Detention

Her narrow thighs leave her furry pussy mound swelling prominently down. She has a very dense bush of deep, jet-black curls that look tangly and long. But they're well trimmed with neat lines at the tops and inside the creases of her thighs. At the bottom, the thick mat of fur flows down over her mound. It's jungle-dense, but it still doesn't manage to hide her mound. I can see a pair of narrow and long lips. On a mound puffy enough that it makes those lips look as if they're rising up her front, through her pubes when they're really just plump lips. Her lips don't come close to meeting. They're too narrow for that. But she doesn't have a slit between them. Instead, her deep-purple inner folds poke out well beyond the edges of her lips, filling all of the space between them, and forming a loose ridge that rises a small fraction of an inch into her fur.

Even with her blouse on, it's obvious that Felicia has a good feminine curve to her waist. And just as obvious that she has small but hard and pert, breasts. Small enough that they barely make a ripple in the front of her blouse. But it's a ripple that doesn't move, not even the smallest jiggle, no matter how active she gets. Plus, I've seen and touched those breasts countless times by now, and I know exactly how firm they are. And how well rounded. But that's not visible now.

I told her to wear a "short" blouse. And she's done so. The bottom hem of her blouse hangs just barely below her waistline. Barely enough to stay tucked into her skirt. I ordered that so that her blouse wouldn't hide any of her pubes. Or the lace garter.

Felicia is a fairly athletic woman, and her body looks it. She's pretty, but not movie-star pretty. It's more of a professional kind of pretty, like something you might expect from a stereotypical businesswoman who values her career over her looks. She wears little makeup. But there's no hiding her curviness. And now, there's no hiding the sexiness of her lean legs in the garter and stockings. Or the immodesty of her now bare pubes. Or the lewdness of her so prominent mound completely uninhibited between those narrow thighs.

I had Felicia dress this way for one reason. I'm playing to my audience. I can't imagine that Jacob and Chris have never had a fantasy about a sexy teacher. The slight strength in Felicia's face might not make her the prettiest of teachers, but her figure definitely does. The way those two are gawking at Felicia's body, a treat they didn't know was going to be offered to them, tells me I'm right. Both have had the fantasy about a "hot" teacher. And now they're seeing that hot teacher.

Felicia retakes her seat. She leans back in her chair. She grins from ear to ear to ear. Then, she slowly parts her legs, fully exposing the furry mound of her pussy in all of its shameless glory. Through her dense, jet black fur, I can see her slit and the edges of her folds peeking out. I know Janette, her face a mere foot or so from Felicia's pussy, can see it all, too. I'm less sure if the boys can see every little detail, but their eyes tell me they're trying hard to.

I give another firm tug on Janette's leash, jerking her head forward as the chain collar squeezes into her neck. She comes forward. She really doesn't have much choice about it. It's either move or choke. I pull her forward until her lips are flush against Felicia's furry pussy lips. "Eat your teacher, Dummy. No paws, just that long bitch's tongue!"

Janette reluctantly sticks her tongue out and puts the tip of it to Felicia's slit. Felicia's slit is already sopping wet, her honey, with its faint white tinge, covering her lips and sticking to her fur. I'm sure Janette is getting a good whiff of Felicia's feminine muskiness. And now, as her tongue touches the edges of those wrinkle folds, Janette is getting a good taste of it.

She wrinkles her nose up as she begins drawing the tip of her tongue along Felicia's wet slit. It takes Janette a couple of licks to work up the nerve to get past her distaste at having sex with another woman. As she does and remembers that she is in for a very painful paddling if Felicia doesn't cum, her tongue steadily begins licking Felicia's slit more eagerly.

After a few more seconds, her tongue has pressed into Felicia's slit. That's when I hear Felicia moan out a throaty breath. That's when I know that Janette's tongue has found Felicia's clit. I know that Dmitri has given Janette plenty of experience pleasing women. Just as I know that Janette finds it the most disgusting and unnatural of things to do. I'm sure Janette is feeling especially humiliated now, as she lowers herself to performing what she considers the most repugnant of sex acts for the sake of Tony's grade. And worse, she's doing it in front of an audience.

