My Place In Things

I never did find my niche, but it found me on a lonely road in
rural Massachusetts one hot August afternoon. My father thought
forcing me into teaching would be just the thing to straighten me out,
so I guess the joke is on him. He forced me to take a teaching job by
cutting off my allowance and threatening to write me out of his will.
Up until I started teaching I’d never done anything useful with my
college degree. I was content to enjoy life – travelling the world,
paryting, sleeping with every guy who caught my fancy, all the while
supported by my father’s money. It was inevitable that he’d get tired
of my shit and do something about it. And he did.

I arrived at Stone Ridge academy in the late summer of 1994. It’s
located in a small town in the Berkshires. Stone Ridge is a place
where rich parents send problem kids to straighten them out. I
suppose it’s ironic that my father got me the teaching job there, but
maybe the old man does have a sense of humor. My name is Dana Dawes
and I was a week shy of my 25th birthday when I arrived at Stone
Ridge. I’m a very beautiful brunette with long sleek legs, a nice
figure, and big brown eyes. I’m 34c-25-35, stand 5’7″ and weigh about
123 pounds.

My first year at Stone Ridge went pretty well, all things
considered. It was hard to get used to living in a small town
(population less than 2000) and learning to deal with a bunch of kids
who act just like I did was no stroll in the park. But I was shocked
to learn that I enjoyed teaching, still do in fact. It’s just my
personal circumstances that have changed. I lived alone the first
year, in a room in one of the dorms – part of the job was supervising
the brats when they weren’t in class. I kept to myself pretty much
and concentrated on making a go of it. I didn’t want to get cut out
of daddy’s will!

One teacher who’s much admired by the male population is Jill
Barrett, the girl’s physical eduation teacher. She’s in her late
twenties, tall, blonde, athletic, and easily the most beautiful woman
I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen quite a few. She was courteous and
helpful, but maintained a certain reserve, a distinct coolness. At
first I thought it was me – another woman, beautiful, and a potential
rival. But I soon realized that she treated everyone the same.

I didn’t get any vacation this year (1995) and spent the summer
teaching remedial classes. I did get away for a couple of weekends,
but that was it. In August, during a major heatwave, I drove to
Boston on a Friday night and spent the weekend with an old flame. It
was great – dinner, a show, a Red Sox game, and some great sex. It
was over all to soon and I drove back to Stone Ridge on Sunday
afternoon. I wanted to rest before classes on Monday. Remedial
classes are the pits!

I was close to Stone Ridge, maybe five or six miles away, when a
tire blew out on a stretch of rural road and my car went into a ditch.
I was wearing my seatbelt and the airbag deployed, so I wasn’t hurt,
but my car wasn’t driveable. I locked it up, put a note on the
windshield and started walking. I’d walked a little over a mile, and
was sweating like crazy before a car passed and pulled over. It was
Jill. She stepped out of her car, a gray Accord, looking cool and
sophisticated in a halter-style tennis dress that displayed her
perfect figure and long, tanned legs.

She leaned against the trunk with her arms folded and watched,
smiling, as I approached. “Need a ride?” She inquired. I nodded,
“God, yes! It’s so hot and there hasn’t been another car since I’ve
been walking.”

“I saw your car back there. What happened?” She straightened up
as I approached.

“Tire blew and it was in the ditch before I could react. I’m so
happy you came along. I don’t think I could walk another mile in this

Jill smiled. “It is hot, and so humid. But if you want a ride
you’re going to have to beg for one. On your knees. Nude. Like the
slave you are.”

I stared at her in shock. “What are you talking about? I’m no
slave! Are you crazy?”

She just grinned. “I’ve been watching you. You need someone to
control your life. Keep you on the straight-and-narrow so you can
inherit daddy’s money.” Suddenly her hand shot out and she slapped me
across the face. Hard. She’s 5’10” and very strong and the slap
rocked me back on my heels. I touched my hand to my cheek and stared
at her with tears in my eyes. She slapped me again. “Now get those
clothes off and get down on your knees and beg! Or you can walk back
and when you get there we can do this again! Do you strip now or

I dropped my eyes and whispered, “Now.” She slapped me again.
“You’re first lesson – call me ma’am or Miss Jill or Mistress, and be
polite. And answer fully. Now try again.” Another slap reinforced
the lesson.

I was crying, but I stifled my sobs and whispered, “I’ll strip now,
ma’am.” She nodded and I started to unbutton my blouse. She opened
the trunk of her Accord and told me to throw my clothes in as I
removed them. My blouse was followed closely by my linen shorts and
my sandals. Then I reached back and unhooked my bra. “Very nice,”
Jill commented as my firm round tits tumbled free. “I like your tan
lines.” I could feel myself blushing as I bent to push my panties
down over my hips. Jill chuckled. “I love a modest little slave!”

