Teaching Teacher

I make sure to pull her cheeks wide enough to stretch her asshole wide, pulling some of those fainter wrinkles out. I'm sure LeighAnne feels that. I shift my hands around so that I'm only using one hand to hold LeighAnne's cheeks wide. I hold my free hand up and wiggle my fingers. It's a silent cue for Sophie to pull a latex glove onto my hand for me. She does. LeighAnne's still staring straight ahead as I told her to, so she doesn't see what Sophie is doing. She's probably too busy telling herself, convincing herself, that I'm not looking shamelessly at her asshole now.

I don't need to bother with any lubricant. Sophie used plenty of it when she took LeighAnne's temperature, and there's still a glimmering coat of the slippery gel on LeighAnne's asshole. It's a thin coat, but it's enough to ease the way.

I put the tip of my finger lightly against LeighAnne's asshole. Her muscle instantly snaps to its full tightness. It clenches so tightly that I can feel her muscle straining to hold itself so tightly shut. "NOT MY ASS!" LeighAnne screeches out. It's the brassiest voice I've heard from her yet. "NO FUCK WAY IS ANYTHING GOING UP MY ASS! I TOLD YOU, THAT'S OFF LIMITS."

I shove roughly, more ramming my finger into her asshole.

"OW!!" LeighAnne cries out. "GET IT OUT OF MY ASS, NOW! I SAID NOW! OUT OF MY ASS! I WON'T DO THIS. MY ASS IS OFF LIMITS, DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME. GET IT THE FUCK OUT OF MY ASS, FUCKING NOW!"

LeighAnne sounds certain, her voice hard and firm. She sounds demanding, almost like me. She's also standing there, still leaning over the stool with her bottom towards me. I wonder if it's just like before, that her body won't move away no matter that she wants it to. j Or if maybe she's just too scared to move with my finger in her bottom.

"OH, OW! GET YOUR FUCKING FINGER OUT OF MY ASS NOW! I SAID NO. I TOLD YOU MY ASS WAS OFF LIMITS. GET IT THE FUCK OUT OF ME NOW!" LeighAnne screeches out.

I stand there and let her screech for a minute. Let her realize that her demanding bitchiness isn't doing a thing. I'm still standing here. She's still bending over. My finger is still fully inside her rectum. I still don't care if she likes it.

Finally, I get tired of listening to her demanding bitching. And it's not like I can whip her with my finger in her bottom. My hand is in the way! Instead, I just lightly press the pad of my finger downward against the inside of the wall of her rectum. That wall is just paper-thin. It does nothing to dull what I can feel beyond it. Where I'm putting that gentle pressure, it's the spongy walls of her pussy just beyond. I can feel a fiery hot heat burning through her walls. And I can feel millions of little sparks erupting randomly throughout those walls, shooting along the nerves powerfully enough to make those walls twitch.

The best part, for me, is that LeighAnne doesn't realize I can feel all of that. She's so hung up on the fact that I'm in her bottom, that she doesn't realize I can feel her pussy. Or that I have a clue how aroused that pussy is. I love it when toys don't think I could possibly know as much as I do.

I give my finger a very gentle, tender little wiggle. It massages the backside of her pussy. And there are just as many nerves there. Her pussy won't realize that I'm stroking the backside of those walls. Just that I'm teasing those walls.

LeighAnne shrieks out. It's loud and squeaky. As loud and needy as her lungs can make it. "Uh-EEEEE!" She shrieks. LeighAnne jumps, too. She literally jumps, her knees buckling for an instant, then her legs snapping hard and bringing her feet off the floor. Only her legs don't thrust her straight up. Instead, they thrust her hips up and forward. Her hands clamp onto the edge of the stool, gripping it in a grip tighter than any vise. As her hips thrust forward, her body shoves her shoulders forward as well.

I reach out with my hand, taking off her globes and letting her cheeks close around my other hand, and grab her hip. It keeps her from going too far forward. It lets me feel the power in her muscles as they thrust her forward.

Her knees buckle as she drops back onto her feet. Her feet slide back along the floor, her body dropping down until she's on her knees. Now her back is angled upward slightly, with her hands still on the stool. The stool is still on its legs, despite her thrusting almost knocking that over as well.

"OOH!" LeighAnne screeches out as she steadies on her knees. A hard, sharp, powerful tremor flows over her body. Then, just as suddenly as she jumped, LeighAnne's entire body goes loose and limp. Her hands even relax their grip on the stool. Her head falls forward, hanging, her eyes now staring at the floor.

