Chapter 2

The drive home was pure torture. My cunt wouldn't stop itching. It was all I could do to stop from reaching down in the middle of traffic to relieve myself. I couldn't help it. What Mrs. Polk had described had totally turned me on. I knew very well it wasn't all her fault for what she had allowed Annie to do to her. I knew I would have probably done the same. I wish I had done the same.

I so wish it could have been me. If I had only been confident enough to take Annie on myself in the beginning, I would be Annie's little pet pony teacher! Even so, I still gave Annie a window today, a chance to confront me in class and turn me into her humiliated pig. But she didn't take it did she? No I guess she already has Mrs. Polk under her thumb and there's no need for a simple teacher like me to waste her time with. No need to ride me around the classroom like a pony when she's got the leader of the school. Gosh, are my thighs getting sticky.

Of course when I did finally get home, I gave in to all the degrading imagery Mrs. Polk had spoon fed to me. I had barely closed my apartment door before falling to my knees, hiking up my dress and stuffing my fingers into the tops of my panties. Mmmmm Annie!

At the next teacher's meeting, Mrs. Polk was again late. No doubt she was finishing up one of her sessions playing horsy with Annie. Seeing her come in the conference room this time was the hardest thing to do. It was the first time she knew I was aware of what had been going on. For the days after her sniveling confession in the office, I had purposefully avoided her, not knowing what to say.

I figured she must not have told Annie about our unscheduled meeting, since the little brat showed no indication that she knew of it. I was both disappointed, and relieved that she had backed up her promise to behave. Since my halfhearted plea, she was actually doing just that, behaving in class.

Never before in my life would I ever have thought I would be disappointed to have a student actually listen to me. Every day I would lecture in class, frustrated that I couldn't become what Mrs. Polk had become.

I was no longer afraid of looking at Annie any more. Instead I would constantly peek over in her direction, occasionally catching her eye. Every time I would give her the same look. A longing, almost begging look. I didn't even know why I was still trying. Not only was it wrong, but it was obvious she didn't even want me. Yet every time I did catch her eye, my heart leapt. Maybe this time she'd get the hint. Maybe this time she'll realize I can be a Mrs. Polk to.

But every time the expressionless look on her face never change. Just indifference. Indifference to me, indifference to my teachings, indifference to my... desires.

So as Mrs. Polk entered the room, hair slightly ruffled and face slightly blushed, the first person she noticed was me. We both exchange unsettling looks. I could tell she was worried. Not just what Annie was doing to her, but that I would tell someone. I knew I never would. As unmoral and humiliating as it was, I couldn't turn her in. Not after I had been responsible for sending the bitch to her in the first place.

So when I gave her a warm smile, she seemed to relax a bit before beginning the meeting.

That's pretty much how the next couple of weeks went. Every day Annie was behaving in class, I knew she was still paying visits to the principles office.

Mrs. Polk for her part tried her best to act as if everything was normal, but her antics with Annie were having a toll. It was becoming obvious to some of the other school faculty members that something wasn't right with the principal. Mrs. Polk simply wasn't doing her job as effectively as before, especially in the area of... <AHEM>... student behavior reform.

That's when things began to get complicated.

One day as classes were ending, a hall messenger came into the room to deliver a note from Mrs. Polk. It was short and simply, but it worried me: 'We need to talk. Meet me at my office in twenty minutes.'

I didn't know what she specifically wanted to talk about, but it was obviously about Annie. Was she finally having enough of the bratty teen?

As the students filed out of my final class of the day, I began gathering my stuff and after twenty some odd minutes made my way to her office. Of course all the faculty had left by now, and the only noises audible were coming from Mrs. Polk's office.

However, when I reached for the doorknob, I found it locked. It was at that moment I heard the tall tale sounds of adolescent giggling. This in by itself wasn't what I found shocking. I knew full well that Annie paid Mrs. Polk after school visits at least once a week. The difference this time was that I heard more than one.

Holding my breath, I moved my head closer to the door to confirm my suspicions. Unbelievably, I couldn't distinctively hear two girls... no no... my gosh... three girls giggling away in there. Instinctively I placed my hand to my face at the shock, knowing full well what the implications of this meant. Annie must be introducing new students to this sick, twisted perversion.

