Punishing Pamela

by Reese Gabriel

  “You should be,” the girl agreed, touching the sharp tip to Pamela’s cheek.

  The teacher shivered at the cold touch. Her pulse had quickened; she was at Mandy’s mercy—and Erica’s. Slowly, the closed scissors slid across her cheek to her lips.

  “Open,” Mandy leered.

  Pamela parted her lips to receive the pointed tip.

  “Suck on it, Teach,” Mandy demanded, her blue eyes lit with a cruel delight.

  The shuddering, wide-eyed Pamela orally caressed the scissors, gently dabbing with her tongue and lips.

  “Harder.”

  She obeyed, taking it as deep as she dared. A line of terror and desire ran down through her body, through her breasts and to her cunt. She felt that her life hung in the balance. Like a cock, Pamela sucked the instrument, knowing at any minute it could wreak havoc on her helpless flesh.

  “Enough,” Erica commanded. “Cut off the bitch’s underwear.”

  Mandy’s lips curled in anticipation. Removing the scissor from the teacher’s mouth, she ran it down her chin, making her throw back her head to avoid being stabbed. For a split second she held it at the woman’s jugular, then began to trace a line down, just hard enough to prick the skin but not enough to make her bleed. Pamela’s throat tingled, her chest heaved. The blades, still closed, made their way to her left breast, pressing it dead center.

  Mandy watched the nipple surge to attention underneath the material. “You like that don’t you, doggie slut”

  “N -no,” she ventured, but when the point was pressed harder she reversed herself. “Yes, ma’am,” she cried, ashamed of herself. “I do.”

  “I thought so.” Mandy snipped the shoulder straps, one by one. Pamela felt her breasts spilling forward against the silk cups. A line of perspiration trickled down her forehead and over her lips. She licked at the salt, then bit her lower lip. Her teenage tormentor was pulling the right cup away, cutting a small circle in the center of the silk. When the cup snapped back there was an oval shaped hole, exposing Pamela’s nipple.

  She whimpered as the girl menaced the tiny, naked nub.

  “Did you enjoy sucking my boyfriend’s cock?” the girl asked softly, sweetly.

  “I—I can’t,” she stammered. “Don’t make me…”

  Mandy seized the teacher’s hair, pulling her head back, hard. “I asked you a question, doggie slut.”

  “Yes,” Pamela replied, the scissor at her throat once more. “I enjoyed…sucking him.”

  “Would you like him to fuck your pussy, too?”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Ohh, yes, ma’am.”

  Mandy released her, moving the scissor down to the teacher’s belly button. “I’ll bet you would, doggie slut. Why don’t you beg me to cut the panties off your cringing body and fuck you with a dildo?”

  “I—I beg you to…” Her voice trailed off into a frightened aroused gasp as Mandy slipped the scissors down under the waistband of her silk underwear.

  “Yes?”

  “C—cut my panties…and…fuck me…”

  “If you insist.” Licking her lips, Mandy made the first incision, a vertical cut across the front panel. Several more followed at various angles, until Pamela’s golden tuft was fully exposed.

  “A hairy pussy is disgusting,” Mandy told her, pushing the scissor just inside her opening. “From now on you’ll keep it shaved.”

  Pamela parted her legs to relieve the pressure. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mandy grabbed a handful of damp gold curls. Looking Pamela in the eye, she closed the scissors, making a clean snip over her mound. The teacher whimpered for mercy. It went on like this for several minutes, until Pamela’s pubis was roughly, if not closely denuded. At last Mandy held up her hand, the palm covered in sheared yellow fur.

  “Thank me for trimming your disgusting, hairy pussy, Teacher.”

  “Thank you,” Pamela gasped, grateful the girl hadn’t hurt her, “for trimming my disgusting, hairy pussy.”

  “Shave it by tomorrow,” Erica instructed, from her place of command.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “You got the scissors all yucky,” Mandy observed.

  Knowing what was expected, Pamela opened her mouth so that by the time they reached her lips, she was ready to clean the juices from the sharp blades. She trembled as she did so, stunned at how close to orgasm she now was.

  “Turn around,” said Mandy.

  Pamela did so, exposing her equally vulnerable backside.

