Vanessa at the Track	Back to E	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
updated april 16 - 2010

>> Mattwatt stories

WARNING: This story contains strong themes of coercion and forced
sexual behavior. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only,
and the writer does not in any way suggest or condone similar
behavior.


MF+/f, cons, D/S, humil exhib, bnd, Gang Bang, interr


Vanessa at the Track
By Mattwatt

wattmattwatt43@gmail.com

The room was quiet except for her periodic sighs. Vanessa Smith sat at her computer, the screen lighting the room around her, and furnishing her with a kind of a halo effect that she surely wouldn’t have thought that she deserved.
She was reading stories. Reading stories was a kind of a passion for Vanessa Smith. But that was only part of it all. She sat at the computer, deep into one of her favorite story sites, wearing only a pair of tiny bikini panties. They were red with black lace trim. They were somewhere in the neighborhood of sexy or tacky, she could never decide which.

But the panties and the stories were two of the ‘dirty’ things that Vanessa allowed herself. She was a teacher, history, social studies and civics at a local high school. She had a reputation as both hard and reserved. The kids called her ‘Iron pants’. Of course Vanessa knew what they called her. Very little escaped her attention. And she worked among those kids to maintain that very stiff, standoffish kind of reputation.

But to herself, for herself, with herself it was Vanessa here, in front of the computer at a favorite sex story site, reading stories about her favorite ‘dirty’ thing: being black and being sexually submissive.

(And ‘yes’ it made the sexual submission more delicious to fantasize that she was being actively submissive to some of her students. There was a group of girls in her U.S. History class loosely called ‘the runners’. They were the ones. They were athletes. They all played girl’s soccer. They were the ones that Vanessa, old Iron pants, longed to be dominated by.)

She sighed again trying to lock or at least push such thoughts away from her. But right now she only wanted to suppress all of that mental wrangling so that she cold concentrate on what she was reading.

She slipped an inactive hand inside the waist band of her frilly red panties, seeking through the curly fronds of her pussy hair the center of pleasure that she wanted.

The story was about a woman named Jane who encountered a group of african american girls at the mall. Jane was pursued by the girls and gave in to her submissive side to become a kind of sex toy for them.

Vanessa loved the story, the type of story but she wanted it the other way.

“It should be the runners,” she thought to herself that were making me the dirty sex doll. “It’s lovely but it’s just the other way around.”

She hesitated just a moment, and then her thoughts plunged on: “It’s the runners that should discover the kind of panties, sexy panties that I always wear to school. They should find me out and then they’d know what I’m like.”

Just then thoughts of her kneeling in front of those athletic, maybe snotty white teen agers flitted across her psyche but she suppressed the thought and went on reading and playing with herself.

Such thought ground through Vanessa’s mind, as she continued to read and play with herself.

As the story got to the point where the hapless Jane was stripped naked by the girls. It was then that Vanessa’s busy fingers reached her wanted fever pitch and she began to buck, wiggle and jump in her chair with her orgasm.

She leaned back and sighed deeply, disturbed with how much she loved those thoughts and ideas. She shut off the computer for the night and also barely shut off her brain.

She put herself into the shower and luxuriated with the heat and the water. It felt good. With no thought prior at all, her fingers stole into the area of her curly haired pussy. She slid fingers in and out, once again enjoying the heat of it. The story, and the nearness of it to her own fixation, lingered in her mind. She came again under the water, and from the press of her fingers. She ended with one hand in her pussy, and the other pulling at the sensitive tip of her coffee brown nipple, hard with almost a life of its own.

Then she slipped into bed naked. She didn’t always do this but there were times, when she was just feeling sensuous. Tonight was such a night. The story had certainly focused her imagination.

Tomorrow was school. Vanessa was always prepared. She liked the teaching. She did it well. She was an effective teacher. She knew those things.

It was also true that at the school she again became ‘Iron pants’. She left the quivering, sexy, panty wearing submissive at home in front of her computer, for the most part.

There was, of course, one way in which Vanessa still let the sexy submissive out. It was the way that she allowed herself to look at the girls. The boys were not so much of an interest. It was the girls that held her attention.

She realized that in this respect she was just like a teen aged boy. She liked to look the girls over, and didn’t miss a chance from her point of view.

By virtue of her experience and discipline she was always able to direct the class, keep it focused, and still allow her mind these little ‘vacations’ that she sought.

She noticed things. This was what she meant about being like a teenaged boy. She noticed nipples that were poking out from soft bras, and blouses or tee shirts that didn’t bother to hide such things.

She also noticed the back edge of panties, when the girls bent over. There was the occasional thong poking out above the waist band of hip hugger jeans. It was too delicious for Vanessa. She could let her mind wander down those kinds of lanes but would periodically pull herself back immediately.

Then this new sense of discipline was frequently overwhelmed by the site of a bit of ass crack showing above the waist band of those same style jeans.

But Vanessa didn’t reveal herself. She was cautious, she was careful. But she frequently got home in the evening with the thought in mind of taking a bit of time off later to peruse the stories on one of her favorite on line story sites.

And during her teaching days she most often had the ‘ace in the hole,’ as she thought of it, of wearing her colorful, frequently outrageous panties. These were, as often as not, not merely a matter of being in style, and therefore flashy. No, the panties that Vanessa frequently chose were wild colored bikinis, often with lace, mostly black. They were what she called, in her moments of clear headedness, and understanding her ‘slut panties.’

Certainly every day was good for at least one little bit of private thought about what these upper class, or middle class girls would think, if they’d known that ‘Iron pants’ was in fact wearing very slutty panties. It always caused a smile, rarely a giggle, ‘Iron pants’ didn’t giggle at all.

Such things were all a part of the comfortable mental world that Vanessa had in effect woven around herself. That mental world allowed her all of the observation that she wished. She could blandly, blank facedly look on and note the little discoveries every day: nipples through that shirt, the back of a thong as a girl bent forward, the waist band of a pair of panties showing above the waist of low slung jeans. It was all a jumble but a circus of a jumble that she saw, that she catalogued and that she enjoyed.

These were the little nuances of classroom life that she reflected on, as she sat in her computer chair at night, dressed in her special panties and reading stories that would inevitably lead to the invasion of her fingers down the front of her panties and into and amid the hair of her curly pussy.

The world worked. That’s what she knew. She became, in effect, that same ‘iron pants’ that her reputation called her. Anything that might disturb this small self proclaimed mental city of hers was simply banished to the far distant past.

“And better left there,” Vanessa said to herself with a rueful smile.

Then in class one day, as the students were bent at their computers working on a history assignment, there came a message: “I know!”

Vanessa just stared at the message for a few moments. It was sent anonymously. She was stunned by the simplicity of it, yet the menace. She decided to ignore it, which meant, of course, that it would be all the more on her mind.

And this just flat out made her mad.

She fairly raged at the class for the rest of the hour. To their way of thinking, this was simply vintage ‘iron pants’.

“At least one of them must know, why I’m in such a mood,” Vanessa thought to herself but dismissed even that thought. She would not, not allow herself to go there for any reason.

“She does not!” was the response that Vanessa snorted to herself.

She took that thought with her, and found herself in her computer room, dressed only in a pair of canary yellow panties earlier that night than usual. She went online and turned to some of her favorite sex stories. She read again material that she almost knew by heart but that sang a kind of siren song to her sexuality. She read about teacher, or authority figures being reduced to quivering slaves, slaves to a sexuality that they could not or would not deny.

She found herself then, in the middle of a story, sobbing out loud: “No one knows! No one!”

She wrenched her mind and thoughts back away from that and dove into the story again, allowing its sweet dirtiness to just overwhelm her.

She went to bed after that naked. Before sleep, she reached out under her pillow and pulled out the pair of dirty, previously worn panties. She smelled them, then put them in her mouth and tasted them. The thought caressed her mind: “That’s what dirty girls like you do.” And she agreed.

The next day in school she was not a happy person. It was this kind of mood that prevailed now and then, and that caused the students to be wary of her and tread lightly. Her glance darted around the room time and time again just daring anyone to try to deal with her in any way but what the lesson called for.

She reveled in the control that she’d reimposed, really realizing that the control was only basically control of herself. But things were quiet, and order was once again on her side.

Then came the next note: “I really do know! I really do.”

The rest of the period, the rest of the day: carbon copies of the day before. Vanessa raged; she let ‘iron pants’ out to prowl. The class buckled down. The computer was silent. Vanessa was at war from within. She was fighting and killing a past that she was determined would remain the past, and keeping these damn kids in line.

Vanessa ended her day with her panties in her mouth, tasting herself, her finger rummaging in the nest of her pubic hair, cumming and sobbing.

She was going to take charge; of this she was sure. This would not happen; of this also she was sure. That was the mental attitude with which she worked the next day. The students were wary. Vanessa constantly scanned their faces, as they worked, for any signs that someone was looking at her differently. Toward the end of the day she began to calm down and tell herself that she was being silly. She even backed off from raging at the kids.
She smiled a bit and began to make mental notes of up-skirt views of panties, cute nipples, lovely ass crack showing. These were the kind of things that she loved to see.

“Yes, covert things, things they allowed you to see, knowing that such things would please a dirty whore like you!”

The voice had come unbidden and both its suddenness and it’s wrenching truth almost overcame Vanessa.

“What the heck was going on here!” she demanded of herself.

Then she gave an assignment to be done on the computers so that she could just sit and gather herself.

Then the note: “They say third time pays for all; I do know and I’ll even whisper a part of what I know, ‘Simone’.”

Vanessa was stunned, as though she’d sustained a blow on the head. She was almost in shock.

“Who knew that name?” she almost demanded of no one in particular.
She held on until the end of the day and went home in a deep blue funk.
She went to her computer almost immediately. She Stood in the door way and slipped off all of her clothes except her purple, nylon bikini panties.

“Someone thinks I’m a dirty whore,” she said rather unreasonably to herself, running a hand down her panties to her pussy, and quickly after that a thrusting finger down the back of her panties into the crack of her ass.

“How could anyone know that name?” she demanded. “No one knows! That was left so far behind that no one could know.”

This seemed to comfort her but then came the wail from her: “Ohhhhh, ohhhhhhh, I hope they don’t know! I hope, I hope, I hope!”

This lapsed into the chant: “Please don’t let them know. Simone was secret; she was a secret; And I treated her so well; I took care of her; I did her bidding; I washed her feet, and kissed them with open lips.”

Vanessa caught herself then and turned off the unwanted flood of memories about the room mate, from what she thought was long ago, to whom she had simply become enslaved, and loved it, every dirty, toes sucking, pussy eating, ass hole licking minute of it.

With the thought, Vanessa came powerfully without even having her hand in her pussy.

To punish herself for loving the thought so much, she went to a convenient chat room that night and said truly disgustingly dirty things to women and men there, and allowed herself to be talked to as though she were a quarter, black whore.

She was a bit calmer at school the next day. This was usually the case, when she allowed herself to wallow in the Simone story again.

But the thought nagged her most of the morning. “Is this person going to blackmail me?”

The absurdity of it made her snort in disgust. But that thought wouldn’t go away. The day ran smoothly, if not calmly for Vanessa.

The note was inevitable; it finally came: “I know Simone; I know what you’re really like. She told me, you see.”

For the first time, she answered: “Shut up; shut up; shut up!”

She hardly even realized that she wasn’t being particularly smart in her answer. She just reacted from the top of her head.

Then there was an answer: “I know about you sitting at the computer at night; wearing outrageous panties, and reading dirty things.”

Vanessa shot back: “No, you don’t; you know nothing; nothing at all.”

The answer appeared, as she feared it would: “I know you though! You’re still the same, aren’t you, nessa?”

It was like a slap. It produced in Vanessa a weak, sexual feeling; it was a feeling of falling into a great kind of pit.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Vanessa moaned to herself, as she walked out of the classroom briefly to get her breath. “She knows my slut name; oh, she knows.” Vanessa felt like she was undone.

Then the notes stopped. She waited for them daily but they didn’t come. But now she felt that she was being toyed with. She began to sense that the decision about these things had already been made by someone else, and it as only a matter of time before she reverted to the ‘nessa’ that she knew she was.

