What I Wrote

"Thongs," he said. Holding the skirt high and looking at me. I just stood there feeling the cool air on my ass. "Tell me you are breaking the rules right now."

"I.....no really, I."

"Tell me. Say it."

"I'm.....breaking rules," it came out of me, my voice cracking.

"I should write you up for this shouldn't I? Three offences and one grade point off your total grade for the whole trimester. Isn't that the RULE? Bare Midriff AND thongs. That's two....."

This was getting serious.

"Your not going to??" I could barely speak. I caught sight of the clock, it was 3:50 now.

Silence.

My skirt was still in the air, being held up lightly. He was still looking at me.

"Don't they write you up in gym class??"

"I don't have gym."

He let the skirt drop. I let out a deep breath, I was having a hard time catching my breath. "Turn around Ms. Kitson."

I did. I was shy now, couldn't look at him, knowing what he had seen. My cheeks bright red, tears streaking my face. I was squeezing my legs together too. I felt wet between my legs. I just stood there looking at his shoes.

"What else? I wonder."

And I felt him step near me, tower over me. Too close. And take the edge of my top that lay right at my skirt, my cashmere sweater. It fit on me sort of loose, had a V down the front. He took the bottom of it in his hand and began to lift up, to expose my tummy. I took in my breath, what was he.....

"What, are you.....Mr. Ten........" as he continued to lift the sweater, with his firm hard grip.

I felt it rising up over my head and then pulling it back and down over the back of my head, leaving it on my arms, pulling it down so my arms were held together behind me, still in the sleeves. I didn't move as I faced him in just my bra. I had just let him do it this time.

All I had on facing him was my bra - a half cup, light pink, matching my panties. He was staring at me. Not my face, my chest. The line of my bra was just barely covering my nipples. He was eyeing me, up and down, neck to navel. My skirt was down around my legs hugging into my hips, but I was standing there with bare shoulders and bare tummy, just my bra, my narrow waist.

Our bras are supposed to cover our whole breasts. No half bras. I closed my eyes, my sight was blurry from tears. I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks.

"Three." He said. "Is that three Ms. Kitson? One grade point off."

"Please." I heard myself say. "Please......" It came out as a sob. "I'm sorry. I won't again. I'm not really breaking any rules."

I was looking up at him now, and could see his eyes on my breasts, "What size are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your cups, what size?"

"A...... ‘C.'"

I was watching his hands rise up and touch my shoulders, each hand on each shoulder. He was running his hand along the top of my shoulder and tracing my collar bone with his thumb, my white neck was exposed. I felt myself lift my chin as he touched my neck, touching his thumbs around the front of my neck.

"See how rules are a tool?"

Silence.

His voice softer now, "It's gone." I opened my eyes, and he was looking at the tops of my breasts, swelling out of my bra. One then the other. "From the story. What they wrote on you. It's not there."

I was remembering now, looking down at my breasts, feeling very exposed in that moment. I heard myself say, "It washed off after about two weeks." I didn't even feel like I was there just then.

"All of it?"

"A little mark is left, at the one side."

He physically turned me, one way and another, and there it was - just the trail of a ‘Y' at the side of my left breast. He could see it. "So it was true."

His hand was still on me and he let his fingers drift lower and touch the tops of my breasts. I instinctively lifted my arms, but they just bent at the elbow, reaching, but nothing else. They were held at my back, still inside my sweater. I stopped trying to move, looking up at him. "You shouldn't be doing this."

"The building is empty."

I looked at the window. He continued, reading my mind, "That's the side that faces the forest."

And I felt him touch me, with my closed eyes. This pressure. He was squeezing my breasts, soft, massaging me. Touching me. I simply stood there and let him. I leaned back against the wall. I felt his hands move away from me then. Was he stopping? And then Click! He clicked the little snap at the front between my two cups, this bra unhooked from the front.

I felt the fabric fall open, the silky, pink fabric parting. I turned my head to the side as my breasts fell free, my pink nipples exposed to Mr. Tendale, he was looking at them intently. Touching me, my bare skin. Doing whatever he wanted right now. They were still puffy, I was still developing, they were still growing. I felt myself getting wet from his gentle caress. My nipples were so sensitive. I could cum just from squeezing them. He didn't know that. I could feel my heart beating so hard, I couldn't breath. I thought I would pass out, and his warm hands on me, his breathing.

