Training Teacher Ch. 02

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I followed her to the dining room and saw Mistress sitting at a large table, eating. I went to sit down on one of the seven empty chairs, but she stopped me. "Your spot is over here, my pet."

She pointed beside her. Once I reached her, I again attempted to take a seat and was rebuffed for a second time.

"No, no, no, my pet. Pets don't eat at the table, they eat on the floor."

My cheeks went red with humiliation. I looked down, and then stared. There was a plate with sausage, eggs and toast on the hardwood floor. A glass of orange juice and some cutlery wrapped in linen had been set beside it. It was a nicely laid out table setting, except it was sitting directly on the floor.

When I froze in place, Constance asked, "Is there a problem, my pet?"

Mortified, insulted and enraged, I wanted to scream 'yes there is a fucking problem, a big fucking problem,' but instead I responded meekly like a good pet, "No problem, Mistress." I sat down cross-legged on the hardwood floor and began eating.

"Good," she purred. "I didn't think I would have discipline issues with you."

We ate in silence, shame burning through my entire being. Here I was, a mother of one, a respected teacher in the community, being treated like a household pet. Would the humiliation ever end? But at least I wasn't eating pet food, my breakfast was very good.

Once breakfast was done, Mistress Constance announced, "Well, we'd better get you to work, my pet."

I stood up and followed her outside to her vehicle. We drove in silence for a couple of minutes until Constance informed me, "My pet, just so you know, anyone you see wearing the same collar you have on is a sub of mine. Understand as well that as soon as they see you wearing the collar today, they will know you are now mine. Also, as the newest addition to my growing collection of subs, you are on the bottom of the totem pole. In other words, you are to obey any command any other sub of mine gives you, so long as it doesn't impact on your family or job. Is that understood?"

I had no response. I did understand, but this was getting way out of control. I attempted to reason with her. "Mistress, I do understand, but isn't there any way to keep this just between you and me?"

"Are you ashamed to be my pet?"

She hadn't asked it unkindly, and she didn't appear at impatient for an answer, so I took a few moments to think about the question. Yes, I was certainly ashamed, but not because I was her pet, it was because I was so weak. I was ashamed that I enjoyed my submission so much and that even now in this everyday situation I was already looking forward to the next time Mistress would demand something sexual of me. That said, I didn't want the whole world, or anyone at all for that matter, knowing what kind of deviant I was.

I tried to explain my feelings to her. "No, Mistress, I'm not ashamed of you. I believe the best word to describe what I feel for you is infatuation, and maybe even a bit worshipful. But I am ashamed... I'm ashamed of my weakness for submitting to you so easily, so I'm afraid for other people to know the truth."

Her reply was sweet and caring, a surprising shift from her usual up front and blunt approach to things. "Oh, is that it? I don't think you have cause for any worries on that count. The only people who will know have already submitted to me, my pet. They will know exactly what you're feeling today because they've all been exactly where you are right now. You will in fact find them to be extremely helpful in assisting you to come to grips with your new reality."

"New reality?" I murmured.

She smiled warmly, "Yes. Going forward, your life will never again be the same as it appeared when you awakened yesterday. Everything you thought you knew about yourself has vanished and been replaced by an entirely new reality. In this reality you need to accept your role as my submissive, my sub. A reality where you learn to accept that you no longer have control over certain portions of your life. The sooner you're able to accept that what you currently perceive as your shameful weakness is in fact a courageous surrender, the easier your training from lonely divorcee to eager submissive will become. You weren't a happy woman when I encountered you yesterday. You were lost and lonely and searching for that missing piece of life's puzzle. You just didn't know what that missing piece was. You were searching for something that only someone like I could give to you. You needed me, or someone like me. It's obvious that you desperately need to be told what to do, quite frankly even more so than any of my other subs. Your personality is almost totally submissive. Don't be ashamed of the fact, embrace it. Accept it."

I tried to process this lengthy assessment of my character. As much as I wanted to deny such an extreme assessment of who I was, I couldn't. Everything she said was true. As I was about to respond, we arrived in the staff parking lot. Anxiety washed over me as I worried who might see me getting out of her car.

