She-Male School: A Teacher Seduced


It was like she knew my real intentions, her smile so knowing, her eyes so smug (can eyes be smug?). "Well," she began before being interrupted by the intercom.

"Headmistress, your car is here," Amanda announced.

"Well, if that isn't perfect timing. I was building up the rising action in hopes of a riveting climax," she sighed, using the plot diagram of a short story to symbolize our conversation, before moving her legs off the desk and standing up.

"I have to get ready for class anyways," I shrugged, even as I wondered where she was going with so many odd references.

"We will continue this conversation later, Jasmine," she promised.

"I am not going anywhere," I joked, referring to our middle of nowhere location.

She smiled, " Good, because I want to FILL you in completely." After a moment as she slipped into her high heeled shoes, a different pair than last time I saw her and added, "With our full expectations of your role here in the school."

"I look forward to it," I replied, wanting to be a team player.

"I bet you are," she quipped ominously, sending a chill down my spine. She hugged me, definitely longer than social rules would dictate, her breath on my ear, "You and I are going to have so much fun."

Another chill tingled through me but this one went directly down below as I took her hot breath, soft tone, and earlier conversation to all add up to something more than just teacher colleagues. I replied, my voice shaky, attempting to just give the slightest subtle hint that I would be interested in crossing the line from colleagues to something more, "I am a team player, Alexis, and am willing to do ANYTHING to prove it."

As she moved away, she smiled, "You know the word anything has a pretty wide scope."

Like when I was with my ex-husband, once my pussy started burning my mind shifted from shy and full of trepidation to hungry and eager (my ex would call it submissive). No longer breaking eye contact, I agreed, "Yes, yes it does."

"We are going to get along famously," she replied, not seeming to miss my counter innuendo.

She gave my hand a squeeze and said, "We will continue this conversation, my dear."

"Again, I look forward to that day," I smiled back.

Once she left, I took a deep breath and wondered...what was I getting myself into?


I returned to my classroom with a few minutes to calm down before I had to teach creative writing. Each girl was to write a poem for class that they would read aloud. The idea was that the class was a comfortable and safe environment to present your writing. The first time there would be no commentary or discussion from the class just listening. In future weeks we would have different focuses on what was expected.

Creative writing was scheduled the same time as media studies and journalism and thus I got only some of my senior class while the rest of the class was filled with seniors from Ms. Angela's class. This was only my second class in creative writing as it occurred every second day as the last class of the day, while on the other days I had drama which was backed with home economics, thus I was still getting to know the students who were not in my home room. Because there were three classes offered at once, I only had twelve students which made the classroom more intimate for sharing.

Each student read their poem to the class and I was in awe of the breadth of talent these girls had. The girls used tone, they used metaphors and they wrote poems that were honest and raw. I was giddy with excitement of where I could take these girls as the year progressed.

Yet, it was Nicole's poem that had me intrigued, because even as she told me exactly what she was I didn't hear a word of the truth but instead heard words she didn't say.


What do you see?
Do you see the real me?
Perception is deception as the flickering light obscures the truth.

What do you want?
Do you like what I flaunt?
Underneath the exterior is a stunning interior that defies society's conformity.

What do you see?
Who do you want me to be?
I am man AND woman a blurred reality to Adam and Eve's simplicity.

What do you crave?
Are you mistress or slave?
Behind the power and control lies the submission we all dream to extoll.

What do you see?
A she or a he?
What you see is not what you get
You don't know the half of it yet
I can give and I can become a fog consumed between what's real and fake.
You can't see,
The real me,
I can be man
like the moon can be all or nothing but usually is somewhere in between....

I thought it was a cry of hope from a girl who was questioning her sexuality when in reality she was playing me like a fiddle, reeling me in with her words.

After all the girls presented their work, I asked them to hand in a hard copy of their poem, so I could assess their format and style, even though really it was so I could read Nicole's poem again and try to understand her heartfelt confession.

