Teaching Teacher

That leaves LeighAnne's calves straight and flush against the table's legs. It leaves her thighs angling inward sharply to her hips.

Now I push LeighAnne's shoulders down, pushing her forward until her chest is lying flat on the table. It's just wide enough that her head is resting on the table. I drape another rope over her back, threading the ends of it beneath her underarms. I pull it taut. Holding it snug, with no slack in it, I pull the free ends under the table, cross them, and tie them off to the legs just beside LeighAnne's ankles. That rope will hold her shoulders flat on the tabletop and keep her from rising up.

I'm pretty sure it's dawned on LeighAnne by now that her pussy is fully exposed and almost poking out between the tops of her wide-spread and taut thighs. I hope it's dawned on her that bound like this, she's living up to her name. Fuck hole. Her fuck hole is now bared for anyone to use, and there won't be a thing she can do about it. She can't move. Just stand there and allow her pussy to be used by whomever. For whatever. That I've made her into a fuck hole. That I've turned her into that hole in the wall I was comparing her to. And she has just as much to say about who uses her as the hole does. She won't even know who uses her.

It has definitely dawned on Mike. His eyes have shifted down to her pussy. To the sloppy-wet mound with a thick coat of fresh, wet honey. Mostly it's those plump purplish lips that stand out prominently and flaunting their softness that makes her pussy so inviting. I'll bet Mike is noticing that.

I tell Mike the "rules." "Fuck hole's" pussy is all his. He may do whatever he wishes with it, whenever he wishes, and as many times as he wishes. I don't care if he wears it out. However, her bottom is to be left unpenetrated. He's welcome to feel it and play with it. Just stay out of it.

And the hood is to stay on. I tell him that under the hood LeighAnne is blindfolded, gagged, and ear-plugged. That she has no idea where she is or who is around. That he's not to mess with any of that. Nor is to offer her anything, not even a sip of water. She's to be left there, ignored, and used. Not even a bathroom trip for her.

I tell him that Sophie will "retrieve" LeighAnne at exactly 6:00. That I will need the time to get her cleaned up for work tomorrow.

He assures me none of that will be a problem for him. He'll be ready when I send Sophie over for LeighAnne. "So she has no idea who you've given her to?" He asks.

"None. She's not even sure that I'm giving her to anyone."

Mike shakes his head but grins wide as he does. "So she could pass me in the lobby in the morning and have no idea that I'm the one who had her all night long?"

"Exactly. And that means that everyone she sees around here, the first thing she'll think is: was he the one? Or one of the ones? If you avail yourself of her sluttiness more than once, she won't even be sure that only man had her."

He laughs as I'm leaving.

I'm pretty sure he's not planning to keep LeighAnne's pussy waiting.

Chapter 06: Back To School

Sophie retrieved LeighAnne promptly at 6:00, as I'd promised. It was just after the "morning masturbation," the only time I usually allow Sophie and Paige to climax. I have a morning routine. After their daily chance to masturbate, under my supervision, and only when I deem their pussy to be too aroused for them to get through the day undistracted, it's time for their showers.

Clothes are not allowed before my slaves are clean. Thus, Sophie knew better than to ask for any clothes this morning when I sent her over to fetch LeighAnne. Not that Sophie minds it when I flaunt her body. She likes it. To her, it's as if I'm showing the world what Sophie's giving me. It made for a nice to Mike, too. He knows I'll never share Sophie. But I will flaunt her shamelessly.

LeighAnne, still in "sensory deprivation" didn't even know it was Sophie I sent for her. Only that she was being untied, and a minute later, that she was leashed and being led somewhere. For something. By someone. She followed obediently, but now it shows that's she tired. Not fully worn out, but as if Mike woke her a couple of times. As if she wasn't so comfortable sleeping over the table.

I'm sure she feels rather slutty and used, too. Sophie tells me that Mike said, "he fully enjoyed the fuck hole." I'm guessing that means he used it more than once. And liked her pussy. I was hoping he would. I was hoping that LeighAnne would wake up to a cock in her pussy. That should make her feel rather low, as if he, whoever he is, doesn't even know or care if she's awake. She's just a hole to cum into. It's the feeling I want her to have now. It should be thoroughly humiliating for her. And thus, thoroughly arousing.

