Slave is tortured in class

Mrs Watson hadn't been ordered by her master to put on an exhibitionist show, for a couple of weeks. She still wasn't allowed to wear underwear, although she needed some support, and so a quarter-cup bra was allowed. Some days she wore slave chains under a dress while teaching, and had to be careful not to reveal them.

She'd given up worrying about being caught misbehaving in school, or someone finding out she was a pupil's slave. Her master had moved her into his apartment, with the intention of keeping her permanently enslaved. At least it meant some sort of security if she lost her teaching job. On the other hand it meant she was dependent upon the capricious whims of an adolescent. Any worries she had about this were suppressed, leaving her feeling happy to be a teenager's sex slave.

Mrs Watson had only just survived the term, without being caught behaving badly in her classroom. The last week was going to be easy, with relaxed rules, and the students would be in a good mood. The teachers either put up with the raucous behaviour, or joined in. Almost anything went, if the students could raise enough money for charity. The school rules weren't just bent, they could be trashed.

For the last week a teacher was in charge of one class, instead of them moving from one classroom to another. Danny, her master, was in hers. She wondered if it were a coincidence or not. She knew he had set her up for something, but wasn't sure what it was. All she could do was play along, as her master ordered. When a Roman celebration was put forward as the theme, she knew Danny had a hand in it, so she had to agree to their plans.

'Alright, we'll celebrate the Roman Saturnalia festival. So, how are we going to make this happen,' she smiled at her class.

'You could serve us, as a master would act as a slave during Saturnalia,' Edward suggested.

Mrs Watson felt dreadful over the mention of slaves, though they could hardly be expected to know the significance of such a status. She really was a slave, and wasn't even mistress in her own classroom, as Danny pulled the strings.

'Mrs Watson is not a master, or a mistress, and we aren't slaves,' Brenda pointed out.

'Saturnalia is all about turning society on its head. So in the classroom the teacher becomes the student, and the student becomes the teacher,' Oliver said.

The class enthused over this idea, and readily agreed. Mrs Watson surmised her master had sown the seeds of this idea, and it had his approval. He wouldn't have directly told them to treat her like a student, or would he?

'Alright, as it's for charity I must agree. Starting from tomorrow morning I'll be the student. You have till then to make up the rules for the celebration,' Mrs Watson said, while gathering up her things.

The class had worked hard to bring in an enormous amount of money for charity. This meant the principal would relax the rules all the more, and let them get away with almost anything, short of murder. If he didn't, they could donate the money to another charity, and he would lose face. Not a man to be crossed, she would have to watch her step.

It occurred to her that her master had donated the proceeds from the sale of her belongings. All her worldly goods had been sold when she moved into his apartment, and the money contributed to the class collection. That meant she was paying for her own torture. For there was no doubt, she would be tortured tomorrow, or at least badly teased. Students getting their own back on a teacher, at the end of their schooling, could be very cruel.

Next morning the class settled down more quickly than usual. They sat in eager anticipation, waiting to see their teacher's reaction to their plans. Robert stood by the teacher's desk, ready to present the rules his teacher would have to comply with. Mrs Watson surmised Danny had some input to these. She sat at one of the student desks looking out of place, and worried.

'I'm not sure I can allow this. Alright, I know it's for charity, but all the same, there are school rules. Tell me again how much you raised? You've raised all that between you, I am impressed. Well, so long as you don't go too far, and the game is kept within the classroom. Alright, alright, I agree. Yes, I promise to abide by the rules,' Mrs Watson finally conceded.

Her students didn't cheer as they needed to keep quiet, though the looks on their faces revealed clearly how they felt. They looked forward to ruling over their teacher for a change. Some thought of revenge, and others merely wanted to tell a teacher what to do.

'First you have to read out the rules, Vicky, and agree to them,' Robert said.

'Yes, sir,' she nervously replied.

A rumble of amusement went around the class, from the humble way she spoke. They figured their teacher was acting the part, not realising she had been trained by Danny to be an obedient slave. She automatically slipped into the role of slave under Robert's domineering manner, which triggered her submissiveness. It was dangerous behaving submissive in her classroom, but she couldn't help it.