I considered telling Nicole if she needed to talk to someone, I was always available, but realized that offering such a thing was breaking the sanctuary of the creative writing classroom. The poets could write, share their words and not be judged. It was just a poem after all, yet it lingered with me all weekend.


The weekend was a blast as they had silly initiation activities with the freshman all Friday evening and Saturday. I won't get into all the events but, again in retrospect, there were so many clues that I was not at a normal school. Some of the games included:

On Friday a banana relay where each freshman had to walk, or waddle would be the better term, from one end of the soccer field to the other. Of course, it looked like they had small curved cocks. It was hilarious to watch.

On Saturday a fashion show where each of the freshman were dressed up as a man and they had a fashion show where the freshman hammed it up.

In total there were over a dozen fun team-building activities and the Saturday evening ended with a dance where each of the girls dressed up like princesses. The shift from boy to girl was stunning.

After a supper and dancing, there was the final initiation. Each freshman was given a glass of non-alcoholic bubbly just as a big screen popped up and Headmistress Alexis appeared on the screen.

Although Alexis could not be present, she Skyped from Washington where she was working with Senator Smith, to give a speech officially welcoming the freshman to the elite school. I noticed that this time it was Alexis who was quite flushed, but didn't put much thought into it at the time. In retrospect, her speech should have added pieces to an already big puzzle.

Sorry ladies I could not be there in person, but I am in Washington with Senator Smith word-smithing a bill for school funding, it is not riveting stuff but it can't all be glamorous. Anyway, without further adieu here is my welcome speech:

Young ladies of Chateau Johnson for Girls,
I hope each of you had a good first week and an enjoyable initiation. It is only through constant mingling with your peers that you will slowly come to accept who you are. Here we do not judge. Here we only help in building on your unlimited potential.

Being different isn't bad, it's good. Society has forever labelled us as outcasts as not equal. Yet, the reality is it is women like us that really rule this world. We allow men to live in their charade of power, but the truth is they bow down to us and are literally at our beck and call. Here we are one big family.

You were selected because you have the perfect mix of strengths and you will spend the next four years grooming those strengths until you graduate. Then you will be whatever you want to be. A lawyer, a doctor, a teacher, a politician, a fashion designer, an actress or whatever you dream to be. Our alumni are very loyal to the school and to you...our future...if you are loyal to us.

And where is Ms. Winston?

I realized she was speaking to me. I moved in view of the camera.

Oh there you are. You are one of us now too, Ms. Winston. So please join the freshman for our Chateau Johnson pledge. Repeat after me:

I did as suggested, honored to be included in such an elite circle.

I am now a sister.
A lifelong member of the Chateau Johnson sisterhood.
Sisterhood is family and family is sisterhood.
I will always protect my sisters, love my sisters and respect my sisters.
I will be proud of who I am, my differences and will ignore societies judgmental attitudes towards me.
I will always rise to any challenge and overcome any obstacle.
I will be an advocate for my sisters, the school, and others like us.
I am now a sister.
A sister of Chateau Johnson.

Girls you are all now forever members of one of the most powerful groups in the world. If you work hard, play even harder, you can achieve whatever you want. There are Chateau Johnson alumni in every major profession in the world in over 50 countries and Chateau Johnson alumni ALWAYS look after fellow alumni.

Now raise your glass for a toast to you. As of today you are forever Chateau Johnson ladies.

After a quick toast, Alexis finished her speech:

Have a good rest of the evening and a great first year here at Chateau Johnson for Girls and remember once a Chateau Johnson girl forever a Chateau Johnson girl.

She waved and signed off.

The dance continued for another hour before I noticed something that caught my attention. My fellow colleague Ms. Angela came out the bathroom red faced and her hair a mess. A moment later Nicole came out of the bathroom similarly red faced but her hair still perfectly in place.

Instantly a naughty thought popped into my head. Did Ms. Angela just have sex with Nicole, a student? It seemed unlikely, especially in such a public place, but yet the red cheeks and messed hair did imply something. I have never once seriously considered crossing the line with a student.