I take the hood, blindfold, gag, and ear plus off of LeighAnne. But I leave the cuffs on her hands. I give her a few seconds, watching her blink her eyes against the lights. It doesn't take her long to figure out that she's back in my living room, just where she last was when she knew where she was. She quickly looks around, nervously, scanning to see who's here. Especially men. She thinks there must be at least one since she felt a cock in her pussy. And felt it cumming into her pussy. But there isn't. She can't know that the man is just across the hall.

I give LeighAnne to Sophie, telling Sophie to take this "filthy, cum-drenched, fuck hole and clean its skanky butt up." Sophie knows exactly what I want her to do. She leads LeighAnne to the bathroom to join her and Paige for their morning shower.

Only with LeighAnne's hands bound, Sophie will have to do everything for her. Shave her. Shampoo her hair. Wash her body. Douche her pussy out after that night. Even wipe her bottom for her when LeighAnne finally uses the toilet. Everything. I'm sure it's a humbling experience for her to have to depend on Sophie to do even that simple, but intimate, task for her.

Sophie brings her out in time for breakfast. I leave LeighAnne's hands locked, having Paige feed her. Another thing she's not allowed to for herself.

It's about 6:45 when LeighAnne finishes breakfast. I take her leash now. I walk her over to the stool beside my desk and sit her on it. I ask her plainly "did you cum last night, fuck hole?"

"Yes, Ma'am," LeighAnne shyly answers.

"How many times, bitch?"

"Seven, Ma'am," the shyness, and a heavy not of embarrassment ring in her voice.

I make her tell me what she knows of last night. She tells me that she was fucked soon after I tied her over the table. Then, nothing. Mike just left her there, as I'd asked him to. He didn't even bother to wipe her dripping pussy for her. He just walked away and left her bound there. She came three times before Mike finished.

She thinks she fell asleep. She doesn't remember much, except being utterly bored as she lies there with nothing to do but feel her pussy dripping. The next thing she remembers is waking up as a cock was thrusting hard into her pussy. She came four times. He left her there, dripping again, and completely ignored.

She thinks she drifted back off. Because the next thing she remembers is feeling that cock ramming hard into her pussy again. And this time it pounded her hard. She came three times. She dripped more of his cum. But then, not much later, she felt herself being untied. Then I took the blindfold off of her.

She tells me the only thing she knows about the man who fucked her is that he has a decent-sized cock. Or so it felt inside her. She felt his balls, large and furry, bumping against her a couple of times. She tells me she remembers feeling strong, manly hands on her body. On her hips and on her bottom.

I can see that she's dying to know who fucked her. But she's behaving and not asking me. I ask her if she wants to know how many men I "let use my fuck hole for a cum dumpster."

She tells me that she would like to know.

I laugh. "Who cares?"

I had been planning to have Paige relieve LeighAnne's pussy, but it sounds to me as if she had sufficient relief at Mike's hands. Or should I say at Mike's cock? Seven orgasms ought to be plenty for one night. So I don't.

I show her the essay she wrote in class yesterday, complete with her grade of C on it. And all of the big red marks. I tell her that kind of work is unacceptable from a teacher. She should know how to write a proper essay if she's going to be grading essays. Like Kayla's. No wonder she tried to give Kayla such a bad grade, LeighAnne doesn't know how to even write an essay!

I give her another assignment. This time it's to be a 1000 word essay. Handwritten. And it had better be done correctly, it will be strictly graded. The title is "My First Enema." She's to bring it to my apartment Friday afternoon directly from work. It will be graded. And then, LeighAnne will get her first enema so she can "fully compare" the reality of it to what she's imagined it will be like.