“I will not,” she raged at herself now. “I will just not.”

But every night the fantasies grew now; she thought the old thoughts, and made the old plans about how to please, and allow herself to be as dirty as she knew she should.

She realized that she needed to begin to do something to get her mind free of this.

Another of Vanessa’s chief ways to let such things out, and relax was in her running. She was no star but she was faithful to it. She did get out frequently in the mornings early, always on Saturday mornings to run. She often would stay after school to run at the gym track, when no one was there.

She began to pay more and more attention to the running now. It helped her to push down any of the thoughts about Simone and those days that would invade her consciousness.

After school, she went to the gym. No one was about. She changed in the girls’ locker room to her baggy sweats, cut off at the knees, and went for the run. She was surprised after a taking a few laps to notice one of her students,

Clarice, come out onto the track and run also. Clarice was running toward Vanessa.

She stopped, when she got to Vanessa. Vanessa was afraid that right then and there the confrontation would take place and she’d be forced to be ‘nessa’ again.

Clarice said quietly but firmly: “Sorry, Ms. Smith, the flow is supposed to be that way.”

“Ohh, of course,” Vanessa said with a kind of blush tinge on her light coffee brown skin. She realized how badly she’d over-reacted.

Vanessa turned and went in the direction that Clarice was running. She tried to concentrate on her running but knew that the ‘reprimand’ was bothering her. She fought with herself about even calling it a ‘reprimand.’ But part of her mind saw it that way.

“It’s not connected,” she said to herself, hoping to believe it. “Not at all.”
She was also surprised to find that she was not angered by the ‘reprimand’ but really fairly chagrined by it. She noticed the old tell tale wetness of her pussy, and instantly began to work at pushing the thought away.

“No, please, this is not going to happen,” she almost cried to herself.

She finished her run and decided to wear her sweats home and shower at home. A little voice within insisted that she was afraid to shower there because Clarice might come into the shower room, when she was there. Vanessa simply ‘pooh-poohed’ the notion. She would not crumble if Clarice was in the shower; she would not do anything stupid or dirty or sexy.

She locked those “Simone” things back in her mind, and just went home.

In the next three times that Vanessa stayed to run, she met Clarice every time.

“Clarice was a special case,” Vanessa thought. What she meant was that Clarice was a member of ‘the runners’ group. But she was a quiet girl. She seemed to be fairly a no nonsense type also. This, of course, led her to the conclusion that Clarice was not the one who had sent those messages.

On those occasions, when Vanessa met Clarice, when they were running the track together, Clarice simply nodded to Vanessa, when she approached her. Vanessa never made the gesture first. Vanessa was simply afraid of any contact at this point.

The messages had stopped, but that made it so much worse. If was as if she now expected that the incident had moved to a new kind of level.

“No, I will not think that way; it’s past. It was a fluke on my part. I didn’t enjoy it at all. And this thing with not being more friendly with Clarice, it’s my inner, natural reserve,” she told herself. Of course, the tiny insistent, harping voice within said to her: “No, it’s because you’re afraid of her. You’re afraid that she will be the next Simone.” Vanessa pushed the thought from her mind immediately.

But that night, in the computer room, before the screen, wearing only a pair of black bikini panties, the running figure of Clarice came up again.

Vanessa was in the middle of another woman’s story of submission, and the thought came, unbidden: “Why isn’t it my story of submission to Clarice!” The thought alone shocked Vanessa into a long pause before continuing the story.

Saturday came, and the weather promised to be nice. Vanessa took herself to the school stadium running track for an early morning run.

She discovered, when she got there that ‘the runners’ were already there. They were all running at a pretty good pace. They wore short lycra pants that came to the knees. Each wore a different color. But they looked, as far as

Vanessa was concerned, ripe and wonderful.

It made her feel kind of ashamed of her old sweats. It also raised unbidden sexual thoughts that she simply clamped a mental hand over to set aside.

Then, as Vanessa ran, getting limbered up for the long stretch, she heard them coming up behind her. She heard a distinct voice saying to another in a kind of stage whisper: “Hey look it’s ‘iron pants.’”

Vanessa went about her running. She wasn’t going to glorify that remark with any kind of reaction. They were out here on the track, she knew that she had no authority here. Someone was trying to bait her, to lure her into old and rejected ways of acting.

“I simply would not do it,” was the thought she carried around the track with her.

Then the very notion that she had just thought of, the ‘no authority’, notion hit her like a bomb. She didn’t mean it the way she was now taking it but as a concept it was wiggling into her mind, and causing all of her latent submission thoughts to surface. She felt her self getting wet between the legs with the very thought of having ‘no authority’ over these girls. At that point the ghost of her Simone flared to life, whether Vanessa wanted it to or not.

They finished before she did. But as soon as she got home from her run, she was in the shower, and her hand was on her pussy, with a finger, then two nestled inside working away.

As she masturbated to her orgasm, she replayed the very thought of not having authority over those girls, and it was all tumbled together with her thoughts of the way that she served Simone.

She tried to dismiss those thought with dinner.

“I’ll deal with them later,” was the thought that came to her mind.

It was later, when she sat down to the computer, tonight wearing only pearl white panties with black lace trim, that the unbidden thoughts returned. She was thinking of it, when a note popped up that she had e-mail.
It was from Clarice, she noticed with a wrenching feeling in her gut..

Teacher from the high school tried to be available for their students and made their e-mail addresses available. No one that Vanessa ever knew complained about it as a nuisance.

The message was is in two parts.

“Ms. Smith, I want to apologize for my witless friends today for their calling you ‘iron pants.’ They get out of hand at times, I’m afraid.”

Then there was another message that was stranger:

“You know, Ms. Smith, you are such a lovely woman; you’d look so much nicer, when running, in a nice running outfit.”

That was all. No more than that. Vanessa realized that she could take it as an insult. But she also realized that she felt it more like an order. There was no note of apology about the e-mail at all. It was simple and straight forward. Vanessa felt that Clarice was ordering her to get a new running outfit, one that would show off her attractiveness more.

The little inner voice was hammering at Vanessa, after reading Clarice’s note: “Of course it wasn’t apologetic; there is no apology needed, when you’re ordering your slave to do something.”

That thought, real, present and over-powering reduced Vanessa to sobs. She was also mortified by the realization that the sobs were for a return to the sweetness of being told what to do, being handled, yes, even being used. She sought the anger she knew should be there at the very possibility of such treatment, and, to her despair discovered only longing.

Vanessa shut the thought down in disgust but went to her favorite stories about white girls humiliating black women, effectively nullifying her strong resolve. She came thunderously that night.

She also went shopping the next day. Her new running outfit was like the outfits of ‘the runners’. It had light blue lycra running shorts, like bicycle shorts without the padded seats.

“Your seat is padded enough,” her inner voice told her. She ordered it to shut up immediately.

The outfit was then topped with a matching or contrasting tee shirt. She was pleased that she was headed for greater style as a runner.

Of course, the small voice told her that she was pleased because she thought she’d please Clarice by wearing this tight, sexy outfit. This time she was afraid that the voice was right.

Vanessa was afraid that she was slipping but she knew that she had the reserve to handle this and keep it from going in a disastrous direction.

The test came soon enough. She stayed late at school the following Tuesday to run. She was toiling around the track, in the correct direction, she noted, when Clarice came through the door to the track and began to run

Clarice hesitated and allowed Vanessa to get ahead of her. Vanessa didn’t know whether to be worried or pleased.

Clarice was running behind her, not trying to pass or run as well as Vanessa knew she could or usually did.

Clarice was smiling all the while. She was working on “iron pants”, and she bet that it was working. She ran but slowly that day. She simply settled into a light kind of stride that kept her behind “iron pants’; it gave her the chance to watch Vanessa Smith’s lovely, shapely ass, encased in those tight light blue shorts. Clarice also smiled at the fact that Ms. Smith’s bikini panties showed through the light colored running shorts.

Clarice ran for a while, and then headed off and showered.

Vanessa ran a bit longer, and walked to cool down. She still wasn’t sure about showering at school with Clarice around.

That night Vanessa settled to her computer, and was going to allow herself to read some stories, when she got an e-mail from Clarice.

She wasn’t sure if she was eager to get it and read it, or dreaded it. She simply felt the walls closing in on her.

It was short but left Vanessa breathless: “Nice new outfit! Light blue suits you well. But why not try thong panties next time?”

Again there was no sign of an apology for what she said, the tone or the content. Vanessa also realized that she herself thought that Clarice had every right to talk to her about such things.

This was no longer subtle, and she knew that she had to do something. Then her inner voice cut in and her mental progress was lost:

“After all,” Vanessa mused, “She knows these things and I don’t. I should be happy for the advice.”

But what made her specially happy was that Clarice was giving her directions about what kind of panties to buy and wear with the running shorts.

She shopped the next day. She went to a favorite woman’s store and bought some of her ‘sexy’ favorites, plus some new thongs to wear with the light blue running shorts.

She was just paying, and not particularly paying attention to anyone else, when she turned briefly and noticed

Clarice standing and watching her. The sales girl was holding out and folding each of the pairs of panties, as though showing them to Clarice for approval.

Vanessa didn’t know exactly what to do. She certainly blushed, then she stuttered as she tried to say ‘hi’ to

Clarice. Clarice said a simple ‘hi’ back to her and just kind of grinned at her.

Clarice spoke up: “I like the panties! I thought you might wear panties like that.”

“What?” Vanessa said but instead of it sounding like angry ‘iron pants’, it sounded instead like nessa asking for directions.

(“I will not do this,” Vanessa said to herself severely. The answer was a laugh that bubbled up from somewhere.)
Then, as if she were reading Vanessa’s mind, Clarice said: “This is making you nervous!”

(It wasn’t a question just a statement.)

Now Vanessa only just looked at Clarice.

Then it came, finally right out!

Clarice continued: “I bet it makes you feel like you did with Simone!”

“No, no, no,” Vanessa tried to say with emphasis but it came out as only whining.

“You know nothing of Simone,” Vanessa said almost plaintively.

“Of course I do,” Clarice said calmly back, “I am Simone for you!”

It was as though Vanessa was slapped. It took away her strength. It made her weak.

She just barely was able to rasp out: “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

Clarice laughed: “Of course not! I’m just trying to get you to allow yourself to be who and what you are.”

Vanessa blanched at that but found she had no retort at all. There was no rage to react from, no bad temper to show, no pride to hide behind. She was being called now! Called to be what she knew she was.

Clarice pushed on: “Now you take those pretty panties, and tonight you set in front of your computer and read your dirty stories about women like you allowing themselves to be used. And you just think about it.”

Vanessa just stalked out at that point. By the time she was in the parking lot, she was in tears,and her panties were so wet that she felt positively squishy and sexy.

Vanessa was upset with herself later. She blamed herself for acting like a young idiot. She raged about it until she got to her computer. There was an e-mail there.

Vanessa opened it, she realized, in rather eagerly.

It was from Clarice. It said:

“Nice panties. Wear some tomorrow. During history class, at 11:55 AM, make a comment that includes the color of the panties that you’re wearing.”

That was the entire note. Vanessa had no time to be upset; she was so turned on that she played with herself immediately. She sat at her computer and went to the chat room; she reveled in disgusting things there, and said disgusting things and did disgusting things. She was chagrined by the fact that it made her feel better.

She realized the next morning that she was not questioning Clarice’s right to tell her what to wear. A part of her also realized that she was at a very important juncture here with all of this. But she knew herself well enough to know that she’d wear a pair of the new panties tomorrow, and that she’d make a comment at 11:55 AM.

The panties that she wore, beneath an a-line skirt, were pink, a brilliant, hot pink. Vanessa had a hard time keeping her mind on her teaching. She glanced at the clock a little too often. She also glanced at Clarice from time to time but saw no sign of anything in the girl’s face.

At 11:55 AM, she paused and said to the class. “We’ve only a little left but I need to finish this material or they’ll give me my pink slip.”