Seeing my nervousness, she chuckled, "No one is going to see you leaving a person's vehicle and deduce that you're a cunt-licking sub who desperately needs her Mistress, my pet."

Of course, she was right, although her vivid description of me had me turning red again. The best way to hide this new truth was to act normal.

Her hand went under my dress. "You're pretty wet, my pet."

I blushed, knowing she was right.

Her finger slipped easily into my cunt and she finger-fucked me slowly. Smiling, she teased, "Aren't you the least bit curious to know who else has submitted to me?"

I moaned, "Yes, Mistress, I'm both curious and frightened."

Her fingers left my cunt and she licked off my juices. "I have to admit my pet, you're fucking delicious."

I couldn't believe how happy I felt at hearing such an absurd compliment. "Thank you, Mistress."

Breaking the brief moment of intimate sweetness, she abruptly asked me to leave. "Now get out of here, I have an appointment in twenty minutes."

I obeyed, getting out of the vehicle. She drove away, and I walked towards the school, no one else knowing of my inner turmoil or my sexual descent.

I kept my head down as best I could and made it to my classroom without encountering a single colleague. I prepared for my day and jumped like a guilty criminal when my friend Gwen came into my room. The first thing I noticed was that she didn't have a choker on her neck, and I gave a silent sigh of relief. She asked how my Peterson interview had gone and I replied it hadn't been at all as I expected, which was the understatement of the millennium. I mentioned Mrs. Peterson's promise that Devon's behaviour would improve, although not of course the circumstances of her making that promise. We then chatted briefly about trivial work crap and she left.

Until recess, the first period came and went without any drama. I was on recess supervision this week and could no longer avoid all the potential colleagues who might soon learn of my... what did Mistress call it... new reality.

I did supervision and was grateful that both of the other supervisors were men. I made it back to my class and led my students to the library for their weekly book reading. I had my students sit on the floor in the reader's corner like I usually did, and I sat down at the back so I could watch them all. They seldom misbehaved, but every once in a while...

I was chatting with one of my students when Mrs. Hamilton arrived to read. I didn't look up right away. She greeted the class. "Good morning, grade fours."

The class replied in attempted unison, "Good morning, Mrs. Hamilton."

I still hadn't really paid her much attention, distracted by a couple of students who hadn't yet settled down. "Today's story is about secrets."

Her deliberate hinting emphasis startled me. I looked up to our late forties librarian, and recognized the collar on her neck. I gazed into her eyes and she gave me an all too knowing smile. I quickly broke eye contact and began to hyperventilate. I attempted desperately to control my breathing while Mrs. Hamilton read the story.

I zoned out as she read, trying to wrap my head around the realization that our married, mother of six, librarian was one of Constance Peterson's subs. If Mary Hamilton, the jolly, outgoing, rather chubby British librarian was a sub, then anyone on our staff was a possibility. Each female staff member flashed through my head, each of them now a real possibility to be a lesbian submissive just like myself.

I was brought back to the present when I realized that Mary's tone was changing for certain words in the story. I began to pay more attention as it became clear she was attempting to give me a message, to tease me or test me; possibly both. As she continued to read the story, she continued to stress certain words like obey, secret, bad, surprised, sisters, ecstatic and soon. I took the coded message as a clear indication that Mary was thrilled that I'd joined this exclusive club... kind of a sisterhood perhaps... and that she planned to do something with me soon. I didn't think I was ready for that.

So as soon as the story was done, I immediately began ordering my students back to class, hoping to get out of the library without having to face a conversation with Mary. Alas, she made certain I didn't succeed. She instructed my students to sit back down so our librarian assistant could read a second story to them.

Mary cordially invited me into her office and I reluctantly and nervously followed her in. She closed the door and immediately began chattering excitedly. "I can't believe it was you. Mistress said she planned to add another sub to her group from this school, but I never considered you to be an option."

Much to my surprise, I got defensive, feeling insulted that she didn't think I was good enough for Constance. "And why wasn't I an option?" I asked frostily.

The librarian smiled and laughed genuinely. "Oh, don't take it personally, Hannah. I just thought you were too strong to be broken by her. But I guess if she can have Betty crawling around on the floor licking up all the cum after an eight-man gangbang, nobody is impossible."

