Chapter 8: Friday morning

Leslie was excited when she drove into the school parking lot. Miss Wolfe had told her yesterday she was to report to Mrs. Wright and maybe something good would come from the class. The special class was over and for that she was secretly disappointed. She was careful not to walk too fast down the sidewalk, she concentrated on stopping her mini skirt from flapping up and down like yesterday, but that didn’t stop the kids from staring and whistling at her. Several female teachers gave her disappointed looks and for the first time Leslie resolved to stare them down each time they looked at her.

She made her way to the office, which was crowded with students and Mrs. Danvers called her over. “Are you here to see Mrs. Wright?”

“Yes,” Leslie said brightly.

“It will be a couple of minutes. Go stand over there by the wall, out of the way of the students.” Mrs. Danvers commanding tone and the dismissive way she waved her hand angered Leslie and she blushed, but despite her anger, she obeyed. She felt self-conscious standing by the wall: the kids walking by looked her up and down and she heard whispers, but there was nothing she could do about it except wait.

After ten minutes, Mrs. Danvers told Leslie she could go in and as she entered Mrs. Wright said, “Close the door and stand in front of my desk.”

The principal looked her up and down and smiled. Leslie was wearing the outfit that Miss Wolfe had given at the end of the session yesterday: her five inch stilettos, white thigh stockings with garter straps and clips showing, a mini-skirt and a white blouse with no bra. It was a far cry from her white button-up blouse, earth-tone knee length skirt and black pumps that she had started with on Monday morning.

“Your conduct has been exemplary during the special class, Mrs. Gaye,” Mrs. Wright smiled broadly as she sat down at her desk. “I have seen all the film and I must say that I am impressed and I know the school board will be too.”

Leslie stood with her hands clasped in front of her looking uncomfortable, and she smiled weakly. “Thank you Mrs. Wright, I tried to do my best,” she replied shyly.

Mrs. Wright continued, “We have plans to use the film in other, ah, educational situations. In fact, based on Miss Wolfe’s glowing review, and your part in the films, I am removing you as a teacher and making you the faculty adviser ... for this high school.

Leslie looked in astonishment at the principal. “Faculty adviser? Who will teach my classes?”

“Miss Johnson,” Mrs. Wright said waving her hand at the teacher sitting across the room. Leslie gasped: she had been so focused on what the principal had to say, that she didn’t noticed the young woman sitting comfortably in a recliner holding a cup of coffee from one of the popular coffee chains.

Leslie looked at Miss Johnson: the woman looked to be just out of college and Leslie suddenly wondered why they had chosen such a young teacher and why she was in the meeting with her.

“You are to help her with the lesson plans and assist her in the classroom. She will be your supervisor and such she will have total say over your school hours and activities. I also have agreed to let her have free reign in the class to explore other sex education interests and areas.”

Leslie looked at Miss Johnson. She felt confused: if she was now “Faculty Adviser”, why would Miss Johnson supervise her; and hadn’t they already finished sex education in the special class? She cleared her throat nervously and asked, “What other interests and areas are we talking about?”

“It’s what I decide it is,” replied Miss Johnson, her voice firm and commanding. She gave Leslie a look that made it clear that she was in control. Leslie blushed and averted her eyes.

Mrs. Wright continued, “When you are not working for Miss Johnson you will be assisting with faculty advising for other classes.” Leslie gave her a questioning look but remained meekly silent. “The other teachers will coordinate with Miss Johnson for dates and times you are to work for them.” She stopped and stared at Leslie for a moment. “Any questions?”

Leslie didn’t know if she should be happy or mad that Miss Johnson would have total say over her school working hours.

“So, I work for Miss Johnson then?” she asked.

“Yes, she will be your superior. You will work directly for her and nobody else. What she says goes and carries my authority,” Mrs. Wright replied. “I don’t want to hear from Miss Johnson that you are being an uncooperative subordinate. You have done so much good this past week and it would be very bad for you if I had to get involved in any disciplinary or corrective action.”

Leslie swallowed and nodded her head. She really wanted to ask Mrs. Wright what she meant by ‘disciplinary or corrective action’ but held her tongue. She turned her head and smiled weakly at Miss Johnson. She didn’t know the new teacher but had seen her around the past several weeks. “I will try to do my best then,” she said, turning back to Mrs. Wright.

“Don’t tell me, tell her.”

“I will try and do my best, Miss Johnson,” Leslie said, blushing under the young woman’s stare.

