surf the internet looking at porn while on school
time."

   "I,I did that to educate myself about things I didn't know." Leslie
stammered.

   "Didn't know what?" Mrs Peterson asked.

   Leslie hestitated and blushed.  "About sex." There she said it.

   Mrs Peterson smiled.  "Be that as it may, you knew it was against school
conduct rules.  So what should we do about it?"

   Leslie knew the answer to that question.  "N-no, please don't say
anything.  I'll do ANYTHING to keep my job," she pleaded, her eyes filling
with tears.  She was serious: she thought about Randy and how it would
crush him to find out she had been arrested for looking at porn, against
church teachings.

   Mrs Peterson smiled as she sat back in the booth.  "Good.  I was hoping
you'd feel that way," purred the woman.  "I think we need to put you to a
little test, first, to see if you're really serious about following our
directions."

   Leslie felt a sudden burst of hope.  She WAS willing to do whatever the
woman wanted.  She'd wait tables, get coffee, clean her house, wash
clothes, heck, she kidded herself, she'd even do windows!  For the first
time since Monday she felt like she was getting a break and she began to
relax.

   "I'll do it.  Whatever it is, I'll do it," insisted a more confident
Leslie as she sat straighter in her seat.

   Mrs Elders and Mrs Peterson smiled at each other.  "Mrs Elders, would
you like to explain to our new faculty adviser what she needs to do?" asked
Mrs Peterson.

   "Yes I would, Mrs Peterson," said Mrs Elders demurely, her voice
lowering to an almost inaudible level.  "Okay, Mrs Gaye, I want you to go
into that bathroom," she indicated the direction with her thumb, "and
proposition the first female that comes in there.  Tell her you want to
kiss her anus, just like that, 'kiss her anus'.  It doesn't matter if the
female is a young girl or a woman.  Got it?"

   Blood rushed from Leslie's brain and settled in her feet.  She couldn't
concentrate anymore.  Did she hear the president of the school board
correctly?  Was she supposed to go into a public bathroom and proposition
some female and tell her she wanted to 'kiss her anus'!  Leslie was totally
embarrassed that she had been so naive as to not think about THAT
possibility.  Why did she agree to do 'ANYTHING' before she knew what it
was?  What an idiot she was!

   Leslie hesitated.  "Mrs Gaye, this request is just like what you did for
those girls at the end of the special sex education class, I mean, we've
seen what you can do when you are properly motivated."

   "But, that was different," Leslie tried to say.

   Mrs Elders smiled.  "No difference Mrs Gaye.  You did it willingly then,
so it should be no different now."

   "We like your enthusiasm on the film, Mrs Gaye," Mrs Peterson added. 
"You were clearly happy to make good use of your tongue."

   Leslie averted her eyes.  It made sense but then she thought about how
horrible and exciting the request was.  She balanced it against her
options: Loose her new job or just do this request.  There really was no
difference from what she did yesterday afternoon to what she was being
asked this evening.  She slumped in her seat as the realization set in. 
She began to feel a little bit of excitement, picturing herself sticking
her tongue into some girls' asshole like yesterday.

   "Don't look so downcast, Mrs Gaye, you had no problem doing that in the
final class with the girls and Miss Wolfe, did you?" asked Mrs Peterson.

   Leslie shook her head.  The woman was right of course.  She could do
this, she told herself as she tried to muster up strength.  She glanced
around the room to see who it might be.  Would it be the bartender?  Or how
about one of the two women sitting at the bar?  And why did those two women
look familiar?  Or maybe one of the two business-attired women sitting
together at the table?  How about the other dozen or so other women over at
that stage sitting with the kids or in the video rooms?  Or God forbid, one
of Miss Hall's sixth grade girls?

   Leslie felt a familiar twinges and knew that it was her body betraying
her.  She blushed that being asked to do something at depraved as this
brought such a strong sense of arousal!

   She shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts.  She knew she'd have
to do this.  She stared at Mrs Peterson and Mrs Elders and felt like a kid
who'd just gotten caught stealing: she knew that surfing porn on the school
system wasn't allowed but yet she did it anyway and now she'd have to pay
the price for her stupidity.

   Sheepishly, she looked down and whispered, "Okay, I'll do it."

