Chapter 4

Approximately 12:30 P.M.

“Please reschedule my 12:30 appointment and in the future pencil my son in for this time slot, Mrs. Lucero,” I asked politely as I emerged from my office with my eldest son.

My hair was a mess, my face was sticky, and it was pretty obvious I’d been fucked into the middle of next week. The office girls chuckled, and Mrs. Lucero, the office secretary, said she would make a note of it, but she didn’t write anything down.

“Who was next to see Mrs. Mcgifford?” my son used my last name like it was sour in his mouth. A few students were waiting to see other counselors or the Principal in the office.

A young boy I had fucked a few times before raised his hand. Master Joe asked him what his name was. He told me to apologize to him after hearing that the young lad was to be my next appointment.

I am sorry, Mr. Bingham. I have pressing business to take care of,” I mumbled to the young boy. It was pretty apparent my face was still glazed in dried cum I’d been unable to lick off. I must have looked absurd and yet I held my composure –tits out, shoulders back. It was amazing how much my posture training at home had stuck with me.

Master Joe told me to do much better than that. I thought he might spank me right there in the front office in front of everyone.

“I am such a lazy cow, Mister Bingham! I’ve fallen behind in my work today. I am going to make it up to you when I see you next time and we can talk about my punishment for disappointing you then,” I said boldly. I could tell from the faces and raised eyebrows of the office staff that they knew exactly what I was implying. I made my offer in a very natural way but it still sounded like bad dialogue from a cheesy porn movie.

The pimple-faced teenager with the high pitched voice smirked and chuckled. He was clearly enjoying my fresh humiliation when I apologized to him for not being able to fuck him this afternoon.

My son dropped his pen right in front of the boy and looked at me expectantly. He seemed to enjoy my apprehension and the mortified expression on my face. I saw no reason to disappoint him. “Let me pick that up for you, Sir,” I said to my son.

He stopped me before I could bend and the waist and spun his finger in a circle so that I would be facing my ass toward Mr. Bingham and several other students as I retrieved the pen. I bent deeply and kept my legs apart. I know I was giving them a full view of my butt plug and my bald, wet pussy as I bent over. I was sure my bottom was still red, and my pussy lips were stretched out and puffy from the work out they received. I heard tittering giggles as I handed the pen to my son. I kept my back arched and my butt stuck out. I knew all eyes were on the hem of my short skirt as it dangled just below the bottom rim of my butt cheeks.

“Oopsie” my son pretended to be a butterfingers and dropped it again. I took my time this time and really gave them a show. I jiggled my butt cheeks a little as I did. It wasn’t until I handed my son the pen the second time and looked over my shoulder that I noticed the Principal walking past the office. He was watching me through the window. Students were changing classes, and I am sure some of the kids in the hallway saw me as well.

“Mrs. Lucero, if the trash needs emptying or anything needs to be picked up, my mother would be happy to take care of that for you,” my son offered my services to the office secretary. She had basically been my assistant before my transformation.

“The janitor normally takes care of that,” she shrugged.

“Yes, but during the day, feel free to call on my mom if anything needs to be picked up,” he winked at her. He told me, “I expect the trash in the office emptied before I get here from now on and at the end of the day!”

“Yes, Sir, even the other administrator’s offices?” I asked.

My son looked at me like I should know better than to ask and to assume that I should do that. “Yes, I’d like you to see if the janitor has any chores for you whenever you have free time. Let’s go,” he slapped my bottom in front of everyone and escorted me out of the office.

“I want you wearing your dog collar at work from now on,” my son laid out another rule and then stopped me when we got in the hallway. Students were walking past us, and he thought nothing of adjusting my cleavage, so it was much more pronounced and tweaking my nipples through my top. “You are a pig, but you are a reflection on me as well. You need to work on how stingy you’ve been with your body. You are doing better but I don’t want you to feel like a celebrity. Everyone in the school thinks you are this hot to trot guidance counselor. I need you to act more like the whore you truly are,” he informed me.

I nodded and agreed with him that I would obey his instructions. I even thanked him for pointing that out to me. I was flattered to be called “Hot to trot”. I smiled at him when he said it.