After tossing my panties into the trunk, I went to my knees and
begged for a ride back to school. She made me grovel on my belly in
the dirt and lick the dust off the toes of her tennis shoes. I was
shocked to discover that I was excited. Very excited.
She let me lick the toes of her sneakers for a couple of minutes
before nudging me away and telling me to crawl around to the passenger
door. As I crawled around to the side of the car, she kicked me
between my legs. Sobbing, I crawled faster to avoid more punishment.
She opened the door and I crawled in, remaining crouched on the floor
as ordered. As she drove, she talked about what was expected of me.
I would move into her quarters to ‘share’ them. Her roommate had just
left to take another job and nobody would think anything of it. I
would be responsible for all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry. I
would also be responsible for the upkeep of the house, the yard, and
the automobile. Mine would be sold and the money put into a CD. I
would have a wardrobe for school. Around the house, which was
surrounded by a high stockade fence and many evergreens and other
plantings, I would remain nude at all times. Regardless of the
season. I would have one jogbra, one pair of running shorts and one
pair of shoes. I would be expected to run five miles everyday before
6 a.m.

When we arrived back at school she parked in a hidden spot behind
the gym and got my clothes out of the trunk. She watched me dress and
then we got back into the car and she dropped me at the dorm. I went
inside and packed. Everything I owned fit into two large suitcases.
None of the furniture in the room was mine. I called Jill when I was
ready and she came to pick me up. Her quarters, owned by school, are
across campus on a hill near the gym. The house is small, but cozy.
The exterior is brick and it was built in the ’20s. The stockade
fence was added a few years ago to give the occupant some privacy. As
we approached the gate, Jill pressed a button on a remote and the gate
swung open. Once inside, she pulled up to the garage and parked. I
was trembling from a mixture of fear and excitement as I got out and
followed her into the house.

My suitcases went right up to her room where I unpacked and allowed
her to sort through my clothes. Dresses, skirts, and most blouses
went into the closet for school wear, mayny things went onto the floor
for the trash (all my panties, bras, pantyhose, and slacks) and some
went into a pile to be altered. (Jeans – to be converted to shorts
for instance). When that was done, Jill had me strip and shower. The
shower was symbolic I guess – to cleanse me before I began my new life
as her slave. When the shower was over she ordered me to kneel and
rest my head on the shower mat. She prepared an enema while I watched
with fearful eyes. She hung the bag from a hook sent in the ceiling
and then slipped the greased nozzle into my ass. She sat beside me
and massaged my belly while the three quarts of soapy water filled my
bowels. When the bag was empty, she removed the nozzle and replaced
it with a large, tight butt plug. “You’ll hold this for 15 minutes.
We’ll go out into the back yard and I’ll show you my gardens.”

I nodded. “Yes, mistress. Thank you.” I followed her down the
stairs, walking very slowly. We paused in the kitchen and she had me
hold my arms out in front of me with my hands clasped while she tied
my wrists together. Not tightly, but tight enough so that I couldn’t
get out. We walked around while she showed off her gardens. They’re
quite nice and well-planned. After fifteen minutes had passed, she
took me over to the fence and had me stand on a wooden box, facing the
fence, and she looped the rope around my wrist over a hook in the top
of one of the fence posts. Then she pulled the box out from under my
feet, leaving me hanging by my wrists, my toes barely touching the
ground. Then she spread my buttocks and pulled the butt plug out.
She pushed one hand between me and the fence and massaged my belly. I
turned and whispered, “Please, don’t make me do this! Please, let me
go to the bathroom. Please mistress, please don’t humiliate me like

Jill grinned. “But that’s the whole purpose. To humilate you. To
make you realize that you have no privacy, that your a slave. Now be a
good girl and expel it. You do want to be a good girl, don’t you?”
Then she slapped me on the ass. “Or would you rather be persuaded
with a good hard spanking?”

“No, mistress, I don’t want a spanking. I want to be a good girl.”
Then, weeping in shame, I expelled the contents of my bowels. I felt
the water and shit splash on my legs and wished I could crawl into a
hole and die. But, at the same time, I felt a perverted sense of
satisfaction – I was a good girl and wouldn’t be spanked. Jill washed
me with a hose and then let me down. Then she took me up to the
patio, gagged me, and bent me over a chair. I screamed into the gag
as she beat me with a braided leather belt. When it was over, I
crawled to her on my belly, sobbing, and licked her bare feet while I
begged her to let me prove to her that I could be a good slave.