"Eight-man gangbang? Principal Pierce?" I mumbled in complete disbelief.

"Oh yes. Betty once questioned Constance in front of a couple other subs and was punished by being gangbanged by some of the members of the college football team. She was allowed to wear a mask so the boys wouldn't know who they were coming all over and inside of. After all eight of them shot their loads, our dear Principal was ordered to clean the floor with her tongue."

I didn't say a word. If my mouth could drop to the floor like in those Roger Rabbit cartoons, mine certainly would have. Finally, I asked the question I was dreading, "How many others are there?"

"Here or total?"

"Both."

"At this school you're number five; in our school division there are at least another five; if you add all the others in the community, at least twenty-five or thirty."

The numbers hit through me like a tornado touching the surface after spinning for days. "Twenty-five or thirty," I muttered.

"Yep. But I'm thrilled she chose you."

"You are?"

"Yes, I've had a crush on you for a long time,"

"You have?" I questioned, in a haze of flattered confusion.

"Oh yes, but now isn't the time to get into that conversation. You should get back to your students, but we aren't done here, my dear."

I nodded in acknowledgement and returned to the library. Once back with my students, I cursed myself that I hadn't asked who the other two were. I made it to lunch, barely, my nerves near the brink of a complete Lindsay Lohan type of collapse.

I went to the cafeteria to grab some lunch. I checked slyly for any other collars, now really wanting to know. None of the cafeteria ladies were wearing the symbol of submission. I grabbed my lunch and returned to my classroom without any further incident. As I sat at my desk and ate, I couldn't decide which was more stressful: actually finding out who the other subs were, or the suspense of waiting to find out.

Just as I finished my lunch, I was paged to the office. I tossed my plate in the trash and headed to the office. I wasn't overly worried about seeing a collar in the office. Our secretary Alice was fifty-five and a sweet grandma who often baked cookies for the staff. Our Vice-principal was male, so he was safe. Lastly, although I now knew that Principal Pierce was a sub, she was always on supervision patrol at lunch, so it was very unlikely she'd be there. That said, my nerves nevertheless began to shake as I approached the office.

I walked in the door and let out a gasp. Our sweet-as-cotton-candy secretary was wearing the same declaration of obedience as I was. I couldn't even begin to fathom a situation transpiring where she would submit sexually to Mrs. Peterson. It was completely unfathomable. She greeted, in her usual sweet voice, "Hi Hannah, I heard you had joined our group."

"Alice? You?" I asked, unbelievingly.

She shrugged, "I really had no choice. None of us did."

Still in a state of shock, "How?"

"All in good time, my dear, all in good time," the collared secretary replied cheerfully. "Ms. Pierce will see you now."

I took a deep breath and walked into our ice queen of a principal's office and closed the door.

"I suggest you lock the door, Hannah," Ms. Pierce recommended.

Expecting the worst, I did as she suggested, and locked the door.

I turned around. Ms. Pierce was sitting at her desk, a devious smile on her face, "Well hi there, Hannah. How was last night?"

As expected, the telltale collar was around her neck. I looked down to avoid eye contact, but instead got another surprise. A pair of heels was protruding from beneath her desk. I returned my confused, stunned, nervous and uncomfortable gaze back up to her face. Then suddenly anger filled me when it occurred to me that she'd played a prominent part in yesterday's seduction. "You told her I wouldn't mind waiting until 7:30. You knew this was going to happen," I accused.

She shrugged, like it was no big deal, "Yes, I did, Hannah. It wasn't my idea, but when Mistress explained her plan to seduce you, I assisted as she requested."

"Why?"

"Oh, don't play the victim on me. You desperately needed it to happen."

"How could you possibly know that?" I asked, my anger bubbling to the surface.

"Am I wrong?"

"That's not the point," I replied angrily.

Ms. Pierce's tone shifted from conversational to authoritative, "Look Hannah, it no longer matters, does it? You, just like me, Alice, Mary and the dyke between my legs, are subs to Mistress Constance. How it happened doesn't matter. We are the chosen few."

I glared at her, my curiosity about who was under the desk beginning to nag at me. "You had no right."

"Hannah, this is getting old. I want to ask you one simple question. Would you go back in time eighteen hours if you could, and do anything differently? Anything at all?"