LeighAnne stops screeching. Instead, she just breathes. But her breaths have a raspy note to them. They're fast, and they grow faster with every one. They're deep, sensual, and erotic. But they're hushed as well. Just deep "UH!s" as she breathes in, and then deep "HUH!s" as she breathes out. After that first tremor, her body stills. A light quivering takes hold and keeps her body vibrating, but it's not powerful or sharp. LeighAnne stays like that, her breaths steadily growing deeper and faster, but not louder. Maybe even a little more muted.

My finger can still feel the walls of the pussy it's stroking over. I can feel the twitches in it growing more powerful. Coming faster and closer together. Growing crisper as well. But I also feel all the tension gone from her muscles, her body now fully limp and relaxed. Even her asshole loosens up its hard grip on my finger and turns rubbery soft.

"You lying little bitch!" I scold LeighAnne sternly. "After all that bullying, bitchy, crying about it you made me listen to, and now I find out that you love it up your butt. Just like a cheap whore! You want it up your butt! Admit it, bitch!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" LeighAnne more breathes out in the deepest, almost manly deep, and raspiest of voices, "I love whatever your finger is doing up my butt, Ma'am! Please don't stop, Ma'am!"

"Oh, after all that bitching, you want me to give you the reward of an orgasm!"

"PLEASE!" LeighAnne blurts out. Her voice rises a little louder, and a lot more pleadingly desperate, but it's still that muted breathing of a voice. "Please don't stop, Ma'am! My pussy is throbbing so hard it hurts! Finish this! Finish ME!"

I stop. LeighAnne tense right back up. She cries out a long groan of abject frustration. She even tries to wiggle her hips against my finger and finish it herself. Isn't that so naughty? I pull my finger from her bottom, this time not trying to be either rough or gentle. She cries out another frustrated groan from that.

I grab LeighAnne's hair and move around to the front of her. I pull her head up, then back, as far as her neck will allow me to. Then I look down into her suddenly-glassy eyes. "In my Queendom, orgasms are rewards for cheap whores. Cheap whores have to behave to get rewards. You've been very naughty. You'll have to work long and hard to get any kind of a reward here, bitch."

I use her hair to pull her up to her feet. But I snap the command for her to get up at the same time so she'll know what I want. I don't want to just pull her hair out.

It takes LeighAnne a second to remember. But everything is new to her. Once she does, she quickly gets her hands behind her back. The light quiver still flows over her body, ebbing but very slowly.

I quickly lock a pair of handcuffs onto her narrow wrists, making sure that they're snug around them. I don't want her pulling her hands out of them. She's not going to be using them.

"I have just the lesson to teach you about humility. A good humbling should get all of that bitchiness out of your skanky butt for good, bitch."

Chapter 03: Humility

I go to the playroom. That way I will be out of LeighAnne's sight. I don't want her to see what I'm doing yet. I get one of the "penitent dresses" I keep tucked away in one of the drawers. They're simple dresses if they can even be called that.

They're burlap sacks. And yes, it wasn't so easy to find burlap sacks, but you can truly click up anything nowadays. They're cut open at both ends, turning them into a tube. They have a single strap of hemp rope threaded through holes in one side for a strap to hold it up. That's it. They're not so big either, leaving a good bit of the wearer's body exposed. Just not so much as to get anyone arrested.

I get a giant Sharpie marker. In huge, bold, black letters I write "I AM A BULLY" on the front and back of the sack. It turns the sack into a giant sign. Now I'm ready for LeighAnne.

I take the dress back out to the living room. LeighAnne sees it and looks at it with a disgusted eye. As if to say "do you actually expect me to wear that hideous thing?" I ignore her. Especially now that her hands are bound. I just pause in front of her. "Time to learn humility, bitch. Unless you'd prefer to suffer in the dungeon for a while, and then learn some humility. I promise, my whip will outlast your bottom." I remind LeighAnne of the price of disobedience, just in case the sharp sting still lancing into her bottom isn't.

I pull the dress over her head, slipping her head through the loop of rope too. The sack covers her, from barely above her breasts down to about mid-thigh. And it only covers that much of her because she's so short. The rope rises up the front of her chest, looping around the back of her neck, to hold the dress on.

LeighAnne looks as if she's about to cry when she sees what's written on the dress. I'll bet she's wondering if everyone else sees her as a bully. And nowadays, "bully" has become a very dirty word.

