Chapter 1

She was the kind of girl that could make a grown woman cry and masturbate at the same time.

No matter how many years I've been doing this, there's always one bad apple. One boy or girl who just can't stop from getting under my skin. And it's always the same. Spend a few weeks TRYING to being nice to them hoping they'd improve, then eventually threatening them in one way or another if they don't. Most of the time this works well enough. The brat cools it and I can teach in peace and quiet.

Then there are those special few. Those kids who not even I can deal with on a normal level. That's when they're sent off to the 'EVIL' principle. You'll never see eyes get any wider, and faces any paler than when you threaten a student with a one-on-one meeting with Mrs. Polk.

Usually this simple threat is enough for them. The mere mention of her name sends chills down their spines.

Mrs. Tracy Polk was an intimidating woman. In her 50's, you could tell she had grown up in tough times. Being almost 6 feet tall, she was definitely an imposing presence on anybody, let alone a misbehaving middle schooler. I have actually felt sorry for a few kids I've sent her way, knowing that they were in for tough times.

Then one day that intimidation, that fear, that almighty power of control vanished. POOF!

Her name was Annie.

It's strange to have a name like that. You hardly even hear it anymore, except in old movies. But that was her name, with red hair to boot. I can still remember that innocent, cute face she batted at me that first day of classes.

But sadly it was not meant to be. It's a shame really. She could have gotten a lot of leeway out of me if she had only not been so damn testy, always bitchy, always looking to get onto my bad side.

No matter how hard I tried to keep settled and composed, I'd always end up debating the silliest of things with her.

"No Annie, you may not talk with Katie during a test", "Please Annie, don't just go to the restroom with out asking for permission," "No you cannot do a better job teaching than I!"

Ok, so she never actually said that last one. I would have thrown her cute little ass out of my classroom if she did. But every time I wrote on the board or lectured or anything, there would be that look on her face. A look that clearly spoke: "Miss Anderson, you really don't have any idea what you're talking about do you?"

Bitch!

I should have put a stop to it early. Those first few weeks of looks and disturbances should have been dealt with quickly and harshly. I shouldn't have tried to be so damn patient, so nice. I shouldn't have allowed myself to get so effected by her.

One month, then two months passed before I realized I couldn't allow this girl to continue tormenting me like this. How can you be expected to teach a class when one of your students thinks you are one of the stupidest people in the world? It's just so damn provocative!

Yes I admit it. It was a huge turn on, all of it. From the moment she first questioned my lectures I felt that tingling down between my legs. Bratty girls just do that to their teachers, male or female. Most of the time we are able to hide it; to act professional and stern. But then again we've never seen a girl like Annie.

Exactly two months to the day classes first began I visited Mrs. Polk at her office after school. I knew that if Annie continued her confrontations with me, I would be in BIG trouble. I told Mrs. Polk all about my problems with Annie and asked for her advice. Of course I left out the little part about getting turned on.

Mrs. Polk and I have a long and respected work history together. I joined the school three years after Mrs. Polk became principle and since then we have both gotten along really well. I respect her decisions unequivocally and I'm sure it's vice versa. So the day I came to her with a problem, she knew it was something serious.

She told me that the very next time Annie acted out of place in class I was to send her without another thought to the principal's office. Immediately I knew Mrs. Polk would put the little brat in her place when given the chance. I went home feeling quite assured that day, and NOT horny as hell like in past days. I just didn't need that kind of sexual tension in my life from a hellish teenage girl.

Mrs. Polk didn't have to wait long for her first introduction to Annie. It was two days later while I was giving a lecture about newly found vitamins in fruit that she crossed the line. I won't say what it was that she did, but it was enough for me to stomp my foot on the floor and point at the door. Even Annie knew it was time to visit the school principle.

I almost felt bad for her. I could see the uncertain look in her face as she made her way out of the room. She wouldn't be able to get under Mrs. Polk's skin quite as easily as I.

Most of the day Annie did not return to the classroom. I could just imagine the scorning she must have been getting. But I was much more satisfied at actually being able to teach in peace. No kids taunting me, no one thinking they were better than I.

Yet with an hour left to go in school, Annie came back to class. It was odd the way she looked. On one hand she looked apologetic, yet on the other...