“You are to expose yourself right up to a point it would be public indecency,” he said as if he didn’t care who heard it. He smacked my bottom and put his arm around the base of my neck and hustled me through the hallways. He intentionally bumped me into underclassmen and made sure that when I collided with them, my tits were in their face.

“You are a slut, and you need to be knocked down a peg! You have been getting away with dressing like a slut. You’ve been able to get away with the bare minimum of what is legally allowed in public. You can accidentally flash a lot more, and you haven’t been doing that on your own. That changes today, Cunt!” my son lifted up my skirt rapidly to emphasize that I should be doing my best to show myself off when I am walking around in public.

“I want you to be a little more accident prone, twinkle toes. Anytime you walk through the halls, you are to accidentally bump into guys. I don’t mean handsome ones either. I am talking little squirts who might get their jollies from feeling you up when you do. I want you to drop your pen or pick something up anytime you enter a room at school.

“Yes sir, but won’t flashing and showing off make me MORE prideful and vain?” I asked. I am a closeted extrovert, and all the extra attention turned me on even if I don’t always admit it to myself.

“It would if that was your decision and you get to control how and when you do it. You will be doing it because you were told to flash and expose yourself. You will be doing it in the most trashy and degrading ways possible so that you are exposed for the whore you are. There is a difference between that and being a runway model with every lash in place who dresses sexy because she is empowered to make that choice. You still want to be my slut?” he asked me as he slapped my ass with his book. My son clearly wasn’t concerned that some students were in the hallway. I turned beet red and I felt a shiver of humiliation along with the tingle of the hard book he whapped across my bottom.

“Yes, Master,” I yelped.

“If the trash is full when you visit a classroom, I want you to bend over at the waist and really take your time. Face your ass towards the most people in the class and pick it up and take it to the janitor,” he said.

“I don’t normally visit classrooms, sir,” I explained as if trying to make an excuse for why I couldn’t do that. I was also mortified that my son wanted me to expose myself more than I already had been.

“You do now,” he said as he stuffed me tits-first into two freshmen boys. I thanked them, and one of them goosed me as I slipped past them.

“If they goose you like that, I want you to back up on their finger. Don’t pass up an opportunity. Wait a minute and let them cop a feel,” he said. “You are going to go as far as you can in public without getting arrested or losing your job, and even then, I want you to push those limits! You’ve had it way too easy!”

I agreed with him that he has been more than generous with me. He had overlooked a lot of my sloppy behavior and let me get away with things his father or even Mister Kyle would have called out. I thought Master Joe just didn’t care to be as involved in my training. Master Joe had a very laissez-faire style to managing me. If I asked him something, he would tell me, but otherwise, he generally let me self-discipline myself at school. I have even put myself in a corner when I knew I fucked up and no one was there to tell me I did something wrong.

It seemed like he had just been holding himself back.

“Should we go back and ask them if they want a feel, Sir?” I asked him delicately. I was feeling nervous that we were going to be so over the top, not only did I get fired, but I might end up in jail.

I was also feeling nervous that I would have to finally be the public slut that I had fantasized about, and I wasn’t sure I could go as far as he wanted. I was thrilled when he told me that these rules were not optional.

“No, but I want you to apologize to them if you see them again. You can proactively offer your cunt, tits, and ass as compensation for being rude back there and not giving them a proper feel. Don’t beg them to spank you or beat you, though. That’s my job now, and I’ll make sure you get enough of it,” he said. He scraped my tits across a row of lockers as he pushed me into them while we hustled down the hallway.

“We are going to the gym. You need some shorty-shorts to wear from now on. You’ll be jogging every day,” he said.

The coach Mr. Andretti was one of my regular fuck buddies now, and he wasn’t surprised when my son showed up with me. He’d been fucking me before we had the conversation with our kids about my new role.

“What’s going on, McGifford?” the Coach stood with his hands on his hips. I used to say he was smuggling grapes because you could see the outline of his balls in his athletic shorts.

“Mom wants to suck your cock and then run a little track,” he said without concern for who might hear.