She stood up before her class to read their rules. It reminded her of the serious declaration of her position as Danny's slave, all those weeks ago.

'I promise to obey my teachers. I promise to be a well behaved schoolgirl in class. I will submit to a teacher's punishment, which will be whatever they decide is fitting. Err, what will that be,' she began.

'Do as you are told, Vicky, and read the rules,' Robert interrupted.

'That's a breach of the rules, so you've earned a punishment already,' Jillian gleefully pointed out.

The demeaning way they spoke to her, deepened a feeling of deference to them. The slave training, months of following Danny's orders, and her natural submissiveness, combined to push her under their influence.

'Sorry, sir, sorry, ma'am,' she humbly spoke.

The class loved this new humble demeanour, thinking she was putting it on. When she called herself a schoolgirl, they laughed, as they knew what was next.

'I will wear a school uniform. The uniform will be decided by my teachers, and I promise not to modify my schoolgirl uniform,' she said.

This brought on amusement, as they had all seen the uniform.

'I will defer to my teachers at all times. I will show my teachers respect. My teachers will always be right. I am a mere schoolgirl, and I will always be wrong. I will do as I am told at all times, as I am just a schoolgirl, and my teachers know better. A teacher will decide if I am wrong over anything. A teacher will decide if I have been a naughty schoolgirl. A teacher will decide everything for me, as I can't make decisions, because I am just a silly schoolgirl. My punishment will be decided by a teacher. The punishment could be lines, a telling off, or, corporal punishment,' she said, and stopped.

She stuttered unintelligibly, then made the objection, 'Err, the school doesn't allow corporal punishment,' she nervously said.

'You are a special student, so the school rules don't apply to you, girl. You have agreed to our rules, so you will obey the nominated teacher. For the next hour I am the nominated teacher, until someone else takes over,' Robert explained.

'Yes, sir, sorry, sir,' Mrs Watson quietly spoke.

Danny was behind this game, so it was bound to be humiliating. She couldn't help submitting to Robert, which was worrying. Would she submit to each of her students in turn, or was it because he was big and strong? A terrible feeling struck her, that Danny had trained her so well, she would submit to anyone with a domineering personality.

'You're school uniform is in the store cupboard, so go and get changed, girl,' Robert heavily spoke.

There was a real sense of authority in his voice, together with an expectation that she would obey. When she hesitantly walked to the back of the classroom, he let out a sigh of relief. Danny had told him to take immediate charge of her, and keep her off balance. He still didn't believe it, figuring she would reject the uniform, and his new found authority would fail before it got going.

Everyone in class was whispering excitedly. They'd all seen the outfit, which was supposedly a schoolgirl uniform. It was more like a Halloween outfit, and certainly not anything the girls would condescend to wear, or so they said. It was too revealing for a teacher to wear, but there again, she had agreed, and she was known for keeping a promise.

Mrs Watson poked her head from around the door, silencing the whispers.

'Err, sorry, Sir. The uniform isn't right, I mean, it's not, err, it's too, err,' she mumbled.

Robert took a firm hold of her arm, pulled her from the cupboard, and marched her to the front of the class. Everyone was too astounded to laugh, or jeer. Their mature responsible teacher was dressed like a young slut. Even her demeanour had changed. From being confidently in charge of the class, she was now a diffident, frightened schoolgirl.

As she was dragged between the desks, the little skirt bounced up showing off a pair of tight white panties, plastered to her cheeks. The guys were silently ogling her peachy bottom. The girls were highly amused that Mrs Watson was dressed so lewdly. Who would have guessed the woman had such an attractive bottom?

Robert turned her around to face the class. Mrs Watson nervously pulled at the pleated skirt. It was too short to cover much of her thighs, and pulling at it did no good. The feeble action showed how nervous she was. Her head was down, leaving her looking cowed and shameful.

It was no wonder she had lost her confidence, when dressed like a slut in front of her entire class.

'Tell the class what you are, new girl,' Robert demanded, in a strong authoritative voice.

