In the waning days of my senior year in high school, I was doing what everyone else was doing; running out the string until graduation.
It was a hot day in June, but Ms. Werner would have looked cool and collected if she were in an oven. She was my math teacher and couldn’t have been more than 24 years old. Today, she wore a red dress that fit alluringly over her perfect body. She had on black high heels over nylons and sported an expensive looking string of pearls that seemed rather inappropriate in a high school setting. Her hair was the most exotic blend of black and gold I had ever seen. And she was absolutely beautiful. All the guys wanted her, and all the girls looked up to her.
Ms. Werner’s eyes were like two chips of black ice. She was usually cordial toward students, but the smile on her face was belied by the coldness of her glare. If I had taken warning from the icy glint in her eyes, I might have been able to spare myself from what took place on the day I’m about to describe. It happened ten years ago.
She and I were alone in her classroom, talking before class. She sat at her desk and I stood in front of her as she delicately and fetchingly dangled a shoe from her stocking foot. All of Ms. Werners’ body movements were precise and graceful…. when she walked, when she gestured, when she sat and when she stood still. And as she wiggled her foot from side to side with the shoe hanging provocatively from it, I was becoming hypnotized. The small, tight grin on her face told me that she knew it, just as she knew of the awe and jealousy she inspired from all female students. As she watched me watching her, the grin became a disdainful sneer.
I should explain about myself. My name is Kayla. I’m 18 and looking forward to attending college in the Fall. I have a lot of friends and have been lucky enough to have enjoyed an active dating life throughout high school.
I like guys. I mean, I like guys but sometimes I like girls, too. I never thought of myself as anything but “straight,” but I can’t deny that the mere sight of some girls gives me a tingling, stirring feeling in my private areas. But I always figured that when I eventually settle down, it would be with a guy, you know? I still do.
Yet, some girls simply melt me. They just do. And when I try to track down the cause of this, the answer always seems to point to girls…..or women….who are older than me. I can’t say why, except to speculate that an older girl is more experienced and can show me things I never knew existed. On more than one occasion, they’ve taken me places I could only dream of…..and it was wonderful; so very wonderful.
Of course, guys have shown me things, too. It’s good, it really is, but not as good as with a girl. It’s as if there is a “home court advantage” when two females engage one another; a girl knows exactly how to please another girl because she knows how she herself wants to be pleased.
But high school society, even in this modern age, is surprisingly old-world in what it will and will not accept. In other words, a guy and girl can neck in the hall, or a guy can catch a quick feel from his girlfriend on the front lawn of the school, but two girls wanting to engage in some tenderness had better not do it where their peers can see them. In today’s world, political correctness demands that we say we have no problem with homosexuality……but let’s keep it private just the same, shall we?
So, I watched Ms. Werner dangle her high heel as I stood in front of her, and I felt those old familiar stirrings within me. She had all the qualities I treasured. She could take me places I’ve never been before. Yet, part of my fantasy required me to find a woman who enchanted me…… then to try my best to exert dominance over her!
I wanted to be the one to rule…..I would make every effort to defeat that woman’s passion with my own.
Could Ms. Werner be the one? Did I dare use my charms on the hardest, coolest teacher I had ever encountered?......Yes, I could try!…..If I could cast my spell over her and bend her to whatever shape I wanted, I would know the ecstasy I had always dreamed of. Plus, to captivate Ms. Werner, of all people……the toughest, most mysterious woman I had ever known…….Well, I hoped to get the opportunity…….. not realizing the opportunity was about to find me.
As we talked, my eyes were fixed on her. It didn’t occur to me to think that Ms. Werner might be measuring my scrutiny.
“You’ve watched me before, Kayla. I’ve seen it.” intoned Ms. Werner. Her voice was growing sultry and I felt a little weak listening to her velvet-laced tones.
“No,” I answered meekly.
“Yes, you have; there’s no sense denying it. Your eyes see me, but you wonder about the parts of my body you can’t see under this dress, don’t you? Because I have the most sensuous body ever possessed by a woman,” she purred. “ You already know it; I can tell. Why don’t you kneel down and see for yourself?”
She flexed her body slowly back and forth on her chair as I stood with my back to the desk….. and bent down without truly realizing I was doing it. Mesmerized, I found myself on my knees between her slightly spread legs when the bell suddenly rang. We had both forgotten that class was about to begin and were startled when students started pouring in the door.
“Oh, my God!” said Ms. Werner. She quickly pushed me under the desk before anyone could see what was going on. I huddled there, scared out of my mind, but it became quickly apparent that I wasn’t nearly as scared as she was. Her voice shook a little as she announced to the class;
“Put your books away. I’ll be passing out the test. You’ll have the whole period to complete it.”
