Dorothea pressed into Tommy her weight holding him up, preventing his knees from buckling entirely. As she was hissing into his ear, he would have preferred not to have felt his cock twitching to life in his tight trousers because in his mind that would prove Dorothea's pervert theory. But he couldn't help it. Being this close to this glorious girl and feeling the crush of those breasts right under his nose simply caused, as far as he was concerned, all of his blood to rush to that thing between his legs and make it hard. As she hissed the words into his ear she yanked his head by the hair again and with her free hand she was untucking her shirt and popping the rest of the buttons. It was a magnificent display of how from an early age, females were able to multi-task. Reaching under the shirt, sliding her fingers up her back and unclasping her bra and then sliding the same fingers between her and the terrified but erect Tommy so that she could discard her bra, leaving the full glory of those hooters so close, and actually touching Tommy. Then, in a display that was unnerving, scary even in that it hinted at what Dorothea would do later in life to her elderly husband, she proceeded to maul and molest and woman-handle Tommy into such a position that she could smother him with her breasts. And that was what she did – she forced him down a little but at the same time allowed the wall to keep him up. She worked her own weight and breast volume in such a position that she could smother his face, blinding him, and suffocating him. The scariest thing about this was that she did not do what she did randomly. She wasn't simply acting on some kind of weird impulse. What she was doing was deliberate. What she was doing to Tommy was deliberately smothering him, deliberately weakening him – taking any of the fight out of him – taking any last remnants of will out of him – weakening him, scaring him, frightening him so that she could continue her assault in the very seldom used toilet block in that lower corridor. Once she had got him into position against the wall, at exactly the right height, completely ignoring his whimpering and pleading she lifted both of her voluminous breasts from the sides, just by her under arm and lifted and then squeezed them together. When she did that she leaned forward and put more of her feminine weight on him – at the same time and pressed those breasts into his face. His eyes the last to be covered by the tide of tit flesh that was enveloping him. Then she held herself there. She smothered him, covered his face, completely and utterly and she stayed there. Shoving herself in tighter every time Tommy seemed to move or every time he seemed to twitch. Eventually the movements and the twitches diminishing as he grew weaker and weaker from the smothering. It was only very slowly and very gradually that she released the breasts flesh pressure from the face, the mouth, the nose of Tommy. Just like she was testing that he was sufficiently weakened. Just a little at a time. Like it was something that she did before. It was as though this well-developed schoolgirl was an expert in incapacitating others with her breasts. And that is what she did. Slowly, very slowly she got off him. He was breathing, he wasn't dead! But his eyes were rolling in their sockets. His mind would have been melting and as Dorothea dropped a hand, to feel his crotch, she got right back off him.
“I thought so you little pervert. Rock hard.”
One hand on his crotch, one hand twisted in his hair, and with her udders totally exposed, waving and bouncing and rippling, she dragged him into the female toilets, slamming the door shut behind them both. By the time she was dipping her nipples into his mouth, Tommy was naked. He was on his back on what seemed to be a piss stained floor and she was over him. She was sitting astride of him and was waving her tits over his face. She was using the hang and the weight of her tits to slap his head and his face – and he was whimpering. He hadn't recovered from the smothering – there was no intention of Dorothea's part to allow him to recover. Quite to the contrary , once in the seclusion of that lower corridor toilet, there was a relentless assault by Dorothea on Tommy's senses. Stripping him, assaulting him and then sitting astride of him as she fed her own large, erect nipples one and a time into his mouth. His mouth was opening and closing as he breathed – and he whimpered wetly as he felt the coarseness of the nipples dip in then out – and then the other being put in. As she did that, Dorothea reached back and was masturbating Tommy's cock. Like as though the final utter humiliation was that she was going to make him cum. And she did that. She did it with ease. Simply rubbing him – using his foreskin for friction and masturbating him. Using her thumb to slide and slip the pre-cum around his sensitive glans and then using an unnatural expertise then to simply build the orgasm, let it build and then let it ebb away and then build again – and then.... and then allowing release. The sperm shooting high before splashing back down across his naked torso. Dorothea lifting herself up and forward enough to allow herself to miss that splash.
“You're gonna be a good boy from now on, isn't that right Tommy boy? If I say 'shit' you will jump on my shovel, right, boy.”