Sure there had been some very sexy girls in my classes, but other than brief thoughts while home alone with my toys it was nothing more than a harmless fantasy. I did have one student a couple of years ago, right after I got rid of my cheating bastard of a husband that proved very tempting.

He was sexy, rugged and domineering all things that turn me on. He flirted with me shamelessly and being single I suddenly felt eighteen again. The temptation, like Eve's apple was very appealing and I was both hungry and vulnerable, but I resisted the temptation, no matter how appetizing the forbidden fruit appeared.

Yet, I had only been here a few days and already I could feel my pussy begging for attention, the temptation of taking a bite out of the juicy, ripe apple becoming more and more tantalizing. The conversation with Alexis only intensified the hunger, the innuendos dripping with temptation.

Of course, I had been consumed with thoughts of sexual submission with Alexis, but after one fleeting moment of potentially seeing what may have been a lesbian rendezvous between a teacher and a student, had my mind reeling.

I spent over three hours a day teaching my students and noticing their legs clad in the most sensual pantyhose I had ever felt. The Wolford pantyhose literally seemed to shine and caused me to get distracted on numerous occasions already.

Nicole was sitting in the front row of my English class when her shoe hit the floor and like Pavlov's dog I instantly looked at her stocking-clad foot. Over the course of the past week, Nicole had on many occasions allowed her shoe to hit the ground or simply slid her feet out of her shoes (one day three inch heels, another day flats another day open toed two inch heels and sadly on Friday boots...don't get me wrong the boots were hot and really brought out the best of her but there was no foot glimpses).

I thought it was all coincidence, that Nicole had no idea what she was doing to me, but after seeing her leave the bathroom seconds after my colleague I began to wonder was I Pavlov's dog and she the sexy psychologist?

Curious, I walked over to Ms Angela who was getting a drink of punch which she downed completely. "Are the social events always this much fun?" I asked, trying to be casual.

She shrugged, oblivious to what I was thinking, "They tend to be pretty crazy usually."

"The girl's can just go and go," I said, adding, "I am not sure I can keep up." again, in retrospect my last two sentences were greatly ironic, but I did not know that yet.

She laughed not in fun, but in an odd resignation, "If you only knew the half of it."

Looking closer I noticed some white in her black as night hair. Oblivious to what it actually was, my mind still not putting the puzzle pieces together, I pointed out, "You got something in your hair."

Her face went flush again as she moved her hand to her hair and sighed. "I should probably go and get this out," she said and left me before I could ask any more questions.

I turned around, poured myself some punch and saw Nicole staring at me, a wide smile on her face. She lifted up her glass to me and after a slight nod she downed her drink.

The night ended shortly after and I went home horny as hell and slightly dazed.

On Friday evening, after the first couple of initiation activities were done I went home and wrote more on my new lesbian submission story about a teacher being seduced by her powerful principal. The story hit a road block when I tried to figure out how to make the seduction believable. By then though I was horny as hell and pulled out my wi-vibe and got myself off imagining what could have happened if Alexis would not have had to leave. I imagined her opening her legs and revealing her silk pantyhose were crotchless and her pussy was displayed perfectly. My orgasm came hard and fast as I replayed our conversation, the innuendos, and my own hopeful fantasy.

On Saturday night after everything I thought I saw, I again retired to my room horny and this time I went directly to my bedroom and toys. I put the wi-vibe in my pussy and opened my laptop, deciding to tease myself while I wrote. After ten minutes of starts and stops on my Alexis story, I gave up and started a story about a teacher being seduced by a student. The story flowed with ease as I created a vivid tale of a divorced teacher being pulled into the wonderful world of lesbian seduction by a student.

Closing my eyes, my story getting me revved up, I imagined being taken on my desk, a fantasy I had never made a reality; I imagined her under my desk as I taught, while she was licking my pussy; I imagined her sneaking into my room after curfew and making me her pet; lastly, I imagined her sharing me with the whole class as I was made to sexually pleasure each of my beautiful, young, just barely legal students. I came even harder than last night at the naughty thought of such a twisted submission.

