Kat and Jen left that Sunday afternoon; exhausted and happy. I was in much the same condition, but couldn't take the time to rest just yet. I had taken my relationship with Miss Steph to a new level, and if I was to keep the ground I had gained, I would have to push forward even more. Steeping a large pot of peppermint tea, I pulled out my address book and started making a few select phone calls.

The faculty of a private college such as Ridgemar gets to be very close. Some closer than others. I'd been at the Academy for almost ten years, and had quickly learned my way around the politics of the place--both academic and personal. With the final arrangements made on Monday morning, I was ready for Miss Steph's arrival.

She arrived well before the bell rang to start the 5th period, and took her assigned seat against the wall to my left. Her posture was straight, and her pose almost perfect. I glanced indifferently at her several minutes after she arrived, but said nothing. I preferred that she experience some anticipation. Like all young girls, she needed to learn patience--and the only way to learn patience is to be patient. I continued with the stack of work I had in front of me. Taking time off over the weekend meant that I had more papers piled up for me on my return. Admittedly, it was my own fault for assigning them, but that is one of the prices one must pay to be a teacher.

It was almost 10 minutes after the start of the period when I finally reached a stopping point in my work.

"Good afternoon, Miss Steph."

"Good afternoon, Sir."

"There are two items of importance for you today. The first is your new job. I have discussed it with the Headmistress, and you are, as of today, hired on to be my maid. Your official duties are to maintain the cleanliness of my home, prepare 3 meals a week, and attend to whatever domestic tasks as may arise." My look changed to a more serious one. "Unofficially, it means you will be in my home every weekday evening for 3 hours, and every Saturday for a minimum of 8--as my slave. I will lay out the rules when you report for your fist day of work. First, you must report to the office to fill out all the appropriate paperwork. You may do that after classes. Right now, we need to move on to your education in your new role.

"Today, we will begin teaching you some new skills. If you are to serve me, you will need to be adept at meeting my needs. Your fist area of study will be your oral skills. As you found out Saturday from Jen, a woman with a skilled tongue can be very pleasing. I am quite confident that you're lacking in those skills, and I will not allow an untrained woman to waste my time. I am very demanding in what I expect. Since you will not be allowed to practice on me, and I am most certainly not going to allow another man to be the first to feel your tongue wrap around him, we have a bit of a problem on how you might attain the skill. Fortunately, I have a solution. Miss Campos has graciously accepted the task of training you."

Maritse Campos was the school librarian. A statuesque brunette with a classical form and an dark, exotic look brought out by the Spanish side of her ancestry. She was only 4 years out of college, but had managed to get the position here based on her exceptional skills, a few powerful contacts, and a bit of luck. Knowing the members of the Board of Trustees, I'm sure that her looks were of no small import in the decision, either. When she had first arrived at Ridgemar, she and I had engaged in a few minor flirtations. While we had both enjoyed each other--in many ways--her tastes ran more towards the dominant side, which caused problems. We still get together on the rare occasion, but anything serious isn't of interest to either of us. She was, however, quite willing to help me out with this little project. I'm sure I would be paying her back in a manner that would be just as enjoyable for me.

"You will go to the library and report to Miss Campos. I know how long it takes to walk from here to there, and if you are tardy, it will be noted and dealt with later. Once you have reported to Miss Campos, you will proceed to the north end of the 4th floor. There are a number of study rooms there. You will go into room number 3 and remove your clothing. All of it." I watched as her eyes widened. She was well aware that the study rooms had large windows in the to prevent the students from using them for the exact purpose we would be.

"Once you have removed your clothing and folded it neatly on the desk, you will take the pair of handcuffs that will be there, and put them on yourself. You will do so that your arms are locked behind your back. You are then to leave that room and walk down to room number 1 in the corner. You will kneel and await Miss Campos. She will instruct you from that point. "

Steph's eyes had surprise to a mix of anticipation and fear. I watched as her chest rose and fell in a quickened pace. I couldn't tell, however, which held the greater sway-- fear, or anticipation.

"Do you understand your instructions?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you follow them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good." I took a deep breath and let it out easily. "One final detail. Just for my own enjoyment. Give me your panties."

She was learning. There was only the briefest of hesitancies before she stood up, reached beneath her black and green skirt, and slid the white lace panties down her legs, never bending her knees except to pull her feet out, one by one. Being a fast and intuitive student, she folded the panties neatly, as if they were to be in a store display, and handed them to me.

"You may leave now."

"Yes, sir."

I smiled as I watched her walk away. There was the slightest extra sway in her hips as she strode towards the door. I wondered how long that sway would last once she had entered the hallway. It was a 10 minute walk across campus to get to the library. A 10 minute walk outside in the brisk and breezy New England fall; and she with no panties. My thumb idly stroked the lace that I still held and I smiled at the thought of it.

A quick IM to Maritse let her know that Steph was on her way, and when she had left. I took a few moments to organize my desk, then returned to my computer. With a couple clicks, I had the media player opened in two windows. One showed the video stream from study room number 3, the other from study room number 5. Maritse was more than just a librarian, she also had a firm understanding of networking and protocols.

