Blackmail

In the shower that next morning, I spent all my time thinking of how to get out of what I had to do. The "clothes" were still on my bedroom floor. How would Darla even know if I went to that mall, anyhow? But I couldn't avoid it, because she might show up, herself. But what if she didn't? Would I drive for an hour in basically nothing, go into a shopping mall... That was it... I had to go there, stand outside for five minutes, and go in. She didn't tell me how long to shop for. I could run to the first store I could find, buy some underwear, and leave immediately! When I got my bright idea, I started to shave my pubic hair. Just in case Darla did show up, I didn't want to get into trouble for having any hair, even if a very small amount of stubble. Besides, if I shaved every day, I'd get used to it, and I do still think I look good shaved.

Nobody I knew would be there, so nobody would see me in such a... well, a whorish outfit. I could easily avoid looking at people, too. I can do it, get it over with, and finish my business. No problems. I tried to tell myself that, anyhow. My stomach was tightening up. I would be hiding nothing. Nothing at all! The skirt would cover, at most, the top half of my butt, and the bottom of the front of the thong would be seen easily! What if there were children?! I'd have to adjust the top every couple dozen steps I took or my breasts would fall out, too. Not like they'd be functionally covered, anyhow! The thin black material of the six or so inch tall tube top wasn't going to leave anything to the imagination. Good thing I was done shaving by the time I had that thought, because I got distracted enjoying my breakfast a second time. The second time wasn't nearly so enjoyable, though, making that thought not at all true. After I managed to get it all down the drain, I washed myself again, made sure all the ideally smooth places were hairless, and went to get into my "clothes" for the day.

I checked in the mirror in my bedroom after putting it on. Just as I expected. I had to hold my shoulders just so, to prevent the top from rolling down or up. I was showing cleavage, so down would be my concern. Even from my point of view above the rim of the skirt, I could see the bright blue thong on my crotch. The worst part was that it was a tight thong, too. I had a camel toe. I did my best to smooth out the fabric, but every step or so it just went right back. Oh well, even if it's shape was known, it was technically covered. Though people would certainly try reading what it says, "Slippery when wet". Turning around and sighing, I could make out red and dark lines across my butt. Most of them were hidden by the skirt, but the few on the lower part of my butt were obvious. I looked closer. They were mostly bruise, and in fact looked much better today. They were still obvious against the normal color of my skin, though. I decided to cover them up. I got out my make-up and matched my normal skin tone. At least now I wouldn't worry about people asking about why my butt was bruised. As an extra bonus, the make-up helped me feel just a little more covered than I was. Even if it was an illusion, it was one I welcomed. I put the make-up I used in my purse. I got a big purse, so that I could at least hide some of me behind it and feel a little more secure. On an impulse, I got out some jeans and a nice, normal blouse, placing them in my purse. Of course I'd be unable to change, but having them made me feel more comfortable, somehow.

In front of the door, I tried to adjust the skirt, get it lower. The waist was tight, but I managed to slide it down about half an inch. I considered unbuttoning the one button on the waist, but then it might fall too far, and it'd look funny besides. I didn't really expect it to cover me any worthwhile amount anyhow, but I was putting as much effort as I could into at least feeling like I was covered. And failing miserably. I thought I could handle it, until getting to the door. It was a Saturday morning. People were bound to be outside. How would Darla know if I wore a large jacket out to my car? She didn't say not to, did she? I banked on that. I got a nice, long jacket from the closet behind me. It went lower than the skirt, barely managing to cover my butt, and covered everything north of that point. It bolstered my courage enough to open the door, shut it behind me, lock it, and get to my car. As I walked to my car I could feel that the bottom of my ass was still being shown off, but only the very bottom. It was still better than what there would have been without the jacket. In my car I pulled out a make-up mirror and checked my ass, after pulling forward. Seeing a bit of blue, I almost fixed the make-up, but figured it'd be better to wait until the mall. I had an hour's drive and my butt was on a car seat.

The drive was uneventful. Nobody honked or acted oddly in any other way, since I looked like just some lady driving. I suppose I was one. That was my new favorite jacket. On the drive, I realized the make-up might just have been a bad idea, still. What if it rubbed off on the skirt? Well, I decided, I would just have to check that and take care of it when I got there, and perhaps in the bathroom there to be doubly sure. I was worried about the day, about people thinking I'm a harlot, the kind of men I'd not date anyhow hitting on me, etc. The parking lot lowered my morale. The drive was boring enough, and I barely noticed anyhow, with my worry. The parking lot was packed. I drove around once, but it was already 11:56. I got the first spot I could find that was at all close, and scooted forward to hurriedly reapplly as much make-up as I could onto my butt-bruises. My skirt didn't seem to have much make-up on it, and only the inside had any at that, so I was safe to at least get to the front door and then bathroom. My car's seat, on the other hand, had some make-up smeared all over. I ignored it as I took off my jacket. I opened the door as I took my jacket off my right arm. I figured it'd get me to leave my car, it being open, anyhow. I had two minutes, as it was, and I had no idea how Darla was going to see if I was doing what she said.

I was right. The door was open, so I got right out. I noticed two men in my periphery, as I shut and locked my car door. I tried not to look at them as I started walking to the front of the mall, but I couldn't avoid it. I was too worried about what they might be thinking about me. When I looked, the larger of the two men, both large and muscular looking already, said something to the effect of my having a nice ass. There was a slight wind and I had a hard time hearing over my heart beats, though. I looked away and hurried towards the front of the mall. There were at least six people smoking, there. I didn't look directly at any of them. I was already shaking, but about then, only about a dozen paces from my car, I realized I was cold. Except my butt. I could feel the heat of the two men behind me staring at it. They were looking directly at my butt-cheeks, in broad day light. They probably didn't notice the makeup that seemed to cover so much, before. But what if they did? What if they asked about it? How could anyone take a woman seriously when she has make-up all over her overly exposed butt? How could she be taken seriously dressed this way?

