Teaching Teacher

Miss Simms couldn't look up to meet the audacious girl's eyes, nor those of the embarrassed clerk. She couldn't bring herself to say anything in response.

"If you want me to wear them for you," Heather said. "Then buy them for me."

"I-I-don't know if I have enough money," Miss Simms stammered. More and more the woman's voice was changing. The authoritative and eloquent teacher's voice was long gone. Now it was resembling the high-pitched timbre of a someone much younger. Someone much much younger than twenty six.

Miss Simms opened her new purse that was purchased from Goodwill the day before. She had no wallet. Just a bunch of ones and change lumped into the bottom of her purse. Six dollars for the panty. Twenty-five for the bra. Thirty one. She fumbled through the ones. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her breathing began to speed. Her voice, her voice was almost husky when she replied. "I think I have enough ...for the small one...Miss Morgan."

Once it was out, she realized she had called the girl Miss Morgan. This clerk. God, she would know that there was more to this relationship than two lesbian girls. She'd know that one was dominant and the other was submissive. That she was submissive.

"Why don't you ask the nice woman if she will ring it up for you?" Heather suggested.

Miss Simms turned to the young woman. The girl looked to be in her twenties, probably a college student, while Miss Simms was a graduate. A teacher.

But from the dark skinned beauty's body language, no one would have ever suspected. The way she bit her lower lip. The way she looked kept her gaze cast down so timidly, and glance up only when necessary. The way she said nothing as the girl behind her possessively over her neck, down her spine, and then to rest on her tight bottom. politely said, "Miss, could you...could you please ring this up?"

"Ahhh..sure," the clerk said, still unsure of these two customers. And her opinion of them didn't get any better. Especially this petite little black girl. Watching the girl dig into her purse and take out thirty crumpled dollar bills, unfold them and hand them over. God, next came the change. Counting it out. The poor things hand were shaking. She was clearly embarrassed, as well she should be. Hardly anyone paid in cash, not here. And no one, no one had ever dug into their change. The girl was probably on food stamps..and this was how she chose to blow her money. On expensive skimpy underclothes.

The clerk couldn't but notice the girl's clothes. And there wasn't much to them. A pink tank top with some sort of design the was popular three years ago and a tight pink denim mini that was faded and slightly thread bare. The girl didn't need to be buying expensive panties. And especially not for the young white girl that stood close by. Her clothes were nearly new, and they were expensive.

What was the deal with these two? The only scenario she could imagine was that the black girl didn't think she could do better. That she was probably giving up money she needed, to impress this girl she was with. It wasn't right.

"Don't worry about the change," the clerk said. "I'll ring you up with my discount. Just don't tell anyone."

"Thank the nice lady," Heather said. "It was very nice of her to give you her discount."

"Thank you miss," Miss Simms stammered. "I really...appreciate it."

It should feel nice getting a discount. But somehow it didn't. It felt humiliating. Degrading. And yet...she was hot. Wet. What was wrong with her?

Then they went to the bookstore and Miss Simms was given further instructions.

"Please Miss Morgan," the young teacher begged. "I can't do that. Please..."

"Fine then," Heather said and took out the phone.

"Okay..." Miss Simms said. "I'll do it." Then headed to the counter.

She headed for the counter, picking the one manned by a girl in her early twenties. She look middle eastern, so it was a safe bet she'd never been to the private school she taught at.

"Miss..." Miss Simms stammered, feeling her face burn with humiliation. "I'd like ..ah..what sort of magazines to you have behind the counter."

"We have all sorts," the girl responded.

"Do you have any with just girls," Miss Simms said. "But not playboy."

"We have Hustler."

"I'll...take it." It was one of the hardest requests Miss Simms had ever made.

"You have to be eighteen," the girl said. "Do you have id?"

Miss Simms fumbled through her purse, but Heather had removed her id along with all her credit cards.

"No ma'am." Miss Simms said. "I must have left it at home. Look...I need that magazine....please...I swear I'm old enough. I'm twenty-six."

"Nice try kid," the lady said. "Come back with your id. A real one - not fake."

Crestfallen, Miss Simms went back to Heather, failing in her task. Praying the girl wouldn't send anything from her phone that could embarrass her.

"They- they wouldn't sell it to me.." Miss Simms said. "Not without my id."

"And why was that?" Heather smiled.

"I...I looked too young..." And when she said it, the realization struck home. She didn't look twenty-six. She looked like a high school girl.

