Schoolboy to Schoolgirl

# Note: This story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex. All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older.

Your sweet, round bottom aches with each lash of the wooden ruler. My threats echo in your ears... *If you don't behave, you will fail my class. If you don't do as I say, you will never pass your senior year.*

"You could be *so* pretty," I coo, spreading gloss across your lips. Your kohl-lined eyes shine with anger. "Yes, hate me; that will help," I murmur with a chuckle. "Close your eyes." They snap shut at my stern tone. Mascara slides against your lashes and blush across your cheeks. Pink-tinted lips tremble, part.

The boys' school uniform looks incongruous against your freshly painted face. You glance nervously at the door, again. Worried someone will see. Hoping maybe someone will save you. "No one is here," I mock. "Strip. Bend over. Spread your legs." I slide the beige ruler between your lips. "Stay." Fingertips dance down your spine, nape to base. The sound of my heels clip across the room behind you; the door hangs ajar. A slight breeze blows on your exposed derriere. You shiver.

Drool drips from your mouth, faster and faster. A glance out of the corner of your eye reveals a bundle in my arms. I take the ruler and gently wipe away the spit trailing down your chin. Retouch your makeup. Slip off my panties. "Put them on." At your hesitation, my eyebrow raises. You hurry to answer my silent rebuke.

I cup the swollen meat between your legs, the caress rough, then gentle. I laugh derisively. "You are a *bad* boy," I tease. "And apparently a filthy whore as well. This is *punishment*, slut." I perch on the edge of my desk. Spread my legs. Expose my bare cunt to your gaze. "Tell me how wearing my panties makes you feel."

"I hate it," you whisper, mouth dry. A cruel twist of my lips. My face looms large as I move closer.

"*LIAR.*" With sharp words and gestures, I direct you to stand and walk away from me. You navigate the rows of desks. "Twirl. Strike a pose for me." You obey, mortified. But your cock... is so, so hard.

I stalk after you; force you forward over a desk. Spit on your ass hole. You jerk away unsuccessfully. I shove you violently down. Your face slams against the cold surface of the desk. "Struggle and it WILL hurt."

Silence. A slick digit probes your sensitive flesh.

"What is my finger touching, sissy boy?" I breathe, my voice a warm puff against your temple.

"M-my ass hole," you stutter.

"Wrong, my pretty. This is your *pussy*."

My finger slips deeper and you jerk at the foreign sensation. Your muscles flex.

The other hand reaches for your dick. "And this?"

"My p-penis?"

"No, no. Wrong again. This is your *clitty*." Two fingers stroke up and then down the underside, pushing your clitty against your lower belly. Then they were gone. You're angry at yourself when your hips twitch toward my departing touch. Your body recoils against the instinct, which opens your pussy wider to my exploration. My breath catches. *Yes.*

"Repeat after me: 'I'm a sissy.'"

"I'm-" Your voice cracks. You swallow. "a sissy."

My lips curve. "Please fuck my pussy.'"

Your tongue darts to moisten dry lips. You swallow. A bare rasp of sound. "Please fuck my pussy."

I stand, almost lunging erect. My hand withdraws then sinks deep. "Again."

Stronger this time: "I'm a sissy." A gasp. You swallow. The briefest pause. "Please fuck my pussy."

"*AGAIN,*" I hiss.

"I'm a sissy! Please fuck my pussy."

You don't mean it. *Yet.* Maybe you really do hate this. *And?* I move away, with purpose.

The warmth gone, you feel... empty. Bereft, for a moment. Not for long. A sharp tug of your short-cropped brown hair pulls you back to your feet. You look at me, fear and a bit of loathing in your eyes. I slap your face. My hand -- warm, damp, and still smelling of your pussy -- grasps your throat.

"You are obviously not convinced yet, little GIRL."

I shove you towards the bundle I had abandoned when I came back in the room. You stumble, but quickly regain your footing.

"Put it on."