She hesitated from spilling the truth, that she was a boy's sex slave, only just holding back. The alternative was less daunting, as she caught on to what they wanted to hear.

'I'm a new girl, sir,' she wavered. 'I'm a silly schoolgirl, unable to make decisions for myself. I promise to be a good girl in class, sir. I promise to behave, and to do as my teachers tell me. Thank you for my schoolgirl uniform, sir,' she humbly spoke, while squirming on the spot.

When she called herself a schoolgirl, the absurdity made the whole class laugh. Their laughter was taken as ridicule, and she sank into submissiveness all the more. It was a safe haven, following others. A mechanism she had used throughout school.

The flat shoes meant she was much shorter than Robert, enhancing her transformation into a wretched schoolgirl. More than one student sat at their desk with mouth agape. Only minutes ago, Mrs Watson had been a mature woman, demanding and receiving respect, from years of teaching. The self-conscious young thing, squirming next to the nominated teacher, seemed years younger, and behaved like it too.

Robert could see something had happened to their teacher, and had been told to look out for it by Danny. Only now did he believe his friend's advice. When she retreated into the submissive role of student, he should take advantage before she had a chance to shake it off. Define her role and his, by dominating her, Danny had told him.

Easier said than done, Robert thought.

'Vicky, you will sit next to one of the other students, who will watch over you. Make sure you don't misbehave, or you will be punished, understood?' he warned.

'Yes, Sir,' Mrs Watson quavered.

The class thought she was feeling humiliated from wearing such a nasty outfit, but she was used to wearing worse things for her master. The whole belittling situation pushed her into be submissive. Wearing such a dire outfit in front of her class was humiliating, and that excited her. She was pulling her thighs together, and acting coy, from being so stoked up. She wasn't shivering from shame, but vibrating with arousal.

'The new girl, should be punished for not reading out the rules properly,' Jillian gleefully reminded him.

'That's right, I forgot. First you must be punished,' Robert said, trying to reassert his authority.

He put a hand around the back of her neck, and pushed her over the teachers' desk. The little skirt didn't need pulling up to reveal her panty clad bottom. In his other hand he had a wooden rule. It wouldn't hurt much, but it was the humiliation that counted, or so Danny had informed him.

Robert was prepared for his teacher to protest and shout at him for such an outrageous act. Instead she capitulated by keeping quiet, and remaining in place, bent over her own desk. It seemed Danny was right!

Before she came to her senses, he raised the rule like a cane, and smacked her bottom.

'Oww! One, sir,' she said.

The whole class was stunned that she hadn't protested, and called the whole thing off. Hearing her counting was funny, yet they didn't laugh.

It was only then Robert had a good look at her panties. Everyone else had when she walked to the front of the classroom. His cock began to harden at the sight of his teachers cute peachy bottom. Like the others, he'd never expected her to have such a sexy ass.

'Oww! Two, sir,' she said.

The white cotton panties were pasted over the squirming cheeks. With her bent over they were pulled into her crack. After that whack, her wriggle brought an added bonus. His eyes widened on seeing a lump pushing between her upper thighs. His teacher's pussy was blossoming!

'Oww! Three, sir,' she said.

Was this what Danny had meant? Their teacher was excited from being humiliated! The class couldn't see her sex as she was side on to them. They were enjoying enormously the spectacle of their teacher being caned by one of their own. The others didn't care why she was submitting to such an indignity, it was enough that she was.

'Oww! Four, sir,' she said.

A couple more strokes, and her pussy was prominently swollen between her tightly pressed thighs. Robert hoped his trouser lump wasn't too prominent. He needn't have worried, as all eyes were on their teacher. There was a mixture of wonder and devilment, over her submitting to such an indignity.

When she stood up, and massaged her sore bottom, they nearly cheered. A look from Robert reminded them to keep quiet, or risk another teacher looking in on them.

'Go and sit next to Jillian, girl. Jillian, make sure the new girl behaves herself,' Robert warned.

'Can I do her hair?' Jillian asked.

Not sure what she meant, he shrugged his shoulders, indicating she should get on with it. Robert enjoyed taking the class. He was asking simple questions, ready to land a couple of difficult ones on their teacher. He almost laughed on seeing what Jillian was doing to their teacher.