   Leslie pushed her knees off the side of the bench, stood up,
straightened her short blue clingy dress and headed toward the bathroom. 
She felt the eyes of the room follow her every step and she felt goose
bumps down her back and her nipples sprang to hardness.  Damn, she hated
that.  "Why did that happen now?" she scolded herself.

   With each step she took, her breasts bounced up and down causing her
nipples to abrade on the coarse material of the dress.  She wondered why
she hadn't worn it more often: the sensation was incredible and sent bold
of electricity to her moistening cunt.

   "NO!" she screamed in her mind, "NOW is NOT the time to think like
that!" and she quickly tried gathered her thoughts again.  She passed a
picture of Christ on the wall and whispered a quick prayer, but all he
seemed to do was leer at her.

   She pushed open the door to the bathroom and entered the dimly lit,
filthy room.  In the near corner was a dirty sink positioned under a small
vanity mirror, and two door-less stalls were against the opposite wall. 
The floor was covered in chipped red paint that led to a dirty drain in
middle of the floor and a cloying, fetid smell hung in the air.  On one
wall were two urinals hung close to the floor, both with painted pictures
of a woman's face inside them.  Both urinals were stained and looked like
neither had been cleaned or flushed in a long time.  It dawned on Leslie
that this was a coed bathroom.

   The wall next to the sink that was opposite the stalls was scratched and
scribbled with nasty graffiti messages about how women and dogs were the
same.  Other messages had phone numbers of moms with such messages as like,
"for a good time call".

   Leslie wanted to vomit at the smell of the place.  Out of curiosity she
looked in the stalls at the dirty, encrusted toilets, filthy with brown
rings and realised they hadn't been flushed in a while either and she
wondered why the district didn't get the place cleaned more regularly.  She
quickly became very afraid and regretted her decision: she envisioned a
woman's dirty ass in her face as she kneeled on the filthy floor, like some
sort of nightmare.  Except that, for some reason, it excited her.

   Just then the restroom door swung open.  Leslie looked up and her heart
sank: in walked a young girl with blonde hair wearing a short skirt and a
pink t-shirt.
The girl stood just inside the restroom as the door swung closed and

smiled at Leslie.  "Hello, Mrs Gaye.  I'm Natalie."

   "Um, hi Natalie," stammered Leslie as she looked at the girl.

   "You can call me Miss Natalie," the girl said.  She looked nervous but
her voice was firm.

   "Yes Miss Natalie," Leslie replied, then looked away from the girl,
realizing what she must ask.

   Natalie stood there looking at her expectantly and Leslie felt
uncomfortable as she worked up her courage.

   "Um, I, Um," she stammered.

   "Yes Mrs Gaye?" Natalie fidgeted with her fingers: unbeknownst to
Leslie, her dream was about to come true.

   "I um, want to kiss your anus!" Leslie said quickly, blushing.

   Natalie brought her right hand up to her mouth and giggled, her eyes
alight with excitement.  "You are so cute Mrs Gaye." Leslie burned with
shame as she kept her eyes adverted.  "But ask me like this, `Can I kiss
your anus, Miss Natalie?'"

   The eleven-year-old turned away from Leslie, faced the sink and waited.
Eventually she looked over her shoulder.  "Well?"

   Leslie shrugged her shoulders but finally said.  "Can I kiss your anus,
Miss Natalie?" and gulped.

   Natalie looked over her shoulder.  "Yes, Mrs Gaye, you may.  Kneel
behind me, pull my panties down and put your head under my skirt."

   Leslie gulped again then walked over to the girl.  She knelt behind the
youngster and slowly put her hands under the girl's skirt and pulled down
her panties.  Natalie lifted her right foot.  "All the way off, Mrs Gaye."

   Leslie removed the girl's panties and put them next her knee.  She
looked up at the girl then put her head under her skirt and used her hands
to spread the girl's ass cheeks.

   "Kiss me like you mean it, Mrs Gaye.  I want to feel your tongue and
lips on my brownie.  Kiss it like you would your husband, like you haven't
seen him in a while.  I want to feel your slobber on my asshole," the girl
said huskily.

   Leslie couldn't tell if the girl had been told to say that or if she
really meant it but she took a deep breath and nodded her head.  For the
next couple of minutes Leslie, kissed, slobbered, licked and rubbed her
face on the eleven year-old's tight little anus.  The girl cooed and
"ahhed" and gave encouragement to Leslie and she felt an unexpected sense
of pride as she pleasured the little girl.