Ms. Werner got up to distribute the papers and I was alone under the desk. Looking around, I realized that it was one of the old-style solid oak desks and no one could possibly know I was there unless they came around to the front and looked. Unexpectedly, the humor and irony of the situation struck me and I almost laughed out loud.
I had Ms. Werner over a barrel! The chance to dominate that I craved had suddenly presented itself!
It would be expected that a teacher would sit at her desk during a test. When she did, I could do whatever I wanted. I mean, who did she think she was, enticing me like that? I was the student and she was the teacher; she wasn’t supposed to be luring me in. Better still, if it was somehow discovered that a student was having her way with a teacher under her desk while class was in session, who would get in trouble? Me?
Hardly. In fact, it was
she who would have to answer for it. And she would be further compromised by the fact that the student and teacher were of the same gender. How would she explain her way out of that one?
Yes, indeed! I was going to have my way with one of the most beautiful, sexiest women I had ever seen, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, either now nor later!
After distributing the tests, Ms. Werner returned to her chair, casting wary glances down at me, crouched under her desk. She pulled her chair further away from the desk than she normally would, and sat down. She was facing forward, but her legs were about two feet away from where I sat on the floor. I giggled, realizing she was trying to keep out of my reach.
And who could blame her? She could scarcely afford to have this odd little arrangement discovered, could she?
Emboldened, I grasped her ankle and pulled her toward me, the chair rolling forward on its’ bearings. She slapped at my arm, then drew her hand away quickly, and I guessed that a student had looked up at the sound. She stiffened, then relaxed a moment later when the crisis was apparently over.
I had her where I wanted. What could she do to me afterward? Flunk me? Suspend me? If she tried, it would be mighty interesting to hear how she would justify it to the administration, wouldn’t it?
Feeling in total control, I slowly removed Ms. Werner’s right shoe. Knowing that I had 45 minutes to play, I vowed to enjoy Ms. Werner in slow, deliberate fashion. I stared at her soft, shapely ankle, just an inch from my face. I put my nose to her nylon and inhaled deeply. I got a mixture of musk, moisturizing cream, and light perspiration. I stroked my cheek up and down her right leg. Her body twitched with each touch, as though light electric shocks were passing through her body. Her hands jerked slightly with each caress….and I giggled each time they did. I was in full control!
Using my tongue, I licked sensually up and down her leg, from foot to thigh. I looked up at Ms. Werner as my tongue rested on her knee. Her cold eyes were blazing with anger. This scared me a little. Then I looked at her hands. They were tightly holding her chair on either side; she was gripping it as if she would fall to the floor if she let go. My confidence was fully restored when I saw her chest heaving, even as she was trying to control it, fearful that one of her students would notice. Her mind might be hating what I was doing to her body, but her body was loving it.
I removed her other shoe and caressed her left leg, as I had done her right. Then, feeling in complete charge, I decided that her nylons had to go. Reaching into my book bag, I pulled out a nail file. I giggled soundlessly and used it to start cutting away her panty hose. As I started on her legs and worked my way upward, Ms. Werner probably wasn’t yet certain what I was doing. When my hands reached under her dress and touched the waistband of her hose, though, I felt a tingling sensation that she felt, too. Startled, she gasped out loud as she grasped my intention.
I heard a student ask; “Ms. Werner, are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered, controlling her voice as best she could. “Go back to your test.”
I laughed to myself again, feeling in control and invulnerable. Having cut her pantyhose, I stripped them from her body, letting my fingernails trail lightly against her thighs and hips. Pulling them from her legs and feet, I felt sexual stirrings in my own stomach like none that I had ever felt before. It was as if butterflies had taken up residence there. It was the touch of her body, yes…..but it was also the thrill of risk.
Her bare legs were as beautiful as the rest of her. Plainly, this was a woman who took care of them. Ms. Werner was such a hard bitch, how could her legs be so soft and beautiful? I loved the contradiction.
I thrust myself forward between her legs and touched her vulva with my mouth. I nosed it and found it to be as soft and alluring as I knew it would be. I detected a faint smell of lilac….and thought my heart would burst with desire. Using my hands to grasp the inside of her thighs, I applied outward pressure and pried them apart, exposing the maw of her vulva. Sighing with desire, I thrust my tongue into her womanhood, licking slowly, fully and lushly. I was in heaven, my passion ratcheted up to the highest degree and my entire body tingling with pleasure. My tongue probed so deeply that I felt it would soon touch the base of her spine (
tee hee!). Ms. Werner was feeling it, too. She was emitting tiny gasping sounds; whispered cries of ….
oh…. oh….oh. She held her hands against my forehead as if to keep me away, yet there was no strength behind it…. I did as I pleased and she couldn’t stop me. Soon, her hands involuntarily dropped to my shoulders and massaged them gently……she was caught in my trap!