“That can be arranged,” the coach was chewing gum and nodded his head. He looked at my son like he was a little confused about his involvement.

“My son is my Master now, Sir,” I explained to him. It seemed surreal to say it out loud.

“You are one fucked up family! But I love it,” the Coach chewed his gum and pointed us in the direction of the office. The coach either really didn’t care or wasn’t surprised by anything I did now that he knew the extent of the previsions I would freely engage in with him.

“Good job,” my son smacked my bottom and told me to undress in his office. We were entering the BOY’S LOCKER ROOM! His office windows were visible to anyone who was using the locker room.

“Oh, stop being so fucking shy! you act like a god damned virgin sometimes,” my son yanked my hair back and grabbed my throat. “If you are going to be a slut then fucking act like one. I am not giving you an order twice. Do what you were told,” he released me.

I began to strip by removing my bottoms first and then my top. There was no one in the locker room, but the possibility someone could walk in was very high.

The coach saw me as he entered the locker room and quickly lowered the shades. “McGifford, you want me to lose my job?” he chided my son for making me strip this way. He didn’t wait for an answer to his rhetorical question before inferring my son should leave and give him some privacy with me.

“When he is done with you, fish out some tight shorts and a white shirt from the lost and found and run laps until the end of class. Then come find me. I’ll be in History class,” he slapped my bare ass and made me bend over.

I felt him pop a golf ball into my pussy. He pushed it and hooked his fingers to seat it so far past my cervix that it would not fall out on its own. “You’ll leave that in until I tell you to take it out. If it drops on the floor, you will wash it with your mouth, return it to where it belongs and tell me how many times you fucked up when you see me,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I answered him.

“Okay, Okay, McGifford. You can play with your Mom’s pussy later. Let me get my nut,” the Coach was belligerent by nature. My son left his office and offered him a playful salute as he shut the door. The coach pulled down the shades so that no one could see in. Then he waited for me to get down on my knees and pull his shorts down for him. I put my hands behind my head and started sucking the tip of his cock and teasing it.

“So what is the deal with Claire? She like you now?” he asked as I slurped his prick.

I didn’t understand the question and told him that she wasn’t a slave like me. I was surprised he’d even ask that. His bulge grew, and he pushed his dick further into my mouth so that I could barely answer his question.

“She’s been acting weird lately,” he said as he let me slurp his cock. It was intensely humiliating to discuss my daughter while I gave him head. I was curious, though, and I asked him what he meant.

“She’s been wearing tight little shorts and bending over like you. She has started palling around with her little brother Kirk or Kyle? I call him Wagon Wheels because he can’t climb rope,” the coach chewed gum while he thought about it.

It was good that Miss Claire and Mr. Kyle were getting along. They may have been bonding over their recent promotion in the house over me. That was an unintended side effect of my discipline if it was true. Miss Claire had been wearing tight-fitting clothes when we went jogging, so I assumed this was just an extension of her growing comfort with her body. Miss Claire has an extroverted side, just like I did even if she didn’t want to admit it.

She was experiencing the same sensation of power and control I did when my tits started to sprout at her age. Claire could make men stare at her, and she enjoyed that, but it was always on her terms. I didn’t think much of his comment at the time, though. It was probably wishful thinking on his part that my daughter was interested in sucking his sour-tasting, sweaty nuts.

“You are a fucking hot mess now,” he looked down at me with condescension on his face. “You’ve obviously got jizz drying on your face, and you are walking around with your tits, basically hanging out. I am surprised Gentry hasn’t given you the boot yet. You give good head, but Jesus Christ, you aren’t subtle,” he said.

I had no defense for my actions, and I told him I was sorry.

“Shut up and give me head, you dumb cunt” Mr. Andretti wasn’t one for talking. He quickly nutted in my mouth. I didn’t bring my condom, so I showed it to him by opening my mouth and asking him if I could swallow.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do with it,” Mr. Andretti was already done with me. He wiped his dick in my hair and pulled his athletic shorts back up.