I felt his hands reach out and squeeze my bare breasts again, holding them in his hands, and then drifting down onto my tummy. Holding his thumbs over my navel. This reverence in his eyes. It was almost 4:00 now. He held out both hands, wrapping his big hands around my little waist. I watched the second hand move around its circle on the clock. I felt him caress my waist, holding me, tugging me away from the wall. Holding me by the narrowest part of my waist, bending me, pulling my tummy to him, looking down at me, standing close.

I looked at the clock then and up into his eyes, I tried to sound sweet, nice, tried to sound like a lover really, "I have to go." I could feel his warm breath on me. I was tired, I felt weak, spent.

He let go.

"I won't write you up. This time."

He gently, so gently clasped my bra back over my breasts. He reached back behind me and took my sweater, lifting it back over my head. Watching me, watching me. I noticed in that moment, the line of his cock in his pants. Oh my God. Mr. Tendale was hard, his cock was totally hard. I couldn't stop looking at it. He pulled my sweater back over my head and smoothed it over me. Squeezed my breasts through my sweater, taking his time, doing it slow, one last time. Backing away from me, walking to his desk, sitting down again.

"You can go."

I began to walk away.

"You haven't changed your mind, now?"

I took my notebook in my hand, standing at his desk. "No....." and then continued as I walked away, "Detention next Friday?"

"Yes."

"Goodnight."

****************

Nicole met me early on Saturday, came over to my house. "What happened? Tell me everything!"

"What?"

"Detention. It's been three of them now. Are you going to give in. What does he do? A whole hour."

"Longer sometimes. It's boring," I lied. "I just sit there and he grades papers. When he says, I can leave, I leave."

"Is he going to change his mind about this?"

"I think if I just do well, be my normal self. Then I'll get a ‘B' he can't give me lower than a ‘B."

"He can with all the detentions."

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. He's pretty weird. But......lets talk about something else. It's totally boring stuff. Schools out. Lets get a ride to the stores......I want some shoes."

I just totally lied to Nicole, my best friend. The lies were going the other direction now. This was my own thing. I was alone. I could make it stop, but it didn't seem right to me. I should go to the principal, but didn't really want to get Mr. Tendale in trouble. They probably wouldn't believe me. It was totally weird now to see him in class, and then one time he was walking by me in class and put his hand on my shoulder. Just like that. I froze, melted more like. It felt like .....like when I was in detention.

I only had him for the Tri - so I could get through this. It was only five more weeks.

**********************

But then I noticed something. Something that started to creep me out. Even more than standing against the wall and letting him feel me up, and say all that stuff he said to me, most of which I totally did not understand.

He was following me.

I would just catch him out of the corner of my eye. He knew my schedule, could have easily gotten it from the office. He knew I had Social in the morning at 9:05. That I would go in and out of 101A, and he knew where my locker was, the path I needed to walk from Social to my locker and then to Spanish, my second hour class, each morning. He knew when my lunch period was.

But he had classes too. How could he?? There was only like eight minutes between periods. I had a study hall in the afternoon three days a week. He had an hour break at the same time, cause then I started to notice what his schedule was. I needed to know where HE was. He posted his on the door, his was easy. This was crazy.

And today, there he was. Not close, but not far either. I just ignored him. He watching me from across a crowded hall full of us kids moving from class to locker to class. I was wearing a black skirt. Today was not a day I took English, it was just four days a week. So today I wore a skirt that fell just above my knees, and I had thongs, AND my top was this line right at the top of my skirt. Midriff. Fuck!!

I felt totally exposed. I could feel him looking at me. He was always checking me now. And I did, I changed the way I dressed because of it. But not on the day I didn't have English, cause I knew I wouldn't see him.

I started heading for my Spanish Class. He was behind me, I heard him calling, "Ms. Kitson. Ms. Kitson. Amy."

I turned. I was so scared, my eyes were wide. I was just trembling. I could barely speak. His class is like totally on the other side of school.

"Yes."

"About what we said. Remember?"

"Yes." I hugged my books to myself.

"You don't listen very well."