Finally, I made it to the front entrance of the mall. My first impulse was to wait on one of the benches, but then I realized they were both on the walkway towards the doors, facing one another. I wouldn't want to be forced to face the people on the opposite bench, so I walked to the angled wall just before them, where there was a corner blocking most of the view from the doorway and benches. As I got to the wall, I wanted to simply stand facing it. However, I realized that would draw even more attention, as it's simply odd. So, I got to the wall, turned around, adjusted the top, and leaned back.

The two men I had seen in the corner of my eye earlier were approaching me! Slowly, but surely. Fortunately, that was also the moment I heard my phone. It was tucked away in my purse and under the clothes, so it might have been going off for a while before I noticed it, but I thanked God that it was going off. I held my big purse in front of me as I searched for my phone. I managed to grab it and answer it before the two men got to me, so I turned to the side slightly, so the phone and my purse would be between me and them, and asked, "Hello?"

"Hello, bitch.', Darla replied, "I have something else for you to do, today."

"Okay, what is it?", I asked, trying to keep the conversation short. Apparently, I wanted to deal with the men more than Darla.

"Excuse me?!", Darla said, shocked.

"What is it, Mistress?", I shaped my mouth so the words would only be heard on the other end of the line.

"Louder, bitch.", She must have wanted people to hear. Damn her!

"What would you like me to do, Mistress?", I said even louder than I meant to. I felt motion to my left, the direction to the walkway and the men who were approaching. I glanced and the two men seemed to be waiting about five feet away. I tried to shrink into the wall I was against, and I turned my head farther away from that direction.

"You will give your phone number to at least three different guys, today, bitch. You will instruct each of them to call you, in order, at five, six, and seven o'clock, tonight. Do this before getting your underwear, and explain to them that you're underwear shopping, and will buy something to wear especially for them if they kiss you. Repeat those orders back to me so I know you have them right, bitch.", She instructed almost monotonously, as though reading them.

My light headedness forced me to hesitate before repeating it, since I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to faint, "Mistress, I will give three men my number, telling them to call me at five, six, and seven o'clock, tonight. I will tell them I'll buy something to wear for them in exchange for a kiss."

"Good bitch. Now, go to a store called 'Tigress Apparel', and do your shopping, after those new instructions. Bye bye.", Before I could answer her, she hung up. I don't know how red my face was by then, but I figured I'd take what I had as quickly as I could.

I turned to the men as I put my phone in my purse. They were fairly attractive, being tall and well muscled. The dark haired one was in a blue jogging suit, and the blond was in a red T-shirt and jeans. Immediately upon looking at them I felt naked. I could feel the air on most of my body, the only parts somewhat protected were nigh irrelevant compared to what was showing. The blond stood to the side and didn't try to hide where his eyes were going, but the dark haired one snapped his eyes up to meet mine. I don't remember how the conversation started out. I started shaking. I wondered if they noticed. I remember coming close to passing out my head felt so light, but I managed to get out my pen and note pad to write down my number. The dark haired one was named Jake, and the blond was Tony. I gave them each my number, and both accepted the kiss.

The conversation was led mostly by Jake. He made a lot of small talk, asking what I do, what television programs I like, and other such irrelevancies. I don't think I said a single word I didn't stuttor over, for the first few replies I made. I told him that I work as a toll booth operator, and that I like televisions shows I don't even watch. I absolutely did not want to tell these guys who I actually was! And that got me to feel less uncomfortable. I could eventually stand without leaning against the wall behind me or stuttering. It was as though I was playing a role. I got to see myself from outside myself, as though this was a TV show and I was doing as I was only vicariously.

I think I don't remember most of the conversation because the kisses were so... ambivolently accepted. Both men were cute and they didn't seem too dumb, but this was forced, unnatural. I didn't want to kiss them because Darla told me to. Jake leaned right down, put his arms around me, and pulled me in for a kiss. My surreal perspective almost cracked, but I maintained it. It was big, wet, and sloppy. Jake moved away slowly, winking. Then, Tony came in for a kiss. He came in slower, lower. His arms went around me, and he put his lips against mine. He kissed slowly. He was not overly aggressive in kissing. However, his hand moved down from it's place on my back, past and under my skirt. The motion started slowly, and I was dubious, but he completed it quickly. I wasn't ready, so could not stop him. He grabbed a hand full of butt-cheek. I must have stopped kissing, because he got slightly more aggressive. I kissed back a bit, just enough to mainatin my surreal screen, and his hand grasped my butt tenderly. I expected the kiss and my eyes were closed, so I could mostly ignore it's bothersomeness. That hand on my butt almost made my screen collapse, though. In retrospect, I would have liked to slap that man and run away into the mall, but that, too, would have shattered the screen I was looking through.

"Let us escort you in, madam. ", He said as he pulled away, "Jake is actually running late for work, and I'm his ride. I planned on getting something to eat before leaving, though. Would you join me?"

"Uh... yeah, sure.", I said. I was dumb-struck. I had no idea how to react except to agree. Doing anything else would have been out of character, forcing me to face the facts.

"Alright, well, I want to pick up my check, since Tony and I work at the same place, so I'll meet you at the food court in about fifteen minutes?"

"Yeah, okay.", I said.

As we started walking towards the door, Tony lifted his hand to look at it. He paused in his stride, but picked back up and turned his hand to me, "What's this?"

There was a light powdery stuff lightly coating his palm and insides of his fingers. I had a brilliant idea, "Oh no! It's a story, guys, but it's make-up. I'm going to run to the bathroom to reapply it, and I'll tell you all about it at the food court, okay?"