It caused general giggling around the room. As she continued, Vanessa saw a smile on Clarice’s face. Then to her shock she noted the very same smile on all the faces of ‘the runners.’ It was obvious to her immediately that they all knew. She was conflicted now. It seemed somehow different to be taking orders from Clarice than for all of them to know it. She kept on with what had to be done, trying to keep ‘iron pants’ in charge but found it difficult.

Slowly, slowly the thought dawned on her, the realization that they all should know.

“Yes,” she thought as she finished up, “They all should know.”

Vanessa was turning corner here; she knew that and a large part of her, the part in charge didn’t care. She knew then that she was losing this battle.

“It’s as if she is just rubbing my face in this,” Vanessa said to herself. “Then why don’t I fight this?” she wanted to know.

Unfortunately she got her answer quickly: “Because you deserve this and the way you were with Simone, that way was the true you, the true nessa.”

This is where all of this had brought her. As a matter of fact, the part that took over from ‘iron pants’ felt it was a right and proper direction for her. She’d never realized herself to be so close to just giving in before.
The period ended. But Vanessa knew that she was certainly not being ‘save by the bell.’ This same class now turned into a study hall in this room.

She knew that they’d be doing the assignment that she’d given them. She announced at the period’s beginning that she’d help anyone that needed it.

They all settled down to work on laptops, and it became quiet. Vanessa thought that maybe she’d be able to restores some control now.

Just then she got an e-mail. She noted quickly that it was from Clarice. Suddenly, control was no longer a priority.

There was an excited feeling in the pit of her stomach. A voice was telling her that she should just be calm; Clarice would tell her what to do. It had a strange settling effect on her.

The e-mail gave her directions: “Come to my desk, squat down in order to explain the assignment; then spread your legs and show me the pink panties.”

Vanessa hesitated. This was her moment of truth, she knew that. Another e-mail flashed on the screen. She opened it.

It was Clarice again: “Do it, you black bitch!”

The message startled Vanessa; it did more than that. It woke her up.

She simply typed back: ‘Yes.”

Another e-mail immediately: “Yes? Say it! Say it now! Yes, what?”

Vanessa let out an almost audible sigh as she typed back: “Yes, ma’am.”

“Better! Now do it!” came the following order.

Vanessa started to walk among the class members. They were all engrossed in what they were doing. Clarice was at the back of the class on the far edge. Vanessa worked her way to her.

“Do yo have any questions, Clarice?” she asked quietly, squatting down in front and to the right of Clarice’s desk as she asked.

“Yes,” Clarice said, as she let Vanessa hang there a moment. Then she continued: “What color did you say?”
Vanessa was shocked and, she realized, pleased by the question.

Her answer was the simple word: “Pink.” But she accompanied her answer by moving her feet to allow her so splay her knees out much wider. It was easy now for Clarice to see clearly the lower belly and crotch of her bright pink panties. Vanessa stared at Clarice eagerly.

Clarice then lifted her foot from the confines of her backless running shoes and moved the foot forward. Vanessa was wide eyed as she realized what Clarice was about to do. Surely enough, the toes of Clarice’s foot now went rubbing up and down the pink panties that barely hid Vanessa’s pubic bush. Vanessa had to hold onto the desk to keep from falling over. She was breathing hard and clenched her eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes again, Clarice was smiling at her.

“Thank you for explaining that; Clarice said. Then she leaned toward Vanessa and said to her: “Now explain that to the others.”

Vanessa did as she was told. She went in turn to each member of ‘the Runners’. For each member of the group she squatted, splaying her knees, showed her panties.’ She got cruel grins from each of them.

Vanessa did it almost automatically. She realized that she was just doing what she was told. And, in a flash of recognition, she realized that it was what she needed to do.

But the period wasn’t over. Vanessa sat at her desk, trying vainly to divert her attention. She got another e-mail from Clarice. She was surprised at how settling it was to get new instructions.

The e-mail said: “Go to the closet; bring me those pink panties!”

Vanessa was shocked but didn’t hesitate to do as she was told. She made the round of the class again. This time, however, she had her pink panties in her hand.

She got to Clarice after a bit, and asked quietly: “Alright, Miss Clarice?”

As she talked to Clarice, Vanessa squatted again and splayed her knees to show the young girl her curly pubic triangle and her pussy lips.

As she did this, she handed the panties to Clarice, who took them with a grin.

“See you at the track,” was Clarice’s quite message now to Vanessa.

While talking to her, Clarice again had her toe active in Vanessa’s pussy.

Clarice was grinning, Vanessa was overwhelmed by the feeling, and trying not to cry out in front of the class.

Clarice then said: “No panties today at the track.”

“Of course not, ma’am,” was Vanessa’s answer, as the period came to an end.

They were getting ready to run at the track. Clarice was ready and Vanessa had put on her lycra stretch pants, sport’s bra, and tee shirt.

Clarice reacted as though she were incensed. “Take off that bra!” she demanded. “Did you ask if you could wear a bra today to run? Did you?”

Vanessa was chagrined; she’d gotten to the point where she really didn’t like upsetting Clarice.

Vanessa kind of hung her head and said quietly: “No ma’am, I certainly didn’t”

“Then don’t wear one!” Calrice demanded.

Vanessa started to go back to the changing room. Clarice stood in front of her: “Where the hell do you think you’re going, you irresponsible black bitch?”

Vanessa was stopped dead in her tracks. “I only thought . . .” She began.

Clarice interrupted her: “No, no, no, no, you don’t think, cunt, you listen; you do what you’re told? Are you slow, are you dumb? Are you stupid?”

Vanessa had tears in her eyes now but her pussy was getting wetter and wetter. “No, ma’am, I’m not,” she said quietly.

“Then just take off your tee shirt and that fucking bra! Now! How hard is that, bitch?”

“Not very hard, ma’am,” Vanessa admitted.

Then she hurried to remove the offending clothes. Her tee shirt came off and then the sport’s bra. Clarice took the bra and threw it to the side of the track.

Vanessa went to put her tee shirt back on.

Clarice hollered: “Stop!”

Vanessa stopped in her tracks. She was being simply overwhelmed by this treatment. She loved it; she hated it; she deserved it; she wanted it; she loathed it. How was she to know?

As Vanessa stood there, Clarice grabbed her by the nipples. Clarice was taller, she was athletic and very strong.

She pulled on Vanessa’s nipples and raised the black teacher, almost naked now with one of her students, on her tip toes.

The pain was excruciating. Clarice was grinning. Vanessa was almost sobbing.

“What name do you call yourself, when you’re being so sexy and dirty, whore?” Clarice demanded. “You tell me your pet sex name, my black teacher piggy, and I’ll leave your nipples go.”

“Nessa; it’s nessa,” Vanessa struggled to say. “That’s the name for the dirty sexy me; it’s nessa.”

“Well, nessa,” Clarice began, letting the nipples go now, which were, however, already hard, and a little swollen,

“Let’s do our run. I just have to get something from my bag.”

Clarice went to her bag and came away with a leather belt. She wrapped most of it around her hand but let the end loose.

Vanessa was staring at Clarice and the belt wide eyed, wondering what she’d do.

“I want you to run in front of me,” Clarice said, “Do you understand, nessa? I want to watch your ass, as you run.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vanessa said, “I’ll run in front so that you can watch my ass, as I run.”

“Good, you’re listening at last,” Clarice said. Then, as she spoke she lashed out with the belt and whipped it across

Vanessa’s sore nipples.

Vanessa squealed from the pain.

“Hmm, good,” Clarice said happily, “I like that noise, that’s a pure nessa noise.”As she said this, she hit Vanessa’s nipples with the belt again.

Then Clarice said, in a chilling voice: “Thank me,teacher cunt!”

Vanessa hurried to comply; she certainly didn’t want to be hit again. She also tried to ignore the part of her that was simply hoping that Clarice would indeed decide to hit her, hurt her again. She tried to brush that aside, not completely successfully.

“Nessa says, ‘thank you, Mistress,” she said in a servile voice. “She thanks you for the pain; she thanks you for calling her names; she thanks you for noticing her; she thanks you for what you do for her.”

“Better,” Clarice said. “Now run.”

They ran with Vanessa in front. Periodically Clarice, who had no problem keeping up with her teacher, hit Vanessa in the ass with the belt. She also made comments about how big and juicy looking Nessa’s ass was. Vanessa thanked her every time she was hit or a comment was made.

As she ran, Vanessa tried to pay good attention to Clarice; she didn’t want to upset her any more. She also let her thoughts run along musing on this relationship. She was aware of the fact that she aimed for this kind of relationship with a white girl all her life.

She was bright, she was articulate, she was a good teacher but she wanted to be used like a simple bitch, and the nipple punishment and the use of the belt were tremendous parts of that scene. Vanessa simply allowed herself to sink into it; no thought, no remorse,. She was being her fantasy now.

They had a good run and they finished.

Clarice turned to Vanessa; she said: “Nessa, don’t even think of going home today without showering.”

“Oh, I won’t ma’am,” Vanessa said, as they both went into the locker room.

Vanessa hurried out of her running clothes. She could already hear the shower running. Clarice was in the shower already.

She went quietly, and with some trepidation into the door of the shower room. She saw Clarice under the water spray. She really had a lovely athletic body.

Vanessa told her so.

“Don’t you try to weasel your way onto my good side now,” Clarice said. Then she continued: “Come over here and wash my body.”

Vanessa took a step toward Clarice.

“And don’t you dare walk!!!!!” Clarice shouted at her teacher.

“No, ma’am, this black bitch will crawl to her white mistress,” Vanessa said, getting on her hands and knees and crawling to where Clarice waited.

Vanessa took the soap and began with one foot. She’d wash the foot, and then kiss it, sucking on the toes. Then the other foot. This was the way that she progressed up Clarice’s body doing the washing, licking and sucking each part as she went. There was no part of Clarice’s body that didn’t get some attention.

Vanessa spent a special amount of time cleaning, washing and then licking Clarice’s pussy and then her ass crack, and the bud of her asshole. When Vanessa moved her tongue and nose into the crack of Clarice’s ass to lick her after cleaning, Clarice held Vanessa’s head there for a long time, forcing the teacher to lick, and suck on Clarice’s asshole.

“Suck on my asshole, you black bitch!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vanessa barely managed to say, never daring to move her mouth from Clarice’s asshole.

“Who’s black bitch are you?” Clarice demanded.

“Nessa is Clarice’s black bitch!” Vanessa chanted.

“Where is your tongue, nessa? Right now where is it?”

“Nessa’s tongue is right now in Clarice, her Mistress’ asshole, licking and sucking. It’s where her tongue should be.”

Vanessa also paid attention to Clarice’s nipples, tits and her arm pits. She was surprised as she got to Clarice’s mouth at how tender Clarice’s kiss was. She almost became lost in the kiss.

When she was finished washing and licking Clarice, Vanessa was ready for her own shower.

“Here, cunt,” Clarice said, being imperious again now, after the sweet kiss, “Let me set this shower for you.”

Clarice turned the shower almost completely cold and forced Vanessa to get under it for her shower.
Vanessa was squealing and jumping around but got her shower finished. Clarice then left the shower room, as Vanessa toweled off.

When Vanessa got to the bench where her clothes were, Clarice was waiting. She was dressed now.

“One more item, nessa,” Clarice said. “I need to deal with you for being so stupid out on the track about that bra and not having permission to wear it. Get yourself over my knee.”

Now, in this ultimate humiliation, Clarice pulled her history teacher over her lap and spanked her naked ass as though she were a child.

She spanked until Vanessa was crying and sobbing. Vanessa was totally surprised as the pain turned to simple heat that she could feel everywhere in her body.

To her shock and Clarice’s delight, Vanessa actually came, while being spanked.

When Clarice was done, she pushed Vanessa unceremoniously to the floor with the disgusted words: “Slutty bitch!”

Vanessa lay there panting but took time to say: “Thank you for the spanking, ma’am.”

Clarice looked at Vanessa, and said: “Tomorrow early at the track to run. Be there.”

“Yes, ma’am, of course,” Vanessa said.

Clarice left. Vanessa sat there still nude and thought. She was hardly surprised that her fingers ended up in her pussy. It was all overwhelming.