  “You have a fat ass,” Mandy taunted. Pamela closed her eyes. It wasn’t objectively true, but the remark stung nonetheless.

  “I don’t know why Blake would want to fuck a fat old whore like you,” she pulled the waistband of the teacher’s panties out a good six inches.

  Pamela said nothing. The blade poked her briefly between her cheeks, startling her. Mandy was cutting a hole in the rear panel, to expose her buttocks.

  “That’s better,” the girl smacked her effectively naked ass.

  The blade ran up Pamela’s spine now, and stopped at the clasp of her bra. The scissors bore down hard on the connecting material, and in a few seconds the bra was history, the cups fluttering to the floor. Pamela shuddered. She was bare-breasted now, virtually naked.

  “Look at me,” Erica commanded.

  Pamela complied, careful to keep her hands on her head.

  “If you don’t want this to happen again, don’t wear bras or panties to school anymore. Your tits and cunt and ass are to be available under your clothes at all times. Is that understood?”

  Pamela’s senses reeled. The girl couldn’t possibly ask her to do such a thing.

  “Answer her,” Mandy rubbed the rounded handle of the scissors against Pamela’s clitoris. “Now.”

  Pamela, unable to resist, felt herself melting into forced orgasm. “Yes, Ma’am,” she moaned. “I understand.”

  “Are you coming? How dare you!” Erica snarled.

  “She did come,” Mandy confirmed, removing the source of stimulation. “She’s a very bad girl.”

  “Get over here and bend over the desk,” Erica said crossly, “ass in the air.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Mandy, get that yardstick from the corner.”

  Pamela laid her head on the center of the desktop, her hands still on her head. The surface was cool and liquid smooth on her cheek and squashed breasts. Despite the orgasm, Pamela was still aroused, more than she’d been in years. She needed to be fucked. Badly.

  “You must be punished, teacher.” Mandy tapped Pamela’s ass and thighs with the wooden device. “For wearing underwear. Doggie sluts don’t get to have nice bras and panties, do they?”

  Pamela whimpered her submission. “No, Ma’am.”

  “Bad teacher!” Mandy leveled the thin, cruel strip of wood, laying a line of fire over her delicate, round cheeks.

  “Nnn,” exhaled the teacher as the yardstick bit down on her flesh.

  “Again,” said Erica.

  The second blow was harder than the first, and lower down, across the backs of Pamela’s thighs. She cried out this time, her voice a piteous yelp.

  “Be quiet,” Mandy hit her again, “or we’ll have to gag your nasty mouth with something filthy.”

  “. . . like Mandy’s panties,” teased the still seated Erica. “She’s too stupid to wear pads, aren’t you, Mandy?”

  The yardstick slammed home; Pamela grunted, swallowing her pain as best she could.

  “That’s not very true, Erica,” pouted Mandy, taking out her frustration on the helpless teacher with another solid blow.

  “No more,” Pamela begged, her body writhing and twitching uncontrollably. “Please; I won’t wear underwear again, I promise.”

  Mandy leaned over the desk, raking her nails down the teacher’s back—just hard enough to make her cringe. “You better not,” she nibbled at her earlobe, “or the next time it’ll be the dress I cut off your doggie slut body.”

  “Make her come again,”
Erica coached.

  Pamela moaned as Mandy snaked a finger into her vacant, sopping wet sex. Humiliated, she began to buck against the invading digit.

  “Beg for it,” ordered Mandy. “Beg for an orgasm.”

  “I need to come,” Pamela confessed. “Please, let me come.”

  “Do it then! Come on my finger!”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Ma’am.”

  The climax was explosive and lengthy. Pamela was transported from her humble office into some higher orbit, for the moment forgetting her torments and woes. It was like the old days, back when she could be made to explode at the merest touch or glance, back when she was whore and slave, a creature of a different race, scarcely human, and yet very much female.

  She was still subsiding when Erica broke into the void. “Come on, Mandy; I’m bored. Let’s get out of here.”

  Mandy wiped her soiled hand on Pamela’s hair. “We’ll be seeing you later, Teach.”