Mrs Watson sat mutely letting one of her students loosen her hair, and apply makeup. The whole class was amused to see fluffy pigtails hanging over her ears, and bouncing around her head. They looked silly on a woman over thirty, and served to emphasise the slutty look.

Jillian looked pleased with the result. It seemed she had a downer on the teacher for some reason. She had been keen to remind everyone the teacher needed punishing, and now this indignity with the teacher's looks. She'd glued on false eyelashes, used eyeliner to paint freckles on her cheeks, and applied bright red lipstick, to complete a trashy style.

Their teacher was looking all the more like a slut, or an extra in a porn movie. The guys were keenly staring at her, though not so much at the makeup. It was her breasts that held their attention. The guys had always taken notice of Mrs Watson's large breasts, even when she wore dowdy clothing. In the brief top and skirt, a slim waist and rounded hips were emphasised.

On top of the slim waist were balanced a large pair of breasts. The quarter-cup bra barely held her breasts, looking as though hands pushed them up and together, into a deep cleavage. The thin white blouse hid nothing of their rounded plump form. The guys couldn't take their eyes off their teachers tits. The nipples were dangerously close to popping out the unbuttoned top, and they didn't want to miss the moment.

The girls were surprised and amused that their teacher submitted to being dressed like a slut. They looked at her with disdain, or envy, depending on their own style.

'Here, Jillian, will these do?' Samantha asked, offering a couple of pink ribbons, and thick framed glasses.

'Perfect!' Jillian laughed.

Jillian tied the ribbons in their teachers pigtails, adding to the woman's new look, as a porn film extra.

Mrs Watson sat at a desk, with her hands in her lap, trying to hold down the tiny skirt. She didn't need a mirror, to know what she looked like in the brief outfit. She was all legs and tits. She felt the boys eyes on her, as though they were all stroking her bare flesh. Sitting powerless in her classroom, unable to resist anything they did to her, was humiliating. Being so helpless had her sex on fire. If she hadn't been cleanly shaved down there, her pussy would have burst into flames.

She missed what had been said to her, and had to scramble to her feet to answer the teacher's question.

'Sorry, sir, I didn't hear the question,' she humbly spoke.

'Pay more attention, girl. That will be another punishment, girl,' Robert scolded her.

He repeated the question, and while she hesitated the whole class willed her not to answer.

'I'm, err, not sure, sir,' Mrs Watson stammered.

She looked around at the smiling faces, knowing it was a setup. They were going to torture her all day, and she didn't have any idea how to stop them. She rubbed her thighs together, hoping they wouldn't guess what was happening in her panties.

'Go and stand in the corner, with your hands on your head,' Robert ordered.

At the front of the class before everyone, she lifted her hands, feeling the little skirt rise up to show off her bottom. She almost wished they were bold enough to take her, for her pussy ached to be filled. This evening she would be begging her master to fuck her.

***

She imagined being pushed over her desk again, only this time her panties were pulled down. The big hunky eighteen year old smacked her bare bottom, then stopped.

'You are such a dirty little slut, you're wet, soaking wet,' Robert loudly told her.

Her whole class knew she was sexually aroused!

'What are you, girl?' he demanded of her.

Humiliation upon humiliation was being dumped upon her, and it would break her.

'I'm a dirty little slut of a teacher, and I'm wet between the legs. I'm a dirty slut of a teacher, for being aroused in my class,' she simpered.

The whole class could see her bottom, and her glistening lips, pushing between her thighs. The more she pulled her thighs together, the more her engorged sex was being shown off. She was a dirty tramp, not deserving to be a teacher.

'You will need a different kind of punishment, as a spanking just makes you more sexed up,' he harshly informed her.

'Yes, sir, thank you, sir. This dirty little slutty teacher needs punishing, sir,' she wailed.