I clip a leather leash to her collar. She stiffens up as I do. But she still doesn't have the slightest idea what I have in mind for her. Just that it's going to be extremely humiliating. At least she should know that much if she's been listening to me.

"It's a good thing you're not a person," I tauntingly tell LeighAnne. "A person would be humiliated so badly she'd never dare show her face in public again. But you're not a person. You're just a cheap whore. A piece of property I own. Chattel, not a person. So esteem isn't an issue. Property is just a thing. And things don't have shame."

I start walking LeighAnne towards the door. Maybe she thinks I'm going to kick her out and make her go home in this dress or something. But I am leading her by the leash. "I think I'll go for a walk..." I muse to myself. I try hard not to let LeighAnne see me watching her, and she doesn't. But I do see the look of absolute horror come over her face. And I see the trembling coming back onto her body. "My new bitch needs a good walk anyway... I think I'll let the whole world see that this whore is just a bully..."

I live on Dauphin Street, downtown Mobile, Alabama. It's probably the street most heavily traveled on foot in town. It's the strip where most of the clubs are. And some restaurants. It's' about the only thing in Mobile that comes close to nightlife. And it's not close. But it keeps the street populated with people on foot. Certainly not packed. Not even that busy, really. But there are always people out and about on it.

"Oops, I forgot. I have to call Kayla! I promised!" I didn't promise. Kayla isn't expecting a call. And I'm not going to call her. It's just an excuse, a reason for me not to go out. "And you have homework to do, slave! Now I can't take my bitch for a walk!"

LeighAnne looks immediately very relieved. As if she'd just won a stay of execution. As if I just let her out of the most humiliating thing. The look on her face before told me that she was close to balking, and not letting me take her out like this. As if she were wondering just how bad the punishment would be for refusing. And weighing that against the chance of anyone who might know her seeing her.

"We could ask Lilly to take her out for a walk, Mistress," Sophie helpfully suggests. She knows that I wanted her to suggest it. It's a bit of theater for LeighAnne's sake.

"Oh, that's an idea!" I say excitedly. "I doubt Lilly is doing anything." Now I see that nervous look erupt back onto LeighAnne's face. I'm sure she's wondering who Lilly is. And where she's been. What Lilly might have seen. And who Lilly is that I will let Lilly take her for a walk. I'll bet in the back corner of her mind, she's wondering if I do let Lilly take her for a walk, will Lilly let her get away with a little more than I will. Because I haven't let LeighAnne get away with anything.

"Lilly..." I call out, "do you want to walk the bitch?"

Lilly comes eagerly trotting out from my bedroom. I have no doubt she was asleep in my bed. She's claimed it as her bed. I've decided she's a firm as I am, so there's no sense arguing with her.

Lilly is an American Bulldog, also known as a pit bull. She's five, in human years. That's about 35 in canine years. She's the most adorable thing, too. And there isn't a mean bone in her body. Lilly is nothing but a giant love sponge. She's black and white. She's a decent-sized dog, too. She stands about halfway up my thigh, but I'm short. So is LeighAnne.

Lilly knows the command "walk the bitch." It took Sophie two weeks to teach it to her. And that's two weeks building on all the other cutesy tricks Sophie taught her. Sophie is an animal lover. It's why I enrolled her in a vet tech training program for her college. And she loves her classes. She loves spending time with Lilly, too.

I've had Lilly for over a year now. Before that, Lilly belonged to a neighbor downstairs. He was rather old, 80-something, and Lilly was his companion. I'd look after Lilly while he made more and more frequent trips to the hospital. And then I inherited Lilly. Lilly seems rather pleased to be here. And Sophie set out to teach her all kinds of tricks. But that could be a story in and of itself.

Lilly trots up to me at the door. She looks up at LeighAnne, standing there on a leash in the sack. Lilly has absolutely no sense of shame, either. I drop LeighAnne's leash, letting the handle of it hang down. Lilly picks the handle up in her teeth. I should mention that Lilly is not wearing a collar. She never does. She's a dog! Collars are for slaves!

I open the door. Lilly turns her head to look up at LeighAnne. "GRR-OFF!" Lilly commands. I'm pretty sure that translates to "come, bitch." Lilly starts trotting out.

LeighAnne stands stunned and frozen. Her face blushes to a bright, hot red. It scrunches up, too. So much so that I see tears in the corners of her eyes. She trembles a little more. "No... Please..." She pleads under her breath.

