"So, do you think it worked?" Joey said as we walked out.
"I think so. And if it didn't, she'll just have to live with it. I don't want to fight my urge to fuck like that again. I was considering even doing her ass."
"And what an ass it was.." Joey said remembering. "You know something? I kind of hope she doesn't lose all that weight. She's so big.. She's fucking erotic."
"Yeah, me too. Listen, I'm going to sixth period. Do you want to keep an eye on Suzi's fun, or shall I?"
"Uhm, I was kinda hoping you would join me for some fun ourselves, but if you don't feel like it.. I can do it."
"Thanks Joey. I'll meet you in the weight room after school," I said as I hurried away. I had a very good reason to not miss the beginning of sixth hour.
Mrs. Johnson taught the Consumer Economics class I took that second semester. It wasn't until the third day sitting in her class that I ran across something interesting about her.
I was browsing a few of my classmate's heads who I was not familiar with, when I suddenly felt a weak probe touch me. I instantly concentrated on my work, some how managing to keep my excitement from forming until after the probe finished. Once I concluded that the probe wasn't going to return, I started doing my own probing, using my empathic skills which could not be detected by others.
I had scanned the entire class, and almost gave up when I noticed Mrs. Johnson staring intensely at a girl named Becky. When I scanned Mrs. Johnson, I found her aroused, and seemed to feel a need to dominate someone. When I determined she wasn't really aware how her probing actually worked, I took a chance and probed her thoughts.
What I found had surprised me, and I had been strongly tempted to get involved in her game of domination and submission. But the old me felt it would be wrong to tamper in this case, and pushed my good ideas about it out of my mind.
Today I was going put several of those ideas to work. As I sat down in my seat, I checked to get caught up on Mrs. Johnson's plans. I was a little disappointed to find she had rescheduled her after school get-together tomorrow for next week, but that wasn't going to spoil my fun today.
Mrs. Johnson and I both carefully watched Becky come into the classroom and sit down at her desk. Becky kept her eyes lowered, feeling Mrs. Johnson's steady gaze beat down on her, making Becky's heart pound and stirring the tingling feeling in her groin. Just before the bell rang, my own steady gaze was noticed, first by Becky, followed by Mrs. Johnson.
When Becky gave an involuntary shudder of pleasure, Mrs. Johnson suddenly found herself with a competitor. The very idea one of her students could possibly dominate her own submissives, and possibly herself, stirred her anger, and to her surprise, her lust.
She switched mental gears when the bell rang. She started class just as usual, but her eyes kept returning and lingering on me as she talked. When she passed out the workbooks we were going to be using for the rest of the year, she attempted to begin her domination of me by holding the workbook out too far away for me to reach without stretching.
Oh, she was good. She made it appear as if she had too many of them in her hands and would drop them if she attempted to hand me mine. But instead of getting up and giving in to her game, I simply asked the person in front of me to grab one and pass it back.
I saw the momentary fury in her eyes, and gave my response with a wink. That did make her drop the workbooks, and while the others around her helped pick them up, I just sat there ignoring the fact that they were piled around my feet.
I watched her thoughts as she lectured on today's material, finding her interlacing her presentation with brief thoughts of our power struggle. She slipped once by starting the word 'domination' on the board, realizing her error by the time she had made it to the 'a'.
She had to fight her own arousal when she looked at me while she erased the word. My gaze let her know that I had been very amused by her lack of control. The embarrassment she felt was amplified and went straight to her crotch. And so far, I hadn't done anything but monitor her thoughts.
When she didn't continue her dual thought processes, I decided to do something else. The next time she gazed at me with a dominating look, I simply turned my head slowly towards Becky and gazed at her with my own domination stare. Naturally, Mrs. Johnson followed my gaze to her newest toy, then quickly glanced back and forth between us a few times. Our little staring games hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of the class, and her moving eyes had caused some discussion.
Mrs. Johnson got a hold of herself and announced we would have a little quiz. She was sure I hadn't been concentrating on the material she had just presented, and she was right there. After the quiz, she assigned us some work in the workbook while she graded the quizzes. She didn't dig mine out like she wanted to, not wishing to give me the satisfaction of grading mine first. To her dismay, I got a perfect score, never noticing I had written as she called out the questions, listening to the answers as she thought them.