She felt a hardness between her thighs, and wondered if her pussy was going to be beaten. Instead, she felt the stick shoved between her wet open lips. Oh! God! She was being reamed by a phallus in front of her whole class. She felt it reach the neck of her womb, it was so deep. Then she felt his balls swing against her crotch. No! One of her pupils was screwing her, before her whole class! His cock was so big and hard, she hadn't realised what was happening. Taking her, fucking her, meant she was now his, and she had to do whatever he said, as his slave.

She turned her head to look at her students, and saw they were clustered around, as though it were a biology class. No! They were awaiting their turn! She could see all those cocks, big and hard, waiting for her. Even the girls were going to take her, as they wore strap-on dildos. A dry sob escaped her mouth as it sank in, that all her students were going to fuck her!
***

Facing the corner they couldn't see the agony contorting her face. It took what little willpower she had left not to finger her pussy, and she only just refrained from rubbing her thighs together. Her whole class would witness her downfall if they carried on with such dire humiliation.

'Come here, girl,' a female voice told her.

Robert's hour was up, and Betty was the next designated teacher. She was a big black girl, and looked dangerously powerful now that she was in charge.

'Yes, ma'am,' Mrs Watson humbly spoke.

Betty smiled at her. It was refreshing to hear a white woman defer to a black girl, and she meant to take full advantage. The next hour wasn't likely to be as bad as it could have been. It was humiliating to be punished by a student, but if she remembered correctly, Betty didn't have much of an imagination.

'Over here, new girl,' Betty ordered.

'I want you to get to know the other students, so you can mix in,' she sweetly smiled.

'Yes, ma'am,' Mrs Watson agreed.

'Start over here. Shake his hand, and introduce yourself. To each student, tell them something about yourself,' she smiled.

This didn't seem to be too onerous, just so long as she could think of something different to say to each of them.

'Hi, I'm a new student here, and my name is Vicky,' she began.

He returned with his name, and kept vigorously shaking her hand. She realised why, on feeling her breasts dancing around. They had left the little bra, and were freely bouncing around under the thin blouse. Her nipples joined in by growing hard, becoming engorged by the humiliation, and from being rubbed in the cotton blouse.

The next guy took a hold of her hand, and started her breasts gyrating straight away. This was only the second of her students, and she was already feeling both humiliated and aroused.

'Watch her tits wriggling around in this blouse, guys. Much better than when she walks down the corridor,' Benny laughed.

The guys in her class were playing with her tits, which was both humiliating, and turning her on.

Mrs Watson blanked out what they were doing to her. The boys were making her breasts dance, and enjoying it enormously. Their lewd comments were hard to take. Fortunately only a select few had won the opportunity to tease her. Once they had finished with her, she sat down at her desk, trying to sink into the floor.

Lunchtime came around and of course no one wanted to leave the, 'new girl'. Even if someone else was in charge, it was fun watching her being humiliated. Some of the students thought the nominated teachers were going too far, but they weren't brave enough to object, and go against the rest of the class.

A girly, pink lunchbox was given to her. 'Eat up everything, or you will be punished, girl,' Frank heavily told her.

Not wanting to find out what his idea of a punishment was, she did as she was told. At least if a so called teacher tried to impose an unfair punishment, the class would object. The large bottle of pop was too sweet, but she managed it. Tipping up the bottle for the last drop, she dribbled some on her blouse.

'You clumsy girl,' Frank scolded her. 'Stand up, girl. The blouse will have to be washed out quickly, or it will be ruined,' he told her.

'Betty, do you mind helping out this stupid girl?' he asked.

'Sure, sir, I'll rinse it out for her,' Betty helpfully agreed. 'Come on girl, get that blouse off,' Betty cajoled her.

The blouse was already falling open, when the girl pulled at the last few buttons still holding it together. Mrs Watson didn't struggle, as she again passively went along with the torment. Submitting to their torture gave them the green light to treat her ever more badly, but she couldn't generate the energy to resist.

Watching the blouse disappear through the door, she wondered if it would be returned. The quarter cup bra didn't cover much of her breasts. She cuddled them, trying to hide them as best she could. What was next? Would they find excuses to strip all her clothes away, as they had already done to her dignity.

'I was missed out, sir,' Len spoke up.

'What do you mean?' asked their designated teacher.

