The Training of Pixie Pt. 01

Was this the right decision she mused? The slow train meandered its way through the beauty of the Welsh countryside, giving her time to think. Dame Suzie had been extremely keen that she should take what she had called "this unique opportunity", and as Chief Executive of one of the top Public School Education Trusts, she had been Cat's mentor since she had been "talent spotted" at university. Dame Suzie's faith in her had been repaid, and at thirty-three Cat was one of the youngest head teachers in the country. Her mentor had never let her down, and this was, she was assured her, THE mentoring she needed to take the next step up to become a Chief Executive herself. If it went well, Dame Suzie had implied that Cat might even be in line to become her deputy when Karen left in the summer. In any case, what else was Cat going to be doing with her Easter hols?

She settled back and looked through the brochure she had downloaded onto her I-Pad. Blaenau Ffestiniog College was set in the centre of the Welsh countryside and provided, the "perfect environment for an immersive experience". At the end of the week, it promised that its mentees would "have a perfect insider's understanding of the educational experience" as well as access to an "unrivalled network of influencers". It was no wonder it was so expensive, and even then, unless you had a recommendation from a senior "influencer" you had no chance of being accepted.

Dame Suzie had been delighted that Cat was interested, but had asked to talk with her at the end of the day over dinner. Cat had not dined with Dame Suzie since they had both been at Oxford, and she was delighted to accept the invitation; but she had wondered what was behind it?

They'd dined at their Club, The Oxford and Cambridge. Over a pre-dinner glass of wine, Dame Suzie had asked Cat why she thought that she was recommending the programme to her. Cat had been surprised, but answered that it was because she usually did as Dame Suzie recommended.

"Yes," Suzie had replied, smiling and taking a sip of the Chardonnay, "you were always happy to follow my advice, I recall you saying you regarded my words as your instructions."

Cat had blushed, as she often did when Dame Suzie's deep green-blue eyes gazed into hers. Even though they were no longer student and professor, Cat felt in awe of her mentor. Dame Suzie had charisma. Certain parts of the press always described her as "the charismatic, flame-haired CEO". Tall (and not just because to Cat, at four foot ten, everyone was tall), with a figure a model would have envied, Dame Suzie effortlessly dominated every environment she was in.

"Well," Cat recalled herself saying, "you are just the most incredible woman, Suzie, and you have been very good to me."

Suzie's response had, Cat recalled as she thought back, taken her by surprise.

"It's not just that, is it Cat?"

Cat had felt herself blush.

"I, I don't," she had started to say.

"You are even cuter when you blush and stammer Cat. Don't worry, I know you have always had a crush on me, and I am flattered. Why have you never gone further with it?"

Cat had not known what to say. Part of her wanted to earth to open and swallow her up, and part of her wanted to fling herself at Suzie and say: "at last, take me!" It was with some surprise she had heard Suzie more or less repeat her thoughts.

"I can see that you are both embarrassed and tempted, Cat. Why don't we discuss things over dinner, and then if things are good, you can come back to mine for the night."

Cat had nodded, her tongue suddenly outgrowing her mouth.

Cat remembered that she'd been in a bit of a daze over dinner. Was she really, finally, going to be with Suzie in the way she had always wanted?

"Let me tell you about the training programme Cat."

As Suzie ate, Cat followed suite in silence. The programme was for high-flyers only, and those who completed it successfully were guaranteed professional advancement of a kind open to very few. But there were two streams, and Cat would have to be allocated to one of them. First, however, Dame Suzie had explained, Cat had to understand the nature of the programme.

As one climbed the greasy pole in teaching, one got further and further away from the classroom and the experience of the school students. This often resulted in Heads turning into bureaucrats, preoccupied with key performance indicators and forgetting what the schools existed to do. The programme was designed to immerse participants in the "school student experience" to remind them of the realities of school life and give them insights denied to most adults. It would be followed by a week's holiday spent with your mentor, during which there would be a full debriefing.

"Do you understand what is meant by an 'immersive experience', Cat?"

Cat recalled her answer with pride:

"Does it mean we take on the role of school students?"

Dame Suzie's smile had pleased her.

"Yes, and in some sense more, Cat, you become a schoolgirl for the week. Your adult clothes are taken away, along with all the other accoutrements of adult life. You will have a simple mobile phone with the ability to phone and text only one person, your mentor. You will phone her every day at set times. How does that sound, Cat?'

Cat had hardly wanted to say how it sounded, as that might have meant confessing that she was extremely damp between her thighs, so she confined herself to smiling and saying she thought she'd manage.

Dame Suzie had smiled and said:

"In that case Cat, we shall have a dress-rehearsal tonight. Anticipating your acceptance, I have made suitable preparations."

That sent a pleasurable shiver down Cat's spine - and through her pussy, which tingled.

The rest of the meal passed in pleasant small talk, but Cat had known that both of them wanted to get on to what would follow.

Back at Dame Suzie's apartment in the Barbican, overlooking the lights of London, Suzie had taken charge.

"If you go into the second room on the right, strip, and I mean strip, watch, earrings, rings, everything must come off. That includes make-up. Dress in what is in there and come out."