It took almost 15 minutes for Steph to make it to study room number 3. She entered the room hesitantly, then stood looking around the small empty space. A small desk was built into the wall to the left, and a single wooden chair sat tucked under it. Hanging neatly over the back of that chair was a pair of police-issue, stainless steel handcuffs. There was no key to be seen. Standing in the corner by the solid door, Steph began to slowly remove her clothes. Her shoes slipped off with no effort, and nimble toes pulled the socks off her feet. With a deep sigh, and a worried look out the window to the library beyond, she began to unbutton her shirt. I smiled with approval as I noticed that under the crisp cotton was a very delicate lace bra. She had learned her lessons, it had seemed. She dropped her shirt to the floor without thinking, then stopped and looked down at it. Bending over at the waist, she picked it up, and folded it neatly. Somehow she knew that these little details were important to me. With a cautious look out the window again, she laid the shirt neatly on the small desk.

I watched as her chest rose and fell with her tense breaths. She popped the buttons on her skirt and let it fall to the ground. Stepping out from the puddle of plaid cloth at her feet, she folded it, too, and laid it neatly on the desk. With a look of resignation, Steph picked up the handcuffs and just held them for a long while. Finally, she locked one side around her wrist, took a deep breath, put her hands behind her back, and locked the second cuff on her other wrist. The position of her restrained arms caused her back to arch, and her small breasts to push out ever so slightly. I felt my breath draw deep and slow as I looked at the picture of her on my screen. What was she thinking right now? What was her reaction? Her desire?

Taking a moment to peek out the window, checking so see if the room outside was clear of fellow students, Steph grabbed the door handle behind her back and drew the door open. Now resigned to her task, she strode the 15 feet to the other study room with almost a sense of pride. This was who she was. This is what she was supposed to do. She quickly vanished from the view of the small camera as she stepped out the door and turned right. I closed that window on my monitor, and switched to the one which showed room #5. Maritse was already sitting in the room, her demeanor that of the perfect librarian. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, her thin-rimmed glasses sat perfectly even across her face. She wore a loose white blouse which, in hiding her body, only served to broadcast the fact that what was hidden was definitely worth discovering. Her classically-cut gray skirt was slit far enough up the side to show the lace top of her stockings--the seams of which ran up the back of her leg with almost laser precision.

Maritse had placed the camera for maximum view of the small room, but that left the door out of sight. Through the small microphone, however, I could hear the brief jiggling of the handle as Steph attempted to open it with her restrained hands.

"Good afternoon, Miss Stephanie."

"Good afternoon, Ms. Campos."

"It appears that you've followed the instructions very well so far. Though it did take a bit longer than necessary, perhaps."

"I'm sorry, Miss Campos."

"Well that's something for Porter to deal with as he sees fit. That's not my responsibility. My job is to teach you. Come here. Kneel there" she pointed to the floor to the right of her knees. "Have you ever been with a woman before?"

"No ma'am."

"Hmm... A complete novice. Sometimes interesting.... sometimes a waste of time. You, however, look promising. And from the things Porter has told me, you have a some real potential."

Maritse stood and slowly began to undress. When all that was left were her stockings, she adjusted the plain wooden chair to face Steph and sat down again, crossing her legs in a very lady-like manner. Reaching up behind her head, she pulled the long pins which held her hair so precisely, shaking the long black mane out to fall down around her shoulders, and over her breasts. With smooth strokes of her hand, she deftly swept her hair back behind her and looked down at the young girl at her feet.

The position of the chair gave me a 3/4 view of the two women, the best angle for seeing the most of what was going on. Maritse knew exactly what she was doing. Uncrossing her legs to reveal her neatly-trimmed mons, the older woman leaned forward just enough to draw a subtle arch in her back, and placed two delicate fingers under Steph's chin.

"Now.... Shall we begin?"

I shifted in my seat just a bit as I watched.

"I don't know how much experience you have being on the receiving end. Have you much to use as a reference?"

"No, ma'am."

"A few things to remember, then. There is an art to pleasing a woman. If you can please a woman, you can please a man. They are so much easier." She glanced at the camera with a brief, wicked smile. I had to chuckle to myself, but could only agree.

"It's not only about the destination. It's about the path you take to get there. But make no mistake... the destination *is* important. There is no one way to please a woman--or a man--with your mouth. Each person is different. Each time is different." Maritse reached a hand forward and pulled Steph's head gently into her thighs; directing it not to her mons, but to the inside of her left thigh. "Today, start soft and gentle, kissing the skin with light whispers. Pull away slowly, feeling the barely moist skin of your lips sticking to the warm softness of my skin, as if reluctant to let go. Let your breath become an extension of your mouth, stroking along my skin, caressing it's softness. Mmmmm... yes. Like that."

One of the things that had impressed me about Maritse was her ability to maintain her concentration despite significant distractions. It is difficult to give detailed instructions when someone is running their lips along your thighs. Her control was amazing. That, unfortunately, was a large part of why we didn't work out--she enjoyed being in control as much as I. And she was not willing to give it up for any but the briefest of times. Two dominants may find common ground in sex and conversation, but they do not make for a good relationship.

These thoughts, however, did not distract me from watching the monitor. Maritse wound her hand into Steph's hair, controlling her movements, her force of attack. The lesson progressed slowly. Maritse kept her instructions up as long as she could. But at the last, even the untrained lips of my young slave were enough to send her over the edge. Steph's first lesson had been a success.

As it always did, it took Maritse several minutes to come down from her orgasm. She was one of those women who was able to completely immerse herself in her pleasure. If only she had been submissive, I thought, we could have had an amazing relationship.

Even though Maritse had cum--and quite intensely, from what I could see--Steph didn't stop. She knew enough to continue to tease the older woman , slowly letting her down from her pleasure. This was not something that Maritse had taught her--this was her own initiative. Underneath that shy, calm exterior was a woman who knew how to please. And that young woman was mine... if I could challenge her enough to keep her.