Nessa, this is what she was calling herself for this outing, was there early on Saturday, it was still pretty dark with only a blush of dawn showing. She got out of her car, and did some stretches. She wore the powder blue lycra running pants, and a tee shirt. She hadn’t dared, after the other day, wear either panties or a bra. She felt almost naked in the outfit, and that pleased her very much. But much more of a concern in her mind was whether it would also please Ms. Clarice.

She didn’t have to wait long. A van arrived, and Nessa was shocked to see all of ‘the Runners’ were present.

She tried to hide her apprehension, when she approached Clarice and immediately knelt to kiss her hand in greeting. This got a round of giggle from the other ‘runners.’

“Black bitch knows her place,” one of them said.

“Yes, and just barely dressed this morning, I see,” said another.

“Greet them, Nessa,” Clarice said.

“Yes, of course, Mistress Clarice,” she replied.

“Mistress Clarice,” one voice almost shouted.

There was a general laugh, and the others chimed in to congratulate Clarice on what she’d accomplished.

“What the fuck happened to ‘iron pants?’” One wanted to know.

“Well,” Clarice answered, “I believe that you’ll find that our nessa here is much easier to deal with; isn’t that true, nessa?”

“Yes, Mistress Clarice, your nessa is much easier to deal with,” was Vanessa’s answer.

“Well let’s limber up and not waste the morning,” Clarice said to them.
They all did some stretches, and then were ready for the track. Clarice motioned for nessa to walk ahead of them.

One of the other girls called out to nessa: “Tell me, girl, what are you wearing beneath your running outfit?”

“Nothing at all, ma’am,” nessa said, “Mistress Clarice wishes it so.”

“Oho,!!!!!!!!!!” came the retort, “She wishes it so; what else does she wish?”

“You need to ask her, ma’am, “nessa said, and the began to run.
They made nessa run ahead of them. They wanted to watch her shapely ass in motion beneath the barely adequate covering of the blue stretch lycra.

“Nice ass, nessa,” one commented.

“Thank you, ma’am,” nessa answered, “I’m glad you like my ass.”

“Maybe I’d like to beat your ass,” came the reply.

Nessa gulped but then managed: “If that’s what you wish and Mistress Clarice doesn’t mind, ma’am, then I’m available.”

“My, my she’s tamed,” another girl said.

“Oh, yes, she is,” said Clarice.

And Vanessa had to admit that she was. She had made her decision to give herself over to the acting out of this fantasy, and she enjoyed the fact that she was in the middle of it.

Nessa ran ahead of them. It gave them a constant and lovely view of her rounded, moving ass cheeks. There was not need to ask her to wiggle her ass or shake it in a special way. The running did that for them. Their comments on her ass were constant. She answered every one of those comments with a polite answer. Clarice was pleased.
They were almost finished with the run, when Clarice called Vanessa to a halt. They stood to get their breath a moment, and then Clarice addressed Vanessa:

“Nessa, whose bitch are you?”

“Your bitch, ma’am,” she answered.

“Good, then I want you to do something to entertain my friends here. We have two laps to go this morning. Sit down, remove your running shoes, then take off your lycra pants and tee shirt. Run the last two laps naked.”

“Naked,ma’am?” Nessa said, with as much sexual heat as wonder at the order.

“Do you have a problem with that, cunt?” Clarice demanded. “Think before you answer; you already have one spanking coming; do you want to add to that?”

Nessa responded quietly: “I want to do whatever you want me to do, right here for the run, and after the run, Mistress. This black bitch isn’t getting out of line, ma’am. I was only reacting to the pleasure and heat that your order gave me.”

“Strip then!” Clarice demanded.

Vanessa did. She sat by the track and slipped off her running shoes. Then she removed her lycra pants, and her tee shirt, so that she could run the last two laps almost completely naked for her students. She was on the verge of cumming right then.

The girls all ran one lap with Vanessa, oggling her naked, wiggling ass cheeks. Then they watched her run the last lap, so that they could get a good view of her bouncing, and swaying tits, and her working thighs, which framed her curly dark haired pussy.

Clarice waited for Nessa with open arms at the end of the run. Vanessa ran right into her Mistress’ arms. The other girls surrounded her, and for a few moments she was overwhelmed by the stroking hands, the probing fingers, the pinching. They worked over her nipples, her pussy and vagina, and her ass hole. Someone stole some fingers into Nessa’s mouth, and she simply sucked on them.

Finally Clarice broke in: “Come on, we have some business to finish with this lovely black bitch.”

They led her under the stand, and one of them produced the key to the boy’s locker room under the stands.

When they got into the locker room, Clarice took over. The rest were fine with that.

“Fist thing, before the spanking, is for you to show my friends what your primary job is; you see, they think that first of all you’re a teacher. But we both know that’s not the case. Tell them what your primary job is.”

“My primary job, Mistress, is to eat, and lick your pussy and asshole.” Nessa said.

“Then come here and do it,” Clarice ordered.

Nessa started to move but two things happened at the same time.

Clarice began to speak, saying, as she had done at the school: “Don’t you dare walk to me.”

But even while Clarice was beginning to speak, Nessa had realized her error and began to crawl to Clarice on her hands and knees. The other ‘runners’ were giggling at the site.

Nessa got to Clarice and lovingly removed her running clothes. Then she leaned in and put her mouth, lips and tongue to work on Clarice’s pussy. The other girls were cheering.

Nessa firmly held onto Clarice’s strong ass cheeks, as she ate her pussy.

Nessa did her job well, first eating Clarice’s pussy to an orgasm, and then turning her mistress around to bury her face in Clarice’s ass crack. The girls looking on went wild.

Then at Clarice’s order, Nessa crawled to the other girls and one at a time ate each of them to an orgasms.

She had done them all, when they said to her that they were going to go get a coke but that she should wait here for them. To Vanessa’s dismay they tied her hands to the pipes that ran above the trough urinal in the boy’s locker room. Then they sat her down in the trough itself with it smelly, slimy tiles. They blind folded their teacher and left her.

Vanessa was crying softly by the time that they came back. They laughed at that.

Clarice said: “I know what’ll make her feel better. She went over and took off her running pants to give Vanessa a chance once more to eat her pussy.”

She insisted that Vanessa do the same for the rest of the runners. Vanessa complied, doing what she was told.
Finally they were all done with her, and let her go home.

School the next day wasn’t difficult, it was just a kind of huge fog. For the most part, Vanessa, now submerged in ‘nessa’ almost completely, just ran on auto pilot. She made it through most of the day. She even taught her regular history sections with almost no thought about what she was doing. She did notice,however, the satisfied grin on Clarice’s face. It was a grin that she responded to with a kind of shy smile of her own.

During her last period of the day, she made an assignment and set them off to working on their computers. On her own, she sat and doodled on her computer; she was hardly aware of what she was doing, not really seeing images in front of her.

Her mind dwelt on that boys’ locker room, on being naked with Clarice, doing the delicious and very dirty things that she ultimately liked. That’s probably why she did what she did.

Her attention was finally grabbed by an e-mail. She idly opened it and woke from her reverie immediately.

It shouted at her: “What the hell are you doing?”

It was from one of the students in the room.

She glanced at the screen as another e-mail followed the first.

This one said: “In school? I mean “1,” “White Boy Stomps,” “Cum Dumps”! Wow!” It broke off then.

She typed back furiously: “Who is this? I demand to know”

The anger crept back into her; it felt fairly good giving her focus.

Another e-mail: “Hey, back off, teach; don’t you get all ‘iron pants’ on me. Tell me you’re sorry for that outburst and we’ll talk.”

She was shaken now by her own stupidity, for she’d checked her history, and, indeed, she’d been wandering those favorite sites of her. They were the ones that showed black women/girls having their mouths stuffed with white cocks. Cum on their faces, grimaces from the effort of it all. Drool on their chins. These were sites that nessa loved to go to with pictures that she loved to see. They provided her with grist for her own fantasy mill.

She was also shaken by the student e-mails. She knew that she had to follow this up, and willed herself to back off from her Vanessa response and let nessa come back alive in her.

“I’m sorry, for my outburst,” she wrote humbly, “It’s just that you startled me. Please forgive me.”

“Better,” came back the next e-mail.

Vanessa waited; she knew more was coming. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Tell you what I’ve done,” it proclaimed. “I’ve entered your computer’s hard drive, and made note of your history. I have the note in a file on mine. I’ll send it to you. Please see that the note includes information such as your individual ip address, which I couldn’t fake. It shows exactly what sites a teacher has been visiting during school hours.”

“Oh, I see,” was Vanessa’s response. “What are you going to do with it?” She had a queasy feeling in her stomach as she asked the question.

She was severely conflicted now. She kicked herself for her own stupidity. At the same time, she felt herself getting wet at the idea of the discovery. And a part of the discovery was the fact that she was now potentially as much under the control of this student, as she was under the control of Clarice. She was even too rattled to go on with a search about who it was. In her mind it didn’t really matter who it was.

“Send the e-mail to the following addresses,” the next note said. Then it had a series of addresses of colleagues, administrators, school board members. “But,” it continued, “You know this drill; you’ve been around enough for me to hardly have to tell you what’s happening here.”

Vanessa’s sinking feeling got worse. She tried to fight against her rising sexual arousal. She wasn’t winning that battle.

“Yes, I know,” she wrote back, “I’ve read about this kind of fantasy often enough.”

“No fantasy here, teach!” the next e-mail said.

“Please tell me then;” she wrote back. “I, of course, am at the disadvantage here.”

“Of course you are,” the next e-mail concluded, “Give me a chat name for you, and be in the chatropolis.com chatroom ‘the panty drawer’ at 8:00 PM tonight. I’ll be there and I’ll give you instructions. Don’t fail me; I won’t hesitate to send the material out that I have.”

“I promise that I’ll be there; we’ll chat,” nessa now said.

“No, what we’ll do is connect there so that I can guide you to an on camera chat destination; then we’ll chat and probably see what’s going on.”

Vanessa sighed, as the bell rang for the period to end. They filed out then taking their laptops with them, and losing her any chance to have cornered who it was.

Later, during her run in the gym, she explained to Clarice what had happened.

Clarice laughed: “Very, very naughty girl!”

“I know,” nessa said in return. Vanessa was in her totally subservient mode by now. “What do I do?”

“That’s easy,” Clarice said, “You go to the chat room; meet whoever it is and do whatever they want.”

“Yes, I was afraid so,” nessa said.

“And,” Clarice continued, “I want to be at your house, when you do.”

“Yes, ma’am, of course,” nessa answered with a certain amount of pleasure.

Clarice was there earlier than the agreed upon time for the computer link. They talked a bit and decided how they would approach the person involved. Vanessa wore a t shirt and a pair of shorts. She wore, at Clarice’s insistence, no bra. It let her nipples poke out with their dark brownness.

The time came, and Clarice took a seat where Vanessa’s computer camera couldn’t pick her up. She had her own laptop and was able to network into the feed that Vanessa was seeing but only as an observer.

Vanessa went to the chatroplis site, as she was told. She signed into ‘the panty drawer’ as ‘nessa’ and was soon contacted privately by ‘long john.”

“Hey, Ms. Smith,” he said. “Ready for an adventure.”

Vanessa typed back to him: “Let’s talk about what kind of adventure and we’ll see.”

Then the ‘long john’ person gave her instructions on how to access the video chat room of sms. They both left the chat room ‘panty drawer’.

Clarice was watching intently as Vanessa made the needed connection to the sms video chat room. When she got there, ‘long john’ was there also. She received an invitation from him to a video chat. She accepted.

Suddenly then on her screen was the image of her student Johnny Whalen, a.k.a. Long John.

“John,” Vanessa said with some surprise.

Johnny Whalen was a quiet kid, pretty intense, tall and fairly well built although not one of the strutting jock types.

“Hey, Ms. Smith,” he said.
Vanessa smiled and said to him: “John, I think you’d better call me Vanessa.”

“Fine, Vanessa,” John said, “So you want to hear about what I have in mind?”