But after half a minute or so, Felicia is breathing out loud throaty moans that announce just how intense the pleasure she's getting is. We all watch the show. Janette obediently stays on all four paws, her blond hair almost hiding the sight of her tongue. We watch as Felicia's hands grip the armrests of her chair until her knuckles turn white.

Then we watch as her legs begin vibrating as her muscles stiffen up to their very tensest. We watch as Felicia's head lolls back, pressing against the back of her chair. As her neck muscles stiffen, even more, her head forces her shoulders off the chair, arching her chest out toward the audience. That pulls her blouse a little tighter around her. It's just enough for the gentle mounds of her breasts to press against the inside of it. Now the outline of her immodestly cut, and lacy, bra is visible through the fabric if you look closely. The nubs of her slightly narrow nipples straining hard against the bra are far more noticeable.

Slowly, but steadily, Felicia's trembling legs close. After a couple of minutes, her thighs are squishing hard against Janette's head, holding Janette's face to Felicia's pussy. Felicia's moans deepen, growing throatier as they grow louder. And far more urgent.

Felicia's hips start squirming. Her bottom grinds into the chair. Her tight thighs simply pull Janette's head along with her squirming hips. After maybe another minute, I see Felicia's feet kick up hard. They freeze, her legs straight and her knees locked, for a fraction of a second. Then her feet slam together as they fall. They land atop Janette's back, Felicia's ankles crossed. Instantly the stiffness returns to Felicia's legs. The tension forces Felicia's heels to dig into Janette's back. But it also holds Janette's mouth firmly against Felicia's pussy.

With about two minutes to go, Felicia starts losing control of herself. That's enough to tell me that Dmitri has taught Janette to eat pussy decently. Although one of my slaves could have pushed Felicia to where she is minutes less. Four minutes the last time I made a toy do it.

We all see Felicia's head start beating back against the chair. Thankfully it's a padded chair. At the same time, her hips start to rise off the seat. They don't get too far. Her vise-tight thighs refuse to release Janette's head, forcing Felicia's body to lift Janette. Her body doesn't have the strength to lift even half of Janette's weight in this position. Instead, it just tenses Felicia a little more.

I wait until nine minutes and fifty seconds have elapsed. The two boys are eagerly watching the show. I'm sure they're wondering if Felicia is going to go over the edge, and how good of a show it will make if they do. Emma and Kayla are watching fairly intently as well. I'm less sure of what those two are thinking. But I am sure neither has ever been with a woman before. They told me that as a condition of coming. But I didn't ask if either has ever been curious. Now I can see they are. Just not why.

I tap Felicia on the shoulder. It's a silent signal to her to cum. I thought about making Janette fail and endure the paddling, but I've decided not to. I can tell that it will humiliate her far more to make Felicia cum. It will be an irrefutable proof that Janette has been really eating Felicia, as would an eager lesbian, instead of just going through the motions of her extra credit.

Felicia freezes at the tap. She hangs froze for a fraction of a second. Then she collapses into the chair, her body falling limp. She doesn't stay limp. In the blink of an eye, her body snaps back to full tension. Then it's as if she's sitting in an electric chair. Her body snaps hard, thrashing wildly every which way. As it does, Felicia screams out the most satisfied of cries.

Felicia's legs stay tensed. It drags Janette around with Felicia's wild thrashes. And now Felicia's body is pulling so powerfully that she's moving Janette, forcing Janette's hands to scramble around to keep her up.

Felicia's orgasm has the chair sliding around, too. It goes on for close to two minutes. Only as Felicia's cries begin to ebb, do her legs loosen their grip enough that Janette is able to move her head back when I tug on her leash.

I leave Felicia sitting in her chair. She lies back, her body quivering lightly, her eyes closed. She pants for her breath. And now everyone has a good view of her sloppy wet pussy. I walk Janette, turning her around to face the class. It lets the entire class see Janette's face. To see the thick coat of creamy honey clinging to Janette's face, covering everything from Janette's nose down to the tip of her chin.

Chris starts the class by applauding. Janette cringes. Jacob, Paige, and Emma join in. Janette cringes more, trying to move her shoulders back as much as she can. The rest join in. "Now that's what I call hot!" Chris adds, "girl-on-girl!" Emma glares at him reproachfully and shakes her head.