I listened closely and could faintly hear the soft sobs of Mrs. Polk. As some of the giggling turned into unrecognizable chatter, it only made the sobs louder. The poor thing, they must have been insulting her.

Then there was an odd pause in the activities, and it sounded as if things were being re-arranged. After two minutes of agonizing silence the giggle erupted into a roar of ridiculing laughter as an audible thumping sound shook the floor. My mind was black with what it could be. I knew it couldn't have been the sound of Mrs. Polk's knees crawling across the ground because it sounded too heavy. Yet the incessant laughing and teasing must have meant it involved the humiliated older woman.

With the door locked, and my curious mind dying to find out what was going on, I backed into the hallway and practically ran my way to the exit. I knew Mrs. Polk's office had a window. It wasn't the easiest thing to get to since it was partially blocked by bushes, but I was desperate to know what kind of a mess tough old Mrs. Polk had gotten herself into this time.

It took me three minutes to briskly walk around the outside of the school before I was crouching below the middle school principals window. Even before I peeked inside, I could still hear the giggling and feel the odd thumping sound.

Taking a gulp of air, I slowly rose up until my eyes just peeked over the window pain. What I saw drained the blood from my face from the sheer humiliation of it. Sitting on the floor in a quasi circle where the three girls. Instantly I recognized Annie as one of them and the other two I had seen around the school. But the main focus of my eyes, was what was standing... or should I say jumping in the middle.

Like the absolute joke of a middle school Principal she was turning out to be, Mrs. Polk was in nothing more than her bra and panties as she clumsily did jumping jacks for the teen girls. With one breast hanging out of her bra, flopping around like mad, she looked absolutely and utterly ridiculous as her body continually shook and jiggled every time she kicked her arms and legs out.

A look of complete teary-eyed humiliation lay on the adults face as her students pointed and commented on the spectacle she was. It really was hard at that point to feel sorry for her. A person doesn't get to become school principal without having some sort of a back bone, some sort of ability to deal with kids. Mrs. Polk obviously had that. I had seen her in action so many times in the past. Yet that seemed so long ago as I watched her jump up and down in her undees. She didn't even bother to put her dangling tit back in her bra.

After a few more minutes of jumping jacks, the teens tired and it wasn't long before Mrs. Polk was on her hands and knees giving 'rides' around the room. It was all so civilized the way each girl would patiently wait her turn before straddling the sniveling woman, grasping her bra strap as a reign and kicking their sneakers against her thighs. Off they would go around the room.

The sight was no longer erotic to me like it once was before. As I watched, I was no longer imagining myself in Mrs. Polk's place. The events I was now watching were just plan sad. Sad because it wasn't just Annie that this was about anymore. Back then it was all about a young bratty vixen. A pretty girl who commanded obedience and got it from the highest authority.

But now there were more kids involved. More kids who would watch her humiliate herself. More kids that would soon go to their friends and tell how they 'Rode' the principal around. More kids that would say they saw the principal doing jumping jacks in her underwear. More kids that would come to see it for themselves. More kids that would laugh and point when they did. More kids that would no longer respect Mrs. Polk. So on and so on.

This must have been what Mrs. Polk had wanted to see her about. The whole thing was starting to get out of control.

For another fifteen minutes the girls teased and tormented her. After the pony rides, they moved her over to the desk and bent her over it. Her large ass vulnerably pointed back at them. As Annie picked up the large paddle hanging on the wall, the other two girls lowered their principal's panties to her knees.

I had seen the paddle before. Mrs. Polk always spoke of it fondly from her earlier days when teachers were allowed to spank their students. She told me many a bad student had once tasted its wrath.

Mrs. Polk began to struggle slightly as she noticed Annie walking behind her. She knew full well who the paddles last victim was going to be. I could see her shaking her head, pleading with the teen to have mercy.

Her struggles and even her pleas were obviously half hearted. Being almost six feet tall, Mrs. Polk could easily have over powered the two fourteen year old girls keeping her chest pressed against the cold oak table.