In hindsight I should have been more concerned about that first meeting with Mrs. Polk. What did she do to Annie? How did she try to convince Annie to behave?

Yet what ever Mrs. Polk had done with Annie must have worked. For the rest of that final hour, Annie's behavior was like night and day. No outbursts, no looks, no arguing, no nothing. I know it was only an hour, but I fondly remember going home that evening feeling very satisfied about the whole situation. Thank you Mrs. Polk!

For two weeks this new attitude seemed to remain. I was worried in the beginning that it wouldn't last, but by the end of the second week I was back to my normal self in class.

Then it didn't last. Something must have happened after that second week because Annie was back to her old self. I was quite disappointed by this development. I was hoping her visit to Mrs. Polk would be the end of our problems.

After a few more days of bratty behavior and general disturbance, I was back at Mrs. Polk's office to vent my frustrations. At first Mrs. Polk thought I was there to give her good news, but when she learned of Annie's reversal, she seemed to get very upset. I could tell she was 'personally' offended that a student had not learned her lesson on the first visit. She looked into my eyes and assured me that Annie would behave herself. Again, like the last, I went home feeling assured.

The next morning Annie wasn't in class. I figured Mrs. Polk had called her straight into her office before school could begin and must have been giving the young tart the ear full of a life time.

After two hours, Annie graced the class with her presence. Yet unlike the first time when she returned with an apologetic look on her face, this time it seemed to have been replaced with mild humor. Then again, there was still that something else...

One week, then two weeks came and went just like the last with Annie behaving like a good girl in my classroom. I couldn't have been happier. Mrs. Polk had kept her word and I was teaching an orderly class.

Yet... I should have seen it coming. Looking back I really should have seen how it was all unfolding. The way Annie was playing us like a fiddle and we play the fools. None of us saw it until it was too late. If only I could have figured it out sooner.

Some time during the middle of the third week 'Annie the Good Girl' again became 'Annie the Sexy Brat'. Like the sexual frustrations of previous month, again I was finding myself getting wet every time I turned my back to write on the board, listening to her whispers, her giggles, her very being. After several more days, I was again turning into a complete mess in her presence.

"Annie, please have mercy on me!" I wanted to cry whenever I'd hand her back a paper with a sub-par mark on it. My knees feeling all weak as she looked at me disapprovingly. It took a lot of will to turn my back to her and move on. Why did she have to disrespect me so? Why couldn't she just behave like a normal middle school teen? And why wasn't she behaving like Mrs. Polk had promised to me so sincerely?

After a few more days of this torment I had no choice. After school I reluctantly made my way to the principal's office. Inviting me in, she had me sit across from her desk and gave me that bright hopeful smile. The smile that told me she was just sure I had come to give her good news. Of course I had not. When she heard what I had to say, a look of tremendous hurt and disappointment came across her face.

"But... But she promised!"

I looked at her curiously as Mrs. Polk's voice trailed off, not understanding what she was referring to. But after a moment she managed to recompose herself enough to brush the odd comments off and informed me that she will 'personally' make sure Annie behaves herself from now on. And that this time, things would be different.

The word stuck in my mind the whole way home that Friday. What did that mean 'personally'? Mrs. Polk had never needed to emphasize anything when discussing student's behaviors. On this trip home I no longer felt absurd, only very worried.

But what can I say; Annie had been personally corrected. I don't know what that meant, but for the next month there was not one single thing I had to complain about. Like the breath of fresh air the other two times, this streak of good behavior was a blessing. No weak knees around class, no leaking vagina, no anything humiliating. I was a teacher.

Several times I had gone back to Mrs. Polk to thank her profusely, applauding her tactics and wishing she would tell me what she had done. The first time I had done that, she was actually worried I had come with more bad news. I was almost afraid to give her the good news I had and the relief she showed me upon my words was really unexpected. After all, this was Mrs. Polk. She eats girls like this for breakfast, why shouldn't she expect good behavior when she 'personally' sees to it, what ever that means.

And that's exactly what I tried to find out, but to no success. Every time I would ask her she would wave her hand and tell me it wasn't any of my concern. As long as Annie was behaving, I should be happy. The only thing I did manage to pry out of her was that Mrs. Polk had tried a different tactic than normal, one where she works with the child to better understand her needs.