Chapter 06: The Bottom Of The Class

I didn't hesitate to take the collar off Janette's while she was still on all fours. Nor did I hesitate to send her back to her desk with her face still covered in Felicia's aromatic honey. As she scurried back to her desk, blushing deeply and still trying to cover her body with her hands, I rather firmly told the class that it was time to get busy with the final lesson. "We've already wasted too much time this afternoon with Janette's, and only Janette's, constant need for extra credit."

All of them get the full fifteen minutes to do the final lesson. And only Janette has to do it naked. The assignment is simple. It's to write a 200-word essay entitled "my most private secret." Of course, the essay has to be grammatically correct, since this is an English class. And it must use gerunds and participles properly. More than that, each one of them has to be identified. Not only will significant points be lost for improprieties there, but also points will be deducted for basic grammar mistakes such as misplaced commas.

I time it precisely. At exactly fifteen minutes I call for everyone to turn their essays over. Then I start with Janette, telling the entire class that I might as well get the "most work" out of the way first. I summon Janette up to the front of the class, telling her to bring her essay up with her. I have Janette sit in the chair and wait silently as Felicia grades her essay. Felicia has instructions to find just enough errors for Janette to score a 78. It's exactly the score she needs to get. If she does the extra credit, then she'll just barely pass the detention. Otherwise, she won't.

Felicia sets the paper in front of me. It's scored a 78. Just as Felicia was told to do. I pick it up and glance over it. It takes me a minute to read it. To read the secret Janette revealed.

I sigh out. Then I point to the desk where the dice and the pink box are waiting. I ask Janette if she wants to do extra credit again, adding that she'll need all twenty points to pass detention. I'm really telling her that she doesn't have a choice. If she doesn't do the extra credit, Tony's grade will be stuck. I'm never going to tell her that her work isn't going to affect his grade at all. Nor does he need it.

Janette, her hand trembling nervous, reaches for the pink box and the now seven fates left in it. Again, I've switched the fates out so that all seven are a new horror for Janette to endure. I'm sure Janette is wondering what could possibly be left in that box. Just as I'm sure she still thinks there are seven possibilities in there. But she knows she has no choice. The fates are the only way to ensure the points she needs.

I have her read it aloud as she reads it herself again. She stands, facing the class, and unfolds the fate. "The bottom of the class." Janette reads the title of her fate, which tells her nothing about her fate.

"I will strip naked and give my clothes to the teacher. After I've completed my extra credit successfully, I will be given the chance to earn my clothes back, piece by piece. For each piece of clothing, I will be asked one question. If I answer it correctly, I get the piece back. If I do not, then that piece of clothing will be donated to the needy. I will not be offered a second chance to get any piece of clothing back, even if I have to walk out of here naked.

"I will be given a large enema-" Janette stops reading and starts crying. She trembles hard. She stands like that for a few seconds. It's all the time I allow her before scolding her to get on with reading the fate. "to fill my bottom completely. As I am given my enema, I will tell you exactly what is happening and how it feels. Once I am full, I will not have an accident. I will redo my essay. I will ask one of my smarter classmates to help me redo the essay. I will not hurry to redo my essay, no matter how uncomfortable my bottom becomes. I must score a 90 on my reworked essay. If I do not, the penalty is six strokes of the paddle, administered immediately. I will get three of them. My study partner will get three of them, or he/she may choose to have his/her three given to me instead. I will stand still, my bottom not moving at all, and silent for all of my spankings. If I do, I get my points. If I move my bottom or make a peep, I do not get my points.

"After all of that, I may win my clothes back. Once I have won or lost all of my clothes, I will dress. Then I will leave. I may not use a bathroom at the school."

With her fate read, Janette stands there silently sobbing. The tears run down her cheeks. I would never pass up the chance to torment a toy just a little more. "Janette, have you ever had an enema before?"

"No..." Janette squeaks out in a very nervous and hushed voice.

I reach into my over-sized purse and take out a disposable, syringe-type, enema. It has an eight-inch long, pencil-thick, pre-lubricated nozzle already attached to it. A plastic cap covers the nozzle. And it's already filled with 16 ounces of a clear yellow solution. The yellow is just food dye to remind me what's in it. This one is full of mineral oil. I set it on the desk.

Janette can't stop her eyes from looking it at. The syringe is as big as a bottle of water. The instant her eyes see how big it is, they dart away from it. And Janette starts trembling even harder. Another rivulet of tears rolls down her cheeks.