   Natalie took a deep breath and turned slightly to push Leslie's head
away.  "Enough Mrs Gaye."

   Leslie sat back on her heels looking up at the girl, a sheen of slobber
over her mouth and cheeks.

   "You were very good Mrs Gaye," she said as she headed towards the door.

   "What about your panties, Miss Natalie?" Leslie was holding them up for
the girl.

   Natalie stopped and thought about it.  "You keep them until Monday." She
paused.  "Better yet, you wash them, iron them and fold them and bring them
to me in my first class Monday.  Mrs Hall's homeroom class."

   "But, Miss Natalie, I can't..." Leslie started to say but the girl
didn't give her a chance to finish.

   "You're the best Mrs Gaye!" she said with a giggle as she walked out the
bathroom door.

   Leslie stood up and watched her go.  `Well, that's done' she thought
with a sigh, aware suddenly of the slipperiness between her thighs.

   Leslie was startled back into reality when the door flew open and banged
hard against the back wall.  She turned around quickly and saw not one but
BOTH of the women who were sitting at the bar.

   "What are you looking at, Mrs Gaye?" said the first to enter, walking
towards her.

   "N-nothing," stammered a frightened Leslie, and then she suddenly .  Her
eyes got big who the two women were.  "Oh my god!" was all she could say.
"Miss Lee and Miss Adamson!"

   "Are you wondering what two Sunday school teachers doing here?" asked
Miss Adamson, grinning at her.

   Leslie wanted to bolt for the door but it was being blocked by Miss Lee.
She felt frightened as the two ambled closer and her heart pounded faster
and harder as she tried to back away.  She jumped when her back contacted
the cold cinder block wall opposite the stalls, realising there was no
escape, and she tried to cover herself from the leering eyes of the two
women.

   "We like sex just as much as anybody else.  Just because we teach Sunday
school doesn't make us prudes," Miss Adamson said.

   "And we've heard you like to spend time playing with young girls'
cunts," added Miss Lee, "and you're the preacher's wife!"

   Leslie felt panic rising in her stomach and looked desperately for a way
to escape.

   Miss Lee leered at her.  "Poor scared Mrs Gaye.  Well fuck, let's see
what you got on under that pretty dress of yours."

   Leslie was frozen with fear.  "Please...don't...," she begged, "please
leave me alone, PLEASE!  I'm a Christian woman just like you." She clutched
her hands tightly to her chest in a vain attempt to protect herself.

   The two women leaned against her, one of each side and she flinched when
she felt hands touch the outside of her thighs.  She grimaced as the two of
them brought their weight to push her hard against the wall, pinning her
helplessly.

   "No Christian women here tonight, whore!" Miss Lee replied.

   "And neither are we," added Miss Adamson.

   Leslie stared at them in fear and disbelief, knowing what was going to
happen, that they were going to rape her, but not knowing how, and not
understanding why her clit was swelling in expectation.

   The two women grasped the hem of Leslie's dress and Miss Lee began to
count"One...two..." she began, "THREE!" At that the two of them ripped up
from the bottom of the material and pulled the shredded dress over her head
and completely off her body.  Leslie gasped loudly as she was exposed
completely naked in front of these two women.  She tried to cover herself
as best she could, but despite her best efforts her breasts were hanging in
full view and her pinched knees did little to hide her tiny muff.

   Leslie huffed with breathless fear as she tried to scrunch down from
view and she wanted to scream, but couldn't.  Each woman took one of
Leslie's arms and forced it overhead and pinned it against the wall. 
Leslie's breasts were pushed outward since her back had to arch.  At the
same time, they kicked Leslie's feet outwards, forcing her legs revealingly
apart and causing her to balance

   With their free hands the Sunday School teachers groped Leslie's firm
flesh.  They massaged her breasts, ran their hands up and down her taught
stomach, brushing lightly over her soft hairless mound and down across her
thighs.

   Leslie continued to struggle but something strange began to happen.  She
felt her skin become covered in goose bumps as the twos hands wandered.

   "What was happening?" she begged herself for an answer.  "T-this can't
be!" she screamed in her mind, as she wriggled against the wall.  Despite
her best efforts to fight off the unintended arousal, it didn't work.  She
couldn't believe it.

   She let out a loud gasp when she felt Miss Adamson's mouth clamp onto
her breast and begin to suckle her nipple.  She looked down as the woman
intensified her sucking and stretched her nipple, and let out another moan,
"O-o-o-o-h-h-h." Just like the tween girls this week when they sucked her
nipples.