I don't tell her that might make for a good next essay from her. I really like the idea of giving the teacher homework, even if it isn't my teacher. But I do give her some advice. I tell her to forget about her shame and modesty. To be descriptive, and to be open in her essay. She'll get a very bad grade if she writes a less than fitting essay. Fitting for a worthless gutter fuck hole, that is. I tell her that her grade will determine the size of her enema. An A will earn her a half enema. A C a full enema. But an F will earn her a double enema. I assure her that she, or at least her disgusting bottom, would strongly prefer that she earns a good grade. A double enema is not going to be enjoyable for her. I just don't tell her how big a regular enema is. Or any enema.

LeighAnne cringes as she hears what's in store for her next visit here. But I see enough sheepish acceptance on her face that I'm confident she'll show up for it. I'll have to think up a few guests to invite over to watch it. That should humiliate her right into ecstasy.

I give her one more assignment, too. She's to write a very polite apology letter to Kayla and give it to Kayla in class today. It will explain to Kayla why LeighAnne wouldn't believe her essay. And apologize for allowing her personal opinions to influence her grading, instead of just grading Kayla's work. It had better be a very polite, humble, sincere, and honest apology since I will call Kayla later to see what LeighAnne had to say.

And since LeighAnne gave Kayla the bad grade in class, in front of Kayla's friends, LeighAnne will apologize to her in front of the entire class for "misgrading" Kayla's essay. I'll be asking Kayla if Kayla found LeighAnne's apology to be sufficient, too. LeighAnne can save her bottom another whipping by making sure Kayla finds her apology acceptable.

I can see the abject humiliation on LeighAnne's face as she thinks about having to do it. I'll bet it's getting LeighAnne's pussy wet again just thinking about the shame she'll endure. I know that LeighAnne is going to be masturbating after school again. I'll teach LeighAnne about those rules next time. She can have her relief now. Once she shows up for her enema, I'll know that I have her. That she accepts that she belongs to me.

There's one thing you won't see in my house. A clock. I find them too distracting for subs. So as I'm allowing LeighAnne to put her clothes back on, LeighAnne doesn't have any idea what time it is. I'm sure she's thinking that she'll head for her house and change. And then waste some time, or maybe get another hour or two of sleep, before heading for work.

She's going to be so surprised when she finally sees the time, certainly on the clock in her car if not sooner, and learns that it's seven am when I kick her out of my apartment. It leaves her just enough time to hurry to work. If she diverts, even to change clothes, she's going to miss her first class. Thus, she's going to be teaching today in the same clothes she wore yesterday. I'm pretty sure the 13-year-old girls in her classes will assume that their teacher had a fun night. 13-year-old can always assume the sluttiest answer is the right answer.

I don't have to Kayla that afternoon. She calls me the instant she's off the bus, and away from others who might hear the conversation.

"OMG, Pepper!" Kayla blurts out. "You had another talk with Ms. Cutler, didn't you? Tell me you did! She was like so a different person today! Like she apologized to me in front of everybody!"

Kayla tells me that LeighAnne apologized very politely. She told Kayla, and "the entire world" that she had made a mistake on Kayla's grade and was sorry for it. She even gave Kayla a nice apology letter. The letter, which studiously avoided any mention of anything that happened, simply told Kayla that when she was growing up both of her parents had jobs, and weren't home much. She hasn't heard any stories about traditional families, so she just assumed all families were like hers, or the ones she hears about. She never thought anyone could care so much for their child that they'd make such an effort. It's signed "LeighAnne Cutler," not "Ms. Cutler," too.

Kayla tries hard, mentioning that everyone assumes that LeighAnne had "a slutty night" since she was wearing the same clothes today. Kayla didn't tell anyone that she suspects that I might have had something to do with it. But she definitely wants all the details.

She does not get her wish. I refuse to speak to her about my "playtime," and I remind her that "includes any time I spend with your teacher if I spent any with her." I remind her that I did have to work yesterday. Kayla accepts that but still wonders what happened to change LeighAnne's demeanor. And she's sure I had something to do with it.

Then mom calls. "What did you do to that teacher?" She asks right away. "I know you too well to know you did have your fun with her."

Mom gets the details. And asks if I have a picture of LeighAnne wearing the bag for her walk. I send mom one of LeighAnne on the street, Lilly walking her, that Philip took for me.