On Sunday, I spent the day prepping for my next week's classes, had lunch with the other teachers (where I constantly wanted to ask Angela a question I couldn't get out of my mouth). I worked out in the gym, had a long bath, watched a movie and relaxed, purposely avoiding writing and getting myself horny again. Like always, once I came, I am ashamed of my naughty fantasies and my very unprofessional thoughts.

I checked my author e-mail account after supper, which I had not checked in a week and was surprised to have so many e-mails. My new story 'Finding Euphoria' had been released and was doing pretty well in the Literotica summer contest, it wouldn't win but it had lots of personal responses from females wanting to explore their own lesbian curiosity. I answered every e-mail as I usually try to do including giving advice on how to dress, answering questions about how to let someone know you were submissive. Rejecting offers to meet in person, taking suggestions for future stories, admitting I didn't plan a sequel to a story. Lastly, I occasionally gave advice to a few women who saw themselves in my main characters and were bi-curious and wanted guidance as they came to grips with their sexuality or feelings of submission. Yet, it wasn't till near the end of reading all the e-mails, when I was getting tired, that I was shocked awake, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on me.

From: MistressA
To: Jasmine Walker
You WOW me Silkstockinglover

Ms. Jasmine
I have read all your stories and had to write to you. Your underlying theme of submission is clearly a cry for help as you write your fantasies instead of living them.

You need a Mistress! You crave submission and the need to just let go and allow someone to guide you to real sexual enlightenment.

Thankfully, your princess in shiny pantyhose has cum (yes cum not come).

I expect you to respond to my e-mail instantly by replying instantly with three fantasies you have. I can only help you if I know you inside and out.

Now be a good girl and obey your new Mistress.

Mistress A

P.S.: Don't hesitate, don't consider the pros and cons of my offer...OBEY now.

I stared at the e-mail. I have had lots of aggressive presumptuous e-mails in my years of writing, but mostly by men. I had been asked to be a Mistress to submissive women and, to help guide them in their self-discovery. I have even helped men come to grips with their own curiosity, but this was new. I should have pressed delete and moved on, but instead I clicked reply.

I don't know why I clicked reply (well I was damn curious truth be told) but before I knew it I was responding.

From: Jasmine Walker
To: MistressA
Re: You WOW me Silkstockinglover

Miss A,
Thank you for the e-mail, which stories did you most enjoy?

I don't know why I am answering, but below are my three biggest fantasies:

1. I recently started a new job and although I know it is wrong, I have started to fantasize about my students...particularly one. I imagine her seducing me or blackmailing me to submit to her unconditionally...because I have fantasized for years of submitting to a woman but have never been able to cross that invisible line between fantasy and reality.

2. I have a new principal and she is easily one of the most beautiful, powerful women I have ever met. I was instantly smitten with her and have had many fantasies of being her submissive pet. Being taken in her office or licking her pussy under her desk as she meets with a student. The idea of doing things no one expects me to do is a major turn on, so is the risk that I could be caught.

3. Being the centerpiece of an orgy. It sounds nasty and it is I guess, but I have always wanted to be a part of a threesome or more some. Being ravished by cock after cock, or licked by tongue after tongue. Conversely, the idea of a glory hole and sucking cock after cock or a sorority party where I licked pussy after pussy is also a major turn-on.

Anyway, again I am not sure why I am answering this e-mail, but it was nice to just list my fantasies.


I clicked send before I had a chance to reconsider. I checked the remainder of my e-mails and was intrigued by another that requested I write a she-male story. I had never considered such a story even though I had written gay stories and a cross-dressing story.

I responded back that I was curious about the idea and asked for suggestions on what the plot would be. As I clicked send I noticed the e-mail ID was prettyandhung, which made me even more curious. Was she an actual she-male, I just assumed it was some guy with a she-male fantasy. I wished I would have asked, but figured if she-he(?) was serious they would respond back.

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