Dorothea spoke slowly and simply as she re-dressed – Tommy in utter shock lying, nodding vacantly on the floor of the toilet block. Dorothea smiling, almost 'sweetly' as she left him there. Mission accomplished.
It could be that Dorothea had eventually got her comeuppance with Wendy, and the twins. She had had it all her own way for so long. Not just had it all her own way, but had her 'evil' way for so long. Look at what she did to and with poor Tommy. He was never the same after that encounter in the lower corridor – or the toilet block after the smothering. That was a particular dream that Dorothea was fond of sinking back into. The start of the dream signalled by the appearance of that shard of light and then the comforting, vivid images of the smothering of Tommy. She liked that – and she retained a hold over him. It was a simple fact that she made him her pet, much like the way she would envisage and plan to make Wendy her pet many years later. But we all know where that little plan got her. Probably it would be true to say that the Tommy incident had been the driving force behind her later exploits. He wasn't by any means the first unfortunate victim she had picked on and subjugated – but she had progressed with him much faster with him that anyone before him or immediately after him. He had given her a hunger. He had been the driving force behind her active attempts at ensnaring and victimising victims to extreme levels. She had had her first taste of that as a schoolgirl and it would shape the rest of her life. In school she had liked to sexually humiliate the boys because it was fun and she enjoyed milking them of their semen. Even as early as that she enjoyed that milking. The fact was that, also even as early as that she was attracted strangely to the same sex. She liked initially, using her own well advanced and developed bazookas as weapons against other girls. It made them feel uncomfortable around her – the way she flaunted herself almost like a fully developed adult would. How she was so confident with her breasts, indeed with her whole femininity around girls her own age, older or indeed younger. How she even had some of the female teacher literally quaking in their stilettos.
There had been one teacher in particular. A tiny woman, very petite, but also very pretty and with a slim figure – although a figure which didn't harbour much in the way of breasts. I suppose one might have called them 'average', although Dorothea would have definitely labelled the breasts of this science teach below average. On one day, in which Dorothea had been having a particularly restless day and on which she had decided in the morning that on that day she was going to learn nothing in the way of school work, she had followed Miss Warrington into the store cupboard on the pretence that she was going to help her with a load of Bunsen burners that they had intended to use for various experiments during a double lesson of general science on that day. Dorothea had tipped the wink to one of the other girls – tipped the wink to the extent that a severe beating would ensue should she not do as was expected of her. As it went, it was a pretty simple thing that was expected. The girl would follow Dorothea and Miss Warrington down a stairway leading the store rooms and she would simply lock them in once they were both inside. Nothing else was expected, nothing else was needed. She simply had to pus
h the door closed and turn the key in the lock and then just walk away and back to the classroom, slipping in without even being noticed that she had gone. On top of that, all she had to do was make sure that she kept her mouth closed – that she said nothing to anyone and acted as innocent as the day she was born.
Dorothea, in her waking state, could never recount, or remember what had happened in school with Miss Warrington. It was just like this weird little feeling that she got that 'something' had gone on but not the details. It only ever happened once and despite Miss Warrington remaining at the school for a further two years after that incident, it was never spoken about – never recounted or addressed in any way. In fact, Miss Warrington had transferred to another year group at the school and the two, apart from passing each other in the corridors from time to time, never had anything else to do with each other. As part of Dorothea's natural way she was cocky and arrogant in front of the teacher, partly because she had that feeling that something had happened, but apart from that it was her natural way. Miss Warrington, despite being relatively young was eventually pensioned off due to high levels of stress. So... it was a good thing, that once fate finally caught up with Dorothea, that she finally was able to fill in the gaps of what went on in that storeroom that day. She loved sinking into that particular dream – she loved it when the shard of light finally faded, and burnt out and there she was in that storeroom. And there was the shaking trembling Miss Warrington.
“Oh dear – it looks like we are in here, all alone for the foreseeable future. Or at the very least until someone finds us. That could be hours and hours. What are we going to do for hours and hours MISS Warrington, hm?”