My rage began to simmer down. I considered her question and found I had mixed emotions. On the one hand, today so far had been the most stressful time in my life and I was an emotional mess... and it was only lunchtime. If I could go back to when my predictable life had made sense, it would be so much easier. Yet on the other hand, I had never felt so liberated and never felt so free as I had last night. Entrusting myself mind and body to someone was the freest I had ever felt, and I definitely wanted to experience that feeling again. Not to mention I'd never felt such sexual pleasure as I did last night and this morning.

Her moans were also distracting, and I couldn't help but find a growing part of me wishing I was the girl under the desk. I tried to erase the image from my head, but it kept re-emerging. I hated this bitch.

"I'll take your long silence as a 'no you wouldn't change yesterday'. Am I right?"

"Yes ma'am," I confirmed, defeated.

"Come here," she ordered.

I tentatively obeyed.

"Now just so you know, we don't usually have sex at school, but today is a special day. It isn't every day we get an addition into our special group."

I held my breath, oddly hoping she'd begin telling me what to do.

"On your knees, Hannah."

Remembering Mistress' instructions to obey every command from any collared woman, I obeyed, my pussy already beginning to leak.

"You want to please me, don't you?"

Although my mind wanted to yell 'no, I don't, you fucking bitch,' my body was in control and I heard myself almost beg, "Yes, Ms. Pierce."

"Yes what, Hannah?" she asked, definitely attempting to exert her power over me.

Frustrated, horny and surprisingly eager to please and obey my bitch of a principal, "Yes, I want to please you."

"How?"

Fuck, she really wanted to put me in my place. Frustrated and wanting to show a bit of a spine, I decided to answer boldly, "I want to crawl under your desk and replace the slut currently pleasing you."

Ms. Pierce smiled, obviously happy with my naughty and submissive answer. Wanting confirmation and using my own words, "So you are offering of your own free will to replace the slut between my legs."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ms. Pierce rolled her chair back and allowed the slut, as I'd called her, to crawl out from underneath her desk.

Who she was, her face glistening in cunt juice, was one final shocking surprise. I was face to face with my best friend for the past three years, my neighbour Amy. The one who'd kissed me last week. Her expression, like mine I am sure, was one of complete embarrassment. Her eyes seemed to be pleading an apology. I couldn't believe it. Amy the married mother of two, a four-year-old and an eighteen-month-old, was also a sub. It seemed so inconceivable I still didn't believe it, even though I was witnessing it.

Ms. Pierce, clearly amused by this revelation and my reaction to it, asked, "Are you going to get under there or what? Class begins in fifteen minutes."

I gave one last astounded look back at Amy, whose expression was unreadable, before I disappeared under my Principal's desk. She rolled her chair back and her pussy was in front of me. Much to my surprise, it was quite hairy, although I couldn't see that well under the desk. I leaned forward and began pleasuring my principal, the person who, before yesterday, had been number three on my most hated list, behind only my bastard of an ex-husband and Constance. Due to the abundance of hair surrounding her cunt, the pleasing was substantially more challenging than my first time yesterday licking Mistress Constance's shaved pussy. Oddly, her aroma was intoxicating, seeming to be held in by her pubic hair. Concerned about the time, I used my finger to fuck her as I attempted to lick her. Luckily, Amy had already gotten her very wet, and the double pleasure I was giving her had her moaning rather quickly; I knew when she squeezed her legs tightly against my head, she was close. I hooked my finger inside her cunt, searching for her G-spot. Although slightly elusive, once I found it, her legs pulled me in and she came all over my mouth. I continued to lap at her juices until the chair rolled away. I quickly crawled from underneath the desk and stood up, desperate to end this humiliation. I perused the room, but Amy was gone.

"Wow, for a rookie, you have great potential."

"Thanks, I guess," I replied, not sure whether that was necessarily a good thing.

"You'd better go clean up before you return to class."

She pointed to the private bathroom leading directly from her office. I washed up and was thankful that I wasn't much of a make-up person. I returned to Ms. Pierce's office.

"One last thing, Hannah."

I feared what else there could possibly be. "Yes?" I replied, my tone going for annoyed.