She looked up from my quiz to see me hard at work with a smile creeping onto my face. I didn't look up, but mouthed the word "submit" which made her even more furious and wet.
Her eyes didn't stay long, but took a glance at Becky before making them stay on the papers she was grading. When she finished her work, she finally allowed herself to look up, finding me missing from my desk.
Her eyes shot straight over to Becky's also empty desk, then stood up quickly with shock and rage.
"Where did they go!" she demanded from the class.
To her astonishment, no one seemed to know who "Tim and Becky" were. As far as they knew, our two seats had always been empty. But when a girl asked what 'submit - teacher's lounge' was on the board for, her frustration ended as she felt her body go cold with fear. She told the class that she had to step out, and may not be back in time for dismissal.
As she made her way to the teacher's lounge, Mrs. Johnson started to recover from her momentary weakness. By the time she made it to the lounge's door, she was not only over it, but furious by my actions.
She flung the door open and stomped in with fire in her eyes, and had to quickly extinguish them when she nearly walked straight into Principal Higgs.
"Nancy, what's the matter?" he asked her. "Rough day?"
"Just this hour. Have you seen two of my students in here?" she said with a remaining hint of anger.
"No, but someone did leave a message for you on the message board. What does 'submit - conference room 2' mean?"
She didn't answer, just took a quick glance at my message and took off out the door.
"I guess she doesn't need this any more," Higgs said to another teacher as he erased the dry erase marker off the message board.
"Why did you write it on there in the first place?" the teacher asked.
"No idea. Just all of a sudden I felt... Hmm... I think I better catch up with Mrs. Johnson," Higgs said before he hurried out.
When he reached the conference room, Mrs Johnson had already come and gone. He glanced at the chalk board and nearly blew his top at the message.
"submit - Higgs' office.... Why that little manipulator," he muttered as hurried out the door. He glanced at my three private rooms across the hall and said loudly, "Tim, you better not be doing what I think you're doing."
"I'm not," I said to myself as I watched his mind hurry down the stairs towards the second floor. "Becky, take your shirt off and show me how pretty your tits are. NOW, slut!" I said forcefully, sending a wave of pleasure through her body.
"Yes,.. uhm, ah..."
"Master."
"Yes, master. OH!" Becky shuttered as her orgasm rippled through her, triggered from her own words.
The secretary had just sat back down in her chair when Higgs rushed in and went straight to his office. A moment later he came out and said, "Has anyone been in my office since I left?"
"No, not that I know of," his secretary said. Then as he hurried back out, she suddenly noticed she had chalk dust on her skirt.
"I wonder how that happened," she said as she shook off the remains of my message she forgot she had erased.
The bell rang as Mrs. Johnson arrived at her last message. She was out of breath, tired, and sweating from all her activity. She didn't actually expect to find me or Becky in the faculty women's rest room, and she was right. But what she didn't expect to find was the message 'Submissive, go home' written with lipstick on the mirror.
Mrs. Johnson stood there staring at the mirror, not knowing what to do. Her eyes suddenly focused on her reflection, seeing her usually orderly image completely disorganized and out of control. Her hair was a mess, and her sweat had ruined her makeup. She stared at this stranger, realizing she had lost.
She sighed her surrender, then attempted to make herself look half-way decent. Once the halls had quieted down a bit, she strode out of the restroom and made her way towards her room.
Higgs found her as she walked down the hall on the second floor.
"Are you okay?" he asked her.
"I'm fine. I just... had a little trouble with a student, but we worked it out."
"Well, I hope you did. I watched your class until dismissal. Don't leave them like that again," he scolded.
"I won't," she said, never looking up. She couldn't bear for him to see how defeated she felt. How she felt intimidated by him. Even submissive to him. She had always been the dominate one, even when dealing with Higgs, her boss. The power gave her such a rush. She never imagined how hot submitting to someone would make her feel.
"Nancy, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm just a little tired, that's all. Thank you for watching my class for me. I won't let it happen again."
Higgs was about to say something, then shrugged and gave her a friendly pat on the back before leaving her at the door of her own room.