Dorothea deliberately emphasised the MISS as though – well as though she didn't respect it at all. But in fairness to the teacher, she wasn't trembling right away. She had thought, quite naturally that the door had slammed shut and they had been locked in there quite by accident. It didn't even enter her pretty little head that it had been a planned incident, at all. It was only a slow dawning realisation that crept up over her as Dorothea had spoken – and as she had stepped over and into Miss Warrington's personal space that a slight change in facial colour had crossed the teacher's complexion.
“I'm s-sure if we b-both shout, and scream loud enough, someone will hear us and come and let us out of here Dorothea. I man we don't have to wait until we are found – maybe we can instigate being found all by ourselves.”
Miss Warrington had stuttered, but she had got it clear in her mind what she wanted to say and the way she wanted to say it. The problem was that, because she stuttered, her snobbish, stuck-up-herself tone was emphasised and that came across with very little effort to Dorothea. The big titted schoolgirl did have the immediate mind to slap the older, smaller woman very hard around the head and face, but.... but something inside her stopped her from doing that. Instead she smiled and she smiled wide and seemingly sincerely. Instead, instead she simply sauntered into Miss Warrington's personal space, right inside her space and lifted her chin so that her eyes came up to meet hers and with her huge,, shirted breasts pushed into the teacher she sealed a full mouth kiss on her. Not simply a peck of a kiss, or a passing kiss – or one where the lips brushed together in passing. But rather she held her chin lightly – she didn't need to hold it very rigidly since the teacher by this point was already trembling and quivering where she stood. It was like she aimed her own mouth, aimed her own full deep glossed lips at the older teacher and then sealed hers with hers. All the time her eyes did not leave Miss Warrington's. She melded lips and then she pushed into the kiss. This was not a schoolgirl kiss – this was a full blown, very obscene kiss. It did not start out as obscene. It was almost sensuous – like lovers would exchange. But it did not carry on that way. The kiss, driven by Dorothea pressed into an open mouthed affair and at first the girl did not invade that of the teacher's with her tongue. Instead she just threatened to do that whilst at the same time as mashing lips and making both sets of lips slippery with saliva. Dorothea kissed the teacher to the point where the older woman's legs felt weak and rubbery and where she was sure that they would collapse under her. They didn't though. With the aid of Dorothea's weight pressed into her, and then one knee pressed into the groin of the teacher she was held. The kiss progressed and then progressed some more. Dorothea didn't need to press in too much she just had to manipulate Miss Warrington's lips with her own and then, just begin to flick at the lips, especially the inside edge of the lips with the tip of her tongue. All the time Dorothea's eyes not leaving those of the woman. The teacher's own eyes opening wider and wider until one was sure they might pop. Little noises from the back of the teacher's throat hinted that there might have been something she wanted to say. But from the scene that was unfolding, that it was impossible for her to say anything at all. Lips sealed and Dorothea's tongue flicking at the mouth of the older woman. Flicking at it but those flicks slowly and surely turning into licks. Full licks of the lips and then the tongue pushing past the lips and into the mouth of the teacher proper. Initially there had been some resistance to the tongue. The teacher had tried to shut her mouth – had tried a little limply to push the big jugged girl away but she had proved too strong and Miss Warrington was having to fight for her breath through flared nostrils. As she fought for breath in that way, so Dorothea used her free hand to just reach down and 'scritch' the skirted thigh of the woman. This girl, this schoolgirl Dorothea was way too advanced to do what she was doing. She knew about the little nuances of the leg stroke – the inner thigh stroke – the little moves to take the majority of the focus away from the tongue that was sliding into her mouth. And that is what the tongue was doing, it was sliding into her mouth. Miss Warrington was tasting this young girl by gently suckling her tongue. She didn't mean to suckle the tongue – at least that was what she was telling herself. But Dorothea even all the way back then knew all of the little nuances. She could feel the little sucking motions on her tongue as it explored the mouth of the teacher and she could feel those little sighs of despair from Miss Warrington, through her flared nostrils as it seemed that her body was in the process of betraying her. But the kiss was relentless. It was simply relentless. And it didn't seem to end, or let off on the pressure. Once Dorothea had got her tongue firmly established in the mouth of the petite teacher, she began rubbing her knee a little harder into the groin. That was the thing about over the knee socks – they did that. They offered and forced a little more friction into the most sensitive areas and right through the thinness of the panties Miss Warrington could feel the assault by the socked knee on her sexuality.