“Next,” continued Mrs. Wright, “I agreed to the request from the art teacher and gym teacher to have you assist in their classes next week. Miss Johnson will work out the details with them on your behalf. Going forward, when you receive a direct request from one of the teachers you are to refer them to Miss Johnson. You are not to indicate yes or no to their requests as you are to let Miss Johnson make those decisions for you, understood?”

“Yes, understood,” Leslie said, nodding. ‘Make decisions for me?’ she thought.

“Miss Johnson is accountable for your time during school hours. She will write your evaluations and counsel you should you need it. Her supervisory authority is absolute over you. Again, I don’t want to hear of any problems between you two. Is that clear?”

Leslie nodded again.

“Any questions?”

“Um, well yes,” Leslie stammered.

Mrs. Wright raised her eye brows, waiting for Leslie to speak.

“Um, well, Miss Wolfe said that I will be getting a clothing allowance to purchase, um, these clothes I am wearing.”

“Miss Johnson?” Mrs. Wright said.

Miss Johnson sat up straight in the recliner. “Because your school-provided clothes kept getting ripped and torn during the special classes, we have decided that you will purchase the same type of clothes yourself, but will get reimbursed from petty cash. The FPTA will be taking steps to change the faculty adviser dress code at the next meeting of the school board which is this evening.”

Leslie nodded her head as her heart sank again. She had to go into a store and buy slutty clothes, like these. She sighed: at least I’ll get reimbursed.

Mrs. Wright continued. “Very good, before the next class hour I want you and Miss Johnson to get acquainted, then you have two home rooms before lunch and two home rooms after lunch with the last hour in the office doing escort duties.” She paused and looked at them both intently. “This new sex education class is very important to the school board and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between you two. Miss Wolfe tells me that you take direction very well, Mrs. Gaye, and I want you to show the same dedication to Miss Johnson.” Leslie felt as if the woman’s eyes were boring into her and she nodded obediently. “Dismissed.”

Leslie and Miss Johnson walked out of Mrs. Wright’s office. Miss Johnson suddenly stopped in the middle of the outer office.

“I want you to walk two steps behind me every time we go somewhere, whether that is walking down the hallway or outside the school, understood?”

Leslie couldn’t imagine why Miss Johnson wanted that but she nodded her head.

Miss Johnson looked at Leslie again and raised her voice a little. “When I ask if you understand that means that you are required to say something in return, Mrs. Gaye.”

The office went quiet as kids, teachers and office staff watched the exchange.

“Yes, I understand,” Leslie almost mumbled as she turned several shades of red.

“Louder.”

“Yes I understand, Miss Johnson!”

“Let’s go to my new classroom, shall we?”

Leslie stayed two steps behind Miss Johnson as they walked down the hallway. It was the first time she had actually had a chance to look at the young woman properly. She was wearing a one piece black PVC dress with thin straps over the shoulder. The dress came to mid-thigh on the young teacher and she wore black knee high boots with thin five inch heels. It looked like she could easily fit in at a night club. With Leslie in her skimpy outfit and Miss Johnson in her black outfit, nobody could miss the contrast between the two and what it meant.

But Leslie did.

They entered what was now Miss Johnson’s classroom. Somebody had written “Whore” on the board again and she erased it while Leslie stood meekly behind her, blushing.

“Do you know what a whore is, Mrs. Gaye?”

“Yes, Miss Johnson,” an embarrassed Leslie replied.

“What is it?”

Leslie suddenly felt like a little school girl. “A whore is a prostitute who is paid to have sex.”

“Are you a whore?” Miss Johnson asked, looking directly at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I ask the questions Mrs. Gaye. Are you a whore?”

“No Miss Johnson, certainly not,” Leslie gasped.

“That’s not what Miss Wolfe told me,” Miss Johnson said, walking around Leslie. “She said that you proclaimed it out loud, that you said you were the ‘school’s whore’ I think is how she put it.”

Leslie turned beat red, her shoulders drooped and her head dropped. She was beaten and she knew it.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes Miss Johnson, I am a whore.”

“Stand up straight and look straight ahead at attention, Mrs. Gaye,” ordered the young teacher, and Leslie obeyed, standing as straight as she could, tears staring in her eyes. Her world seemed to be coming apart.

“Who’s whore are you?”

“The school’s whore, Miss Johnson.” Leslie shrugged.

“Don’t shrug!” Miss Johnson ordered as she stood behind Leslie. “Say it with pride, Mrs. Gaye.”

“I am the school’s whore, Miss Johnson,” Leslie replied with a little step in her voice.