She was obviously being successful in hiding her passion from the students, yet she was helpless. Where could she go? What could she do?
I laughed again to myself and decided to go for the coup de grace, the stroke that would finish her off. I let go of her foot and removed my own tennis sneakers. Examining my feet, I found them to be clean, attractive and kind of sweaty. For my purposes, that was perfect.
Sitting back on my butt, I extended my feet forward and started to massage her legs. I rubbed her soles with my own and the sensation was incredible. I massaged her ankles with my toes and let my heels caress her arches, her shins, her firm, creamy thighs. My bare skin on hers created an almost liquid friction that sent sparks shooting through both our bodies.
At first, she struggled to remain motionless while I massaged, but within a minute, her body was involuntarily responding. Her loosened thigh muscles were pounding up and down on her chair, violently but soundlessly. A tiny whining sound whistled in her chest and I knew she wouldn’t be able to control herself much longer. I could sense the pressure building inside her and knew what was coming. Her unwilling excitement was imparted to me and left me almost breathless. Again, I looked into her eyes and could see pure fury blazing in them, even as her body was wracked with passion. Her hands, which had been gently massaging my shoulders, had turned to claws as she swiped ineffectually at my neck, trying to escape, yet being unable to generate the strength to do so.
She was the respected, feared teacher……yet her student was in charge. Me!
What a jumble of emotions must have been coursing through her! She knew that she couldn’t call the class’ attention to her by reacting openly to what was going on under her desk, yet her own passion wouldn’t allow her to simply rise from the chair and walk to another part of the classroom. She had never known the feeling of being controlled by a student, and it was driving her wild.
I knew that the test had only a few more minutes to run, so I prepared my final assault. I raised both my feet and extended them up her dress and against her vulva. With our eyes fixed on each other, I started a smooth, circular massaging motion against her womanhood that had her trembling helplessly in her seat. I inserted my big toe into her vagina and rotated it sensuously back and forth, sliding it in and out. I knew exactly how to stimulate another woman in this way (that “home-court advantage” I spoke of earlier). Ms. Werner had gone numb from the effects of this sexual assault; she lost all control of her body. She shivered once, then twice…. then slumped in her seat as her warm wetness flowed over my toes. Scalding tears squirted from her eyes, yet she made no sound. I had to admire the way she successfully controlled herself enough to not alert anyone in the class to what had happened. She was hot, but she was cool.
The bell rang and the students rose to hand in their tests. Ms. Werner pushed her chair closer to the desk to keep me hidden from view as they placed their papers on the desk.
It was over.
Or so I thought.
*********************
When the last student left the classroom, Ms. Werner stood and slipped her shoes on. Without a word, she grabbed my arm and yanked me roughly to my feet. I knew she was angry, but still figured I was safe from any trouble she might try to get me into.
“I know your game, Kayla,” she said. “You think you can get away with something like this because a teacher would be held responsible for anything that happens with a student, don’t you?”
“Actually, yes,” I replied easily. “After all, you did start the whole thing by offering to seduce me. So what are you gonna do, huh?”
Ms. Werner flashed a cold smile that scared me a little, despite the fact I knew I was right.
“Oh, nothing will happen to you
officially, Kayla. But I’m going to show you what happens to smart-ass girls who think they can get away with trying to control me. We’re going to my office.”
She grabbed my arm again and hustled me out of the room toward her office, which was located down the hall.
“Wait.” I protested, “My sneakers are still under your desk.”
She didn’t answer, just whisked me barefoot down the hall. No one else was around. I tried to shrug off her arm, but couldn’t. Her grip was fierce and unyielding.
I still wasn’t really worried, for it looked as if I was just going to get a talking-to in the teacher’s office, which I’ve been through before. But when we arrived, she shoved me into the small room and locked the door. This time, the icy glare I saw in her eyes
did scare me.
“You little bitch!” she spat. “Do you know what would have happened to my career if anyone had seen what you were doing under the desk?”
Before I could answer, she grabbed the shoes from her feet and slammed them furiously against the wall, inches from where I stood. The loud smack made by the shoes and the level of her sudden fury terrified me and I took a step back from her.
She stood in front of me in her red dress, looking furious, beautiful and dangerous. Ms. Werner grabbed my shoulders and slammed me viciously against the wall, pressing my body against it with her own. Face to face, she painfully mashed her pelvis into mine and started grinding her body against me in an up-and-down, side-to-side motion. The pressure she was exerting was incredible; I felt as if my insides were being compacted. I pushed back, but my strength was nothing compared to hers.