“Well, yes, John,” she answered, “Your notes from yesterday certainly intrigued me. I would like to know where all of this is going for you.”

“Here’s the best way for me to tell you that,” he said next.

Then he moved so that the camera could take him all in. He flipped his t shirt over his head and then suddenly stood full l figured to the camera.

“Oh, my god!” Vanessa almost shrieked.

She stared; he smiled; Clarice did all that she could to suppress a snort. John Whalen’s cock was huge. He stood there with his stiff prick standing up. It looked to be about 10 inches long and a good three to four inches around.

“My, that’s impressive, John,” Vanessa said.

“You, like, Ms.. . . .uh, Vanessa?”

“I certainly do, John; I like.”

Johnny Whalen was now grinning from ear to ear.

He said to her: “Remember those photos that you were looking at in ‘Ghetto Gaggers’, and “Cum Dumps’?”

“Yes, I remember them,” Vanessa said a little breathlessly.

“Well,” he continued, “That’s what I want to do to you!”

“Ohhhhh,” Vanessa sighed.

His grin broadened. He continued: “I mean just the thought of getting this baby down a bitch’s throat is so radical but the thought of gagging my history teacher, foxy, sexy, bitchy Ms. Iron Pants Vanessa Smith is out of sight!”

“And what do I have to do, John?” she asked coyly.

“Just show up, kneel down and open your pretty mouth.”

Clarice was shaking her head ‘yes’ from her off to the side position.

“Oh, I can do that well enough, John,” Vanessa said. “So, you want to make your teacher into a Ghetto Gagger?”

“I want to watch you struggle to take all of this big baby cock into your nasty teacher’s throat; that’s what I want to do!”

Talking to her naked student with his huge erection, and being watched and directed by her other student, whom she claimed as her Misstress, was simply doing it for Vanessa. She allowed that petty, suck up pussy eater, nessa simply take over her consciousness altogether.

“Oh, I’d like that, Johnny; I’d like that.”

Clarice then made a ‘when’ motion with her hands and shoulders.

“When do you want to play this little scene, John?” Vanessa wanted to know.

He was so excited now, he said to her, his voice trying to restrain his eagerness: “Can you tonight.?”

Clarice shook her head ‘yes,’

Vanessa smiled at John via her camera: “John, you don’t quite understand here; when you find a ‘Ghetto Gagger’ like me, you don’t ask them when’s convenient. You tell them when to expect you.”

He laughed then, hard and long, with his hand still riding his erect prick.

“Gee, Vanessa,” he crowed, “You’re the real deal; so listen to me, cock sucker! I’ve got your address from the book. I’ll be there in half an hour. Get your fucking throat and tonsils ready for an invasion.”

“Yes, sir!” Vanessa said, as he grinned and rung off.

Vanessa shut off her computer, and turned to Clarice, who was already on her way across the room to her. Clarice was grinning at her.

“Slut!” Clarice said, as she leaned into Vanessa for a kiss. “He’s coming,” Clarice said, “So here’s what I want you to do.”

It was a sign of her new position that Vanessa didn’t even try to assert herself at this point. She dressed in a short, short, denim skirt, which had buttons up the front to the waist. She exchanged her colored t shirt for a plain white one, with a log on it. Now her dark brown nipples stood out even more plainly.

The two of them were ready, when the door bell rang. Vanessa answered the door. Johnny Whalen stood there grinning. She let him in, standing back as she did.

“Looking foxy, bitch!” he said to his teacher.

It pleased him to use the language with her. It also pleased her.

Then he saw Clarice standing there.

He turned to her and said, in some confusion: “Hey, Clarice!”

“Hey, Johnny,” Clarice answered.

He then looked back and forth from Vanessa to Clarice with a question mark on his face.

Clarice, to help him out, turned to Vanessa and said clearly to her: “Introduce yourself to him now.”

His head snapped around to where his teacher stood, her nipples hard beneath the thin fabric of her t shirt.

She said to him, almost demurely: “My name is nessa; I’m Mistress Clarice’s pussy slave.”

“Say what?” he said, startled.

The look on his face spoke now of his disbelief. He apparently thought that he was being had.

Clarice stepped in to correct that. She snapped at Vanessa: “Nessa, take off your skirt; let his feel your nice, round, black ass.”

Without hesitating, but with a “Yes, ma’am,” Vanessa unbuttoned her skirt and let it slid to the ground. She was wearing a pair of peach colored, bikini panties.

She turned her back to him and said quietly: “John . . .uh, Mr. Whalen, would you please like to feel my ass?”

He ran his hand up and down the slope of her marvelously rounded ass cheeks. He was still looking a little questioning.

Clarice spoke up again: “Nessa, come here; undo my jeans, pull them down and kiss my asshole.”
Nessa started to move toward her but she barked: “Hands and knees, cunt!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nessa wailed and sunk to her hands and knees.

She crawled to where Clarice was waiting. John just stared wide eyed, as his teacher unbuttoned her other student Clarice’s jeans. She pulled the jeans down to the floor and then she hooked her hands inside the waist band of Clarice’s white, nylon, bikini panties and pulled them down also. Finally, using her hands as levers, nessa pried Clarice’s ass cheeks apart, and inserted her nose, and tongue into the cleft of Clarice’s ass. She made loud, wet noises as she lapped at and kissed Clarice’s asshole.

Johnny Whalen just stood there and watched. “Fuckin’ A,” he crowed. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. Fucking ‘Iron Pants’ is licking her student’s ass hole. I want some of that mouth.”

Clarice smiled, and ran her hand through Vanessa’s hair then, and spoke to John.

“She’ll do this because I want her to, and because she’s such a submissive slut. You just keep that in mind.”
“Understood!” he said firmly.

“Good,” she said, “Then let’s go and feed her.”

She turned to Vanessa and said to her: “Strip naked, you sad excuse for a teacher.”

Vanessa felt as though she’d been hit by the remark. But a part of her, from somewhere inside realized that she deserved the remark.

She hastened then to take off her panties and give them to Clarice. Next went her t shirt and now she stood totally naked.

“Never thought that you’d see ‘iron pants’ bare assed naked, did you?” Clarice asked John.

“I fuckin’ guess not,” he said with emphasis. “But she’s prime.”

“Oh, yes, she is,” Clarice said, “Now let’s go and see how big her mouth is.”

They went to the family room in the basement with it’s tile floor and area rugs.

“Kneel,” Clarice said imperiously. “I want to see this show.”

Nessa sunk to her knees in obedience.

She turned then to John who was already naked too, his huge cock standing at attention.

“Gag her, cum on her, cum in her mouth, her hair, her eyes, piss in her mouth, spit in her mouth; use the dirty, black bitch. Make her feel like the worthless slut she is.”

All of this brought tears to nessa’s eyes.

John just grinned; he reached out and grabbed a hunk of nessa’s hair and forcefully pulled her toward him.

“Open up, honey,” he said cruelly, “Here comes daddy.”

She obeyed,and the head entered her mouth. It forced her mouth wider and wider. She choked pretty quickly. He didn’t relent but pulled on her hair and stabbed more of the huge cock into her mouth.

Her arms flailed about until Clarice grabbed her arms and pinned them back with a tie. She seemed to love the difficulty that this was causing Vanessa. It brought out something bitchy in her. She made grunting and squealing noises in her throat. Spittle and drool began to run out of the sides of her mouth around the invading cock.

John pushed once more hard. Nessa made a throat noise, and John moved back grinning to let his history teacher retch onto her own tits. She brought up throat and some stomach fluid, gasping for breath. She tried to wail ‘no’ but John had grabbed her by the ears and pulled her face onto his prick again.

It went down the same length where he’d previously stopped more easily this time. She was still drooling and spitting around the prick in her mouth.

He pulled her forcefully chanting as he did: “Take it, black cunt; take it; it’s what your mouth is made for: white cock!”

He pulled her again and his cock was in!

Her eyes fluttered, she was about to faint. He pulled out and left her gasping and retching again. But he grabbed hair and had his cock in her throat again quickly.

John bucked one more time, with her mouth stretched, and impaled on his large cock and he began to cum.

It exploded from her mouth, her nose. He pulled out and came on her face and in her hair. Then he grabbed a hunk of her hair again and pushed his gigantic cock into her mouth again to finish.

He pulled out again now. Quickly he wiped his cock on her hair.

She knelt with her head down, she retched again, more fluid spilled out of her mouth, mingled with the cum now.

She had it in her hair, on her face, in her mouth. Sour fluid dripped down from her stiff nipples onto her stomach and began to mingle with her pubic hair.

She looked around, a dazed look on her face, for some help or support.

John just grinned, and said: “Hey, teach, nice cock sucking.”

But Clarice barked at her: “You stink, cunt, crawl to the bathroom and shower now.”

“She looks used,” John said.

“She deserves to look used; it’s what the black bitch likes; it’s what she’s for.”

Clarice hauled off and kicked nessa in the ass, as she crawled past.

“Get a move on, bitch,” she said in an evil tone of voice. “I want to watch him do that to you again, and fuck your asshole too.”

Nessa was crying as she crawled into the bathroom to clean up. She’d never, never, never believed it would be like this or come to this. She hated the fact that it turned her on too.

She came back from the bathroom, both Johnny and Clarice were staring at her.

As she stood there, Clarice barked at her: “Hey, bitch, get over here and clean up the floor; our boy here with the mega dick wants to put it in your asshole.”

Vanessa whined then: “Please, please no!”

Clarice was on her in a second; she slapped Vanessa’s face and forced her to the floor. Vanessa cringed on the floor; herself and her self esteem were lost in the situation.

She was crying then; Clarice had her shoe on the side of Vanessa’s face.

She challenged the naked, quivering teacher: “Now what did you say, cunt?”

“Nothing, nothing, really,” Vanessa babbled. “Nessa just wants to please you; just to please.”

“Better,” Clarice said. “Now get this floor cleaned.”

Vanessa did as she was bid, cleaning the floor. Then she came back into the room. She looked to Clarice for orders about what was next.

“Now, more fun, teacher,” Clarice said with a grin. “You left his cock all dirty, now clean it with your mouth. Get him ready and then get on all fours, like the pig you are, he’s going to fuck your asshole. You don’t mind do you?”

Vanessa, completely cowed now replied: “No, Mistress, nessa doesn’t mind being ass fucked by Johnny at all.”

“Good, get to work,” Clarice said, shoving Vanessa toward him.

Vanessa went to her knees in front of Johnny and started to lick and suck the length of his cock. She slurped at it until she had it clean. Then Clarice handed her a jar of vaseline that she’d gotten from the bathroom.

“Okay now, lube your asshole and his cock; then we party again.”

Vanessa did as she was told. When she finally was on her hands and knees, there were tears in her eyes. But her nipples were still hard, and her pussy still burned. She hated liking this kind of treatment so much.

Then Johnny pushed his large cock head against her asshole. Vanessa squealed. Clarice produced Vanessa’s panties and stuffed her mouth with the panties.

Johnny had a vice grip on Vanessa’s hips, and forced his cock into her ass hole.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh!” Vanessa grunted through the gag.

“Breath with it, cunt;” Clarice screamed at her, “Let him fuck you; relax into it.”

Vanessa tried but it hurt terribly. Johnny was loving it; he continued to force his big cock into his teacher’s asshole. He loved punishing her like this. He loved hearing her squealing and pleading. But he kept fucking her.

Vanessa thought she’d pass out, when Johnny was finally all the way into her asshole. Johnny was pumping now. The heat was spreading for Vanessa and she kept grunting with the effort. Johnny finally came and began to pull his cock out of her asshole.

As the cock popped out of Vanessa, Clarice ordered her to clean him. She slapped Vanessa’s ass ash she made the order.

Vanessa scuttled to get into place and took the slimy, dirty cock into her mouth. When she had him cleaned, she slumped onto her legs and thighs.

Clarice nudged her with her foot, telling her to go clean up again.

Vanessa came back once again cleaned up.

Clarice said to her in a kind of cold tone of voice: “Look at our friend here; he’s getting hard again.”
Vanessa was exhausted at this point. She simply asked: “What do you wish nessa to do now, Mistress?”