"That's right. As long as I have your id, no will would ever thing that you are more than some other high school girl. Okay, I'll let you slide on that one. Now one last place," Heather said, and took her teacher to the drug store and handed her a few more dollars. "Here's what I want you to buy. And two other things. You'll have to ask for them. I hear they keep them behind the counter."

Heather left her there in the store alone. She looked at the contents in her basket. 3 fleet enemas. Oh God, and the instructions for the last item!

Her knees felt as if they could barely support her weight as she walked up to the pharmacy counter.

"Excuse me ma'am," Miss Simms said.

"Yes?" the clerk answered.

Miss Simms leaned over the counter and said softly, "I was wondering if I could purchase a personal massager."

The woman looked into the contents of her basket. Miss Simms swore she could here the girl snicker.

"Sure." And the woman went to the display and returned with one. The wrong one. A back massager.

"Here you are young lady," the clerk said as she put it on the counter.

The woman knew it was wrong. she was having fun at Miss Simm's expense. The young teacher felt her cheeks grow hot.

"I need - I need the other one," Miss Simms stammered.

"Are you sure," the clerk sneered. "This one is quite relaxing."

"I need the other," Miss Simms .

"This one?"

"No miss," the teacher said. The woman was toying with her. That was a damned seat cushion. Next was a pad to rest your feet on. There was no hope for it. "That one. The one on the bottom shelf. The...ahh...the pleasure-izer."

The clerk grinned and put it on the counter. Then looked into Miss Simms basket, before the teacher could put it behind her back.

"I suppose you'll be needing some lube to go with that then."

"Yes," Miss Simms said before she caught herself. How had the girl known the other item she was to request? Then she thought of the vibe and the contents of her basket. Surely not? But what other reason? Oh God, and now this girl knew. Knew what kinky games Heather had in mind.

Miss Simms had assumed that the vibe would be used on her sex. But Heather meant to...put it in her butt. Yet instead of horrifying her, the thought...the thought made her loins dance, even as her cheeks blushed, even as she counted out the one dollar bills and change for her purchase. Even as the girl shook her head and mumbled, "You can't be serious- little freak."

This girl wasn't nice. There were no discounts. No double bagging of the embarrassing purchase.

Only when Miss Simms left did she contemplate her actions. Why had she gone through with it? She should be fighting Heather. Working on getting out of this horrible situation, not meekly accepting every humiliating demand.

But then she was outside the store and there was Heather. Pulling her close. Feeling her up. Nibbling her ear. God, the girl knew which buttons to press.

"Did you get them?" Heather asked.

"Yes..Miss," Miss Simms whispered.

"I'm wearing the panties you bought me," Heather said. "Do you want to see them?"

"Yes Miss Morgan," Miss Simms breathed.

"If you do, then you have to do something for me," Heather said. "Something dirty."

"What?" Miss Simms gasped as Heather's searching fingers touched her bottom through the weave of her skirt. Then Miss Simms felt her chin lifted, and a tongue pressed between her lips. And Miss Simms met its advances with her own. Then kept her lips parted as she accepted the girl's saliva. All the while praying that no one would recognize her.

Soon the teacher found herself in the restroom. There were more instructions to follow. These weren't the sort of things that her friends had ever talked about. An enema? Those things happened, but for another reason entirely. They weren't a part of sex. She had no experience with these sorts of things.

First off, the tip burned as it penetrated her bottom. Then she discovered it wasn't so easy to get the stuff up inside her. She had her best luck by squatting on the toilet and inserting it from the bottom and squeezing. The liquid burned. And it felt cold. She felt full. Uncomfortable.

She dialed Heather.

"Yes," Heather said.

"I've done it." Miss Simms said. "Just like you asked.

"Good girl," Heather said. "Now hold it. I'll call you when it's time."

"But it's cramping.." Miss Simms said, but the line was dead. She continued to hold it. She began to sweat. How long must she continue? Why didn't she just release? Heather would never know.

The phone rang. Miss Simms quickly answered.

"Are you holding it?" Heather asked.

"Yes Miss," it came out in a groan.

"You can let it go now."

"Oh God," Miss Simms grunted as she voided her bowels. She had imagined the sense of relief she would feel for these long minutes of holding it in. However, it didn't feel so much like relief. It felt...Oh God, another cramp hit, and then another.