I started to run off. and the guys replied that was okay, though they looked a bit baffled. Good. I made my way to the bathroom, which wasn't far from the door, and I locked myself in a booth. Who knew guys would be so forward?! They were all over me, like... the slut I looked like. No more fooling myself, I brought those clothes in my purse to change into. I took off the skirt and tube top, which was overly simple, and got the clothes out of my purse. I lacked a bra, but what I had on was still far better than what was before it. I put the old clothes in my purse and I waited until I was pretty sure the two guys would be out of site. About two minutes, I think. While I waited, I calmed myself down. My heart was beating faster than I thought it could, and I felt very faint. I didn't want to risk collapsing in the mall and having Tony find me that way. I was already angry and anxious enough. I composed myself and left the bathroom.

Fortunately, Tigress Apparel wasn't far from the doors. It was a women's shop that seemed to focus on lingerie, though it also had formal wear and accessories. I tried not to spend much time looking through everything, to avoid Tony on my way out. That's when I realized I had to give another guy my phone number. I looked around, but there weren't any men in the store. I walked to the entrance and saw plentiful men pass by, so I got out my pen and notepad and jotted down my number. I took the piece of paper and put the rest back in my purse. Then I realized Darla would never know, so I put the paper in my pocket and went back to shopping. I don't know how I knew Darla would never know, but I couldn't imagine how she would. Besides, I already disobeyed one order, why not another? It felt liberating enough. Maybe I could face Darla the next day with a straight face. Quickly, I bought six new pairs of underwear, all thongs. A slightly overweight teenager rang me up and I was off. I dashed for my car and began the drive home.

About ten minutes from home, my phone rang. It was Darla. Half of my mind screamed to not answer, but I did anyhow, "Hello?"

"Hi, bitch." replied Darla, seeming almost pleasant for some reason.

"How are you, Mistress?", I asked, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, I'm fine. I just called to tell you to wear your new underwear to school. You know, since it's the only kind you have. However, no nylons or stockings unless I say otherwise. You must wear a skirt every day. Also, bring the harness and both the dildo and butt-plug to school with you, bitch.", she hung up before I could reply. I was anxious the rest of the drive home, but made it safely. When I got in I first changed into comfortable clothes. Finally having some time to myself, I did some actual work. The anxiety faded as I worked. It was easy, checking papers. I'd done it a lot before then, and it wasn't very hard. And it was very useful for getting my mind off of my predicament while I was in no position to do anything about it. I had lunch while I worked, after my stomach had settled enough to. I had a second TV dinner. My stomach, being no longer queezy, was greedy instead. Understandably.

I hadn't payed much attention to the time, when my phone rang. I hadn't gotten my hand halfway to it before I realized who it might be. I checked the number, and I didn't recognize it. I didn't have the courage, after all that relaxing, to answer, so I let it go to voice mail. After the voice mail tone started, I shut off the ringer and put it on the charger. Ignoring my phone for one night would likely not lead to disaster, and I wanted the night to myself. After I was done with what work I had the attention for, I made dinner and put in a movie. It got to about ten o'clock and I decided to go to bed. I managed to sleep, too. Peacefully for most of the night.

I woke up at about 2 AM, panicked. I was sweating. I had a headache. The world was rolling around me. My teeth were chattering. I couldn't breath, though I tried. I crawled to the bathroom. Maybe the emergency would be apparent in the mirror. I flipped on the light and pulled myself up to the sink. I turned, and the body mirror simply showed a sleepy, sweaty woman, hyperventilating. I was glad I was able to identify the problem so quickly. I concentrated, looked at the floor. Calming down was hard to do, but I focused on my breathing. I purposefully slowed and shallowed my breathing. It felt wholly unnatural, but I knew it was for the best. Finally, my breathing was normal.

The health risk out of the way, I was still incredibly nervous, anxious, confused, and fearful. Still concentrating on my breathing, I wondered what would cause such a thing. Of course, stress would, but I never thought it might wake me up like that. I realized I was breathing deeper, so I stopped thinking about it. I was, when I shifted my focus, incredibly awake and alert. I went back and lied down in bed, but all I could think about was having to go back to school, and Darla's being there. Why did she want me to bring the harness? Was she aware of my disobedience, somehow? What if I made a mistake and let someone find out about what was going on? Would it really be a mistake? What if a student found out? Would I have another Mistress or Master? How could I get out of this?

No, the seating arrangements from last year. They were still in my filing cabinet. I needed to discover where exactly Greg sat last year, and in which class. I had a lead, I couldn't give up now. Not after four days. Had I been ready to? What was I dreaming about that caused me to hyperventilate spontaneously in the middle of the night? Was I dreaming? What could have caused that? Well, I was doing a bad job avoiding the stress, but I didn't begin to hyperventilate again, so I didn't bother changing my mental track. Oh no, what if Chad had something to do with it? Would he do that? No, he was a gentleman. He initiated things, but he was kind. I was the one who, after the first several times, initiated the sex. He worried about it too much. I should have conceded to his worries, dammit! Wait... why did he suddenly lack initiative after those first few times? I simply thought he was caring and gentlemanly, but what if he knew something? What if he let slip that we were having an affair, and he thought one of his friends or classmates might... do... what they did?!

It was sheer conjecture, but I felt like I was getting somewhere. I would have to find a way to get a hold of Chad. Maybe his student files were still kept in the computer system. They'd have to be, right? Maybe his phone number or address or something was in it. I swore I'd allow Chad to grow up and become a man before I thought about him like that again. The fact of the taboo of the relationship, even if it wouldn't last, perhaps, made me call it off. Chad understood. He didn't fight it, but we were both sad. Indeed, he agreed. He needed to go to college, grow up, and I needed to cool off from him. The relationship... why did it have to end, really? He was almost of age right before we stopped seeing each other, why couldn't we just continue? No, he did have to grow up. I've seen too many high school romances, teaching at one. I even had some when I was in school, so I know they're passionate and exciting. However, the children were just that; Children. It was passionate and exciting, but it was basically over when the passion and excitement ended. I needed to let go of Chad before that happened to him. I wanted him to think positively of me, instead of having a big fight and making a scene. Indeed, I had good reason to avoid such a scene. But that didn't change the fact I needed to talk to him. I hoped I could maintain my calm when I did.