She walked up to her desk, and suddenly noticed the message on the board.
"Turn around?" she said out loud. Then she did so.
I sat in the back row with my feet up on the chair in front of me. She stared at me, not moving, not knowing what to do.
"Nancy, come here," I said when her gaze finally dropped down submissively.
She walked up to me, nervous and slightly scared. I sat up and took her limp hand, then guided her into the seat my feet had just vacated.
I looked into her eyes, which immediately looked down again. But the returned to mine when I stroked her cheek, and then I started to see her fear.
"I.. don't think this is a good idea.. I'm your teacher and.."
"That has never stopped you before. I know all about your little 'study' group. I bet they're not as submissive as Becky, but I have to admit you're quite good at breaking them in."
"Where is Becky? You didn't... do anything to her, did you?"
"I had her show me her tits, then sent her to catch the bus. I'm not going to hurt her. Besides, she's a virgin. She's not going to lose it with me."
"What about me?"
"What about you. Look, all I want to do is join your little study groups once in a while. I'm not going to make you give up your position as their Mistress. I just wanted to get it straight that I'm NOT one of your play things. And it's up to you to be my play thing."
"So, you're not going to make me do anything?" she said, hopeful and disappointed at the same time.
"You're not getting off that easy. I've had a hardon for most of the day thinking about your naked ass. So after you shut that door and do a little strip show, I'm gonna make you so hot and horny, your gonna beg to suck your master's cock."
My words produced mixed results. Despite the new feelings her submission were creating, the old domineering ones were trying to surface again.
I stood up and moved in front of her, holding her down when she attempted to rise. My hardon was evident in my tight jeans, and she almost pulled herself out of my grasp when she saw it. I got up on my tip toes so it was level with her mouth and nose, then took a hold of her head of hair with one hand, sending a shiver down her body.
"When your master tells you to do something, his slut obeys," I said as I pushed her nose and mouth into the crotch of my jeans. "Smell it, bitch. Take it deep into your slutty lungs, you slutty cock sucking whore, you. You'd suck of the entire school if I asked you to, wouldn't you? Just so you can smell my prick and balls again. That's it. Breathe it in. Getting yourself soo wet and hot. It really is turning you on, you slut. You bitch, you cock sucking, cum slurping, high school whore.
"Yeah, that's it. Use your mouth. Try to suck it through my pants. Let yourself lose control... That's right, slut."
I had let go of her head and was standing flat on the ground. I could feel how she had submitted her control to her own lust. When she started to slip her hands up to the waistline of my jeans, I reached down to her bra protected nipples and gave them a twist. The pain she felt was mostly simulated by my mental commands, since my fingers had barely even been able to pinch them, let alone twist.
"Ow! What did you do that for!" she recoiled.
"I think you know why. I'm afraid we are going to have to continue this another time. I'm already late meeting my buddy."
"Well, I'm not sure there will be another time," she said, standing up and massaging her stinging nipples through her bra.
I walked up to her with a powerful gaze of confidence which she managed to counter with her own. But when I suddenly lurched at her and grabbed her by the shoulders, her eyes showed fear as I forced her on her knees.
She was about to scream for help when I kissed her on the forehead and said, "Don't worry, I'd never hurt you. If tomorrow in class you don't want to continue, I'll never mention it again."
Nancy relaxed a little, finding my shoulder massage starting to feel good despite herself.
"And just so you have something to look forward to..." I said reaching down into her shirt and under her bra. I started kneading her left breast, working at a slow, but steadily increasing speed. She resisted my touch for only the first few moments, but now had her eyes closed and was feeling herself submit again. I wasn't using my magic touch, just my fingers and palm. But I was using every resource I had to monitor and measure the stimulus she was feeling.
I gambled that I could get a little rough with her breast, and proceeded to clasp my hand harder. She gasped, and fought against letting out a moan, but ultimately relented and gave me a nice loud one by the fifth clasp.
I continued my gamble, getting even rougher and harder, and managed to find her maximum tolerance without causing her undo pain. I gave her another kiss on her forehead before withdrawing my hand, and simply left her on her knees without a word.