I swallowed his jizz and thanked him. “My son told me to pick some shorts and a top from the lost and found. Will that be a problem?” I asked.

“I told you I don’t give a fuck,” Mr. Andretti began chewing his gum as he watched me rifle through the shorts and tops to find something to wear. My son had been very explicit that I would need to take every opportunity to show my body when I can. If it was going to go beyond any public indecency laws, I could probably get away with making it look like an accident when possible.

I knew my son would not be in class, and I could probably get away with a tight pair of shorts and a white tank top. He might have friends watching me to report on my behavior. It made it easier to choose to obey his order to go as far as I can to expose myself without losing my job. The fact that I was obeying someone else’s rules made it easier for me to turn off my brain and not question just how revealing the tight little outfit was going to be.

I picked the tiniest pair of shorts that would have barely fit a freshman and wiggled into them. The waistband was about the size I would have been comfortable with for a single one of my legs. The shorts rode up so high that I was positive the lipstick with my name written on my ass could be seen on the bottom half of my butt cheeks.

I picked a white tank top and then tied it up so that my belly button was exposed, tweaked my nipples until they were hard and visible through the material and sashayed out of the coach’s office. Mr. Andretti watched me get dressed and pretended not to care the entire time, but I was pretty sure he was hard again before I left.

Walking with a golf ball in my pussy was not easy. I could feel it rolling around like a mouse ball inside of me every time I took a step. I wore my high heels because my son did not tell me to run barefoot. It was hot outside. I wasn’t sure whether it was worse to walk barefoot on hot gravel or wear my four-inch high heels and jog.

I started to trot over to the track, and I hiked up my shorts so that I was showing off the outline of my camel toe. They rode up my ass crack. My tits bounced and flopped as I jiggle-joggled like I did around the neighborhood.

Boys and girls share the class because it is co-ed. I was instantly spotted running awkwardly, and I could hear their laughs and jeers. I smiled as I passed them and pretended what I was doing was perfectly normal. Many teachers walked during their lunch breaks for health, but I was the only one who would be jogging.

I was lucky that Claire and Kyle were not in the class either. I noticed the faces of the students. There were several I’ve had sex with, and quite a few who knew my reputation. They didn’t hesitate to yell out rude cat-calls. I smiled and waved.

“Show us your tits!” one boy yelled as he watched me. I was clearly a distraction from whatever sport they were supposed to be playing.

I remembered my son telling me that if someone asks to see my tits, I have to show them. This was the first test of that order. It just so happened to have come while I was jogging around our school track in front of approximately forty students.

Once I made another loop around the track, I told myself I would obey my son. I was nervous, and I wasn’t sure if my plan would work, but my son didn’t tell me I had to make it look intentional. In fact, he’d told me I could make it look accidental.

I untied the knot holding my tank top up and let it flap. My intention was to see if I could make it appear natural that the sweaty tank top flew up while I ran past the students again. Instead, I face planted on the ground face first. There was a tremendous amount of laughter as I crashed into the pavement.

After all the beatings I had received in the last few weeks, I found it strangely exhilarating to scratch my knees and face up on the pavement. Naturally, the kids started laughing, and a few even seemed concerned. I began to get up, and as I did, I realized my sweaty top was covered in dirt and gravel. “Ooh, ants! Yucky! Ants!” I shouted, and I pulled the top off over my head and shook it out.

I couldn’t look at any of their faces while I stood there shaking my tank top and pretending it was covered in ants. “Oopsie,” I said as I quickly covered myself with the flimsy top.

I was satisfied that some of them were stunned into silence. They didn’t see all that much they hadn’t already seen anyway. After three laps, I was drenched in a fine sheen of my own sweat, and my wet shirt didn’t hide the bounce, jiggle, or outline of my tits. My nipples were practically extended two inches.

However, revealing my tits for even that short time had seemed like I was back on stage dancing at my Cousin’s strip club in my home town. I had been on stage for only a short couple of songs, but all eyes had been on me, and for a few brief minutes, I was their entire world. It had been strangely exhilarating, and I ran on the adrenalin provided by giving them that show. My heel straps broke, and one of my heels popped off.