I woke up to my alarm. I must have managed to fall asleep. Good. I felt sticky from sweating, so I took my shower before eating. Again, it was cold. Again, I didn't know why I chose to take a cold shower. I shaved and cleaned, then dressed. The panties looked good on me. How I wished the circumstances of my wearing them were different. Typical bra, typical blouse, typical skirt. No nylons, so I felt kind of dressed down, but not nearly as bad as I had these past several days. My stomach was mildly upset, but I managed to shove some cold food down my throat. Besides, I had to hurry and get to the school to look for Chad and Greg's records and such. I made sure everything I needed (and was told) was in my briefcase and left.

Another uneventful drive later, I was at the school. I went immediately to the main office. The only office worker there was sorting through some files, so I waited patiently in front of her. In less than a minute, she smiled and greeted me. I returned the greeting and asked how I could access the last year's students records. She told me, and it was just as simple as getting access to any current student's record, until they've been gone for four years, which is when it gets archived. She had some sorting to do, so she got up and let me use her computer. I copied down both Chad and Greg's addresses and phone numbers, and noticed Greg was in my fourth period last year. That narrowed down the seating arrangement search. I thanked the office lady, exited the program, got my mail, and went to my classroom.

I got halfway to my desk before feeling the presence to my right. My left was to the wall with the chalkboard, but someone was in the center of the front row to my right. I stopped and looked at them, shouting in surprise. It was Darla. She had a strange, severe look and her arms were folded across her chest. I became suddenly aware of my underwear and the air sliding up my skirt. I was about to say something to her, though I hadn't figured out what before my mouth was opened. She beat me to it.

"bitch, stand still and don't say a damned word.", and she walked to the room's door, shutting and locking it. My heart sank into my breakfast as she approached and stopped right in front of me, "Take off your skirt and underwear."

I stood for a moment. I thought I'd have a bit of the morning here to myself. Why was she there so early? Morning was not like night, the door is generally open. What if someone walks by and gets curious?

"Now, bitch!", She shouted, slapping me in the face. My first reaction was to slap her back, but my position struck me harder than her hand had. I hesitated a split second longer. My heart needed time to turn into butter. I began to unbutton my skirt, and she turned towards the desk she was at. She was rifling through her bag, or at least making it seem she was. My skirt hit the floor, followed by my new, red, thong panties. For some odd reason, I began to get protective of my crotch. I wasn't covering it, because that would likely make her angry, but I was preparing to cover it when she turned around. Did I think she was going to club it?

She turned around and thrust a new skirt at me, "Put this one on, bitch.", she said.

I took it from her, and I hesitated. She ignored me and picked up my purse and briefcase She turned and set it on the desk next to the one her bag was on. She was going to go through them. Shit. What if she found my homework on Chad and Greg? But, I also wanted to be covered, so I began to put the new skirt on. It's length bothered me. It was very short. It was possibly shorter than the one she made me wear on Friday. It had larger pleats and seemed lighter, too. I worried over that as I pulled it up. Maybe it would sit low on me? Nope. I had it up and buttoned, and it sat in the same place. I felt the air cleanly. But those pleats and the light material. I twisted my hips, and the hem flung up a bit. Oh no. I looked up at Darla. She was putting the harness into her bag, along with the dildo and butt-plug.

When she zipped up her bag, she shut my briefcase and purse. Then, she turned and looked at me, with that same look she had when I came in, "That is what you wear all day. It's what you get for disobeying me. You said you didn't want me to do things like this to you at school, but I told you I'd consider it depending on how reliable you were. You proved unreliable, so now you get embarrassed at school, bitch! You underestimated me, and that was your mistake. Don't think I won't end up going to the principal if you continue to be so bad, girl!

I felt very hot. I was getting light headed, and my bewilderment was doing nothing but growing, so I had to ask, "What? What are yo..."

Before I got more than those three (point something) words out, Darla slapped me, "I told you not to talk, bitch!"

I looked back to her. I knew there was nothing I could do, I would have to wear the skirt, today. DAMMIT! Wait... Darla turned and opened her bag as I distracted myself with thought. She took the lube and butt-plug from it. As I watched, she applied some lube to it, and spread it around. I tried to plead with my eyes. Darla looked angrily at me and replied, "No, you deserve this. Any attempts at getting a less severe punishment will be met with a more severe one. If you do it again, I will turn the vibrating butt plug on high and leave it on that way all day. Second time, I go to the principal's office. But you can avoid it, instead. You know your place, now act it, bitch!"

She handed me the butt-plug. I was hot and shaking with anger, but I took it from her. I reached behind me and pulled up the back of the skirt, to avoid getting lubricant on it. Darla's threat was in the front of my mind, and I realized I should try to please her. A decision I made a few days ago but couldn't seem to stick to. I turned around and bent over a bit. That way I wouldn't have to look at her, but I'd be giving her a good view. I moved the tip against my asphincter. I didn't want to shove it right in, so I made a small show of rubbing it against me. That gave me time to relax, and she would probably enjoy it. Too bad I was having a hard time relaxing. I decided to give it a go, anyway. I figured the faster it went in, the sooner she might leave. I felt the pressure against my asphincter, but I didn't want to be too rough. I remember it hurt last time. It started to go in without problem. I couldn't say how far it had gotten, not as far as the first time, when it began to hurt. Not a terrible pain, but a burning or stretching. I continued to push slowly, and getting it all the way in seemed impossible. I had forgotten how big it was.