Clarice smiled, and said: “I think you need a little more practice throating his cock. Do it once again.”
Vanessa groaned.

Clarice shot back at her: “Problem?”

“Oh, no, ma’am,” Vanessa was quick to say.

She moved then into place so that Johnny could put his large cock into her mouth again.

He loved it; Clarice loved the show.

Vanessa had the same struggle as the first time: choking, gagging, drooling down onto her naked tits, but less retching. She almost fainted again, once Johnny got his cock down and into her throat. He pulled out just in time, and gave her a breath or two only to plunge his prick right back down into her throat.

“Hey, she’s getting good at this,” he exulted.

“Of course she is,” Clarice said, “That’s what women like are nessa are for; isn’t that true, nessa?”

Vanessa, in a breathing point just then shook her head in agreement. She would agree at this point to any thing they said.

Then Johnny was cumming into her throat again, He pulled out to decorate her face, and hair once more. It left him laughing.

Vanessa was ordered to clean up again. This time, Clarice had gotten rid of Johnny and came into the shower with Vanessa. Clarice was now naked.

Without being told, Vanessa knelt to lick Clarice’s pussy. She clung to the tall white girl’s ass cheeks, as she used her tongue on Clarice’s vagina, making her cum.

Vanessa dried Clarice off and then herself. They went into the family room, and sat.

“Two things,” Clarice said, “Two orders of business.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vanessa said waiting to be told.

“First, you need more practice with Johnny’s cock. We’ll try it again tomorrow.”

Vanessa was a bit wide eyed at that but complied, and said a brief ‘yes, ma’am.”

“Second,” Clarice began, “There is the issue of you refusing my order to let him put his cock into your asshole.

You know what that means?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vanessa said, beginning to tear up, “You will need to spank me’ won’t you?”

“Yes, you silly black bitch, I will. Come here.”

Vanessa went to Clarice in a totally docile fashion. She was broken now, certainly for the night, maybe just broken. She wasn’t sure.

Vanessa placed herself over Clarice’s lap. The spanking was with Clarice’s hand. Clarice kept it up, swatting Vanessa’s jiggling ass cheeks until she had her teacher flat out crying, and wailing, and promising to do much better in the future. When she was finished, Clarice just dumped Vanessa onto the floor.

Vanessa responded by crawling quickly between Clarice’s out spread knees to eat her pussy one more time.

That night in bed, Vanessa was as confused as she had ever been in her life. She didn’t know whether to cry or to giggle. She did end up playing with her pussy before she slept.

In point of fact, both Clarice and Johnny enjoyed the debasing and humiliating of Vanessa, and the simple way that Vanessa took it all.

They played the same scene the next night and for three or four nights after that.Vanessa got good at taking the big cock into her throat. It became quite a game. Clarice brought a large, black billy club like stick. She used it to push into Vanessa’s ass, when she was throating Johnny’s big cock.

Clarice and Johnny turned it into a game. They took turns deciding what to do with their nessa at the practice sessions. On one occasion they took nessa’s broom, greased the handle and shoved it up her ass. Then they led their teacher around her house using the broom sticking out of her ass to guide her movements. They were in stitches by the time they were finished and the cock sucking practice actually began.

One one occasion, as the school term wound its way toward spring break and the end, Johnny, it was his turn, brought yellow paint, water soluble paint, and they painted nessa yellow from head to toe.

Sometime at these meetings Johnny would fuck Vanessa’s pussy, she liked that. But most often Clarice had him fuck her ass with all the accompanying pain. One thing was constant, Clarice found a reason to spank Vanessa every time.

In the midst of all of this pain, degradation, humility, and, for her unreasonable arousal, Vanessa continued doggedly with her teaching. She knew that she wasn’t being as effective as she once was. Her ‘pussy life,’ as she called it, was taking over and simply calling the shots.

To her great surprise, one day she got a call from her Uncle Langford in Florida. He asked her if she was free for a visit. It came as an immense relief to her, and she went for a long weekend for the visit.
It was a kind of transforming visit for Vanessa. Her Uncle Langford, it turns out, lived in an immense home in a Gulf Coast town in Florida. He also ran his own real-estate business. Vanessa discovered when she got there, that Langford was hoping that she’d come to Florida permanently and help him with the business. He needed an office manager person to runt the place. He also was honest with her about the possibility that he envisioned of simply having her take over. She’d always been close with Langford and was simply blown away with the prospect.

They had the opportunity to sit in the evenings and take up their lives with one another again. Vanessa was never good at hiding things from Langford, nor was she this time. She tried, one evening, to express her thanks for the opportunity that he was giving her. She ended instead by crying like a baby, and leaning against him.

Vanessa admitted at that point that she’d made a mess of her love life, and that the offer of coming to live here

and work with him would be like a life line. She continued to cry.

Langford just held his sobbing niece for a bit. Then he straightened her up.

“Well, we’re going to take car of this,” he said. “You finish your school year, then you come here. You can live in the separate wing of my place until we find an appropriate place for you. I will have a man in the city get in touch with you. He’ll take care of selling your house, getting it settled so that you can get away right after school is finished. Just meet with him and do as he says.”

Vanessa just held on to him.

Langford was up to his word. When Vanessa got back to the city, she had a visitor who identified himself as Mr. Wharton. He was a member of a big city law firm and would take care of her affairs in the city. He gave Vanessa a cell phone. Her Uncle Langford was on the line. He spoke briefly to Vanessa about what Mr. Wharton would do. For the first time in her life, Vanessa felt taken car of in a truly positive way.

She met with Mr. Wharton daily for a few days after that. He told her that he was already negotiating with someone to purchase her house and that was in order. All that she needed to do was to pack her clothing and personal things and he, Mr. Wharton would do the arranging of the packing of the house and the move. He assured her that Langford was taking care of everything. It brought Vanessa close to tears.

She was also contacted as soon as she was back by Clarice. This really slid her old subservient self back into place. The day after her return, with only a little time now left in the school year, Vanessa got an e-mail note during her study hall monitoring. It was from Clarice and Johnny.

“Tonight 8:00 PM, your house, practice! Meet us at the door naked. Do you understand, cunt?”

Vanessa struggled but nessa won out. She knew it wasn’t time for her break yet. She’d continue to do this. Part of her was hating it; part of her was looking forward to it.

“Nessa understands,” was her simple reply.

She met them at the door naked, as she’d been told. They went to the basement. It seemed that both Johnny and

Clarice were in particularly cruel moods that night. Maybe it was that she’d been away.

They painted nessa red that night, from face to feet. It made them squeal with delight. Then the red painted nessa got a chance to swallow Johnny’s huge cock. She gagged, drool, and retched again. They berated her for not being up to standard, and spanked her until she blubbered and promised to try again.

She did better the second time. Then Johnny fucked Clarice, a new part of their routine but one that showed how close they were getting. While Johnny fucked Clarice, nessa got on her hands and knees in order to lick alternatingly Johnny’s and Clarice’s assholes.

Nessa then was told to clean up Johnny’s prick with her mouth. She did; she needed to please them.

Finally, Johnny told her to get his cock hard again. When nessa did, Clarice showed up with the vaseline and got

Johnny ready for nessa’s asshole. He fucked the now whimpering teacher, not listening to her begging him to go easy.

They left nessa lying there in her basement, saying to her that they’d see themselves out but would catch her the next day at school. Vanessa had to scrub to get the red pain off of her, and went to bed exhausted.
Clarice and Johnny had two more days of ‘practice’ in a row. It was leaving Vanessa both sore and discouraged. She was clinging now with the end of school so near.

She had a visit during that time from Mr. Wharton. His message for Vanessa was that the house sale was well in hand. Vanessa was pleased with the price, which left her with a tidy sum left over, when obligations were paid. He also told her that the move was scheduled. They’d be there to pack and take things the day after school was out.

Then Vanessa called her Uncle Langford to thank him. He asked about her and she told him that coming to Florida would be the best thing in the world for her. He was as pleased as she to have that information.

They had a particularly violent ‘practice’ the night before school was out. It left Vanessa simply sore, and loathing herself. She kept giving in. She saw no alternative at this point. Johnny had had her mouth twice, and her asshole. Clarice brought the black club and impaled nesssa on it, while she was throating Johnny. They used the broom handle on their naked teacher also. Vanessa was near collapse from fatigue by the time Johnny and Clarice finished their own fucking and left.

Just as Clarice was leaving, she said to nessa: “Tomorrow night I think we’ll go out. Just a little part for the three of us. School is over and vacation coming, giving us all sorts of time for playing, and practicing. You might like a party.”

“Yes, ma’am,” nessa said, “She’d like a party.

Vanessa got an e-mail during study hall the next day telling her to meet them at a cottage at a nearby lake. It would be private. She was also told to dress casual.

The last day of school came. Vanessa was relieved. She had her resignation letter ready and would hand it in after school. She was tempted to not go to the ‘party’ but the perversity in her makeup won out, and nessa decided to go and have one last fling with her two tormentors.

Mr. Wharton called and made an appointment to be there the next morning so that they could get all of the details worked out. The house had already been sold, so there were only a few other things to be taken care of. Vanessa was constantly giving thanks for her Uncle Langford.

Vanessa was on time for the ‘party’ that night. Clarice and Johnny were waiting for her. She got out of her car, as they came over to her.

“Hey, bitch,” Johnny said.

“Mr. Johnny,” Vanessa said with an inclination of the head.

“Sweet one,” Clarice chimed in with a leering smile on her face, as Vanessa glanced nervously at the few other cars there.

“But,” Vanessa said, indicating the other cars.

“Just a few friends at a party,” Clarice said smiling, “With you as the entertainment.”

“Please,” Vanessa began but Clarice cut her off:

“There is no ‘please’ between us, nessa; you know that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” nessa now said, as Vanessa felt her subservient self surge to the surface.

“Okay,” Clarice then said, all business, “Take off all your clothes and put them in the car with your purse and phone. They will be fine.”

“This one last time; one last time; one last time,” was the phrase that was humming in Vanessa’s mind, as she stripped out of her clothes.

She soon stood there naked. The night was warm but she still had goose bumps.

“Okay,” Johnny now chimed in, “Over here.”

He went to his pickup and pulled a large box from the back of the pick up. He took the lid off of the box and indicated that nessa should get inside.

Nessa scrambled to get into the box, noticing it had a hole in the front.

“It’s a blow job box,” Clarice said. “We take the box with you, the cock sucker, in it and give the guys at the party anonymous blow jobs.”

“Oh, I see,” was all that nessa could manage.

They put the lid on the box, and Johnny went to get someone to help him manage it. He and a few friends carried the box to a kind of picnic shelter where the guys were gathered. There was some beer and good cheer going on. But this was really a private party known to only a small group of Clarice and Johnny’s friends. Apart from those two there were eight guys there.

Everyone was staring at the box.

It was Clarice that spoke up: “Hey, guys!” They all greeted her.

“We have a treat for you guys tonight,” she continued. “This is a blow job box. You just come up here one at a time and stick your cock in the hole and the girl in the hole does the rest, and you get a blow job.”

Some were skeptical, others were curious and frankly anxious to try it. One actually volunteered and sauntered up to the box. Taking his cock out he stuck it in the hole.

His reaction was quick: “Wow!” he said, “Feel the lips on her” It didn’t take him too much time at all to cum, with nessa’s talented mouth at work.

The others all lined up now. It took them a while but soon enough all eight of the guys had gotten a blow job from nessa inside of the box.

They were milling around again now, and Clarice spoke to them:

“Well, I’m sure you’re wondering who has the talented mouth that just served up the first blow jobs of the evening. So, let’s just see.”
Nessa, inside the box heard her; she was sure that sooner or later it would happen. Then Johnny took the top off of the box and told nessa to stand.
She did and there was pandemonium. They were all nessa’s students. There were shouts of ‘well fuck me!” and “Shit, it’s ‘iron pants’ and she’s naked.”
Clarice grinned at the crowd of guys: “So you like our little surprise?”

That was greeted with cheers from the guys.

“Okay then,” Clarice continued, “now for the main event.”