I was sure that someone would complain or tell the Principal. I was sure I’d probably lose my job any time soon now. I ran away and around the track. I had long periods to think to myself as I ran around the circular track. The students were only in one part of the field, and I was alone as I jogged for most of it. I jiggle-jogged

like the big-titted bimbo, I was training to be, but I took stock of what had happened to me today.

I had to carry my heels in my teeth as I finished my jog. I probably looked pathetic. I definitely understood my son’s observation that I wasn’t supposed to feel sexy and empowered. I felt trashy and exposed.

Surprisingly, none of it seemed all that bad. In fact, I was relieved that my son decided to participate more fully in my training. I had been worried I had pushed him into my BDSM lifestyle by exposing him to something he didn’t want to be a part of, and now he seemed excited to train me.

I know that makes me sound like the worst mother in the world, and maybe I am.

Approximately 1:00 P.M.

Once the period was over, I started to head back to the gym and the locker rooms to change. A boy ran up behind me and pulled my shorts down to my ankles, but he kept running. There was immediate laughter from the students around who saw him pants me. I was sure he was acting on a dare, and they were all in on it.

The shock and surprise caused me to reflexively pop the golf ball out of my pussy. It plonked out onto the floor. It was pink and coated in my pussy juices. I can’t say that I was mortified. Mortified is not strong enough of a word.

You know the movie Carrie when Sissy Spacek is standing on stage and thinks she has just been voted prom queen, but the mean girls set that up so they could pour pig blood on her? She becomes so humiliated she unlocks her unique psychic ability and destroys the gym and everything in it.

It was like that only instead of being angry, I laughed too. I planted my feet apart and bent at the waist to stick my ass out. My butt plug was probably visible between my parted ass cheeks. I waited and held my heels in my hand as I picked up the golf ball and sucked it clean like I was sucking the juice of a ripe plum in the summer sun.

I looked around without standing up and pulled the golf ball out of my mouth and then, with two fingers, inserted it into my bald pussy. It took a moment, and it felt amazing. I pushed it in so far that I knew it wouldn’t drop out easily again.

“Sorry about that!” I smiled like it had been my fault and then bent over again so that I could pull my shorts up. I pulled them up high to expose my camel toe and waddled back into the gym.

A silence fell across those who watched me expose myself this way as they processed what weird shit they had just seen. I think what I had done was so over the top that most of them felt no one would believe it if they hadn’t seen it. It was pretty wild to be able to hold my head up high and walk into the boy’s locker room.

I changed in the coach’s office without pulling down his shades. I pretended I didn’t notice I was being watched as I adjusted my butt plug and changed into my outfit. I strutted out of there with my cleavage exposed and my ass wiggling and a smile on my face. There was no salvaging my high heels. I would have to walk flat-footed around the school. Barefoot wouldn’t be allowed, so I picked some tennis shoes out of lost and found. They were ratty and probably too small.

I knew my son’s class, and I had to go upstairs to get to it during class change. I bumped into boys and excused myself coyly. I took extra care to choose boys I thought would enjoy the experience and who were not walking with girls. I was surprised a few of the students were annoyed due me bumping my tits or ass into them. I made it look like it was a happy accident. The majority of the students seemed to like it when I brushed up against them and even apologized to me.

One polite boy tried to avoid me. He moved left when I moved right, and we nearly collided. He backed up and tried to avoid me again. I was intentionally trying to run into him, and he seemed too polite to let me do that. I smiled and said, “Shall we dance?” as I jiggled my tits for him, and then I reached out and gave him a hug like I knew him.

I felt his boner press through his jeans into my leg, so I knew my mission was accomplished.

“What the fuck are you doing out of your fuck-cage?” Miss Claire questioned me when she noticed I was walking around the halls. She looked at me in disgust like I should know better than to leave my office.

“Your brother wanted me to report to him in class. He wants me to start training harder, Ma’am. I’m sorry about that. I have been very lax. I should have been coming out of my office and seeing if there was anything I could do for you or Mr. Kyle,” I said as I straightened for her.

Her friends were nearby, and they giggled.