   "You like this, don't you Mrs Gaye?" Miss Lee whispered teasingly and
she slid her hand over Leslie's soft pubic area and pushed her middle digit
into the soft moist flesh.  "Oh yeah, Mrs Gaye, you Christian whore, you
and your Christian cunt really like it."

   Leslie was mortified.  How could that be?  She continued to wriggle
against the unwanted touches of these two women but somehow she still got
wet!  She didn't understand it.  Her mind was clouded with questions for
which she didn't have answers.  All she knew was that Miss Lee was right
somehow, just like Miss Wolfe and Miss Johnson.

   Leslie's confusion continued, as did the probing fingering and the
animalistic sucking on her breast.  As her struggling turned to writhing,
Leslie looked down and watched Miss Adamson suck her breast with reckless
abandon.  She felt sweat forming against the once cold cement wall as her
breathing changed to panting.  She didn't understand any of it.  Her mind
was telling her one thing but her body was reacting in a completely
different manner and IT was winning!  Her head rolled from side-to-side as
the intensity of her arousal built toward orgasm.

   The two Sunday school teachers were relentless.  Leslie was reaching the
edge and she wouldn't be able to fight it much more.  Being raped by two
young women, who taught Sunday school at the church, in a filthy restroom
of a bar wasn't enough to deter the overwhelming sensations her body was
receiving.  When she felt the hot breath of Miss Lee whisper in her ear,

   "Go ahead and cum, Mrs Gaye, it's okay," she said, her lips touching
Leslie's ear.

   Leslie let go and released a rush of sloppy orgasmic liquid all over
Miss Lee's hand, "A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-o-o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h-h".

   Leslie's pussy involuntarily pulsated with squirts of love juice as she
ground her hips against the middle finger.

   Miss Lee retracted her slimy finger, sniffed it and then pushed it into
Leslie's mouth.  "Suck it whore."

   Woozy from the intensity of the orgasm, Leslie willingly sucked on the
finger, lapping it and bathing it with her tongue.  The taste was nothing
new to her, she had tasted her cunt juice on the dildoes the girls had used
on her yesterday, and now, lost in the physical excitement, she moaned
sensually, licking her s to catch the last remnants of flavour.

   The two women smiled at each other, released her and watched her slump
to the floor.  As they headed to the exit, Miss Adamson grabbed Leslie's
dress off the floor and tossed her two clothing items.  "Put these on and
leave your heels on," she said over her shoulder as both women walked out
the door, "and don't take too long coming out."

   Coming to her senses, Leslie quickly picked up the two clothing items,
thong underwear and a short cotton halter top - her dress was inside out.
She slipped the thong on and then pulled the halter top down and over her
tits.  The cotton top just barely covered her breasts.  She walked out the
restroom door and it was like the whole place stooped and looked at her. 
She felt self-conscious with her tits swinging back and forth as she
walked, especially as they were still painfully erect from the restroom.

   She headed for the sanctity of the booth and as she approached, she
noticed Natalie standing next to the table smiling.  She heard her say,
"She was wonderful, Mrs Peterson.  She pushed her tongue right inside.  I
really hope that I get chosen again for this special treat."

   "Thank you, Natalie, I'm glad you enjoyed it," replied Mrs Peterson. 
Then she stood up as Leslie reached the table.  "Follow me, Mrs Gaye."

   Leslie did as she was told and they headed for the dance stage, around
which the boys and girls sat.  When the kids saw Mrs Peterson and Mrs Gaye
walking their way, they started chanting, "Mrs Gaye, Mrs Gaye, Mrs Gaye."

   Leslie felt very naked wearing only the thong and halter top: her tits
were bouncing up and down with each step and the thong sank into her wet
folds.  She noticed that each child had dollar bills in their hands; she
wondered what on earth was going to happen now.

   Mrs Peterson stepped up on the dance stage laughing and smiling and
yelled out, "Children, children, please, can I have your attention please?"

   When they quieted down, Mrs Peterson said, "Good evening, kids, mothers
and like minded women.  Thank you for coming tonight.  We have a special
guest, Mrs Gaye, who is the new faculty adviser at the middle school.  And
I think most everybody here knows her husband?"

   There was applause and whistles from the audience.