Without warning, she brought her right hand up and cracked me roughly across the face with an open hand. My entire body recoiled with pain and I would have been knocked to the ground had Ms. Werner’s body not been pinning me to the wall. She was a couple of inches taller than I and her forehead was mashed against my cheekbone, making movement impossible.
Then, amazingly, she bent her knees slightly and began lifting my body into the air with her own. She didn’t use her hands to raise me; they were braced against the wall to increase the pressure on my body, and she needed only her pelvis to raise me inexorably from the floor. It hurt brutally, yet was stimulating in a way that was totally alien to me. Her teeth clenched, Ms. Werner mashed her womanhood against mine and pressed as hard as she could, rotating her hips all the while to increase both the pressure and eroticism. Waves of pain/pleasure wracked my body as she used her crotch to grind away at mine. My mind felt only terror but my body was responding with lust to this feeling of dark joy. It was a coarse, earthy type of gratification borne of rough sex. I was airborne. No guy had ever done this to me, and I wouldn’t have thought that a woman would be able to. Yet, it was happening.
Pain and passion were fighting for supremacy in my body. My head drooped down and I was able to see her feet and mine. She had risen on her toes and was pushing to raise even higher, those toes being white with strain from bearing the weight of both our bodies. I could see my own feet, dangling helplessly two inches off the ground. I had been trying to push her off, but the realization of her power and supremacy over me was draining my will, leaving me incapacitated, both mentally and physically. I was helpless to resist her.
I could hear her grunting with effort and pleasure. From far off, I could also hear someone whimpering and I wondered where the sound was coming from…. until I realized it was me.
“I’ll teach you to force an orgasm from me,” shrilled Ms. Werner, and even as she said it, my own fluids overflowed. I began to sob uncontrollably as my climax imparted itself to her. She shivered in answer to the tremors that wracked my body. She emitted a feral, triumphant growl.
Ms. Werner backed off and let my feet touch the ground. I wanted to slide to the floor in submission, but she placed her hand under my chin and kept me in a standing position. Then, to my utter shock, she raised the hem of her dress a couple of inches and thrust her right leg forward and upward; as if she were performing a high-kick. She placed her foot squarely under my jaw and pushed upward. Through my tears, I saw her put hands on her hips and glare triumphantly as she held me in place with her foot. Not needing her hands to control me, she used her fists to deliver several brutal, thudding punches to my stomach, draining me of my breath and my will. Her strength and determination were unbelievable, daunting. If I had possessed any ability to fight back, it was now gone. I wept in defeat and hopelessness. My dreams of dominating a teacher had turned to horror. Through my breathless gasps, I pleaded for mercy.
“Please, Ms. Werner.” I sobbed. “Please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for what I did in the classroom. Please don’t hurt me any more! Please!!”I was numb with pain and fear. Ms. Werner could easily have called off the beating at this point, but had obviously decided that being defied by a student called for more punishment than she had already meted out. She used her rapier-like fists to pound away at my chest and stomach; each blow digging into me like a steam-shovel, causing me to hope for death or unconsciousness to free me from this torture. She kept her foot against my jaw to keep me standing in place, pinning my head painfully to the wall behind me, negating any chance I might have to try and free myself. My mind told me to fight back, but all I could do was sob in defeat and terror.
“As I said, Kayla, nothing is going to happen to you because of what went on today. But nothing is going to happen to me, either. I intentionally didn’t leave a mark on you, did you notice? You just stay out of my way for the next week until you graduate……and then, never let me see you again, as long as you live. Is that understood?”
In desperation, I tried to nod my agreement, but her foot against my jaw held me solidly in place. After another thirty seconds of enjoying her supremacy, she stood back, watching me with glee. I sank to the floor, pressing myself against the wall in a fruitless effort to disappear from her sight. I held my arm out toward her in a pathetic warding-off effort. My sobs filled the world; I had no honor left to defend.
“You were fighting out of your weight class today, honey,” said Ms. Werner, now smiling coldly at me as she left the room. “Lock up when you leave.”
It took almost a half-hour before I could trust my legs to carry me. I left the office, wanting to go back to the classroom to get my sneakers, but afraid Ms. Werner might still be there.
The last school bus had already left and my house was three miles away, but I walked home barefoot rather than risk crossing her path again. As I walked, I cast backward glances, afraid that Ms. Werner might be following.
**************************
Now, ten years have passed. I’ve accomplished much in my life: I’ve gone to college, earned a teaching degree, and run track events in the Olympics.
So much is good.
Still, although I never saw Ms. Werner again after that day in high school, I’m forever looking behind me…..fearful she might be approaching from the rear. It’s a fear that might stay with me the rest of my life……