That assault was as relentless as the tongue in her mouth and the lips on her lips. Dorothea kept the kiss going, but she was smiling as well and as she scritched the skirted thigh of the teacher so she stroked down her other side with her free hand, the hand that had been holding the chin gently. As she did that, she could feel the pressure of her own breasts forcing themselves into the teacher and she was sure that Miss Warrington would be able to feel the bullet like stubs of her nipples poking through the transparent bra she was wearing as well as through the pure white blouse she wore. She kissed the teacher until she could feel the older woman was breathless and then she let off a little. Kept the lips sliding together but just released the pressure a bit. It would have been about this point that the teacher would have broken free, maybe slapped the girls face and asked what the fuck she thought she was doing. But she didn't. Dorothea necked her, smiling. She could feel Miss Warrington quivering and she pressed in to resume the kiss – this time the teacher responded and pressed back. Not hard, not hungrily because she was probably in the process of having her mind blown away right at that time. That, and the shame that more or less coursed through her like some rancid disease or other. Then she was kissing her hard again, sliding her tongue right inside the quivering mouth of the older woman. This time the tongue exploring deeper and deeper and inviting the older woman to suckle and then suckle some more.
Dorothea's thumb coming up, finding the silk blouse of her general science teacher and the less than average mounds of breasts held within it. Using her thumbs one to each mound and sliding over the nipple as she kissed and ate deeply into the older woman's mouth. Stroking the thumbs first one way then the other – and then the other. Kissing but smiling lewdly as she felt those little button nipples hardening under the silk and under the pads of her thumbs. Stroking those hardening nipples and then pressing the pads of her thumbs in, kind of dressing the nipples and keeping them depressed as she eventually broke away from the kiss. It wasn't a sudden pull away, but a slow pull away, saliva stretched between the two sets of lips like some kind of bizarre, erotic high wire act in the process of starting. Dorothea then swiping her tongue out, and then across first the upper lip of the teacher and then the lower lip – and in the process of that, breaking the saliva strings and scooping them up – mixed saliva strings that she took back into her own mouth, and her eyes not leaving Miss Warrington rather holding them, making sure that the older woman could see that this younger girl, this young girl, her pupil was tasting her, and enjoying her. Consuming her – and enjoying consuming her.
“Now Lucy Warrington I don't want to hear any more nonsense about screaming out to anyone at any time, do I make myself clear, hmm?”
Dorothea spoke from very close to the teacher's face and her hot breath washed over her. She spoke softly and she kissed her on the end of her cute, upturned nose as though to emphasise her point. She wasn't nasty though, or threatening. She was unthreatening in a threatening kind of way – if there was such a thing. It wasn't so much what Dorothea said that seemed to shake the teacher to the core – it was more the point that she knew and used her Christian name. No pupil had ever addressed her by her Christian name. And here she was locked in a store cupboard with one of the more scarier pupils in Dorothea. And she had just been kissed into submission. She didn't answer straight away – not because she couldn't – her lips were free, they just quivered, but because she could feel the thumbs pressing and then stroking her nipples again and she had become more than a little knowing of the warm wet moisture that was collecting between her legs. The thing was that, Dorothea's knee was there also, so she knew about the wetness to. As she pressed and then began to stroke and distort the hard little nipples of the teacher again she smiled a little and let the teacher see her smile. As she smiled she shifted her knee in the slippery mess that was collecting and she pressed that knee a little more. Her over the knee sock getting soaked and then her thigh flesh. She worked the knee hard so that the sock came down over the knee and then she could feel better what she was doing with her knee. One hand coming down, finger finding the tiny gusset of the panties the teacher was wearing and slipping that to one side. Pressing the knee up again and then feeling for the groove of the older woman's sex. A little smile from Dorothea as Lucy Warrington winced. The wince due to a number of factors – the pressure of the knee up into her very sensitive feminine flesh, and the shame of the pleasure that she was feeling. She reasoned with herself that this pleasure was being forced upon her, and that she didn't want it – she couldn't want it and that it was wrong to want it, or enjoy it the way she seemed to be doing so on an increasing basis. Dorothea seemed to read her mind. She took one hand away from one silk sheathed nipple and pressed it to the quivering lips of her teacher.
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