"Lean over the desk until just your hard nipples are touching it. Not the rest of your breasts, just your nipples." I order Janette. She's at the side of the desk, so as she leans over it, the class has a side-on view of her. "Now, turn your head to look at the class." Janette reluctantly turns her head to see the entire class staring at her as if they're about to see the unbelievable. "Now reach around your hips and pull those cheeks wide apart to offer your anus up for the enema."

Janette's hands start slowly. As they move towards her bottom, they steadily slow down. Finally, they reach her cheeks. She pulls them wide apart just as reluctantly.

She doesn't stretch them fully. It's still enough to bare all of the light swath of color around her little ring. But it's not enough to pull those prominent wrinkles flowing into the darkness taut. I scold her that this is her only warning, to spread her cheeks all the way. She pulls them wider, stretching out the smaller wrinkles atop her ring of muscle. It leaves only two, the most prominent wrinkles, folded up. One at the top, and one at the bottom, both almost perfectly aligned with her crack.

I have to remind her to narrate her enema. Janette's voice is hushed, laced with extreme embarrassment and just as much nervousness. "I am holding my cheeks apart," she says. I scold her for the briefness of her answer, telling her that she's to give a vivid description. And reminding her that she has to tell the class how it feels as well. "I'm spreading my cheeks to offer my anus to Miss Rodgers for the enema. I am very scared. And this is definitely the hardest, most degrading thing I've ever had to do."

I accept Janette's narration. I pick up the enema syringe and pop the cap off its nozzle. It's covered with a thin film of lubricating jelly. I touch the slippery, rounded tip of the nozzle to the ring of Janette's asshole. Instantly her ring snaps, cinching to its full tightness, reducing the blackness at its center to less than a pinpoint. I hold the tip against her ring, waiting for her narration.

"Miss Rodgers is holding the tip of it against my anus. I'm even more scared than I was a second ago. All I can think about is that thing being shoved up my butt. I'm worried that I won't be able to stand the enema."

I start pressing. The nozzle is just a plastic tube. It's rigid, but it's also flexible enough to curve along with Janette's bowels. I've picked a long one to reach to the very depths of her rectum. It will make sure she gets the full experience. It doesn't take long or much pressure. The tube is thin enough that its rounded tip easily presses against the pinpoint. As it does, it forces her muscle to stretch just enough for the tube to slip into the tensed ring.

"Oh..." Janette squeals. She pants a few nervous breaths. "Miss Rodgers is pushing the tube up my butt now!" Janette narrates, although her narration is more of a nervous whine than anything. "I feel it sliding through my hole into me! I don't want it up my butt! All I can think is 'get it out of me!' please!"

Janette squeals a couple of more "Oh!s" as I very slowly inch the tube deeper into her. She decides to appeal for sympathy. "It's still going up my butt! I can feel it going way too deep into me! It feels like it's all the way to my stomach now! I'm too scared! Get it out of me!"

I keep going. It takes me about twenty or thirty seconds, as slow as I'm going, to ease the nozzle fully into Janette's bottom.

"Now I can feel that enema pushing against my butt hole! The whole mile-long tube must be up my butt! It's too much!" Janette starts sobbing, her narration fading into the sobs.

I start pressing the plunger slowly. I'm going about as slow as I can.

"EE!" Janette screeches. "She's filling me! It's so cold! I hate this! Please, may I draw a different fate? Anything! Please, don't make me suffer this!"

I keep pushing the plunger. "Class, come up here one at a time and get a good look at Janette's bottom. I want you all to see that she's really getting the enema she's drawn. Come on."

Izzy leads the class. She barely glances at Janette's bottom. Jacob is right behind her. He knows better than to let Izzy see him looking for too long. But he still gets a decent glimpse of the white tube vanishing into Janette's bottom, the tight pink ring of her asshole clenched snugly around it. Then it's Paige's turn. She takes a few seconds to peek, but it's nothing Paige hasn't seen countless times before. Or endured countless times before.

Emma takes just a little longer to peek. As if she's making sure that the tube is really up Janette's butt. As if she doesn't believe that I could have gotten Janette to stand here and allow this. In public. Kayla takes about the same glance.