"Are you finished?" Heather asked.

"I think so," Miss Simms replied, but in truth she wasn't sure.

"Then give yourself another enema," Heather said. "I want you squeaky clean."

Miss Simms was reluctant to obey after her experience with the first enema. However, the next proved much easier, and the last was no trouble at all. This time her phone buzzed, but instead of a call, Heather had sent a picture.

It was a picture of Heather. The pretty blond was wearing nothing but the panties and bra Miss Simms had purchase earlier, save her shoes and socks. The bra was not only see through, but much too small. It pushed the girls well-endowed breasts up high on her chests giving her a pronounced cleavage. Like-wise, the small thong had slipped between the lips of the girl's sex..making a cute and kinky pout with her nether lips. She held her phone in one hand and the vibe in another. She used the mirror in another restroom to take the photo. At the bottom of the photo was a message.

"Do you want it?"

Want what? Heather or the vibe she held teasingly to her lips?

In truth she wanted both.

"Yes," she texted back. It was more evidence that could be used against her, but at this point did she really care anymore? No, she was in it now. All the way.

"Then show me where you want it." Heather texted.

Nervously, Miss Simms unlatched the door and threw away the empty enema bottles. What she was about to do was bad enough, she had no desire to compound matters with additional evidence lying around.

She had a few moments to contemplate what she was about to do. Show me where you want it. Miss Simms thought about raising up her skirt to show her student her very wet and hungry sex. But the beast in her wanted something else. Something more. It was the beast that made Miss Simms strip off her skirt and tank top. That led her to quickly open the stall door and prop one foot on the toilet. To arch her back. To reach her hand back and take hold of the firm cheek of her bottom and pull it apart. To show off her tight crater. To take a picture with her other hand.

The teacher quickly shut the door lest someone come in. Then with trembling fingers she forwarded the picture. Her finger hesitated on the send button. This would be it. This would be additional evidence that could be used against her. She shouldn't. She knew full well she shouldn't. By God, she was an adult. A trained professional. But she was helpless to the beast inside her. The beast that pushed send.

'My ass. I've given her my ass.' Miss SImms thought. And now she was plagued by doubt. Would it hurt? Was it too late to send a text message saying she didn't want to do it after all?

But Heather had no doubts. On seeing the picture the girl knew exactly what she wanted. A part of her urged her to wait. To make her pet stew for awhile. That's what usually happened in the stories. But in the stories the main character was as hard as iron and getting sent a dirty picture from their teacher didn't make turn them on so ...didn't possess them with such need. She looked down at her phone again. Ah...that hot little body. That tight little ass. The look in her teacher's eye. The need.

Heather's legs were a blur as she rushed back to where she left her teacher. She didn't bother to knock.

"Let me in," she said as she tugged on the door. "Hurry."

And then she was in. She had planned to tease her teacher. To show her new bra and panties. To tease her teacher with the vibe. To get her hot with it. Then to start teasing her ass with it. But those plans were dashed once Miss Simms sent that photo. Offering her ass from the outset.

Heather captured the woman in her arms. Forcing her tongue into her teacher's mouth. Biting her neck. Kneading the cheeks of her bottom as if she owned them.

"You ready for it?" Heather asked, her voice husky with lust.

"Yes," Miss Simms gasped.

"You ready for that dick?" Heather teased. "You ready to be fucked?"

"Yes..yes..." Miss Simms moaned.

"You need it don't you?" Heather continued. "You need that dick. Tell me where you need it."

The teacher shrugged her shoulders. The beast that had possessed her had gone into hiding. Now she just felt....afraid.

"So coy all of a sudden?" Heather asked. "The photo you sent wasn't very coy at all. It was a nasty little perverted photo. What happened hmmm?"

Oh this was going better than Heather hoped. Things were back according to plan. And were perhaps even better than she had planned.

"I'm scared," Miss SImms breathed. "I've heard...I've heard that it will hurt."

"Oh pet," Heather said. "It's supposed to hurt....and you're supposed to like it. Now turn around."

Miss Simms turned around and leaned forward, supporting her weight with her hands on the toilet seat. A tremble went down her spine.

Heather turned on the vibe and touched it to her teacher's crater, causing it to clench in response.

"Such a filthy little hole," Heather said. "Did you get it nice and clean for me?"

"Yes Miss Morgan," the teacher replied. The vibe felt cold when it touched her. The touch was forbidden, it was taboo, it also made her loins melt like butter.