  Pamela remained prostrate over her desk for several minutes after the girls had left. She could scarce believe it had really happened—that a pair of teenage girls had been able to so thoroughly dominate her. Stripping her of clothes and dignity, even her sexual privacy. Her legs were shaky as she rose. Her thighs were drenched, and her hair was matted with come. She had no underwear and her nipples were throbbing. How would she get through the rest of the day like this, let alone the rest of the year?

  The knock on the door roused her from her self-pity. “Just a minute,” she called out as nonchalantly as possible. Desperately, she grabbed at the wet wipes on her desk, cleaning herself off as best she could. The jumper and T-shirt slipped back over her head easily, though she felt thoroughly naked beneath the cotton material. Grabbing for her sandals, she ran to the door, donning them on the way.

  “Sorry,” she blurted, opening it wide. “I was in the middle of grading some…”

  It was Tom, frowning heavily. The sight of him, so handsome and so obviously concerned for her well being caused her to lose her train of thought for a moment.

  “…exams,” she finished meekly.

  He looked her up and down now, worried, not judgmental. “Pamela, you and I need to talk.”

  “No,” she countered impulsively, “we need to kiss.”

  Her lips were on his, her sensitized sex-soaked body clinging to his, hard and hot. She needed him bad. Right here, in her office, on her couch, her desk, or maybe even the floor.

  Tom’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t push her away. It was her hands, reaching behind his back that closed her own door. “Take me,” she whispered, her tongue at his ear, wetly nibbling.

  The muscular young principal helped her wrap her legs round his waist. No words were exchanged as he backed her up to the desk, the same one she’d just been beaten over. This time it was her ass pressed down on the cool surface and not her tits and cunt. If he was surprised by the lack of panties under her raised dress, he made no comment. Together their hands worked at the opening of his trousers. The man’s cock was large and healthy looking. She slipped it missile-like into her waiting silo, hot and ready. Their clothes still in place, they slammed into one another, a collision of sheer lust. Tom shuddered, his hands possessive on the teacher’s buttocks. She bit into his shoulder, tasting the polyester of his suit jacket. They both knew it wouldn’t be long, a few strokes more and…

  Climax, for both of them, incredible and together and with almost no preamble. She breathed his name hotly while he grunted hers. His emission poured into her, spurt after spurt. Her nipples burned through the jumper, pressing his strong chest. Pamela wanted more time, wanted to be naked and at the man’s mercy, over his lap or on the floor at his feet. She feared she would want that always now, that she would never be able to accept equality again. It was as if she were Lorenzo’s slave bitch all over, only now it was worse because she was older and her imagination was that much more on fire.

  “This…isn’t…” Tom couldn’t finish the sentence. She knew as he pulled out of her that he hadn’t intended to use her, that this was unprecedented; he was a gentleman and it was her honor he cared about and her well being, not the ramifications for his own job.

  “Tom,” she clutched at him, “it’s okay.”

  “No.” He shook his head, burying the cock back in his trousers. “Please, don’t say anything.”

  She let him go; another slam of the door, another perfunctory having of her sex, with her left alone, subdued, challenged and … changed. Some whore she was, she laughed to herself—becoming emotionally overwrought with every encounter. Worse still, what kind of teacher was she, fucking students and administration alike.

  Pamela checked the clock. Time to get ready for senior seminar. No doubt it would be an interesting class today. The first thing she needed to do was finish grading the midterm exams. The task would be a bit easier now, given the four automatic ‘A’s she’d be issuing.

  She was just about to sit in her chair when she saw the vibrator. It was small and silver, the battery operated kind. A remote control type, though there was no unit. Erica or Mandy must have left it. There was a note, which indicated she was to put the device inside herself before class.

  A dark chill passed down the teacher’s spine as she imagined herself in front of a roomful of seniors, her pussy invaded by a buzzing bullet, the controls to which, she was quite sure would lie in Erica’s hands or one of the others.

  Sure enough, no sooner did she walk into the classroom a short while later than she saw the two boys in the back of the room, Erica between them. She gave a wink, holding up the remote switch to the tiny device lodged deeply between her legs.

  “Hi, Teacher.” This from Mandy, in the front row. Pamela swallowed hard as the girl spread her legs, revealing a bare, yellow haired cunt under her navy blue skirt, evident to the teacher alone. “Ready for our lesson?”