"Stop playing, bitch.", Darla said. I almost whined, but I managed to keep my focus. I shoved harder. It hurt pretty badly, and I squealed as it got the rest of the way in. It ached as it rested inside my anus. I turned to look at her. I tried to hide my grimace as she watched me for a moment. She grabbed me suddenly. Her arms were around me and she pulled me in. I jerked in surprise, but did not resist. She kissed me. Deeply. I went along with it, of course. I doubt my show of affection seemed at all real to her, but I also doubt she cared. She shoved me away and turned to get her things from the desk behind her. After getting her bag and purse, she walked to the door of the room. I only watched, fearful, humiliated, and anxious.

She turned after unlocking the door, but before opening it, "If I hear that you've altered your dress in any way, and I would, you'll pay for it, bitch.".

She left. After listening to her footsteps fade, I hurried to the door and locked it behind her. What was I going to do?! I couldn't very well allow my students to see me as I was. I leaned my back on the door as I thought about my problem. This skirt was simply too short! What if the students could see my privates, or more importantly the butt-plug, without me even bending over?! I simply couldn't do that. But was prison worth it? How would Darla find out? Well, she somehow discovered something I did wrong, probably the previous day, or else she wouldn't do that to me. Or would she test me this way? Why?!

"GAH!", I shouted. Without thinking, I grabbed my purse and threw it against the chalkboard. It was followed by my briefcase. I was about to try throwing a desk the same way when I realized the only mirror in the room was in my purse. I also realized I would need that mirror to check what could actually be seen by my students. I ran to it after the realization struck me. Falling onto my knees, I rifled through the purse. The plug stretched me the whole time, still sore. I wished I could relax! I found my blush, but the mirror inside was shattered. It fell, along with blush chunks, onto the floor as I opened it. I had nothing in the room to clean it with, and I no longer had the ability to check the skirt for it's level of revealing. I stood and checked manually. I felt the skirt downwardly, from the top of the back to the bottom. I felt it get below my butt. However, it stopped barely and inch or so from where my butt did (and where I could feel the base of the large intruder, which remained uncomfortable). And that was as I held it down.

But what could I do about it, anyway? Darla took my only other clothes. What was I going to do about that butt-plug?! If a student saw my privates, it would be embarrassing in the extreme, but if they saw something up my butt I'd be downright humiliated! And I might lose my job, dammit! I had to check it out better, so I got up the courage to go to the bathroom. Students never showed up until class was about to start, anyhow, and I still had fifteen minutes. FIFTEEN?! Shit!

I ran to the bathroom. I thought I heard something behind me as I ran besides my door shutting but I had to presume it was my imagination, for the sake of my sanity. I did not look. I made it to the bathroom, and it was empty, just as I suspected. This reminder of my good times with Chad that was Darla was going too far! I immediately ran to a mirror and tried to see how short the skirt looked. The mirror was too high and there was a sink, so I had to walk back from it. I was forced to press against the stall door to get a good view. The view ended up not being good at all. The way I was leaning, I could see the bottom of my butt, along with the very bottom portion of the base of the butt plug. I moved around trying to see what could get covered. I tried pulling the skirt down. Nothing worked. I could still see the plug in my butt. I knew it was due to the peculiar way I was standing, but it also meant it would be easy to show it off without this position, being that I was trying to lower my skirt's hem.

I made up my mind to continue playing Darla's game to avoid situations like this, but I had an idea for now. When I got back to class, I did what I did the previous week. I wrote everything I needed to on the board. When I sat down I used the tape on my desk, folding it over so it stuck on two sides like when you put up a poster, and stuck the skirt to my legs. Now I would neither have to get up, nor would students see how severely short my skirt was from the side. My plan even worked. Certainly, some of the boys looked at me a bit longer than I'd have liked, and it did make me suspicious they knew why I shifted my weight so often. However, it only seemed natural to look at someone who's attractive after a show like the one I put on last week. Such slutty clothes... in front of my classes. But that was not the time to self-condemn. I followed my plan through.

By lunch, I was grateful to actually stand. I had enough of boys staring at me, the reasons they would pestering me all morning, so I was flustered. Primarily, though, the butt-plug I had in began to actually chafe and otherwise annoy the insides of my cheeks, anus, and sphincter. I didn't stand until the period bell, of course. I didn't want to risk someone walking by and seeing what I had happening, if I could avoid it. When I first got up, the pressure inside was relieved slightly, but it was replaced with the sensations of bothered flesh as I actually moved towards the door. The pressure was down, but I felt proddings with each step, and it continually chafed some more on my cheeks and sphincter. I also had what felt like a very mild cramp inside my gut. But I got to the door and almost shut the door. Almost.

I shouted when Darla came around the corner of the cranny the room's door was in. She was smiling and holding a brown paper bag, "I brought lunch for both of us, bitch!", she whispered as she pulled the door shut behind her. I came pretty close to panicking. I planned on using this time to plan for the next class and writing things on the board! Not only would Darla's presence deny me of that, I'd also probably have to do humiliating bitch things as always! The wind of the shutting door and her walking past me made me realize how short the skirt was and that there was no underwear under it. I had known it before, but Darla's presence seemed to fling it to the front of my mind, whereas I was thinking of other things before she got here, I was distracted. Of course, I was distracted by the butt-plug, which was still annoying me just as much as before she got here except now I was worried she might make it vibrate, further bothering me.

I made sure the door was locked before turning to see what she was doing. As I suspected from the sounds, she had sit down in the desk she was at earlier in the day. Her backpack was to the side and the paper bag was on the desk in front of her. She was going through it as I turned. She wasn't looking at me, and I was happy about that, for the moment. She took out a sandwich in a plastic baggy, a can of coke, and a bag of baked chips. She crumpled up the bag and tried to toss it into the garbage next to my desk. She missed by almost three feet. I've never seen anyone miss a garbage can of that size by so much from about eight feet away.