She crouched and ruffled my hair. “The best way to prove that
would be to stretch out on the table with your legs spread and beg to
be pussy-whipped.” I stared up at her in shocked disbelief. A minute
later I was on the table, legs spread. “Please, Miss Jill, whip my
pussy. Please, whip it hard.” I lay there and took ten hard strokes
between my legs. I sobbed and begged, but I didn’t move. After it
was over, I went inside on my hands and knees, a form of locomotion
that I was to get well acquainted with over the next few months.

I was sent up to shower again, and Jill made me go up the stairs on
my knees, hands clasped behind my neck. It was hard! Especially with
her behind me, whipping me along with that damn braided belt! I was
sobbing again by the time I got to the top. My knees ached for hours.
The stairs are hardwood and not carpeted. This time, before my
shower, my long hair was clipped short and I was shaved. After the
shower, when I was dry and had brushed my teeth, I went into the
bedroom and found Jill sitting on the bed crosslegged and nude. Her
body was fantastic – firm, pointy tits and those long beautiful legs.
She was shaved too and as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed I
knew what was coming. I had tried sex with a couple of girls in
college and it didn’t do anything for me, so I wasn’t a virgin in that
respect. But to be expected to provide continually sexual services as
a slave was something new.

I went to my knees in the doorway and approached Jill with downcast
eyes. “Please, mistress, may I satisfy you with my tongue?” She
sighed and stroked my hair. “Such a good slave. Yes, you may satisfy
me with your tongue. Begin at my feet.” I crouched and licked and
kissed each toe on both feet. Then I worked my way up her lovely
calves, paying a good deal of attention to her delicately sculpted
knees. Even more time was spent licking and kissing her long firm
thighs. By the time I ran my tongue up the furrow between her legs
she was dripping. She moaned with pleasure as I teased her with my
tongue. “Oh god! You are a great little cunt-licker!” I slipped my
hands under her buttocks and lifted her so that I had full access to
her sex. After a minute or two I began to tease her anus with the tip
of one finger. When she pushed against my finger, I nipped her clit
and drove my finger deep into her tight ass. She threw her head back
and screamed in pleasure as her orgasm tore through her.

She rewarded me by strapping on a huge dildo and raping my virgin
asshole as I whimpered and begged. God, it was so right! And that
was only the beginning of my slavery.

On Monday, I taught a remedial class wearing a clingy gray dress,
white thigh highs, and black medium-heeled pumps. The way my breasts
bounced when I moved made it clear to all that I was braless. And I
heard one girl say to another, “Look, no panty lines. She must be
nude under that dress.” It was so deliciously humiliating. After
class one of the girls, a cute little redhead, stayed after to ask
some questions. Something she’d never done before. Jill had ordered
me not to resist if any of the girls made advances, but I was not to
initiate anything. The redhead, Amy, was wearing shorts and a cropped
t-shirt. She’s a small girl, no more than 5’4″, but she has a great
little body and she’s pretty – big green eyes and lots of freckles.

As I answered her questions, she casually reached out and put her
hand on my ass. I glanced at her, but didn’t say a word. She went
over and closed the door. I heard the lock click before she turned
away from the door. I stood by my desk and stared at her in silence
as she walked back from the door. “Are you wearning anything under
your dress?” She smiled as she spoke because she knew the answer
already. I shook my head. She grinned. “Show me.”

I stooped and caught the hem of my dress and lifted it smoothly
over my head. I folded it neatly and put it down on the desk. Then I
stood with my hands at my sides and stared at the far wall while Amy
stroked me. She cupped my tits and squeezed them gently. I sighed
and closed my eyes. She teased my nipples erect with the balls of her
thumbs. “Do you like this?”

I nodded. “Oh, yes!”

“And this?” I sighed as her hand worked between my legs. “Oh god,

“Is it true that you’re Jill’s slave?” My eyes opened in shock.
Amy giggled. “Jill told me you were. Do you think I’d do this if she
hadn’t put me up to it? Now get up and squat on your desk – knees
apart.” I obeyed. And moaned with pleasure as she worked her small
hand into my cunt and fist-fucked me. My orgasm was incredible! Then
I was down on my knees and eating her delicious young pussy. She was
bare and wet and so eager. I knew that life at Stone Ridge was going
to be memorable from then on. Amy kissed me before she left and
whispered, “Next time I fist your ass.” I shivered and whispered,

And she did. Many times.

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