Good enough for me! Strange, but good enough for me. As Mrs. Polk had said, as long as Annie was being good Annie, I should be happy. I totally respect that woman. Someday I hope to be just like her. A stern, strict, respected middle school principal.

I told you that this latest good behavior lasted for a month. Actually it lasted a little bit longer than that, but it was at the end of that month that I learned just how much of Annie's 'needs' Mrs. Polk sought to understand.

You see every month we have a teachers conference, held in the conference room. Every month Mrs. Polk leads the session about the goings-on of the school whether it be about the need for new supplies or teaching awards, or what ever. Only this time Mrs. Polk wasn't there on time.

Actually she was only about 5 minutes late. Not a biggie, and not something most teachers worried about. Yet, you see being the Principle, she's ALWAYS there at least 15 minutes early to the meeting and being 5 minutes late was, well...

I was not overly concerned as I made my way to her office to see what was keeping her. Surely she had good reason.

Upon arriving to her room I found the doorknob locked, yet the door had not been completely closed properly. As I slowly pushed it open, the scene I saw through its cracks had my breath slow to a silence.

"Let's go Mrs. Polky, I'm waiting!"

I stood there at the door peering into the room as Annie defiantly stood before Mrs. Polk's desk, her hands at her little hips, her words still echoing off the book covered walls. Sitting at her desk, looking quite worried was her middle school principle. Did Annie just call her 'Mrs. Polky'?

"Miss Green please, I have a teacher's meeting in a minute, do we really have to..."

"I really don't want to repeat myself. Or do you want me to start behaving badly in class again."

I could instantly sense Mrs. Polk's worried face turning to slight panic. "But Annie, I've done everything you've asked, there's no need to..."

<SLAP>

I gasp and throw both my hands to my mouth in unbelievable shock. In a flash Annie had stormed over to Mrs. Polk and SLAPPED her clear across the face. How dare she! Surely Mrs. Polk won't stand for...

"Owww... I mean Miss Green. I'm so sorry..." I couldn't believe the sight I saw from my stern boss. She was almost cowering in her seat, staring up in fear of this... this... child, tears swelling in her eyes.

"Stop crying you old bitch. I don't care about your stupid little teacher's meeting. Up in front and on your knees, NOW!"

If I could put another hand to my mouth I would have. Mrs. Polk almost tripped over herself scurrying to the front of her desk, beside the teen half her size. In another second she was kneeling in her brown power suit, onto her knees, looking up at Annie and waiting.

"Get to your hands."

Mrs. Polk quickly lowered her upper body to the ground as well, so that she's now resting ridiculously on her hands and knees. Then, as if nothing were odd about it, Annie straddles her principal's back. Taking a moment to get comfortable by wiggling her butt, Mrs. Polk grunts with discomfort at having the teen on her back.

With her butt comfortably atop her principal's back, Annie gathers Mrs. Polk's hair into her hand as a harness and kicks the adult's thighs with her sneakers.

Like a dream I watch the normally intimidating middle school principal instantly spring her legs into action, crawling around her office like some stupid pony for the bratty bitch. Her head held back by the pull on her hair, Annie was giggling the whole time, kicking her sneakers painfully against Polk's thighs. All this in her suit no less.

"Your getting pretty good at this Tracy. Pretty soon you'll be able to crawl right out of this office and right down the halls. Wouldn't that be so much fun?"

I could see Mrs. Polk's face turning red with embarrassment as she continued to crawl around her office floor. Not even I dared to call my boss by her first name, yet here Annie was saying just that!

"I have a good idea! Why don't we just crawl right out of this office right now? Since you soooo much want to go to that stupid teachers meeting!"

Mrs. Polk stopped crawling and began to frantically shake her head.

"Nooo, we mustn't. Please Miss Green, this is just to remain between us. I would lose my job if people discover what we do." There was now a look of true panic on Polk's face.

"But there's nothing wrong with what we do. You're simply helping to assure that I remain the best little girl I can be. So what if your so desperate to keep me behaving that you'll be my little pony bitch."

"Miss Green, please don't call me that. Its not appropriate..."

Annie gave a quick kick to her principal's thighs and good tug of her hair.

"I didn't tell you to stop Polky, keep moving! And I'll call you what ever the hell I want. Besides, you like it when I call you my bitch, don't you Tracy?"