Lilly doesn't care what LeighAnne says. Not that she understands it. Lilly just keeps trotting along into the hall. Lilly is also a very strong dog. She is a pit bull, and she has the muscles of it. I have no doubt that if Lilly wanted to, she could drag LeighAnne's limp body down the street by that leash. I have no doubt that Lilly sees burglars as chew bone deliveries, too.

Lilly trots along. She was told to walk the bitch, and that what Lilly is going to do. The leash pulls taut. Lilly trots. The hard iron collar pulls hard into LeighAnne's neck. LeighAnne stumbles forward. The leash loosens up. LeighAnne manages to stay on her feet. Lilly trots along as if she doesn't have a care in the world. The leash quickly goes taut again. This time LeighAnne starts following it. And she starts crying.

Not that LeighAnne could do much else. Her hands are still bound behind her back under the sack. She can't get them up to the collar to unhook the leash. And there's nothing she could do to discourage Lilly.

Lilly leads LeighAnne over to the elevator. Lilly lifts up on her hind paws and hits the glowing elevator call button. She gets back down. She keeps the leash held tightly in her jaw. The doors ding open. Lilly walks LeighAnne into the elevator. LeighAnne looks like she doesn't want to go. And Lilly isn't going for it. Lilly is taking her.

Lilly knows how to work the elevator. She knows the bottom button takes her to the floor with the door out. She knows the top button takes her back home. She paws the bottom button. Sophie taught her all of that, too.

My building doesn't have much of a ground-floor lobby. It's more like a closet with the elevator in it. The rest of the ground floor is taken up by businesses. Like a cafe and bodega. But we do have a doorman down there. Or a bouncer as I call Phillip. He's a great doorman. But mostly he's there to keep those who don't belong from wandering up to the apartments.

Phillip knows me well. He knows Lilly well, too. It took me some convincing, but by now Phillip knows that Lilly can go out by herself. It took me a few nice tips to convince him, too. It's even legal since Lilly is technically accompanied by a human. Even if the human is the one on the leash. There's a leash! Besides, it's after nine. By now the dog catcher is at home with a beer in his hand.

Phillip sees Lilly coming out of the elevator. "Hello, Lilly," He says to her, "Oh, you're taking a bully for a walk tonight are you?"

Lilly says a light "woof." It's her favorite word.

Phillip does the one thing Lilly can't manage with her paws. He opens the door and lets Lilly out onto Dauphin Street.

LeighAnne cringes hard and blushes even brighter. She cries softly from the shame. She hangs her head, staring down at her feet. It's all she can do to hide her face. And prays that no one will recognize her. I'll bet she can't believe I'd do this to her, either.

Lilly trots down to the end of the block. The leash leaves LeighAnne no choice but to keep pace with the casually trotting Lilly. LeighAnne keeps her head down, her hair hanging around the sides of her face and mostly hiding it from view. It's not long, only a few steps before someone notices LeighAnne. It's not as if women, wearing only a burlap sack and led down the street are an everyday occurrence. I probably don't do it more than once every month or two!

As soon as that first person notices LeighAnne and points her out, everyone starts gawking at her. There are loud and unkind comments about bullies. There are loud, and mocking comments about her. Mostly about her having no shame. And there are more than a couple of comments about how the "punishment" fits her crime of bullying. None know who sentenced her to such humiliation. None even know what she's done to be deemed a bully. Only that someone has, and whoever has is clearly teaching her a good lesson.

Passerbys laugh at her. Several take pictures. Most jeer at her for one reason or another. A few men comment that they're pretty sure LeighAnne doesn't have anything on under that bag. She doesn't even have shoes on.

It is definitely a once-in-a-lifetime scene for most, if not all, of those on the street. But I'm not actually breaking any laws. LeighAnne is covered at least as much as half of the ladies on the street. Except for her feet, but there's no law requiring shoes on a sidewalk. Nor are there any laws against wearing a leash. Or a humiliating sign. Or requiring dresses to be made of something nicer than burlap. Nor is there a law requiring anyone to show even a shred of pride. Or shame. I guess, if someone really wanted to make an issue, they could write me a ticket for not having Lilly on a leash, but even that would be dicey since she is kind of on a leash.

Lilly trots down to the corner. It takes her past a cafe and two little clubs, and the bodega. She gets to the end of the block, stops, and turns around. She pauses only for a few seconds to allow someone to pet her head and tell her that she's a good girl. Lilly seems to bring the affection out in people.

Then Lilly trots her way back to my building. Philip lets her back into the lobby. Lilly works the elevator herself, bringing LeighAnne back to my apartment. Lilly even knocks on the door with her paw to let me know she's back home. I let her in.