"Bitch, go pick up that garbage and throw it away", she ordered, cooly. Ah, so she must have missed on purpose, to get me to bend over for her. She seemed nonchallant enough for me to consider it possible she simply missed, though. Well, that wasn't really that big a deal, so I figured I'd do it in a way she enjoyed, anyhow. She took a bite of the sandwich as I walked over to the garbage. I placed one hand on the rim of the garbage can, faced away from her, and bent over. I considered spreading my legs a bit, but that consideration was immediatly dashed by what little of my self respect remained. As it was, I bent mostly at the waste, bending my knees only out of habit, and not much. I grabbed the balled up bag at about the same moment the butt-plug began to vibrate. It wasn't Particularily strong, but it gave me the sensation of being a bit fuller and it bothered the agitated skin of my cheeks and sphincter. The fulness, I think was simply the vibrations rumbling the flesh, which was still a sensation I considered weird and, considering the source, gross.

Why hadn't she made me have the dildo in, instead? Actually, I'm sure the answer is because the dildo wouldn't stay in on it's own. Butt-plugs are designed to stay put, while dildo's are designed not to. In that regard, anyway, I was glad which she chose. But only that regard. Anyway, my attention was reoriented, back onto the garbage. I grabbed it, I must have dropped it when the plug started vibrating, and began to slowly stand. Before I had gotten halfway back up, Darla said authoritatively yet not very loudly, "No, get on your hands and knees, then come here when it's thrown away."

I was sure worse was to come, so I didn't have much worry about doing that. I got down on all fours, a bit faster than I was just rising. After getting on my knees I threw the bag away, then I put my hands on the ground. I turned my torso so that I was facing her, then turned the rest of me to catch up with the front. She motioned me to her with her finger, smiling with a full mouth. I lost the will to look directly at her, prefering the floor, and I crawled over to her. I moved with a short gate, since the plug was bothering me. When I got over there, without saying anything, she motioned me to the front of her desk. I eventually got maneuvered to being on my hands and knees, with an arched back to stick my butt up and tits out. I faced the window, my butt towards the door, the plug (not so) proudly displayed to anyone who might have come in. I worried I did not lock the door, that my memory decieved me on the point, but I had to trust that I did.

When I was finally how Darla wanted me, without giving me the chance to say anything, she put her feet up on my back. She was using me as an ottoman! A foot rest, an inanimate object, unworth any respect! Without saying a word, she reminded me of my place. Perhaps that was why she was here, only to remind me of her power. Making me wear the skirt with the butt-plug was enough, or so I thought, but obviously she disagreed.

And so I sat for some number of minutes. I couldn't move my body in such a way that I could see the time, so I had no idea how much time I had remaining of the lunch period, precious time to write on the board and prepair for fourth period. I could guess, perhaps even well, but when it came right down to it I did not know. Darla seemed to take her time eating in silense. I could hear every crunch from her chips, and she seemed to chew her sandwich longer than necessary. I accidentally distracted myself from self-pity by counting and estimating an average in the number of bites of sandwich and chips she ate between drinks of pop. Three and two, respectively. That was a guess of an average, but I have no reason to suspect it was off by any serious amount. It didn't matter anyway, it was simple distraction.

Some time later, I got distracted again, this time by the major distration of the day; the butt-plug. It began vibrating much more powerfully. Darla lifted her feet from my back and set them on the ground. I looked over and saw her sitting upright, at my strange angle, "Get up.", she ordered.

The vibrator made me stand slowly. It felt... the best word I can think of is "awkward". I simply couldn't close my legs all the way, nor could I stand straight, though I'm sure being in the same position for so long had something to do with that. The plug felt larger. The vibrations could be felt down my legs and in my belly. My feminine parts were exposed to the quaking. A loud buzzing could be heard reverberating around the room. I felt almost as though I was getting shocked by it. I felt like I had a mildly upset stomach. The label claiming these things were powerful wasn't lying. I was uncomfortable in abdomen. I simply couldn't stand properly. It wasn't possible. By the time I was finally oriented, Darla was to me.

"Full power, bitch", she said in a loud whisper, "Imagine if it were the dildo. This is exactly why I bought them. Though they go through batteries like hell."

Darla embraced me. She started kissing me. I kissed her back, but it had to be consciously forced. It didn't take too long before she pushed her tongue into my mouth. It felt awkward kissing like that without actually having any desire for the person you're kissing. I knew what to do, mechanicially, but it still felt wrong. She seemed to get excited, but I was still only reacting to her. As we kissed, she moved her hands along my back. Her nails dragged across the back of my shirt softly. The vibrations seemed a little more intense, but only frontwards. I wondered if it had shifted position, but the vibrating was strong enough that I was simply unable to tell.

Darla's hand moved down to my butt-cheek, after a few minutes. She lifted the skirt with her thumb and dug her hand under it to actually get my cheek, and my cheek covered by cloth. She made a noise and her mouth stiffened a little. it seemed an affirmation, but I couldn't tell what of. Her hand moved inward, and I felt some extra pressure on the plug. Her fingers tickled their way down from there, and I soon felt them on my vulva. I remember getting exceedingly upset, but focused so as not to get in trouble. The vibrations were flowing through her fingers, perhaps because her palm was pressing the plug. Not only was my vulva shaking a bit by itself, but now there was a second reverberation on it, with a little resistance. My anger, though, was overcome by how good it felt. She stopped kissing, or more accurately "making out", with me long enough to whisper, "You're a very wet little slut."