“Ixnay!” Miss Claire gritted her teeth and signaled through Pig Latin; she wanted me to stop addressing her so formally. I nodded and obeyed her order.

“Well, the only thing you are doing running around here is embarrassing me!” she sneered. Then she stormed off with her friends giggling and talking about me. I felt ashamed of myself that I may be ruining her reputation at school by openly exposing myself the way I had been.

My daughter returned quickly after she got rid of her friends. She whispered, “When my friends are around, don’t call me Mistress or any of that shit! Don’t act like you obey me. Let me berate you and pretend I loathe you and think you are a dufus for showing your ass,” she explained. She seemed delighted that I looked so humiliated and tore up after my jog.

I was humiliated but also strangely flattered. She felt the need to return and tell me that. I read between the lines when she said she was just pretending that she actually approved of what I was doing.

“I am glad there is more than one guidance counselor in this school. You are out trying to blow the entire school now?” she asked.

“Your brother insisted that I come to see him in class, Miss Claire,” I answered her politely. I knew Claire was trying to make me angry by teasing me, but I wouldn’t let her have the satisfaction.

“Which brother? Joe or Mister Kyle?” she asked with sudden interest. I noticed she called her little brother “Mister Kyle” – it seemed like a simple mistake.

“Master Joe, Ma’am,” I answered her politely.

“Oh good, have you seen Mister Kyle anywhere?” she looked over her shoulder as if she expected him. It was the second time she called him Mister Kyle. I still assumed it was a simple mistake. “Has he said anything to you about me lately?”

“No Ma’am,” I answered her politely.

“Good, get back to playing Barbie fuck doll,” she kissed me on the lips and pranced off happily. It was so not like Miss Claire. She seldom ever hugged me or gave me a kiss before or after my submission began. She realized that I had cum on my face, and she dabbed my face with her finger and sucked it. I was shocked she would be so bold. It happened so fast, and it seemed so normal to me that I didn’t think about it at the time.

“Nice shoes,” she quipped about my sneakers as she skipped back towards her class.

I was able to reach Master Joe’s classroom before the bell rang, but just barely.

“I am sorry for the interruption Mr. Ranga,” I turned to the Indian man who was teaching my son’s History class. “I just need to confer with my son for a moment,” I said.

“Naturally, take all the time you need. I am just on a very tight schedule, and distractions are always productive,” Mr. Ranga said in a deadpan passive-aggressive way. I smiled at him like I didn’t catch that.

I bent my knees deeply as I stood in front of my son and stuck my butt out while he sat at his chair. He handed me a book and a note with a broad smile on his face. He looked at me approvingly. I am sure my hair was a mess, and I was still sticky and dirty. I needed a shower badly, and I probably smelled pretty ripe from all the semen and sweat too.

I dropped the book “Oopsie, I am such a butterfingers,” I said as I touched a finger to my lips like a dumb bimbo. I bent at the waist and exposed my ass to Mr. Ranga. I found that I could jiggle my skirt slightly to hike it up further. I knew my wet cunt and ass cheeks were visible to him.

“This is not anatomy class, Mrs. McGifford!” he chided me.

“Oh I am sorry, I just finished jogging,” I explained as I stood up as if that explained why I wasn’t wearing panties. I sashayed over to him and bent over again so that I could pull his garbage out of the small waste basket in his room. This time I presented my entire ass to the room, and I heard a lot of giggles and guffaws. I waited so they could have time to snap photos if they hurried, and then I stood up.

“I’ll just take this while I am here,” I said as I emptied the trash and exposed myself fully to the class.

I held my breath as I left the classroom. I heard it explode into raucous laughter after I left. “Now, now, that was the distraction for today. Let us not waste the time we have any further,” Mr. Ranga implored his older students to settle down.

I let out a deep breath once I left the classroom. I was pushing the envelope of what could possibly be allowed even if I was fucking the Principal and most of the teachers at school. Mr. Ranga was faithful to his wife and hadn’t visited me – at least not yet. Most of the teachers that visited me were married, so I didn’t see that as a problem since I was married as well.