   "Mrs Gaye has been here at the middle school for a short time, in fact,
she came here at the start of the school year.  As I am sure some of you
will know, she has been teaching the sex education classes."

   Again there was applause and whistles from everybody present.

   Looking at the kids, Mrs Peterson continued, "As you know, Mrs Elders,
school board president, selected your class for this month's adult
entertainment."

   There were shouts of "Hooray" and the kids cheered.

   "Mrs Gaye has graciously accepted our invitation to dance for your
pleasure".

   Everybody in the bar whistled and cheered, louder than before.

   Leslie looked horrified.  "Invitation?  What invitation?  And what kind
of dance is she talking about?" she wondered.  She hadn't noticed that Mrs
Elders had walked up and stood beside her.

   "Yes, that's right Mrs Gaye," Mrs Elders whispered in her ear, "You are
going to do a strip tease for these boys and girls."

   It was then that Leslie realized why the kids were holding dollar bills.
"But, but, I can't, no it isn't right to do this" she stuttered.

   "How badly do you want to work at the school?" replied Mrs Elders.

   `Oh God, why do I get myself into these situations,' Leslie thought. 
She needed her job and she had worked so hard for it.  And wasn't she
simply doing the Lord's will?

   "Okay, Okay, I'll do it, but how?"

   "It is a three song set, the first song you dance around the stage,
shaking your tits and ass at the children, on the second song about half
way thru, you take your top off and shake your lovely titties at the
kiddies," Mrs Elders laughed at this, "and on the third song, you take your
thong off and shake your cunt and ass in front of the children.  The more
sluttish and sexy you dance, the more money the kids will give you.  The
money you get to keep."

   Leslie gulped, "I don't know...I just can't, doesn't seem right" she
stammered.

   "School job Mrs Gaye."

   Leslie looked over her shoulder and around the bar.  Everybody was
smiling and and talking in anticipation of her dancing.

   "Okay" was all Leslie said and stepped towards the dance stage.

   "Let's give Mrs Gaye a big round of applause," yelled Mrs Peterson.

   Everybody in the bar clapped and cheered as Leslie stepped up on the
stage.

   The first song came on and Leslie slowly started to shake and move her
body to the beat, but the kids jeered and booed at her attempts to dance.
They called her slut, whore, dumb bitch, cunt.  Humiliated, Leslie burned
with shame.  `Well, I have nothing to loose,' she thought and really
started to dance and cavort around the stage in front of the kids.  She
allowed her t-shirt to ride up to give glimpses of her nipples, she thrust
pelvis out and turned and bent over, pulling her buttocks open to show just
the thin chord of her thong covering her asshole.  The children started
cheering.  By the end of the first song, she was sweaty and all worked up:
pleasing the kids like this was exciting to her, she was finally doing some
good, but it was also so amazingly arousing.

   The second song started and Leslie really got into it.  She threw her
halter top off and her tits swung freely.  She licked her lips seductively
and squeezed them together and the kids started yelling and cheering her on
and waving their dollar bills at her.  Leslie smiled and laughed along with
the kids as they called her names.  Then she remembered that strip dancers
took the dollars in their g-strings so she sauntered up to the edge of the
stage and let the girls and boys put their dollars under her thong string.
Nor did she object that while they were doing that, the girls and boys also
copped a feel of her cunt or slapped her ass cheeks which turned her on
even more.

   When the third song started Leslie wasted no time in pulling off her
thong and whole bar erupted in cheering and yelling.  She started to crawl
around the dance stage on her hands and knees shaking her ass and cunt in
front of the children, exposing herself wantonly.  The kids were going
wild, they were yelling, clapping and cheering over the music, and more
dollar bills were thrown on the stage.  As she tried to reach the bills,
the kids leaned over the edge of the stage fingering her cunt and asshole,
and she made no efforts to move away or stop them.  Rather, she made it
easier for them finger her, moving closer, spreading wider.

   Leslie was unbelievably aroused, her sloppy cunt twitching for a second
release.  She looked at the audience and she could see her lust mirrored in
their faces: Mrs Peterson, Mrs Elders plus Miss Lee and Miss Adamson were
standing clapping along with the song and cheering; other mothers had
gathered behind the kids and were also cheering, some with hands buried
between their legs; she could have sworn that she saw smart phones pointed
in her direction.