Mrs. Polk didn't answer, only continuing her ridiculous crawling around the office. Her knees must have been awfully soar from rubbing against the thick office carpet.

"I asked you a question pony, do you like it when I call you my bitch?"

I quickly shut the door before I can hear Mrs. Polk's answer, allowing it to lock as intended. I had heard enough! I simply didn't want to see any more. I couldn't bear to watch my boss and mentor surrender her dignity like that to a child any longer. This was all too much. How could it have happened? Why couldn't she have demonstrated her superiority over this little girl? I must be dreaming!

In a daze of confusion and heartbreak I turned around and swiftly walked back to the meeting room, where all the teachers were waiting and looking at their watches. A few of them had seen me and notice the disturbed look on my face. I didn't even realize I was on the verge of tears.

Yet not knowing what else to do, I assured them all was alright, and just that... well... Mrs. Polk would be a little late.

Sure enough, ten minutes later Mrs. Polk came into the room. Despite looking a little disheveled, you wouldn't have known she had just spent the last 20 some odd minutes being a pony to a student. Who knows what else they did after I left.

Even her reddened knees could not be seen under the conservative long skirt that was a staple of the older woman's suit.

The next day in class I watched Annie in a different light. She was no longer a simple little brat whose girlish ways made my tempers flare and cunt wet. Now she was a simple little brat who rode my boss around like a pony to 'keep' my cunt from getting wet!

Of course today she was acting the perfect angle. I hardly had any problems with her. Even when she noticed me looking her way more often than usual, she paid me no mind. She seemed quite content with leaving me alone. And why shouldn't she? As long as Mrs. Polk served Annie's perversions, she was going to behave herself.

It was all just sick. How could Mrs. Polk have agreed to such a thing? What ever happened to that tough woman who sent meaner and bigger girls and boys screaming home to mommy? Was this the only way she could make the brat behave?

Resting on the wall in her office is a paddle. A thick mean looking thing that reminded me of times when they were used without reservation. Back then, if a child stepped out of line they'd get a wallop of a life time. But today if you so much touch a kid the wrong way your fired. But Mrs. Polk always told me she's just inching to try it out again on some brat who thinks she's too good for herself. Wasn't Annie such a brat?

And what was all that about Mrs. Polk enjoying being Annie's 'bitch'. Was she making that up? Or did Mrs. Polk really enjoy being in such a humiliating position?

All these questions swirled through my head as the days continued. Despite her good behavior I would struggle through each class, finding myself stupidly fumbling through my lectures every time my mind drifted back to yesterday afternoon and what it really took to keep Annie sitting there with her mouth closed.

Sometimes I wanted to confront Mrs. Polk, to ask her what she was thinking. To be so weak to a girl almost 4 times younger than she was. To explain how this is not the way to instill discipline in a child. What better way to disrespect authority than to turn the school's principal into a pony, and that's exactly what Mrs. Polk had allowed to happen.

But how could I confront her? I felt more embarrassed about revealing my discovery that she would for actually being caught. And then there was Annie. Should I confront her? Could I demand she stop her aggression towards Mrs. Polk? Did I have the guts?

Yet then she might start miss behaving all over again. And then what? What would I do? How would I make her behave? Would she also try to turn me into her bitch? Would she want to ride me like a pony as well?

I squeezed my thighs together imagining myself crawling around in my own classroom, Annie sitting up high on my aching back, kicking my thighs as I hurriedly scampered around the room on all fours like a fool. "Yes Miss Green, I'm your Bitch!"

I moaned at the thought and felt my pussy spasm. It was at that moment I realized why Mrs. Polk was on her knees that day. Because she indeed wanted to be little Annie's Bitch. To surrender control and authority over to a little bratty girl who thought she was better than you in every way. To push away all that you've worked for to become her pet pony.

I wanted to be her pet pony. I wanted her to look at me, command me sternly to my knees, to climb over my spine, kick her dirty girly sneakers into my thighs and send me off crawling around in my own classroom, telling me just what she thinks about me and my stupid lessons.

"Mind if I sit here Karen?"

I snapped out of my daze, looking to my side at the woman standing next to me. It was Janice, Miss Graff as I called her. Sue me for still following the old code of respect in a name.