First: a white button-up shirt. Your arms sag a bit in relief. Soon. It's going to be over soon. Your torso covered, you turn back to the pile. Long white socks. I smirk at your furrowed brow. Then... A short, pleated skirt. Horror dawns on your face. I smile, very satisfied. I motion for you to continue. Finally, a pair of black Mary Jane shoes.

I approach. You shudder. I grab your clitty. Still rock hard.

Reaching behind you, I retrieve a brush to comb your hair into a more feminine style. Parted on the right. Then I clip a thin decorative hair pin adorned with a bow into the short strands. I beam. You shudder. Your thoughts run wild. *It feels so wrong but you're about to explode and it's so confusing and you love it and Ms. M is so pretty when she's being mean like this. Why is she so pretty?*

I peer into your green eyes, capturing your frantic gaze with my own. "I will call you Kay. You're not Kristian anymore. That was your boy name."

I tug you towards the hallway. Dawning realization fuels your struggle. "No! Someone will see. Please no, Ms. M! Whatever you want, I'll do it!"

"Shut. Up. I want you to see yourself." I pull you into the hall. Your shoulders sag in defeat. If you continue to protest, you'll only draw more attention. I hold your hand as we walk towards the restrooms, two pairs of heels clicking on the linoleum. We both hear the creaking wheels at the same time. You freeze. I laugh. "Stay exactly where you are," I say. A light squeeze and your hand is free.

I turn. "Oh hello, Harry! Finishing up for the day?" Every second that passes heightens your awareness. The patent leather shoes pinch your toes just a wee bit. The waistband of your skirt scrapes gently against the tip of your clitty when you swish your hips just a eensie weensie bit. You bite your lip. Swish again. Toes curl. Thighs flex. Your heart seems to both slow and speed up at the same time.

"Don't worry about my classroom, I'll straighten it myself. I still have a student in detention." A gruff reply about poorly behaved students. "If these girls weren't so bad, I wouldn't have to punish them!"

You almost moan, suppress it with a sharp exhale. Squeeze your eyes shut. The throbbing between your legs has become almost unbearable. Every thing feels warm. Tight. Rather than less aroused at your near discovery, you are more so. You swish again. A weak attempt to disguise the motion by shifting your hips fails. *I see you.*

The wheels creak on and your hand starts to move between your legs. Inwardly, I warm, knowing you're ready. Externally, I slap the offending limb, hard. An exasperated sigh. "Behave, slut."

We reach the lavatories. You move towards the boys' room. I say, loudly, unafraid of being overheard, as you move towards them, "The only reason girls go into the boys' room is to get used, sissy. Do you want to get *fucked*?"

You freeze and jerk your body towards the girls' room. "N-no Ms. M."

"I'm not so sure..." I tsk softly. "But we will get there..." We enter the girls' room. I linger in the doorway to watch you catch your first glimpse in the mirror. You stare. Swollen lips part in shock.

Your hand jerks toward your aching sex. "What are you doing, you greedy little whore?"

You stop, confused. "Touching my cock, Ms. M."

"Wrong. We've been over this. You don't have a cock." I move behind you and raise your skirt. The panties do little to shield your sensitive bits from view. "You have a clitty. And when you want to rub your desperate, swollen *clitty*, you must ask *permission*."

Your head falls back. You shudder under the onslaught of shame and desire. I enjoy your suffering. "Please," you whisper, finally. "Please may I touch m-my clitty." I open my mouth to speak as you rush to finish. "Ms. M. Please may I touch my clitty, Ms. M."

My left hand moves to gently guide your neck straight again. "Yes, but you really must enjoy the show. I insist. The hand at your nape drifts back to tuck the hem of the skirt into the waistband, then tugs the panties down. Your clitty swings free. "There now. Watch that pretty girl in the mirror stroke herself. And DO NOT come without permission."

You require no further encouragement. Your eyes wide, you lick your hand and start to massage yourself. In less than a minute your clitty is ready to burst. "Ms. M!" You gasp, staring at the wide-eyed slut in the mirror. "May I come?!"