“So you lied to me?”

Leslie looked round at the young teacher with tears in her eyes.

“First you said that you weren’t a whore, now you say you are. You were caught in lie weren’t you, Mrs. Gaye?”

“Yes, Miss Johnson,” Leslie barely breathed. She felt like a child being scolded by the parent and she fought the urge to cry. Why did she just get the butterflies?

“And since you lied to me, do you think that there should be punishment involved?”

Leslie wanted to scream out loud, “NO!” but instead just nodded her head.

“Say it Mrs. Gaye.”

“Yes Miss Johnson, there should be punishment involved.”

Miss Johnson walked to the back of the classroom and picked up the pink foam rubber cone hat with the words “DUNCE CAP” written around the bottom edge, the hat that Miss Wolfe had made her wear yesterday. She handed the hat to Leslie.

Leslie looked at the cone hat then Miss Johnson.

“Stand in the corner there with facing the wall with the cap on your head.” Miss Johnson ran the back of her hand down Leslie’s left cheek. “I want your nose touching the wall.” Leslie blushed and tried to look away. “You’ll stay there until classes end, which is in,” Miss Johnson looked at her smart phone, “ten minutes.”

Then she stared into Leslie’s eyes. “After the first bell rings you are to write on the board, “Mrs. Gaye is a whore,” fifty times, in neat penmanship, while still wearing the hat. You have until the second bell to finish that.” She stepped a little closer to Leslie. “After you finish writing on the board you are take the hat off and place it on the chair by the door and then get under the desk and await my return. Is all this understood?”

“Yes, Miss Johnson” Leslie replied in a defeated voices d then added quickly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Um, how long will you be gone?”

Miss Johnson smiled. “Why? Miss me already?”

Leslie blushed and looked at the floor. “Um, well, as the kids come in for home room, they will see my ankles and feet sticking out from under the desk, plus they’ll see what I wrote on the board.”

“And that is a problem how?”

Leslie’s shoulders dropped. “It’s not a problem.”

“I thought so,” Miss Johnson replied. “Whose fault is this again?”

“My fault Miss Johnson.”

“Yes it is. You lied to me and I don’t like it when my subs lie to me, understand?”

“Yes Miss Johnson.” Sub? What was that, Leslie thought.

“Now to the corner with you.”

Leslie stood in the corner of the room in full view of the door, her nose touching the wall, the pink cone shaped hat on her head. She heard giggles, laughter and whispering from the door which embarrassed and humiliated her, but she reasoned she deserved this as she did lie to Miss Johnson. She only lied because of her own embarrassment and that was wrong. God certainly didn’t like it when people lied, it said so in the Bible and in her Sunday school class Leslie taught that it was a major sin to tell lies.

When the first bell rang to let classes out, Leslie quickly went to the board, wrote out “Mrs. Gaye is a whore” fifty times then carefully placed her hat on the chair. She took a deep breath as she knelt down and scooted under her desk ... well not that it was her desk anymore. No matter how she tried to position herself, her feet ended up sticking out the front. She wondered if she would have to do that nasty thing between Miss Johnson’s legs, like she had with Miss Wolfe.

The second bell rang and this time kids walked into the room. Leslie could hear whispers and giggles and realized they were looking at what she had written on the board. “Fuck!” she said to herself and immediately felt shocked at her automatic use of the word.

A student almost tripped over her feet. “Fuck, stupid teacher,” the girl hissed as she kicked out at them. Leslie was about to say something but decided to keep quiet: maybe they didn’t know who was under the desk, or no one else would notice. But then other kids walked by, kicking her feet and ankles and giggling each time. Leslie couldn’t do anything about it until at last Miss Johnson came into the classroom.

“Quiet down kids, get out any homework you might have and start on it.”

‘Thank God Miss Johnson is here,’ thought Leslie, ‘now I can come out from under the desk.’

“Yes?” Miss Johnson said in response to a girl with her hand up.

“Where is Mrs. Gaye?” the girl asked and all the kids laughed.

“Mrs. Gaye is not available right now. I’m Miss Johnson and I’ll be your new teacher from now on. Now start your homework.”

The kids quieted down and Leslie could hear the class getting their books out, but to her alarm, she heard Miss Johnson walk out the door. She heard whispers and giggles as the kids did their class work but little more, and the hour dragged on: her knees hurt and her back ached from being bent over under the desk.