She followed it up by immediately thrusting some fingers into my vagina. My throat got tight with frustration, but I actually started enjoying the making-out. It seemed like Darla could tell. Her fingers moved around. I prayed they would stop. How would I be able to look at myself in the mirror ever again if she kept making me cum? I had to resist the pleasure. I thought about where I was. My classroom. Mid-day, lunch time. No doubt the end lunch bell would ring soon, and I had to not be found like this! To make matters worse, I had to write on the board still! No... I was getting close! So fast? How could she do this!

Suddenly, she withdrew her fingers, stopped kissing me, and flipped off the vibrater. I couldn't tell exactly what was going through her mind, but she seemed upset about something. I just hoped she wouldn't punish me for forgetting something small and arbitrary, again. She pushed me away and shortly announced, "You be ready for me at the door after school, bitch. On your knees, tits against the door. You'll get your lunch then. Here."

As she finished, she released me and moved over to her bag. She got into it and pulled out her video camera, "As you wait for me, this will be recording you. You'll earn bonus points for finding a good angle."

Then the bell rang. I was dazed for a moment. No food, no time to write on the board. I had to hide the camera! I grabbed the camera, but she didn't immediately let go. I looked up at her face, finally, curious why she wouldn't just let me take the camera. As though it were for any reason other than to torment me. She licked her lips and leaned closer. I hesitated, as my head seemed to be getting warmer, but leaned in to kiss her. It wasn't a long one. She released the camera almost as soon as I kissed her, and I didn't bother continuing the kiss once I got the camera. I realized that was a bad move as I walked to the door. Darla probably wanted a longer one, but I couldn't afford to hesitate. Couldn't replay the past, either. So I continued to the door and unlocked it, then quickly strode to my desk realizing I didn't want anyone to walk in while I was bending over.

I risked a glance at Darla as I put the camera in my desk drawer, and she still seemed upset. I was probably going to get it after class. That realization gave me a bit more haste. If I was in trouble anyway, I was going to write everything on the board that I needed at least. She was satisfied, it seemed. She sat in her desk without saying anything. I tried to hurry, but my legs were shaky.  To my surprise, class occured mostly normally. I was very uncomfortable in that skirt, with the plug in, but Darla didn't demand my attention in any special way, and she left like any other student at the end of class. I got the board ready for the next class before any students showed up. Of course, I didn't have to write much for that class, but I still considered it lucky. And the class after that I didn't have to put anything on the board, I realized, so I just stayed at my desk.

After class, after all the students left, I waited. I had placed the camera in my desk. I forgot how much I was dreading it, durring my last class. If placed on my desk, it would get me from behind. I wondered if that would be a good angle. What would she consider a good angle? I didn't feel like worrying about it too much, so my desk was decided upon, though I didn't contemplate it long. I almost slammed the camera down. What if she made me cum? How can she even do that? Why didn't the fact she doesn't arouse me factor into that? I decided to see a shrink. I wasn't sure what I would tell a shrink, but I had to figure that out. That was the worst thing about my situation. The fact my feminine parts betrayed me only made it appear I liked things I decidedly hated! I almost slammed my head into the blackboard, but decided to stop thinking about that.

I strpped down to nothing except the butt plug and my shoes. Suddenly realizing I forgot to lock the door, I heard something on the other side of it. I felt suddenly dizzy and unable to react. I wished to high heaven I could have reacted faster, but I didn't. I knew I had two choices. I was still near my desk, so I could dive under or behind it, even though my feet and hands, and perhaps more, might be visible. Or I could charge the door. Shut it as it opened, if I were fast enough, and then lock it. That would certainly be more suspicious than an empty room, but hiding would be more likely to end in discovery. But I did neither. I staired at the door, fully nude and exposed. Whomever came through would surely find me stairing at them, nude, with a stupidly blank stair. How would I react? How would they react? Who would it be? Why wasn't I moving?!

After several moments, the door remaned closed. Maybe nobody was there? But what if someone was, and they were just... taking a long time. ... To open a door. I realized how long the moment became, and loosened my muscles. Nobody was there. There weren't even any noises. The original was just some noise from the hallway. But what if someone started coming in, saw me, and shut the door? Was I looking at the door to have realized it? The camera! I realized I had started it before stripping! It was a pretty straight-forward camera, and it took me no time to figure out how to work it. However, I erred on the side of precaution and locked my door as I tried to figure it out! I watched the whole twenty seconds of video, and my door remained closed throughout. I caught the noise, though. After replaying it several times, I hypothesized it was a book that fell from someplace out in the hallway. I didn't care where, since I knew it wasn't someone seeing me as I was.

The experience unnerved me. I found myself looking at the window, expecting to find someone looking in on me. What if a superintendant was climbing either to the top of this building or the one across the field, in view of my window? I continually glanced that way as I set the camera back up and went over to the door. After getting on my knees and spreading them to touch the door frame and placing my hands on my head, I didn't have the guts to look. I pressed my breasts against the cold door, and could feel someone stairing at me from the window. I knew it was my over reacting, but the sensation would not go away. It seemed better to not know about it. Even if it were true, I prefered thinking it was my imagination, no matter how real it felt.

I heard some people walk along the hallway. Five times within ten minutes. I was growing bored and worried, so I eventually looked at the window. Nobody. I kept looking, thinking maybe they were hiding from me. I couldn't see anyone, so I looked back to the door. The door was boring, but I felt someone looking again. Maybe it was just the camera. With this tape, she could embarass me more. Was she really broadcasting the things I did onto the internet? I didn't think about that very long. I assumed she was bluffing, when she said that. I wouldn't allow myself to believe that. She might lose her power over me, and I my job, if that were true!