"May your sissy bitch come," I murmur. I can't help but flush at your desperation.

"May your sissy bitch come?!"

"Permission granted. Aim for your face in the mirror."

You explode at my last word. In the reflection, spurts of cum seem to cover your face and chest. You shudder and whimper and grow still, eyes drifting closed.

You feel a hand over yours, where it still rests between your legs. Moving in a gentle circle, I trap your clitty against those quivering thighs.

"You know what I like about sissy sluts?" Your eyes flutter open. *Yes, that's you.* You're crimson from your hairline all the way down into your chest. Humiliated. I love it. "They can't get enough. You just came, in the girls' bathroom, moaning like a whore. And... you're already getting swollen again." You realize it's true, even as I say the words.

"Look at yourself." Your obey. And there's your face, covered in cum. Your clitty swells to its full size at the torrid sight. I laugh, a velvety sound with a sharp edge. "Oh, you will do *nicely*." I step back slightly, for leverage.

"Lick. It. Up." You startle. I push your face against the glass, smearing the makeup with cum. "LICK. IT. UP." You lap furiously, any charade that you don't want this gone completely. Lick and suck and rub your cheek against the cold surface. When every last drop is gone, you seek me out in the mirror. "Thank you Ms. M."

My eyes widen at the surrender apparent on your face. Grabbing you by the throat, I pull you back and throw you roughly away from the sink. With two long strides, I close in on my prey. I push you to the ground, my body riding you down. Before you can react to the air knocked out of you, I envelope your clitty in my dripping wet cunt. I ride you hard, a firm grip on your neck. Hard slaps on your cheeks bring your focus back to me when you try to close your eyes.

"Fuck!" My hips jerk up and down, pussy milking your clitty. "You're such a hot little bitch," I grunt. "Where have you been hiding???"

The cement floor cold against your back. The smell of bathroom cleaner burning in your nostrils. Ms. M, fully-clothed, riding you hard and fast filling your entire field of vision. Cum sticky on your tongue. Moans echoing against the institutional tile. Your cock- no! Your *clitty* throbbed like never before. Every sense, completely overwhelmed.

"What a whore. What a filthy dirty whore," I say harshly. You nod convulsively against my hand on your throat. "Getting fucked on the bathroom floor. The GIRLS' bathroom floor. Do you like it? Do you love being a cum-licking sissy slut?" Your eyes widen, but you don't say it. I strike your face, very hard. "Say. It."

The words burst out of you violently, much more loudly than you intended. A shout, "Yes! Yes I love it! I love being a dirty filthy cum licking sissy bitch!" As the word "bitch" leaves your mouth I reach my own orgasm, gasping and moaning. The jerking and tightening of my cunt pushes you over the edge. I feel the spasms as you pump a huge load of sissy cum deep inside me. We both freeze.

My head swivels towards you, almost in slow motion. Horror dawns on your face. "Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I'm so sorry Ms. M. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You start crying, tears dripping down your face, stricken by an intense sadness at having disobeyed. You don't understand. You hate this perverted bitch. But it feels so wrong to have that angry gaze weigh down on you.

I dismount your hips with a jerk. Your limp clitty flops back against your taut abs. I crawl up over your chest, dripping cum all over you on the way. I hover over your face, knees hugging either ear. You flinch away from the cum splattering your face. "You're going to lick my pussy clean of your mistake, *sissy*." You swallow. "Then I'm going to take you back to the classroom and I'm going to explain to you how this is going to work." I pause. "If you don't behave, I will tie you to a toilet and leave you there for the girls to find tomorrow."

Fear. Desire. Resentment. Desperation. Wonder. Devotion. A look of muted disgust twists your features as you move toward my pussy. "Yes Ms. M. I will make it up to you. I promise. Even if it means I have to let you use me and dress me up like a girl every day at detention. I'll do it if I have to." Your last words are muffled as my pussy covers your lips.

I chuckle, "If you *have* to, indeed."