He took my arm and we began walking, "What are you going to do??"

He didn't say anything, I wanted to struggle to pull away, to scream, he had this tight grip and I just followed along. "I'm sorry. I didn't think......"

He pulled me into a teacher-student conference room, the ones that are also used for band practice rooms. "Look at you. Look at yourself. Amy." He stood me in front of a mirror that was on one wall in the room.

"You never listen do you. Everything is how you want. Think you can get away with everything. One. Your skirt is too short."

I tugged it lower. "It's at my knees." He turned me to him, standing close again, took the edge of my skirt at the top and tugged it into place. "One inch above your knees. See that. Do you see that?"

"Yes."

"Lift your skirt."

"You shouldn't be......" but I was lifting it. Yielding. Letting him. I took the fabric from each side, right at the hem and lifted it up high over my waist. Felt my bare thighs being exposed, the tiniest triangle patch covering my pussy, just these little strings of fabric arcing around my hips. "....doing this, you know."

I could feel his eyes burning into me, looking right at my puss.

"Turn around."

I turned, doing as he said.

"Keep your skirt up."

He took his hand and held it up at the back, and my ass was completely bare, the fabric of my thong wedged nice between my ass cheeks. I could feel the fabric of my panties soaking with cum. I was wet the moment he held the fabric of my skirt and tugged it up my waist to adjust me. My panties were pink, my favorite color, the lightest pink, with a ‘Hello Kitty' right in the crotch. I was still holding my skirt up.

"Thongs. That's two. This time it's serious." I hated the tone of his voice. I was tearing up again.

I was really nervous now. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What are you going to do?? Don't write this up. I just can't.....I'll rewrite that paper. I can't do this anymore......"

I let my skirt drop. "We'll just see, won't we."

Then he sat down, pushed a table back from himself.

"Come here."

I walked over to him and he took his hand and held it around my waist, like before, then squeezed me steady, tight, hard. Just above my hip bones. It hurt a little. I could feel his hands slip under my top touching bare skin.

"Bare midriff, Three, and....." He slid his hands up under my top and began to cup my breasts beneath my top.

I closed my eyes, he touched me, caressed me so gentle, so soft right over each breast. They were bare. His warm hands, skin to skin. I was so nervous. But it felt good, and in this silence, his hands were brushing over my nipples. I could feel them tighten, stick out straight. He was playing with them. I had a bra on that left my nipples bare.

"Worse than last time. Four." I felt him squeeze my nipples in his fingers, and this moan escaped my throat.

I could not control myself.

"What do you think I should do?" H

e continued to squeeze my nipples, to play with them in his fingers, rolling them. I was leaning against him. Oh god, my hands on his shoulders.

"Please," I was misty, sort of weeping.

"You think that works don't you. Just be a girl, a little girl. Cry. And everything gets better. That's what you think isn't it?"

"No. I.....you're upsetting me."

He was still touching me, cupping my breasts, I was leaning into his hands, letting him. He let go and brought his hands out from under my top. I was standing between his legs. I felt him hold on to my shoulders and pull, sort of pull me down. I was dizzy, felt my knees bending. "Lets see," he said. He was putting me on my knees between his legs. Pressing me to the floor.

I was kneeling in front of him, "Open my pants Amy." I looked at him, totally confused.

"What!"

"How you dress. What you write. You know what you are. So show me.....show me what a little slut you are."

I just sat there. He was holding me at the top of my head. I could see his cock forming this line in his pants, "Do it. Show me."

I reached my little hands up and unhooked his belt, he was holding his legs open, wide on each side of me. I unclasped his pants and unzipped him. He was hard, I could feel it as I worked with the fabric of his pants. I tugged his pants open, could see some of his cock through the fly of his boxers. The tangle of dark hair. I could smell him. He lifted himself a little and slid his pants and his underwear all the way down his legs, down to his ankles. He stepped out of one side. He was naked from the waist down. I was looking at the head of his cock, could see his balls hanging down between his legs. The hair on his thighs. His cock pointing up from between his shirt tails.

"Suck it, you little slut. Let me feel you. I've already seen you and read about you."

I was frozen. I didn't know what to do. This was not really happening. I had just come from my locker. I was supposed to be in Spanish right now. The door was locked. I saw him do it. I could scream.