When Annie's caressing hand resting on the right ass cheek of her pet, all resistance was gone. For a minute Annie wickedly stroked her principal's ass, soothing and calming the older woman until she was wiggling her hips back, enjoying the attention.

<WHACK>

Mrs. Polk's body shot forward onto the desk as her ass rippled and shook. The poor woman screamed out in shock and pain. Annie paused as all the girls watched the angry red paddle welt appear on the otherwise white ass.

<WHACK><WHACK><WHACK>

Mrs. Polk desperately held on to the edge of her table, doing everything she could to cope with the relentless painful swatting of her ass. She moaned and moaned into the oak table after every hit, tears freely flowing down her once respected face. A sad sight indeed.

After ten some odd swats by Annie, she moved aside to let one of the other girls have her shot. I'm just sure the paddling felt that much worse from all the incessant giggling and insulting the girls poured over her.

I had lost complete track of time when the last swat had been delivered by the third giggling teen. Mrs. Polk's once white ass and upper thighs were now one solid mass of red. She was uncontrollably sobbing on her office desk as the girls readied themselves to leave.

Placing the paddle on the table, next to her victim, Annie then leaned close into Mrs. Polk's ear and whispered something. I couldn't tell what she said, but oddly got an obedient nod from the still crying older woman. Then they were gone. I couldn't believe they didn't even have the decency to help clean the pathetic older woman up. Mrs. Polk was just left there, leaning over the table, her ass redder than blood, exposed for all to see.

I knew I couldn't just leave her like that. Some one could easily just walk right in. What would the janitor think if stumbled in doing his after school rounds?

Raising from my crouching, hidden position outside the window, I hurriedly made my way back into the school. Thankfully the doors had not yet been locked. Another minute and I was back at the door I had been at less than an hour ago. Now I was prepared for what lay inside.

The knob was obviously unlocked this time as the door opened. My heart dropped as I saw my boss still draped over her desk. For the first time I could see her students wrath up close. It looked even worse than from outside.

As I entered the room, she turned her head around to look at me. Her face flushed and wet from tears and sweat. Yet as she rested her head against the table, looking at me, she made no effort to compose herself, to stand up and show dignity. She simply remained in her position, ass staring right back at me.

I couldn't stop looking at it as I approached, all red and bruised. This could have been me. I could be the one with my naked ass bent over a desk, with students taking turns abusing it. I could be the one the girls were telling their friends about.

Nurturingly I brought my hand up to her behind. Even before I touched it, the heat resonating from it was unbelievable. You could have warmed a cold room with it. I wasn't even thinking when I finally did place my hand on the tender cheeks. All I knew was how much pain she was in. Her crying by now had simmered to a constant sniveling, yet the look of grimace on her face when my hand made contact with the raw flesh told me all I needed to know.

Soothingly I began caressing her buttocks, trying my best to give her some sort of comfort. Several times I had to move my hand away from, the heat too much for my hand to stand.

The whole time Mrs. Polk never moved a muscled, fully welcoming my pity upon her. I was the only adult that knew of her predicament, and I felt that strangely brought us closer.

From cheek to cheek I rubbed my hand, ever moment easing her back to normalcy. It must have been when her sniveling reduced to an irregular whining when I noticed the paddle still resting on the table. Mrs. Polk's head had been facing it the whole time.

In some sort of fascination I reached with my other hand and picked it up to examine it. The heavy wood felt awfully powerful in my hand. I looked down to again see the damage it had caused. The still pinkish-red womanly skin quivered beneath it.

That's when I saw the slick, shinny liquid between my boss's thighs. I took a step back to get a better look. Sure enough her entire inner thighs were covered in her juices, some of it completely running down her legs. I just couldn't believe it. All this mental and physical abuse and she was wetter than a swimmer. How the hell was this possible?

Actually I really didn't want to know. I knew it would do nothing but make me more disgusted with her if I thought about it any further.