Eventually, the bell rang letting the class out and as the students left the room they all seemed to come by and kick her feet and ankles as they left. Remembering what Miss Johnson had said, Leslie obediently stayed under the desk, even when the second bell rang for the start of the next homeroom. Just as before, the kids came in, more snickers and giggles, and then some of them kicked her ankles as they walked by, there was nothing she could do about it.

Miss Johnson returned to the classroom and told the class the same thing as the previous class and then left the room, leaving Leslie upset and frustrated at her predicament. She determined to talk to Miss Johnson, telling her it wasn’t very professional of her to make her stay under the desk.

The class hour went by slowly with the kids doing their classwork as Leslie’s knees and back were hurting now. Oh, how she wanted to crawl out from under the desk, but the fear of future punishment stopped her. At length the first bell rang for the end of the class and again the kids walked by kicking her ankles and feet.

She heard footsteps and Miss Johnson walked back into the classroom. “Come out from under the desk, Mrs. Gaye,” she ordered.

“Finally!” Leslie said as she pushed the chair out of the way and stood up. “I really don’t think...”

Miss Johnson interrupted her. “I really don’t care what you think, Mrs. Gaye,” she replied and stared at Leslie challengingly. Leslie blushed and lowered her eyes. “You will eat your lunch in here and when the first bell rings you are to get under the desk again.”

Tears formed in Leslie’s eyes. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I don’t think you have learned your lesson yet. Strict obedience is what I require Mrs. Gaye, it is what this school will demand of you.” Leslie was about to say something about being obedient but Miss Johnson continued, “Are you not obedient to your God?”

“What?” Leslie gasped, taken aback by the question. “Of course!”

“Then I demand the same type of obedience from you. If you can give it to your God, then you can give it to me.”

Leslie’s shoulders drooped. “Yes Miss Johnson.”

“Eat your lunch here and crawl under the desk at the first bell.” Miss Johnson ordered as she turned and walked out of the classroom.

Leslie sat down at the PC in the back of the room and pulled out her food. She ate slowly and massaged her aching muscles for an hour, trying to relax until the first bell rang. As soon as it did, she put her lunch bag in her large purse and crawled obediently under the desk again. The second bell rang and the kids filed in, some walking by and kicking Leslie like the other pupils had done.

“Quiet, kids,” Miss Johnson ordered as she walked into the classroom. “Get out any homework you may have and start on it.” There was a pause and she pointed at a girl who had raised her hand. “Yes?” she asked.

“Is that a joke or did Mrs. Gaye write that on the board?” the girl asked.

“No that is not a joke and yes Mrs. Gaye did write that.” Miss Johnson sat down on the desk chair. She looked down at Leslie and Leslie looked up at her. “Now start on your homework.”

Miss Johnson raised herself up slightly, hooked her fingers under her panties and silently pulled them down to her knees. Sitting down again, she scooted to the edge of the chair. She pushed her panties to her ankles and opened her legs. In the small space under the desk, the fragrance of aroused cunt was inescapable and Leslie looked down, aghast: in the semi darkness, she could see nothing but shadow between the young teacher’s thighs but the crotch of her panties, pooled around her ankles, glistened with wetness. A mix of fear and excitement filled Leslie’s eyes when she realized what she was expected to do.

Miss Johnson looked down at Leslie again and smiled but Leslie looked away. How could this be happening with a class full of children, young, innocent teens who might be corrupted. Leslie a familiar tingle deep within her own loins.

Above her, she could hear writing on the desk and then saw a piece of paper being lowered towards her. It read: “I like it slow”. Then a hand reached under the desk and behind her head and pulled her forward, into the shadow.

Leslie took a deep breath of Miss Johnson’s cunt and it smelled sweet somehow, not pungent. Gently she kissed and nibbled at the swollen slit as the young woman squirmed in the chair. Suddenly, a girl’s voice made both the women jump and Miss Johnson put both hands on the desk.

“Miss Johnson,” a girl asked, her hand raised. “Can I come up and show you the problem I am having?”

“Yes,” the young woman replied huskily, making no effort to push Leslie’s head away. Leslie was surprised and wondered if she should pull back, but then remembered what Miss Johnson told her about obedience and continued to kiss and lick. Above her head, she heard mumbled conversation and she knew that the girl must be able see her head moving between her teacher’s thighs, but whereas it once would have outraged her, now it aroused her. All she wanted to do was to submit to Miss Johnson’s will and bathe in the young woman’s wet cunt, and the fact that there was a student watching her made it all the more exciting. She felt a desperate urge to touch herself but felt somehow that would get her into trouble.