"Just like the story."

He was pushing on my head now, tugging me toward his crotch. I had tears in my eyes again, my vision was all blurry. I opened my mouth and pressed the end of his cock into my mouth, felt that sensation of flesh filling my mouth. Of my lips touching hair, tickling my nose. Of a cock in my mouth. I closed my eyes, felt the tears cool on my hot cheeks. Remembering, that day, that day I sucked on cocks. How silly and funny it was. How I liked it, what it felt like then. But today. He held his hands over my head and pushed me down onto him, deep, too deep and I gagged a little. I felt the head of his cock touch the back of my throat.

I lifted up my head, looking up at him. He was curled around me, looking down at me. I looked up at him, pleading, "I don't want to.....please."

"Then I write you up. You're the slut. The slut wanna be. Get used to it. You like it, remember." And he pushed me back down on him. "Your choice."

At that point all resistance went out of me, I was utterly trapped. I bent over him again, opened my mouth and pressed my lips to his tip, rubbed my face on the tip of his cock let the little beads of pre-cum slide around my mouth, kissed the end, and felt him enter me, press into me, into my wet mouth.

I had a fleeting inspiration to bite him hard, but the firmness, its head, the soft flesh. The shock of hair at its base. A cock is just a cock. This was the sixth one I had ever put in my mouth. I was starting to go with it......but I hated him. What he was doing to me.I took my hand and wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, held him to my mouth. I did it so he couldn't shove me too deep again, like last time. He moaned when I did that.

"Mmmmm, your liking this aren't you."

I could feel my mouth firm around him, gripping him tightly, and then to rise and fall on the length of his cock began to stroke along his length with my mouth, these long swirls, lapping at his underside with my tongue. I could feel his cock head swell in my mouth, he was big. A lot bigger than the other five I had in my mouth. All cocks are different I remember thinking. I could feel him lifting his hips a little, meeting me in a rhythm with my own and it felt like he was fucking my mouth.

He was whispering to me, gently now, "Oh god, little girl. That feels good."

And it was weird hearing him. He became this disembodied thing. But he was talking to me like a woman, like I was his. A lover. Not a teacher. Everything disappeared. No one ever talked to me like that. He would coo out, "Where did you learn that? Oh god, so good." And he lay his hand on my head, played with my hair. Caressing me the way he did.

I could feel him rocking his hips, undulating against me, and I just held still a little and let him press his cock right into me, deeper than before. Like he was fucking my mouth. I let out a guttural tone, couldn't control myself. My body was escaping from me. I was disgusted with myself and I could hear him moaning as we sat in this little room. Saying all these beautiful things to me, being so nice to me. I was thinking to myself how I could NOT believe I was giving a teacher a blow job. It was just too unreal.

And then I felt his fingers pulling at me a little tighter, I could feel how aroused he was getting, the wild way he was gripping my hair and pulling me down onto him. I could feel him getting more and more aroused. Turning his head and looking up at the ceiling, taking these deep breaths. It hurt a little the way he was holding me now, but I let him and felt his cock sliding deep into my mouth. He was sliding almost his whole length into me, and I was having a hard time breathing. I just held on. Let him hold me tight and move my head up and down his cock, faster and faster. Just yielding, going with it. Being this fuck toy.

And I could feel myself getting so wet. My body was getting so turned on. My nipples ached. I was sitting down on the floor now flat, positioning my legs, opening them as wide as I could so my pussy sat right on the floor and I could sort of rock around and feel the cool floor press into my clit. Finding just the perfect spot and rocking myself right over my clit. God I was wet and I could feel myself squishing around down there. I moaned just from that, and his hands on me, moving me on his body.

And then his legs tensing around me, he was moaning and just going, "Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Fuck. Oh God yeah."

And moving me on him faster, and shaking his penis fast in my mouth, shaking. I closed tight around him, and held him there as this tension was building. I brought a hand up and squeezed his balls in my hand, felt the hair between his legs, he was opening his legs wider and pressing me down, holding me to him. His big hands on me. He felt like he was everywhere.

When......our moaning was together. I remember thinking at that moment how Fear and Pleasure are really the same thing. That I was sucking on this cock in school, how weird, when......