Putting the paddle back in it place on the wall, I began helping Mrs. Polk get dressed. Taking some tissues, I carefully dried up her legs before pulling her panties back up around her waist. Yet it became ever so frustrating when I ended up doing all the work. Mrs. Polk simply stood there like a child, letting me plop her breasts back into her bra while sliding the rest of her cloths back onto her body. She was just completely lost in a submissive daze. It was pathetic yet I couldn't blame her. She had been in a traumatic experience.

"I'm finished!"

I looked up at her in surprise as I helped her slip into the other heel, totally expecting her to remain silent and sniveling. It took me a second to realize she was actually talking to me.

"I'm finished Karen. My job, my career, DONE! Its over!"

I saw a renewed wave of tears emerge from her eyes as Mrs. Polk collapsed to her knees in pure despair. Lowering slowly to my knees as well, I wrapped my arms around her holding her head, hushing and consoling.

"What do you mean? How is it all over?"

Through wet eyes and matted hair she looked at me.

"This is not the first times she's done this. Those other two girls are the sixth and seventh she's brought in to... to... humiliate me." More tears.

So it was true what I had suspected, this was the reason why I was sent that note. It certainly IS getting out of hand.

"I begged and begged for her not to involve other students. I promised her I'd do anything if she only kept it between the two of us."

"AND?" I asked.

"She told me she already had me doing anything she wanted. That it was hopeless for me to refuse her. Then she told me that since I had a fellow teacher who already knew about us, that she should get to invite her friends as well."

"WHAT?" I said in complete shock. "What fellow teacher knows about what's going on?"

She sheepishly looked at me "You!"

"You told her that I knew? But WHY?" I just couldn't understand it.

"I'm so sorry Karen, I tried not to tell her, but she was so persistent and I needed it so badly. She made me tell her about you."

"You needed what? You need what so badly?"

"Her sneaker. I just needed to get off. I'm sorry. She wouldn't stop teasing me with it. It was about a week after I had confessed to you everything. She had been waiting for me in my office after school. She immediately saw the worried look on my face. It was because of you. I was worried what you might do, what you might say. But I didn't want to tell her."

I looked at her with some compassion and sympathy. She had been worried for me, even concerned about how I would take it all.

"But she demanded I tell her what was on my mind. She wouldn't even ride me around the office like usual. Even after she furiously struck my breasts with a ruler I still didn't tell. I didn't want you to get any further involved with this mess. But then..."

I watched her looked down in shame.

"She told me to lay on the floor and spread my legs. I felt so helpless, laying naked on my back in my own office, my tits still pink, with Annie standing so superior between my legs. Then she lifted her sneaker and brought it flat onto my mound. I distinctly remember shivering, knowing such a dirty, filthy object was making full contact with my sex."

I shivered myself; know full well the degrading act of it all.

"Then she began grinding her foot against me. I hated it; it was just so disgusting. But... I also needed it so bad. Not even my husband touches me there any more and it just felt..."

"You horny slut!" I cursed at her, slapping her in the face. I actually slapped my own boss. I just couldn't help it knowing my trust had been betrayed by a horny old Mrs. Polk, red tits and all, getting her rocks off fucking herself silly on a teenager's dirty sneaker.

"And that's it! You just gave in like that?"

"No. I promise I still tried. Even with her rubbing me I still refused to tell. But before I could... climax... she moved that damn foot away. I cried and cried for her to continue, but she just laughed at me. You just don't know how hard it has been for me, not sleeping with my husband anymore. I needed release SO BADLY. Finally someone would give it to me."

"You mean a fourteen year old girl?"

She shamefully put her hands to her face, hiding it from me.

"She demanded I beg for it. Beg to have her wedge her shoe up inside me. I did of course, and much, much more. I confirmed that I was her principal pet pony. That I like to crawl around in my office in my underwear with students sitting on me. She also made me admit that I am a horny old pig who lusts after middle school girls. That I secretly look through my window and diddle myself as I watch the school girls playing sports outside. She made me admit all of it, especially all about you. That you know almost everything."

I felt betrayed and hurt. This was my boss and my friend. She's supposed to protect and help me with the students, not blabber away private discussions between teacher and principal on the soles of a teenager's sneaker.