  Pamela’s knees nearly gave out. “Yes,” she replied, biting her lip as Erica turned the vibrator on. “Yes, of course.”

  The next forty-five minutes were sheer torture as Erica kept her in a constant state of arousal, forcing her to lecture stoically all the while she was burning to tear into her crotch, to open herself for sex, at the hands of Blake, Trevor or any of the other eighteen-year-old boys in the class.

  Seeing Blake and Trevor blowing kisses and surreptitiously caress themselves from the back row was no help either. Nor was the sight of Mandy’s blatantly spread crotch, dripping with honey.

  “So you think Romeo and Juliet were sexually active?” Erica interrupted at one point, turning the device on to high.

  “We don’t know, but from the play, we have to assume so,” Pamela gasped, leaning against the blackboard, trying to keep her eyes glued on the back wall.

  The orgasm came like a roiling wave. Pamela was helpless to stop it, unable even to react to its effects. She only prayed the dripping juices would not show.

  “Did Romeo have a big dick, then?” chirped Mandy, drawing horrified reactions from her classmates, those uninitiated into their little game.

  “Teacher, did you hear what she said?” exclaimed Randy Middleton, a gorgeous basketball player whom Pamela would like to be with right now, spreading for his huge cock, her bare ass on the linoleum, cushioning his studly body.

  “It’s…it’s all right,” she offered lamely, not daring to anger the bratty little Mandy or her friends. “She’s just…expressing herself.”

  Erica smiled smugly, making her come again.

  “Are you okay, Miss Hayes?” Rita Clark wanted to know.

  “I’m fine,” she forced a smile, continuing with her lecture. Pamela was terrified she’d reveal herself, or be forced to run from the classroom screaming like a banshee. When the period bell finally rang, she was ready to fall to her knees in thanksgiving. But there was to be more, much more.

  “Close the door,” Erica had told Trevor after the others had left. It was down to the four students from hell and Pamela herself. “Over the desk, face down
” commanded Erica of the teacher. Blake and Trevor took turns with her, mounting the teacher’s prone body, quickly and impersonally ejaculating inside her available hole, having first removed the bullet shaped vibrator.

  The two girls, sitting side by side, their hands in one another’s laps did little more than watch. Pamela had noticed a subtle shift in the group’s interaction; the two athletes seemed bolder now, the girls more passive in their presence.

  “Let’s go,” said Blake, snapping his fingers for Mandy when they were done.

  Mandy jumped obediently to her feet, Erica in tow. The girls blew their teacher a scorching pair of kisses on their way out.

  “Sorry,” said Blake, noting that Pamela had been left hanging, her satisfaction just out of reach. “Better luck next time.”

  “Wear something tight tomorrow,” Trevor commanded, popping his head back through the doorway.

  It was then she’d noticed how wet she was. The sex juices had soaked through her jumper. Would she be able to get cleaned up in time for her next class?

  ***

  Five hours later, after leading after school English club and attending a mandatory evening parent’s meeting, a very drained and exhausted Pamela Haley found herself driving home. Her thighs were still sticking together and she was still hopelessly soaked underneath her dress. She only hoped no one had noticed the state she was in; flustered and aroused and ready to fuck anything that moved.

  She’d been lucky to make it through the day. Thank God Tom had been too busy with the superintendent all afternoon to pay her any attention. The harder she’d tried, it seemed, not to think about what the teenagers had done to her, the more she aroused herself. It was almost as if they were taking control of her body, using it against her like some kind of machine, a nasty sex machine over which she had no power.

  What she needed now was a hot bath and an early trip to bed. Maybe a good night’s sleep would clear her mind and help her decide how to handle her situation. For starters, she’d get those kids out her mind, and the stupid pictures they’d gotten from god knew where.

  Long buried images. Images of her naked, youthful self, servile, sexing like an animal for strange men, ones whose names she hadn’t even known and never would know, despite their having done the most intimate things with her. Yes, she’d been driven out of her mind back then, nearly lost. But hadn’t she escaped? And couldn’t she do so again, a million times more easily now that she was older than her opponents, the one with the true power and control?