   It was all too much.  She knew she had to cum.  She lay back on the
shower of banknotes, spread her legs as wide as the would go and plunged
three fingers into her swollen saturated cunt.  She was almost unaware of
the cheering, the swirling dollar bills as she masturbated.  This was so
wrong, so sinful, sooo wonderful.  There was a picture of Jesus on the wall
in front of her and she thought of him watching her stretching her cunt
open in wanton invitation, of him walking over to her, his swollen cock in
his hand....  and she came with a cry of pleasure.

   Suddenly, the song had ended and Leslie collapsed on the stage while in
front of her, the bar was clapping and cheering.

   Mrs Elders walked over to her and bent down.  "Good show, sweetie, just
what we were looking for, we got it all on camera.  And you did a lot
better as first timer than a lot of the mother's who've done this.  As I
said you can keep the money, you earned it."

   Mrs Peterson got up on the stage, "Okay, kids, the adult show is over,
your parents are waiting outside and have a good weekend."

   As Leslie lay on the stage the kids filed by and slapping her ass or
pinching her nipples thanking her for a good time.  Some of the mothers
were in line also and gave Leslie a slap to her tits or ass.  She thought
she heard some of the women inquiring if Leslie were available for private
parties.  She heard Mrs Peterson laugh and refer the women to Miss Johnson
who was Leslie's supervisor now.

   As the bar slowly cleared somebody had thrown Leslie's dress and
Natalie's panties on the stage.  Leslie sat up and started to get dressed.
As she jumped down from the stage she came face to face with the wife of
the leader of the church, Mrs Sally Wilson.

   "Very good Mrs Gaye!" beamed the woman.

   Leslie's heart sank when she saw the woman and the smart phone she was
holding.  "Oh, please Mrs Wilson don't tell my husband.  He'd be absolutely
crushed."

   "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Mrs Gaye.  There's no need to
tell your wonderful husband anything as long as you have enthusiasm for the
program."

   "Oh, yes, I have the utmost enthusiasm for the program, Mrs Wilson!"
gushed Leslie as she straightened her blue dress.

   "Good, and call me, Miss Sally, from now on," smiled the woman as she
patted Leslie on her right cheek and walked off.

   Leslie turned to head towards the door when Natalie stepped in front of
her.  "Oh, Nata... I mean, Miss Natalie."

   "I really loved what you did in the restroom, Mrs Gaye," smiled the
eleven year-old.

   "Um, thank you," Leslie replied as she eyed the front door.

   "Could we do that again some time?" Natalie asked with a wide grin.

   "Well, I think that was just a onetime thing, Miss Natalie," Leslie
replied anxiously.

   "Hmm, I had heard that Miss Johnson is your superior.  I think I will
ask her about the possibility of getting a date with you." Before Leslie
could protest, the girl said, "Good night, Mrs Gaye!  And don't forget my
panties on Monday," and walked out of the door.

   Leslie sat in her car and cooled off.  A date?  She got the feeling that
nobody paid any attention to her once they got what they wanted from her.
Some of the kids walked by the car and knocked on her window and waved at
her and she smiled weakly at them.

   As she pulled into the driveway she felt a sigh of relief as her husband
wasn't home yet.  She hurried inside to the master bedroom and sat down on
the bed and burst into tears.  She felt so used and abused from the
evening, heck from the whole ordeal of the week.

   She opened her purse and took out the dollar bills and realised there
were a lot of them.  She counted the money: two-hundred dollars.  If she
thought about it, there were not two hundred people in the bar this evening
which meant that the kids and the women must have given her more than a
dollar each.  She felt an odd twinge of pride at that and her cunt tinkled
a little but just as quickly she was embarrassed.  How could she do a
striptease?  She had no choice and apparently, she was good at it because
of the money she made.  She got up from bed and went to the closet.  She
took out a shoe box from the top shelf and removed the heels from it,
replacing them with the bills and then returned the box to the top shelf.

   As she stood in front of the closet, visions of the stage floated in
front of her eyes and she moved her hand under her skirt and rubbed her
clit.  It felt sooo good.

   Just then the front door opened.

   "Hi, honey, I'm home!" her husband shouted.

   "In the bedroom, dear!" she called back, disappointed that she couldn't
finish the job with her clit.

   Her husband had the smell of perfume on him and that made Leslie mad. 
How could he do this to her?  But as she thought about it she was no better
than he was after what happened this evening and the past week.  She
slumped her shoulders.  How could things get so out of hand?
   **