She turned to nessa and said: “Introduce yourself to these gentlemen; they might not properly know you.”

Nessa turned to the crowd and allowed herself to plunge into humiliation even greater than she’d known before:

“Good evening, guys, you might have known me as a teacher at the school but I am really nessa, Mistress Clarice’s pussy slave, and Mr. Johnny’s cock slave.”

There were shouts and whistles at this latest event.

Clarice turned to nessa, and said: “Come here and kneel, let’s see what all of that practice did for you.”

Then turning to the guys, she said: “You might want to crowd around and watch this.”

Nessa knelt where Clarice indicated, directly in front of Johnny.

“Okay, stupid bitch,” she said, making the guys standing about laugh, “Take his pants down.”

Nessa did as she was told. She took his pants down and his boxers. His prick was already getting hard. There was great commotion among the guys about the size of Johnny’s long prick.

Mutterings of “Shit look at that thing,” and the like were heard.

Generally there was a kind of awed silence.

Nessa looked at him, as she knelt there. She hoped that he’d take it easy on her but realized that this was his moment to shine, and so, she expected him to be cruel and insensitive. She was right.

Clarice stood behind he rand held her arms behind her back, as Johnny simply grabbed nessa by the hair.
He growled at her: “Come here, you black cunt, and open your mouth.”

She did as she was told. Unlike other times, this time he used no preliminaries to get her ready. This time he pushed his cock into her mouth and bucked his hips immediately to send it down into her throat.

She strained and gagged immediately. She writhed to try to get away from it. Johnny slapped her face in response.

One of the other guys shouted: “Give it to the bitch, she deserves it.”

She wasn’t listening; she was struggling with the great cock in her mouth and throat. She was drooling almost uncontrollably around the cock meat lodged in her face. Johnny placed his hands at the back of her head. He watched her, forcing his cock into her throat all the while, and only let up, when he thought she would pass out.
He took his cock out and she retched on herself: stomach bile, and fluids flooded her tits, belly and down into her pubic hair.

“Gross,” someone said.

But Johnny immediately stabbed her face again with his large cock. This time he pushed it into the opening of her throat. The crowd let out a cheer, when they saw that her nose was buried in Johnny’s pubic hair.

Nessa was struggling and couldn’t breath. Her nose was running uncontrollably, her eyes were tearing, she was grunting and huffing in her throat, when finally his cock exploded the cum into her throat. It ran out of her nose, around her lips extended by his cock girth. It spilled down onto her tits.

He pulled out unexpectedly. He continued to cum then, aiming it at her face and tits. He made her more of a mess than previously. All the while nessa herself was retching again onto herself.

She was left that way by Johnny, Clarice and the rest, as the guys hurried to congratulate Johnny for his performance.

It was Clarice that remembered nessa. “Someone get the hose,” she shouted.

They did so with glee, and then turned the cold, cold water of the hose on their kneeling teacher to wash the retch and cum off of her, including her tits.

Clarice clapped her hands, and they went silent. “One more part of our little performance and then we turn her over to you all so that everyone can play ‘fuck the teacher.’”

They shouted approval at this now waiting to see what else Johnny and Clarice had in mind.

“The next part of our little entertainment will be for our history teacher to take old Johnny’s thing up her ass.”

Someone proposed a toast to “Iron Pants taking it up the ass.” They all drank to that and gathered to watch.

Clarice put her foot on nessa’s shoulder, and ordered her to put her face in the dirt and her ass in the air. Nesssa complied. She was floating on a kind of wave of numbness at this point. There were only sensations, and the constant sexual need that possessed her. She gave in to all of it, not knowing if she’d come back to herself or not.

Then Johnny lined up behind her. Clarice did have a tube of K.Y with her, which she made nessa apply to her own asshole and then to Johnny’s cock.

Johnny lined up and speared nessa’s resisting asshole.

Nessa squealed with the effort of the big cock to enter her bowels. The guys, almost certainly a mob by now due to Clarice and Johnny’s efforts, cheered.

“Shut her up,” Clarice barked at no one in particular.

But one of the guys took the opportunity to move in front of nessa, and put his cock in her mouth. She had no trouble with it, since it was so much smaller than Johnny’s.

Johnny continued to push his prick into nessa, who was overwhelmed now by the huge feeling of his prick stretching her asshole.

She crooned around the cock in her mouth, sucked on it hard, and bucked her ass against Johnny’s stomach as he plunged in and out. He slapped his teacher’s ass with each plunge of his cock into her asshole.
They cheered.

“See,” someone said, “She loves it.”

She wasn’t sure if she did or did not. She was just sure that it was happening, and she was participating.
Johnny tensed and began to come again. He pulled out with a popping sound and came onto nessa’s ass.

She remained where she was hoping it was over.
Clarice had other ideas. “Get the hose again;” she called, “Clean her off; then everyone gets laid.”

“No,” was all that nessa could manage.

Clarice slapped nessa’s face, shouting at her: “THERE IS NO ‘NO’ HERE, YOU SLUTTY BLACK CUNT!”
The hose did its job, once again chilling nessa to the bone. Then they were at her, all eight of them. They surrounded her. They were poking at her asshole, and pussy; they were pulling at her nipples, which remained hard throughout this treatment.

Finally they got some order and they mounted her. They did it in one in front and one in back each time. They also, as Clarice’s insistence, switched in the middle of the fucking to give each other a chance.

Nessa became simply numb. They just kept on changing places, and stepping forward, and changing places and it was all a monotony of fucking and sucking. She did it all, all that was require, letting them now use her mouth, her tits, her pussy. She had nor lodged no complaints.

She got listless on them. One of them, toward the end of the group that was going to fuck her, since most of the were fucked out by now, was smoking. To perk her up, he touched the burning end of his cigarette to nessa’s ass cheek. She squealed around the cock in her mouth immediately.

“Then wake up and fuck, teacher,” the smoker said. Then he applied the cigarette to her other ass cheek, bringing forth another pealing squeal from the almost totally used up nessa. He burned her six times before he was finished.

Nessa lay there, once the fucking and sucking was over, and they were all satisfied.

Clarice called for the hose again and they revived their naked teacher once more.

“Now just a little fun before our grand finale,” she said joyfully. “I’m sure that at one time or another every one has wanted to spank the teacher or kick her in the ass. This is your chance.”

She lined the guys up in a long line and ordered nessa to ‘crawl the gauntlet’ along the line of them.

Nessa looked at Clarice with teary eyes but began the crawl. She was slow from being tired. They used belts on her; some of the took the opportunity to kick her in the ass, sending her sprawling. Some used sticks to beat her ass. By the end of the ‘gauntlet’ they had her crying uncontrollably.
And it was the final indignity. Vanessa didn’t know why or what about this last little event woke her up but it did.

When she was finished ‘crawling the gauntlet’, she got to her feet. She was surprised that she now felt better, calmer, even a little in control.

So that, when Clarice got to her, and took her by the arm for whatever was the final event, Vanessa simply hauled off and slapped Clarice’s face! It almost knocked Clarice off her feet.
And Vanessa stomped off, on uncertain legs, toward her car, muttering out loud:

“No more, bitch; no more.”

They simply let her go. She seemed to be too dangerous at that moment to interfere with.
Vanessa dressed, while they all just stared at her. She went home, all the while she was muttering to herself: “No more; just no more; this ‘nessa’ stuff; no more. Hope you’re happy. No more.”

The mantra seemed to go on and on.

She got home. It was now torn up with the packing that she’d done. She had the bulk of her clothes in suitcases to go. The rest would be taken care of by Mr. Wharton.

She cleaned up and called him then, and asked it they could get together for a drink.

He said he was happy to, if she were free.

They met at a local place. Vanessa was happy to see Mr. Wharton. They sat to talk about what else needed to be done. She had white wine; he had scotch.

He said to he: “I assume that you’re finished with your obligation for the day.”
Vanessa smiled, she could feel the cigarette burns on her ass. She said: “Yes, I’m finished. Is there anything that we’re missing here that I need to be aware of? I certainly am indebted to you, Mr. Wharton for taking care of all of this.”
“Not at all, Ms. Smith,” he said, “Your uncle is a good, good friend of mine, and he’s ‘good people’. We also have a business arrangement, and I’m just looking out for his own.”
“Well, I am thankful,” Vanessa said. She realized that she was just then relaxing for the first time since all this started. She sighed.
“A problem?” he asked.
“No, not really, just need to load my car and away I’ll go. He’s made it so easy.”
“Well, as to that,” Mr. Wharton continued, “It seems that he wants to make it a bit more easy.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Well, before you leave town tomorrow, you and I are supposed to visit a friend of his who owns and operates an auto dealership. Your Uncle’s company is going to pay for a new car for you. It will make toting your clothes and suitcases much easier, I think. We’ll sign the papers and you can leave your old car for me to take care of.”

Vanessa started to cry. He allowed her the space for it, only after a few moments passing her a handkerchief for her eyes.

The day had gone spiraling down hill ever since she agreed to another outing as ‘nessa’. She kicked herself that she didn’t understand the expectations of the ‘party’ idea. But that was done. She was sore and disgusted but she’d live those things down. She was determined to start over. She was just so humbled by Uncle Langford’s able collusion in the solving of her mess.

“That’s very very . . .extremely generous,” she finally said.

“It’s the kind of man that Langford is.”

“I’m getting to know that more and more,” she said.

They made an appointment to meet the next morning for coffee and to go to the car dealer.

Vanessa soaked again in a hot tub that night . She was able to put her nightmares behind her. No one called. She called Uncle Langford to say ‘thank you’ before going to bed. She found that he himself was thankful that she’d agreed to become a good ‘right arm’ to him for his real estate business and his other interests.

It worked out just as he said it would. They were greeted as long lost friends at the car dealer, and Vanessa, all aglow with it, left the dealership with a brand new Lincoln SUV. It was the kind of car she always wanted.

Mr. Wharton followed her in her own old car. There was a crew at the house already packing up for the move to soon come.

They took time to help her load her own things, clothes suitcases etc into her car. With a final hug for Mr. Wharton, Vanessa left the city. She was tempted to emerge from her car and knock the dirt off of her shoes, but she knew how much was her own fault. She never did look back.

Epilogue:

What she didn’t know was that in that same afternoon Clarice came calling. Johnny had talked her into going to see ‘nessa’ to tell her that they’d be ‘practicing’ that night again. She was dumbfounded to encounter Mr. Wharton, who told her that the former owner had sold, and had already left town with no forwarding address. When he enquired of her interest, Clarice simply told him that she was a former student of Ms. Smith’s.

It was a year later, a year that had meant great changes for Vanessa. It was a year that allowed her to learn the business, and get her feet on the ground. She and Langford searched out and bought a home for her. It was much larger than she thought that she needed but he was fairly insistent. It had a caged pool, and just everything possible. Vanessa was like a kid with a new toy.

She worked hard, and long to justify Langford’s trust in her.

He one day told her: “If you put this much energy and effort into your teaching, you must have been a marvelous one.”

“How nice of you to say that,” she said to him, giving him a hug.
“I loved teaching,” she said meditatively, “I never really lost my zest for it; I just lost myself period. What I’m doing now is the best thing that every happened to me, and I can never tell you how grateful I am for the chance.”
“Oh,” he replied, “You do that every day.”
It was a late spring Saturday. Vanessa had been having late coffee in the pool enclosure. She heard the doorbell ring. She didn’t go into work that day but was taking a relaxing day.
She opened the door and was flabbergasted to find Clarice standing there.
“Oh, I’ve found you,” Clarice said, and, surprisingly to Vanessa, Clarice burst into tears immediately.
“I just had to,” Clarice said, “I had to to tell you how sorry I am, I was for what I did. I don’t know why I let him talk be into being so bitchy. I don’t know if it was his big . . .oh you know what . . .”
She trailed off at that point and just cried and cried, with her face in her hands.
Vanessa put her arms around Clarice and led her inside. She sat her down and let her cry herself out.
With a stricken face, Clarice looked up, when she’d stopped crying, and repeated: “Oh, Vanessa, Ms. Smith, I’m so, so sorry. I only came, only searched for you, only came to say that, and I’ll go.”
“Of course you won’t go,” Vanessa said. She moved toward Clarice on the couch and put her arms around her former student. Clarice put her head on Vanessa’s shoulder and sobbed again.