Before I expected it, slowly growing footprints and three knocks. My heartbeat increased and I felt hotter. The lock rattled then clicked. The door swung open. There was Darla. Her dress was already over her waist. She didn't spend but a moment standing still. She ordered me to grab my elbows behind my back and display my "tits". I did, and she stepped over me. She placed her vuvla over my mouth, shut the door behind her, wich pushed her vulva into my mouth harder, and she grabbed my head. I knew what she wanted, and I did it. I tried to get her off quickly, as she moaned curse words at me. Then she got off. Very quickly, I thought. And she kissed me, then opened the door, let her dress fall back in place, and she left, shutting the door behind her.

No, that was too easy. I wasn't convinced that was all she wanted. Why didn't she torment me? Why was the plug not turned on? Granted, I didn't want any of that, but it seemed... off. She barely even spoke, except in the throse of passion. But, then, I suppose I had only known her in her current position over for a small while. Could I expect more of this? I think I could stand my life if that was all she expected each day. But I knew she expected more. That day had to be an exception. Why was she in such a hurry? I continued to ponder what had happened as I stood and removed the plug. My rear felt empty afterwards, but I was more than fine with that. I placed it in my briefcase, put my clothes back on, and thought about how to get to my car. I tried for hallways that avoid the offices, and I only encountered one other teacher, sort of. It was a math teacher, but I don't think he noticed me, as I turned a corner as soon as I knew he was there. There were kids in the soccer field as I walk towards my car, but they were far away and I didn't pay any attention to whether they were paying attention to me, though it felt like they were. And I drove home. That Monday ended too easy. It almost bothered me as much as everything else.

To make matters even stranger, she only showed up outside of class a total of five more times that entire week. The very next time was the next morning, when she showed up before classes started to tell me to be at my door every day with only one of my new pairs of underwear, as originally planned. The other four times were each day after classes had gotten out. Just like on Monday, she showed up with her skirt hiked up at least most of the way, forced me to service her, and left without a word. I began thinking that this situation wasn't all that bad after all. The risk of getting caught was stil there after school each day, but it was reduced a bit. She also didn't torment me further. In class she was just as any student. By Thursday I thought that perhaps someone was simply suspicious of Darla. She was playing it cool so that whomever it was did not catch on. But she still wanted to use me for her twisted pleasure. The oral didn't last long. She came, but she was fast each time. When she showed up Friday, I was sure that was the case. She must be trying to play it down so that someone didn't catch on. But who? Who could know?

Was one of my other students the one who took the pictures last spring? I looked through my classes when I got home each night. I did have some students this year that I did last. But that was almost 20% of all of them. There was no way I could narrow anything down that way. And learning that depressed me. With Darla's growing collection of indecent pictures and video, I was firmly in her grasp. But if someone were suspicious, I needed to know. That person might ruin my career regardless what Darla does. They might also help. Why wouldn't Darla tell me. I figured I'd ask on Friday. This was something I needed to know.

After she came on Friday, before she could open the door, I asked, mekely, "Mistress?"

"Yes, bitch?", she said with a sneer. I was afraid to ask. She didn't seem to be taking any joy in my humiliation. It was still as though she were in a rush. Which I realized I should be thankful for, but this was too important.

"Mistress, is somebody on to you? Is that why you've been so fast, lately?"

She smiled. I hoped that was a good thing, but I presumed the worst. Her reply was in a more conversational tone than I had heard from her all week, "bitch, I've simply been testing you. And you're going to be punished."

She moved down and grabbed my chin as she finished speaking. I was suddenly intensly angry. How dare she let me think she, and through her I, was in danger of getting caught, of MY life getting ruined! How dare she keep information from me like that! Mostly, what the hell did I do wrong?! I did everything she said to, she's the one who told me to do less than usual! She could tell I was upset, I know, because she still held my chin, but pulled me too look into her eyes. Desperately I wanted to defy her. To slap her in her bitch mouth! She always calls me the bitch, but I wanted to show her that it was actually her!

"bitch, why did you leave the school each day?"

I was still angry. I was curious what she was leading to, but I had allowedmy anger to rouse. I replied flatly, "My work was done here."

"But I didn't give you permission, did I?", she said teasingly.

"I don't need permission to go home!", Even though I allowed my anger to show, my arms were still behind my back, my legs still spread out, and very little was hidden under my blue thong panties. I wasn't ready for it. I had almost gotten used to a lack of physical abuse. She slapped me hard, and I almost fell over. She slapped me again, on the other cheek, just as hard.

"I'm your Mistress, you little whore bitch.", she said evenly, letting it roll out of her mouth, "and I will ruin your life if you forget your place, do I make myself fucking clear?"

I realized I had moved my hands to my sides, to stay balanced. I slowly put them back behind my back, I swallowed my pride and anger, "Yes, Mistress. Perfectly clear."

I wanted to say 'fucking clear', but I knew she wouldn't let that slide. She placed a piece of paper on my head and left just like she did those other days. This time, though, she left the door ajar. Nobody could see in, but it obviously couldn't be locked. I read the note. It said, 'The camera's still rolling. If I see you move except to read this note for the next fifteen minutes, you will be even more severely punished. Bring the camera to that Mall I had you go to last weekend, on this Saturday night, but leave it in your car. You will be wearing ONLY a coat. You will not have your purse, and you will keep everything you bring with you in the coat, and that will be only your keys. You will get there at 9PM, one hour before the mall closes. You will go directly to the restrooms near the main entrance and wait in the third stall. If you're even one minute too late, you will be whipped on your both your ass and tits like I whipped your ass last week. If you solve the puzzles quickly enough, your punishment will be less severe.'

The note was written neatly, but something about the way she wrote it seemed different. I put the note back on my head, careful not to get punished more severely than what she was already going to do to me, I looked at the clock, slowly closed the door with my breasts, and waited. I could still feel eyes looking at me from behind. The fact that I heard movement out in the hallway made the wait horrible. I didn't shut the door, but I was ready to if I heard or saw anything that hinted someone would see me. When I finally got dressed and left, the building seemed emptier than usual.