Mistaken Identity?

[All characters in this fiction are above the age of eighteen].

It had seemed like a fun idea at the time - an extension of our games.

"You make such an adorable schoolgirl Pixie." Her smile pleased me. I liked her to be happy, so readily agreed to her fun suggestion that I should dress up in my old school uniform. I was rather proud of the fact that despite being in my early thirties, I could get into my old uniform.

There was something about stripping out of my adult clothes that also involved stripping away my adult identity, which made me almost gasp with arousal. It was, of course, easy for me. At four foot eight and with no boobs or curves, the only problem with the school uniform was that it fitted me too well; I looked too convincing. The idea that I was a thirty-three-year-old professor at the local university would have been greeted with laughter, I thought, as I looked at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair in pigtails, no make-up, a modest blouse, and short blue skirt with white edging; I had to agree with her, I looked at least cute.

She drove me into town, carefully stroking my leg whenever the car stopped at the lights. That made me damp. The "game" involved her dropping me off in town and me getting back on the bus during the school rush hour. But today she took me further than usual.

"Isn't this a bit close..." I began.

"Part of the fun Pixie, see you soon darling!"

I watched the car drive off and suddenly felt very vulnerable. I had a little kitty purse in pink, my school satchel and blazer, but no ID and no cards. My girlfriend was a purist. If I was going to play a schoolgirl, I would be like one. The only exception, thank goodness was my mobile - and then it hit me - I didn't have it. Fuck I thought, I'd left it ion the bed while I was looking at myself in the mirror.

I walked across the park to the bus stop which was occupied by a crowd of girls from the neighbouring sixth-form college. I stood there feeling suddenly very insignificant. Being small I managed to get onto the bus, but was crowded in by girls on all sides of me. The smell of teenage girls was overwhelming, a mix of cheap perfume, not so clean knickers and sweat. I found myself pressed against two girls. I couldn't turn, and at my size, I could not see ahead either. I felt claustrophobic.

Was it, I wondered? It was. There was a hand going under my skirt, it was fondling my arse, squeezing it. I felt it edge up, going underneath to grip my bare arse. The fingers were reaching down to the gusset of my knickers, pulling it aside to touch my cunt. I felt breathe on my neck, then heard a girl's voice:

"Slutty girl, just stand there, I can tell by your goo that you like it."

Was it one of the sixth formers, or one of the woman sitting behind me? I felt a finger press against my knickers, finding my pussy and pressing them into it. I was being fingered in public. This was not part of our plan. The more she pressed, the more I wanted to moan. I was suddenly glad that the bus was so crowded. Then her finger pushed under my knickers, touching my wetness. She turned her finger, just teasing between my inner lips,

"Now, slut, you will get off at the next bus stop with me. Do not turn round, do not scream - and do suck your cunt juice off my finger."

I did, as she put it under my nose. There was nail varnish on it.

The doors opened, I pushed my way out, she followed. I wanted to look round but dared not do so.

"Keep walking just in front of me, what are you called?"

"Pixie," I said, hesitantly.

"Small for eighteen - you are eighteen?"

"Yes Miss," I replied.

The voice was quite soothing, and almost familiar.

"Turn right here and stop at the third door."

I did. She got a key and opened the door. I tried to look at her but couldn't see her face.

"In."

The house was small, but perfectly kept, everything clean and in its place.

"Strip to your undies Pixie!"

I did as she said.

"No bra, but then you have no need with titlets that small," she giggled from behind me.

Her hands were on my face, and suddenly I could not see.

That was when I thought that however good this had seemed half an hour earlier, it was less so now. I was naked, except for a pair of white socks and knickers. Somehow, though, it did not feel threatening - until now. I felt her blindfold me. Everything was dark.

"On your back slut!"

I lay down.

I felt her thighs either side of my face. I could smell her cunt. She'd taken her knickers off. She was hairy, and wet and smelt of sex. She ground her cunt against my face. My tongue began to work automatically. She tasted tangy, her juices already thick. My tongue pressed between the folds, and I drank from her.

As she pressed into my face, I could feel her arousal, and my tongue sought out her clit and, finding it, pressed it upwards.

"Fuck! You little slut, yesses, fuck, do it, lick me you slut!"

I needed no encouragement.

I licked faster, feeling her grow wetter.

She rode my face faster and faster, and I could tell she was beginning to tense - then her girl goo exploded all over my face, drenching me. I heard her moan; she fell forward.

My face was suddenly cold. She had dismounted.

I felt her hands pull at the blindfold.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw her face for the first time.

"She will be here in a moment Pixie, kiss me!"

"Mel!" I squealed, seeing her best friend. "You are SO naughty!"

I did. That was how my girlfriend found us.

Oh my goodness, I thought, as a shiver ran through me. She looked less than pleased to see me naked with her best friend.

"Stand up!"

"Yes Miss," I said, my head low, looking at my feet.

"You are such a fucking slut. You know what you need to do Pixie, so do it!"

I looked up at her. She was right, of course. I walked to where she was sitting, still in her nurse's uniform, which somehow added to the tension and, I had to admit, the thrill; as I walked, I could feel my wetness dripping against my lips.

I stood next to her. I was about the same height as she was sitting down. I bent across her lap - her short dress had risen up, and her legs were bare. Unceremoniously, she hiked my skirt up. I could feel the cool air on my arse. She could surely smell me. Why did porn stories never mention the smell of your cunt when aroused?

"Owww!" I squealed as the first smack came down hard. I squealed louder as the second one hit my arse. Four more came down, making it burn.

"Now little one, shall we see?"

She parted my thighs and felt there.

"So wet, Pixie. Are you a slut Pixie?"

I knew what the answer was. My cunt gave the game away, and I blushed as I admitted I was a slut, HER slut. She rained down more smacks on my defenceless arse.

"Nice red arse, slut!"

I felt a finger slide between my lips.

"Wet slut Pixie, gets aroused by being spanked like a nighty little girl. You ARE mine Pixie. Understand?"

"Yes Miss."

I did, I really did.

Six more swift spanks had my little legs kicking.

"Up!"

I stood, my arse aching.

"May I, Miss?"

"You may."

I rubbed my sore arse.

"Now, slut, corner!"

I walked to the corner, pressing my nose against the wall. My red arse was on show.

"Pixie, I love you. But you will be good, won't you?"

"Yes Miss."

And I knew that by being good, I'd get the spanking I'd be denied if I was bad. Just shows where mad passionate intense love leads you. I love her so much.