It had been with a sense of excitement, but trepidation, that Cat had entered the bedroom. There, on the bed, was a school uniform, blazer, white blouse and striped tie, pleated kilt-style skirt, navy blue school knickers, white socks and flat Mary Janes. Swiftly using the remover to clean her face of make up, Cat took out her earrings and removed her rings and necklace before slipping the dress off her shoulders. She unfastened the padded bra, which was, truth be told more padding than bra, then slipped off her tights and knickers. She had noted, with a little embarrassment that the saddle was gooey with her juices.

As she pulled the navy blue knickers up, she was glad that she kept herself smooth "down there". They would have looked silly with pubic hair and have spoiled the effect. "No bra?" She'd thought there might be one under the blouse or skirt, but there wasn't. Well, with boobs her size, barely 30A on a good day, that didn't matter. She buttoned up her blouse and pulled the skirt on, before putting her socks and shoes on. She completed it with the tie, and then, as there was one, she tied her long hair back with a scrunchie. "There," she thought, "how's that?"

Looking in the mirror she saw a school girl. In fact she saw herself as she had been fifteen years and more ago. She stepped out to see what Dame Suzie thought. The smile on her face told her.

"Oh Cat, Cat, you look delicious. Who would think you were a head teacher now?"

Getting into the part, Cat replied:

"Thank you Miss, and no-one Miss."

"Well you are cuteness personified, but I think Cat is such a grown up name. What were you called at school?"

"Yes Miss, it is. Erm, at school I was called Pixie, little Pixie because of my size."

That had brought a smile to Suzie's face.

"How appropriate, well little Pixie it shall be. I shall enrol you under that name. Now Pixie, can you guess what I want you to do for me next?"

Blushing, Pixie, as Cat had already begun thinking of herself, had nodded:

"Please Miss, how can I please you best to thank you for all you do for me?"

"You are such a good girl, Pixie. Stand there and watch for a moment."

Pixie had watched, transfixed, as Suzie had unzipped her dress, revealing her 36D breasts firm in their black lacy bra; she could see her engorged nipples pressing the fabric. As she unhooked it and those magnificent tits dropped free, Pixie felt her knickers get wet. As Suzie lowered her black knickers, leaving her in just her black stockings and suspender belt, Pixie had been in seventh heaven

"I want your top off little Pixie."

Pixie undid the tie and blouse, taking them off.

"Oh you really ARE little, aren't you Pixie?"

Blushing, Pixie had concurred.

"You must have hated games and communal showers in your teens. Did they make fun of you, Pix?"

She had felt her school knickers get sticky, and admitted that yes, she had been mocked as "tiny tits" as her school friends had all sprouted boobs and she'd remained flat as a board.

"Between my legs, now and show me what you can do!"

Suzie leant back in the armchair, parting her legs -- a trimmed bush in Pixie's line of sight as she crawled toward her.

As she breathed in Suzie's scent, Pixie was seized with the urge to push her face into it, but she had resisted and taken the time to please her mentor. Relishing her first taste, and the thickness of Suzie's goo, Pixie had licked slowly upwards before wiggling her tongue downwards, right down, to that private puckered hole where so much of Suzie's juices were pooling. Licking them as she moaned and held her head steady, Pixie had circled her arsehole, loving the musty taste, before pushing her folded tongue against it -- pressing a little to see how Suzie liked it. She had liked it a lot, But not as much as when Pixie's lips brushed her clit, which was already half unhooded. Looking up into her eyes, Pixie had begun to suck it, slowly but firmly, letting her tongue give those feather-flicks her girlfriends had always enjoyed.

"Ohhh Pixie, Pixie, you are such a good little pussy girl aren't you?"

As a teacher, Pixie knew rhetorical questions needed no answers, and she had got on with eating her mentor out. Pushing two fingers between Suzie's lips as she licked her clit, Pixie felt her yield and then grip them as they pushed deeper. Taking her left hand, she had begun to probe Suzie's arsehole, lubricated as it was with girl goo and saliva. At that, Suzie had thrust Pixie's face into her pussy and ground it down on her fingers. When she came it had been with a shuddering orgasm which had drenched Pixie's face.

Pixie had been so pleased when Suzie told her she was the "best little pussy muncher she had ever known." Given Suzie's sexual appetite, that was some compliment.

Suzie had taken her to bed where, in her Pixie persona, Cat had pleased her twice more. Suzie told her she was not allowed to cum, because little girls had to learn discipline. It had been a mark of Cat's suitability for the programme that she had readily assented.

As she sat there, reflecting on that wonderful night, and Suzie's delight in her, Cat wondered at what point she needed to put herself back into Pixie mode? Just at that point the train began to slow. Finally, at last, bloody Festiniogg. She turned off the I-Pad, gathered her coat and beret from the seat next to her, along with her case (overhead racks were always a problem) and, once the train finally ground to a halt, pressed the button to exit.

The rush of fresh cool mountain air hit her. Glorious.

"Are you Pixie?"

The woman who was asking was dressed as a school matron.

"Yes Matron," Pixie replied.

"I am Winnie, good to meet you. We have all you will need at the College, so if you'd get in the back, I can take you."

As Pixie got in and the car pulled away, Cat knew that for the next couple of weeks, Pixie would be who she was.