After a while, Vanessa suggested dinner to Clarice. Clarice admitted that she’d driven down and didn’t even find a place to stay yet.

“Then you stay here,” Vanessa said. Clarice thanked her simply and truthfully.

The went to dinner and Clarice caught Vanessa up with what had gone on. She also admitted that she’d searched for any sign of Vanessa for months, finally catching sight of Mr. Wharton one day. It’s how she found her.
Clarice returned again and again to her apology. Again and again Vanessa comforted her former student.

When they’d returned to Vanessa’s home, Clarice told her that she needed to go look for a room. Vanessa insisted once again that Clarice stay with her.

They sat in the pool house simply enjoying the late spring night until it was fairly late.
Clairice admitted to Vanessa finally that she was really tired. Vanessa smiled and took her into the house. Vanessa went before her, as she led her through the house.

“Is this yours?” Clarice asked with wonder.
“Yes, my Uncle Langoford is a local businessman, he’s taken me on as an assistant. I’ve done quite well.”
They got to the far wing of the house, and Vanessa opened the door to the master suite.
She turned to Clarice and smiled and said simply: “Clarice, this is our room.”
“Ohhh,” was all that Clarice could manage.
They started with a late night shower.
Clarice said after the shower, that she had to go and get her suitcase for a nightie.
Vanessa smiled and said: “I have one you can borrow if you need it; I’ll probably just wear panties or nothing. Shall it be ‘nothing’?”
“Nothing is good,” Clarice said.
They settled down in bed and Vanessa pulled Clarice over for a cuddle. The young woman was too weary for anything else.

Clarice laughed then.

“Something funny?” Vanessa whispered.

“Yes, ironic funny,” Clarice said. “This is the way I wanted you right from the start.”

“Well, this is the way you’ve got me,” Vanessa said.

Clarice drifted off to sleep quickly.

Vanessa lay there with Clarice spooned to her and was actually content.

She woke, while it was till dark, to a strange wet kind of sensation. It took her a few minutes to realize that Clarice was nestled between her thighs, licking the outer lips of her pussy.

“Ahhh,” Vanessa said.

“I always wanted to do this,” Clarice said, looking up and smiling, her face wet with Vanessa’s juices.

“Well, don’t stop now,” Vanessa smiled.

In the morning, Vanessa let Clarice sleep in; she seemed really tired. She went to the kitchen wearing jeans, a tee shirt and sandals to get some coffee. She had the day off, which, she reflected, was as well. She could show Clarice around a bit. Her attention was drawn, after just a few sips of coffee to the door from the dining room.

Clarice had come from the master bedroom. At first, Vanessa only stared at her. Clarice stood in the door way; she was wearing only a pair of white stretch lace panties, with a kind of french cut. But what took Vanessa’s breath away was the sign that she’d painted on her chest, above her tits, in red lipstick: “Teacher’s white cunt eater!” On her stomach was written another sign: “I lick my teacher’s asshole.”

“Wow!” was the only comment that Vanessa could come up with quickly.

“Balance, Ms. Smith,” Clarice said. “This is for balance. Let me, please do this.”

Clarice silently turned around to show Vanessa that written on her ass were the words: ‘Ms. Vanessa’s white cunt!’

“Well, you are decorated,” Vanessa said with a smile, “And no mistake about that. But tell me, girl, do you just advertise or do you actually do what all those pretty signs say.”

Clarice’s answer was a moan, as she took a step toward Vanessa. Vanessa interrupted her saying, in a stern voice:

“Don’t you dare walk to me, child; just don’t you dare.”

Clarice understood immediately. She dropped to her knees and proceeded to crawl toward her former teacher. When she reached Vanessa, she stopped and bent her head to the floor. She took one of Vanessa’s feet in her hands, and, with a contented moan, began to lick along the side of Vanessa’s shoe. She licked one side of the shoe and then the other. Then she tipped the foot up just a bit, and began to lick the sole of the shoe.

Vanessa moaned a quiet: “Yes, child, yes!” As Clarice’s tongue went to the other shoe.

She performed the same kind of cleaning job on the other shoe. When she’d licked the sole of the other shoe, she removed Vanessa’s shoes, and began to suck on her toes. She licked between the toes, and sucked the toes one at a time. Taking time to treat each toe as though it were a small cock.

Vanessa sighed and grinned down at Clarice, who was looking up at her, a look of positive devotion on her face. Clarice proceeded until she’d sucked on all of Vanessa’s toes.

Then she looked up and with that same look of devotion, asked quietly:

“Mistress Vanessa, may I please, may this slave please remove your jeans? I beg to do this so that I may proceed with my act of worship.”

“Yes, honey,” Vanessa said, “You just proceed; you’re doing wonderfully.”

“Oh, thank you, Ms. Vanessa; it pleases me to hear you say that.”

Clarice settled back on her heels then and reached for the buttons at the fly of Vanessa’s jeans. She unbuttoned the button and slowly pulled the zipper down. As the zipped unzipped, the tops of Vanessa’s royal purple panties came into view, with purple lace at the waist band.

“Oh,” Clarice said in a voice of one enchanted, “The colors of a queen. My queen, my black, beautiful, goddess like queen.”

“Hush now, and do what you’re supposed to,” Vanessa said, extremely pleased by the tone of devotion that Clarice was using.

Clarice slowly tugged on the sides of the jeans, brining them down to and past Vanessa’s hips and thighs. When the jeans were finally around Vanessa’s knees, Clarice stopped and leaned in toward her former teacher. She asked, before proceeding:

“May I kiss your pussy, Ms. Vanessa?”

“Please do,” Vanessa answered, smiling at the girl at her feet.

She sighed then, as she leaned in and planted a kiss on Vanessa’s pussy hair, through the fabric of her purple panties. After the kiss, she took time to breathe her hot breath through the nylon fabric and onto, into Vanessa’s pussy.

“Lovely, child,” Vanessa crooned to her former student.

“Panties, my lady?” Clarice asked next. “May I?”

“Yes, please,” Vanessa said.

Clarice said then simply: “No hands, ma’am,”

“Of course no hands,” Vanessa grinned.

Clarice began the process then of pulling Vanessa’s panties off using only her teeth. She gripped the front waist band of the panties at Vanessa’s right side and managed to pull them down a bit. Then her mouth went to the left side and, still using only her teeth, pulled the panties down to mid thigh. The process took many minutes. It had Clarice working hard and Vanessa sighing. At one point, Vanessa put her hand on Clarice’s head, amid her hair;

Clarice stopped what she was doing, to kiss Vanessa’s hand and lick her palm. Then she was back at tugging the panties off.

She finally succeeded, getting Vanessa now naked from the waist down.

Clarice settled back on her heels and smiled up at Vanessa. She spoke meekly and with great respect:

“My lady, may I please now to a morning wash? May I be permitted to wash your pussy and asshole, as you so graciously allowed me to wash your shoes, feet and toes? May I, please.”

“Yes, girl, you may; you please me this morning very much,” was Vanessa’s reply.
Clarice went to it. She began with Vanessa’s pussy, licking and sucking the hair and the lips, the inner walls of the pussy and the nub of Vanessa’s clit. It pushed Vanessa to her first morning orgasm, which she had clutching at Clarice’s head and holding her mouth in place, as she pumped her hips at the young girl’s wet mouth and face.

“Thank you ma’am, for that,” Clarice said.

“Clarice, you’re like a siren!” Vanessa said with a sigh.

“Oh, thank you, Mistress, I want to be wonderful for you.”

“You are that, girl; you are that,” Vanessa concluded.

Then Clarice was around behind Vanessa and had pried her ass cheeks apart. She used her tongue on each side of the rim of Vanessa’s ass, and then delved deeper and deeper with her tongue. Using her tongue, lips and spit to clean as she went. She held the ass cheeks apart enough that it allowed her to kiss Vanessa’s ass hole rose as though it were her lips.

This brought another series of moans from Vanessa. She looked at the kneeling girl then to see what she would do next.

Clarice, who had thought this out, went on at once:

“Mistress Vanessa, I wish now for two things; two things to make me yours indeed. May I ask for them?”

“Ask,” Vanessa said quietly.

“I wish to be taken to the bathroom and to be your morning toilet; I am and have been dirty to you and wish to serve you this way.”

“Granted,” Vanessa said, as she walked toward the powder room off of the kitchen.

“And,” Vanessa prompted.

“And,” Clarice said, now on the verge of tears again. “I wish to be punished for being so mean to you, when you were my teacher, and for going along with all of Johnny Whalen’s excesses.”

“Granted,” Vanessa said again. After a moment, Vanessa said to Clarice:

“Ahead of me to the master suite.”

Clarice walked ahead of her former teacher, aware all the while of Vanessa’s eyes on her swinging ass cheeks. In the bathroom Vanessa slid the sliding glass door of the large shower open. She pointed to the floor and simply said: “Kneel!”

Clarice took her place. Vanessa then moved into place, putting one leg over one of Clarice’s shoulders to make sure that the former student had good contact with her pussy.

“Are you ready?” Vanessa wanted to know, not unkindly.

“I think so,” came the answer in a shaky voice from Clarice.

“Fine!” Vanessa said and began to pee in Clarice’s mouth. She held in her mind, during her urination, the vision of her constantly choking on Johnny Whalen’s big cock and Clarice participating. It still didn’t make her happy to be doing this.

Next they showered and dried off with Vanessa allowing Clarice to take care of her during the shower.
When they were finished, it was out to the family room, off of the pool area. Vanessa sat and gestured for Clarice to lay across her lap. The former student, as she was about to get into place paused and said:

“Ms. Smith, can I ask you one question before you do this?”

“Of course,” Vanessa said.

“Why is it that, when you’re in charge, you’re so polite?”

“Oh, Clarice,” Vanessa said, “It’s something that’s good to learn. You don’t really have to be mean to be in charge; you just have to be in charge. You only need to be mean if you’re in charge and are sure of yourself, like you and Johnny.”

“Oh,” Clarice answered, and began to cry.

It changed the situation for Vanessa; instead of the spanking anticipated, she gathered the naked girl into her arms and settled back on the couch holding her. She simply allowed her to continue to have her cry.

“You cry, girl,” Vanessa cooed. “You cry and get this out; get out this dark thing; you cry and let Vanessa take care of you. You cry now; no one’s going to hurt you here! No spankings today; just some holding, just some love. That’s all.”

Clarice clung to her former teacher. She looked up, her face tear stained, and only stared for a few seconds as she noticed Vanessa take one of her lovely large tits and push its nipple toward her mouth. Clarice cried harder then, but she accepted the nipple and sucked on it.
Vanessa held the sobbing girl for a long time, and just let her get it all out. When Clarice stopped her crying, she let go of Vanessa’s nipple. This time, when she looked up at Vanessa’s face, she saw her former teacher leaning in toward her with the obvious desire to kiss her. She gave Vanessa a smile then, and lifted her lips also.

“Hmmm,” Vanessa cooed again, “Soft lips, crying lips, tasty lips! We should have been doing this a year ago.”

“Oh god, yes!” Clarice said, and opened her mouth to the totality of the kiss.

As she kissed her, Vanessa spread her legs so that one of her legs was between Clarice’s and one of her knees was pressing against Clarice’s pussy. Clarice did the same. They continued the kiss with their tongues now. Clarice was humming into her former teacher’s mouth. Vanessa returned the favor. Vanessa then reached around to put her hands on Clarice’s ass cheeks. Clarice responded by humping her ass cheeks against Vanessa’s hands. The cheeks were parted, and Vanessa’s finger found her way into Clarice’s asshole, prompting a loud:

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!” from her naked former student.

They stayed on the couch and played with one another until they both had cum. Then they lounged with one another.

Finally, it was Vanessa who spoke up: “Out to lunch? My treat?”

“Oh, yes,” Clarice said, “Lovely idea.”

The End.

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