Heather moved the vibe to her teacher's very wet sex, teasing the woman's lips, making her moan and swoon. Then without further ado, she plunged it in with one long stroke.

"Rena loves a dildo, doesn't she?" Heather teased. "That nigger pussy is hungry for some plastic dick isn't it?"

Miss Simms pushed her hips back in response. Yes. God yes, it felt good.

However, instead of the fucking she had hoped to receive, the vibe was withdrawn, leaving her empty inside, and now was teasing her once again.

Miss Simms moved her hips back further, yet the vibe was withdrawn even further. The girl was purposefully teasing her. The teacher gave a mewl.

"Please..." Miss Simms begged.

"I want to hear you say it," Heather said, and with a smirk as she continued to tease her teacher, she grasped the lube in her other hand and opened the top with her teeth. She had a plan, and she wanted to be prepared.

"I want It," Miss Simms begged, her cheeks burning in response. "I want to be fucked."

"You should listen better pet," Heather said. "That wasn't what I said. Rena loves a...what does little Rena love."

Oh God. Now she was at the crux of it. Miss Simms had heard, but her mind hadn't registered. However, now it did.

"A ....a dildo." Miss Simms said haltingly. A dildo. Not a cock. A fake cock. A sex toy for lesbians. And here she was...begging for one. Yes, she had ... pleasured this girl. Had played sex games with her. But now...now it came crashing home. She was...she was ...

"Good girl,' Heather said. The young girl inserted the tip of the vibe into her teacher's wet sex. Then she began to fuck her with shallow strokes. "Now say the whole thing like a good pet."

"I-"

"Not I. But Rena. Now say it." Heather purred.

"Rena." Serena Simms already knew full well that she wasn't an equal in her relationship with this young girl. This girl that was her student. It was made apparent by how the girl addressed her so casually, and yet she, the teacher, was expected to say Miss Morgan. Now this. It seemed like such a small thing when she thought about it. But saying the words. Rena. Addressing herself in third person. It felt as if - as if she had taken yet another step down a ladder. further and further into a pit where the worm inside her lay.

"Please...." the teacher whispered. "Rena loves...Rena loves a dildo."

"Good girl," Heather said as she withdrew the vibe and inserted the top of the bottle of lube and gave a good squeeze. "and Rena's nigger pussy is hungry for...tell Miss Morgan what it's hungry for."

A cold feeling, a squishy feeling was spreading in her sex. It must be the lube. God, she was on fire. The worm inside her was fully awake now. Miss Simms didn't have a prayer to resist. The words began to spill.

"Rena's nigger pussy is hungry for that plastic dick." This time Miss Simms didn't feel the flush of her cheeks. The only flush of heat she felt was in her loins. Nothing mattered now. Nothing at all, save quenching the flames burning in her sex. And it was being quenched. The girl was working the vibe now. Fucking her pussy for all she was worth.

"Oh God yes," the teacher moaned. "Give it to me. Give it to Rena. God it feels so good."

Heather smiled and removed the vibe once again. Leaving her teacher gasping and teetering on the edge of orgasm. This time instead of teasing the woman's sex, she touched the tip of the bottle of lube to her asshole.

"And that nigger ass?" Heather asked, giving the bottle of lube a squeeze, removing it, then placing the vibe there now. Before, that crater had been resistant, but now it was soft as butter and the tip slipped in easily.

It was much too late to resist now. Miss Simms had given herself over to the pleasure. To the beast that lay dormant inside her and this beast of a girl who had wakened it. And the beast grew stronger as the vibe was pushed into her tight asshole. God, so tight. It made her feel so full. Full to bursting. Maybe this would quence the fire that burned within.

"Rena loves it. Rena love plastic dildos in her hot ...hot nigger ass." Miss Simms didn't understand these feelings. She had always been taught not to say that word. Her parents, her parents would have spanked her had they heard her. It should have been mortifying, yet saying it was somehow liberating.

"Stick it..." Miss Simms moaned, thrusting her hips back. "Stick it in my nigger asshole." It did hurt, but Heather had been right. It felt good. Damn good. All she needed now was just a few strokes on her clit, and life would be complete.

Miss Simm's supported her weight with one arm, and the other drifted to the hot core between her legs. However, before she could get to business, she heard the slap of flesh on flesh and a sting on the cheek of her bottom.