'The new girl was supposed to introduce herself to me, but didn't,' Len pointed out.

Frank knew Len was lying, but smiled at the idea of it.

'Well? Go introduce yourself to Len, you know what to do, girl,' he gleefully told her.

'But, sir!' she complained.

'No excuses, girl. Do as you're told or be punished,' he said, while meaningfully swinging the rule Robert had used on her.

Unsure which punishment would be worse, she nevertheless walked over to Len, protectively holding her breasts. The teacher would probably spank her, and make her go through with it anyway.

Offering her hand to the boy meant uncover a breast. She looked away when he took a firm grip, and began vigorously shaking her hand. In resignation to the inevitable, she dropped her free hand to her side.

'The new girl's tits are well fit,' Len commented.

Her large breasts bounced out of the cups, and he began to shake her, to get one back in then the other. One of her breasts landed back in, then out again, when the other landed in its cup. He was treating her as though she were a mere game, not with the respect a teacher deserved.

'That's enough, Len,' Frank told him.

Reluctantly he let go of her hand. One of the others hopefully mentioned she hadn't told him anything about herself, when shaking his hand. Fortunately Frank dismissed the guy, and let her sit back down.

Mrs Watson was thoroughly ground down by the horrendous experience. It had been bad when the top was pulled off, to show the whole class her breasts. Everyone in her class had witnessed one of her boys, manipulating them. He hadn't actually played with them, but very nearly. Would that be her next torture, letting the guys play with her breasts.

With some small relief she was glad to get the blouse back. She never thought to be glad to wear such a brief and inadequate garment. The last two buttons had gone missing, so she tied it under her breasts, showing off her slight belly. The front was wet, and showed off her breasts with nipples pointing through, but it was better than nothing.

Lunchtime was almost over, and she tried to hold on, but inevitably had to raise her hand.

'What is it, girl,' Anne, the next teacher asked.

'Please, ma'am, may I go to the restroom?' she humbly asked.

'As a new girl, you'll need a guide. Jillian, you know what to do,' Anne said.

Mrs Watson saw an unspoken message pass between them, and wondered what trouble she was in now.

'No! This way,' the girl told her.

'But, Jillian, I need to change,' Mrs Watson whispered.

The girl took hold of her hand and led her out of the classroom. There weren't many students in the corridor, but enough to make it embarrassing. She was showing off too much of her body to pass the school dress code, for a member of staff, or even a student. She kept her head down, hoping not to be recognised.

The guys were too interested in her body to notice her face. The little skirt bounced up to reveal her panties, and the blouse was still wet, showing off her breasts. Instead of being led to the staff rest room, she was pushed into one of the girls toilets.

'In there, girl,' Jillian sneered, while pushing her teacher into a stall.

'Please, give me some privacy,' Mrs Watson pleaded.

'What have you got to hide, girl?' she offhandedly said.

Watching Mrs Watson pull her panties around her knees, it was a surprise to see she'd had a Brazilian.

'Don't hide it, open your knees, girl. I would never have believed it, you're completely bald,' she laughed.

Mrs Watson just knew this girl would use this against her in some way. It was embarrassing having one of her students watching her, and even more so, when the girl laughed at her closely shaved sex.

'Wash your hands, naughty girl. Let me see how smooth you are,' Jillian demanded, and pushed a hand up the skirt.

Mrs Watson froze on feeling the girl grip her sex. The hand had pushed into her panties, and was feeling her shaven crotch!

'Please, Jillian, there's no need to do that!' she hesitantly spoke.

There was no telling what the girl might do next, so she had to be careful. In such a vulnerable state, it would be difficult to resist the tormentor.

'So, our teacher's cunt is completely bald, like a little peachy girl. How cute. So you are a little schoolgirl after all,' Jillian laughed.

'Please, Jillian! I mean, please, miss,' she protested.

'Wow! What have we here? Your pussy's been pierced. Who would have believed it of Mrs Watson! Naughty girl, you're leaking, and opening up. I do believe my teacher is becoming sexed up. Naughty, girl,' Jillian teased, and slapped her bottom.

'Tell me naughty teacher, am I turning you on?' the girl purred in her ear.

'Yes, no! I mean, it's the humiliation,' she reluctantly revealed.

'Mmm, interesting. One of your students fingering you is humiliating, and humiliation turns you on?' Jillian asked.

'Yes. Please stop, it's not right,' she heavily breathed out.

'Having one of your students push two fingers into you, while playing with your clitoris, is humiliating. You want it to stop, yet you can't stop me, can you,' Jillian whispered into an ear.

'Yes, no, I don't know,' she moaned.

'You can't tell me you're not enjoying it, because you're soaking wet and wide open. Maybe you don't like girls. I'll give you to the boys to fuck, when I'm teacher,' Jillian proposed.

'No, I like girls, honest,' she lied.

'Either way, you are a very dirty little schoolgirl, aren't you,' Jillian leered.

'Yes, miss, I'm a dirty little schoolgirl, miss,' she groaned.

Jillian pulled her fingers out of her teacher, and wiped them on the panties. She tugged the panties into place, cupped the woman's crotch, and squeezed. It was the first time having an adult in such a vulnerable position, and she loved it. She would have to think of something suitable, for the woman's humiliation in class.

Jillian marched back to their classroom, with Mrs Watson obediently trotting along beside her. She paused outside the woman's classroom, with the beginning of an idea forming. The docile way she trotted at heel, reminded Jillian of the way the family Labrador behaved. There had been a teacher's pet in a previous class, but never a pet-teacher. She looked their teacher over, and smiled.

Mrs Watson shivered from the way the girl looked at her. She was in a hurry to get back into her classroom, as she was afraid to spend time alone with Jillian. That was one advantage she had. The whole class had to approve what torture the nominated teacher came up with. Being alone with Jillian felt oppressive, and dangerous.

Another of her students took over and made her stand in a corner, with hands on her head. This wasn't so bad, even though it meant her panty clad bottom was on view to her whole class. Since Robert had spanked her, none of the others had the audacity to try it. Yet, she still couldn't shake off the submissive state, and that kept her trapped, dancing to their tune.

'Welcome to my class, new girl. I am your teacher for the next hour, and expect you to pay attention, and pay me respect,' Andrea said.

Uncharacteristically, the girl was serious and sounded strict. She was no longer the happy go lucky young girl in class, so this didn't look good. The moment of power was bringing out unpleasant characteristics in her pupils, and she was the one to suffer. It didn't take long for her to be picked on.

'Sorry, ma'am,' she automatically said.

Whatever it was she had done, or hadn't done, she was to be punished for it. At least the girls were more inventive than the boys, who wanted to simply show off her body.

'Come and sit here, until you think of an answer,' Andrea said, sounding exasperated.

'Yes, ma'am,' she compliantly said.

Someone had brought in a seat from the nursery. On seeing it she silently groaned. Yet another kick at her authority, to stomp it into the ground. She lowered herself into the tiny chair, thinking this wasn't so bad. Trying to adjust the skirt for modesty did no good.

With her knees up almost under her chin, she was showing off her crotch. The humiliation and teasing had made her sex juices flow all morning. In the tiny seat, the panties were close under her nose, and were stinking of sex. She hoped none of her students found out, or they would have another excuse to punish her.

'Well done, girl. At last you've got something right. Straighten up your skirt, and go sit down,' Andrea told her.

The demeaning attitude shown her, reminded Mrs Watson of some teachers, maybe even her at times. She would never be so supercilious to one of her students ever again. It made her feel small and worthless, on top of her already undignified and degraded position.

Sitting next to the class bully, Jillian, was frightening. The girl was keenly waiting for the hour to arrive, when she could humiliate her teacher.

'It's been a pleasure teaching you,' Andrea smiled. 'I'll hand you over to the next designated teacher, for the last hour of school. So be a good little girl, and do as you are told, alright?'

'Yes, miss, thank you, miss, I'll be good little girl, miss,' Mrs Watson simpered, wondering if she had spread it a bit thick.

In dismay Mrs Watson watched Jillian take up position by the teachers desk. Damn it! It was Jillian, the class bully, who was now in charge of her.

The girls could tell their teacher was sexed up. The guys weren't aware of their teacher's state, only of their own arousal. Jillian was determined to take advantage of Mrs Watson, and the boys. What she really wanted was for them to line up behind the teacher, ready to fuck her one after another. She smiled wickedly at the teacher, knowing that fantasy wouldn't be possible.

She was gratified to see Mrs Watson flinch with fear. The woman knew she was in trouble.

'New girl, do as I say or receive a punishment, it is simple as that,' Jillian sternly stated.

'Yes, ma'am,' Mrs Watson humbly replied.

'I'm pleased you know your place, girl. Now fetch from my locker some bottles of coke, for the class. Reggie, you go with her, to make sure she behaves herself. Be quick!' Jillian encouraged.

Mrs Watson was soon back with the cold, large bottles. She cuddled them with both arms wrapped around them. She set them down on her desk, and Reginald gave her plastic cups, also from the locker.

'You can dish out the drinks for everyone,' Jillian smirked.

The rest of the class had already started laughing at their teacher. The cold bottles had an effect on her nipples, which were as prominent as Pinocchio's nose. At least they felt like it from the way her class was reacting. The girls too were laughing at her. The boys were leaning forward and making sucking noises at her.

It felt as though her nipples were being sucked by her entire class of teenagers. The humiliation was keeping her nipples stiff and hard. Her hands shook so much she spilt coke over the blouse, which made things worse. The thin white blouse became see-through, and the coke stuck the translucent material to her chest. This was no time to be wearing a quarter cup bra.

At last she had visited each of her pupils in turn, who wanted coke even if they weren't thirsty.

'Nice nipples, girl,' was one of the most decent comments.

At last she was finished and could sit down at her new desk. Before she reached it, Jillian called her over. She looked longingly at her desk, wondering if she would survive the ordeal to regain it.

'Come here, girl,' Jillian ordered. 'What's that smell? It's you, dirty girl. Lift up the skirt, come on, I haven't all day. Look at the state of your panties. You're a dirty little slut, what are you?' Jillian demanded.

As though it were a naughty fantasy, she replied, 'I'm a dirty little slut, miss.'

It wasn't a fantasy, she was humiliating herself before the whole class. They could see the stains of her sex juices on her panties, some of it wiped from Jillian's fingers. The wet patch in her crotch was evident, and smelt bad.

'I've got these spare, in case someone wets themselves. You didn't pee your panties, girl, did you. What have you done, girl? Come on tell the truth,' Jillian demanded.

Mrs Watson had to tell everyone what happened, or be punished. She would be spanked, or worse would follow if she didn't say what Jillian wanted to hear.

'I was aroused, miss. I've cum in my panties, miss,' she had to admit.

'Hold up your skirt, girl, while I change you,' Jillian told her.

It was devastating to say such a thing in front of her whole class. The guys were quietly watching her holding up the skirt, whereas the girls were sniggering at her.

Jillian pulled at her panties, tugging the sticky cotton down her legs. Mrs Watson wasn't expecting this! Her eyes opened wide in shock. Her shaved pussy was being shown off to everyone. The sooner the girl pulled up the clean panties the better. It was terribly humiliating to be changed in her own classroom, before her students, as though she were a kid.

'What's that? She's been shaved bare,' one of her students commented.

'It's a Brazilian,' one of the girls pointed out.

'She's got piercing rings in her lips,' another girl pointed, and laughed.

The clean panties are far too small, but the girl continues to struggle, while she holds the skirt up. Being shaken around, she's showing off her bare bottom, then her bare pussy. The guys are commenting on her cute ass, and what they'd like to stick in her pussy.

Knowing Jillian has set her up, grinds her will to resist down to nothing. Unable to get them on, means she will have to sit in class without panties, in the ridiculously short skirt. Mrs Watson slunk at her desk, expecting Jillian to tell her to sit up. Surprisingly nothing was said to her for the rest of the hour. Jillian had humiliated her, but not punished her as expected.

What tomorrow would bring she had no idea, and didn't want to think about it. She had survived one day of torture, and was grateful for that.