Teaching a Domme

Author's Disclaimer: All characters depicted are over 18, etc. etc. Enjoy!

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The woman walked down the hall with a confident, easy stride despite the high heels. The sundress was short enough to show off her long, toned legs as she came down the hall. Cinderblocks of white surrounded her, broken only by a single wide stripe of green down the middle that did nothing to break up the harshness of the fluorescent lights. Her heels echoed as she looked at the room numbers trying to locate the one she needed.

Ms. Jensen had gotten up to stretch her legs before her last parent conference and casually stepped into the doorway hearing the approaching woman and deciding to greet her. The young teacher took one look at the woman and ducked back into her room.

No, no, no, this couldn't be happening, the teacher thought. Please just let her walk by. She might not be coming here. Her fears were realized, however, when the woman stepped through the door and stopped suddenly, her eyes locking onto the shorter blonde woman with her hair up in a bun.

The two just looked at each other for a long few seconds. The new arrival was tall, almost six feet, with a perfect figure that spoke of long hours at the gym. Her dark brown hair with blonde highlights fell loosely over her shoulders to curl in at the ends like arrows pointing at the ample cleavage on display there. She took off her sunglasses and smiled devilishly down at the smaller woman.

Ms. Ashleigh Jensen had stopped breathing, her mouth falling open. She stood there in her loose white buttondown and gray slacks no longer able to form words.

The taller woman broke the ice.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," she said. "So you are Erica's French teacher?"

Ashleigh's mind struggled. That was a question. To her. The young teacher's two worlds collided in her head and warred with how to respond.

"Y..yes...," then a long pause. "Mistress."

In the end, she fell back onto what would be the easiest, back on her training that this very woman had instilled. Her head bowed and she looked down at her feet.

Her Mistress was right here in her classroom. Ms. Jensen's emotions were all over the place and jumping from being mortified to being aroused. She had fantasized about being dominated at school but had always relegated that to the category of 'never going to happen.' It was way too risky and would require an incredible circumstance to even be possible. Now, her Mistress, the woman who had fulfilled so many of her darkest, secret desires, was standing in front of her in Ashleigh's classroom.

"P..please close the door and lock it, m...ma'am," Ms. Jensen requested meekly.

The dark-haired woman looked back at the open door and then returned her gaze to the teacher. Her head cocked to the side and she put her hands on her hips.

"Really?" she asked, incredulous. She stepped closer and lifted the teacher's chin to look up at her. "You greedy little slut."

Ashleigh felt the warmth between her legs increase at the woman's touch and humiliating words.

"I'm here to talk about my daughter and you're expecting a session?"

Her words stung and Ashleigh suddenly realized how presumptuous she was acting.

"No, ma'am, I mean, yes, I'm sorry,... Mistress," she fumbled.

The hand holding her chin flung it to the side in disgust as the woman walked past the small blonde and took a seat facing the teacher's desk that had clearly been put there for these conferences. She crossed her legs and arms.

"Today I am Ms. Peters, understand? And I'm here to find out what is going on with my daughter," the woman announced to Ashleigh's back.

The young teacher did her best to reset her mental role and turned around. Seeing her Mistress sitting in the parent's chair, made her feel uneasy. The chairs were situated in front of the desk partially to put the teacher into the dominant spot behind the desk. That dynamic just felt wrong right now, so she pulled the second chair over and sat, not behind her desk, but beside and slightly facing the older woman. She put her shoulders back, folded her hands in her lap, and reminded herself that this was just one of her student's parents.

"Ms. Peters, th..thank you for coming to speak with me," Ms. Jensen began, attempting to get into her usual routine. "I know your time is valuable so I will be as brief as possible."

Ashleigh tried to look her Mistress in the eyes but it only lasted a second. Instead, she looked at the woman's lips and just barreled on.

"Erica has been getting consistent fours and fives on assessments all year but in this last semester she has stopped turning in work and her test scores are suffering as a result."

Ashleigh paused expecting Ms. Peters to ask some question or make a comment at this revelation. She just sat there.

"It...could be just a lack of motivation that happens in their Upper 6th. Once kids get this close to finishing and are legally adults they often start slacking off on their work," the teacher continued. "If she doesn't get back on track, it could jeopardize her grade and could even result in her failing the class."

"I see," Ms. Peters replied looking pensive.

She uncrossed her legs and arms, folding her hands on her lap matching the teacher's posture.

"When I spoke to her about this," Ashleigh went on, "she was...dismissive." In truth, the headstrong eighteen-year-old had loudly said something about no one caring about French and that she would never need it.

"Of course she was," the woman said derisively. Apparently, her daughter's attitude was not a surprise. "What do you suggest I do to correct the problem?"

"Well, uh, you could start by trying to impress on her the importance of finishing the year strong in order to pass her final examination. Beyond that," Ashleigh continued, "I'm afraid that she is getting far enough behind that she may need tutoring to catch up."

The parent got a thoughtful look and smirked.

"Brilliant," the brunette smiled. "I will talk with her and you will tutor her."

The teacher's eyes went wide and she blinked several times.

"Uh, n...," she almost said 'no' then switched gears. "I don't do tutoring, M..Ms. Peters but I can find a good set of possible ones for Erica."

"How much?" The Mistress asked crossing her legs again.

"Excuse me?"

"How much would it cost for you to tutor my daughter?" the woman clarified.

That was not something she wanted to do regardless of the money so she decided to inflate the sum to an amount she felt would be rejected.

"Oh, um, a certified teacher in the subject area can ask seventy-five to a hundred pounds per hour," she replied.

It was not quite a lie. She might could ask that but it was stretching the sixty to seventy-pound average. The older woman's smile broadened.

"How about this?" she began. "I will trade you one-for-one. One hour of tutoring for one hour of my...services."

Ashleigh's eyes went wide and her mouth opened briefly before she regained control and closed it. She wasn't sure what a professional dominatrix could ask per hour but she was certain it was in the hundreds. As far as she knew, Ms. Peters wasn't a professional but she probably could be if it was something she wanted. In that moment, memories of her interactions with this woman came flooding back.

Ashleigh had been nineteen at the time and just beginning to come to grips with her desire for women and her need to be controlled. She had gone onto a website that catered to connecting people with similar fetishes and found a kindred spirit in Elizabeth, Liz, Peters. They met at a coffee shop in London and began a year-long relationship.

In that time, Ashleigh learned all about what it meant to be a submissive to a conscientious but demanding Mistress. The older woman took her from being a naive, questioning university student to a well-trained sex slave.

The student teacher would have gladly continued that relationship but Mistress Liz had ended it. The older woman had said that it was for personal family reasons but Ashleigh never knew what those were or if that was even the truth.

Three years had passed since their parting and Ashleigh had failed to find anyone else to take Liz's place. Even though she missed that relationship desperately, she hadn't searched that hard. As a teacher, there was some risk in having a kink that polite society deemed objectionable even if it was completely private between consenting adults. If it ever got out, no matter what people said about protecting personal privacy, it could mean her career.

But she missed it so, so much! The offer to rekindle that relationship was too much to pass up. She would be careful and she trusted Liz without question. She had never done anything to put Ashleigh in any danger that she had not agreed to.

"Well, pet?" the brunette's voice brought Ms. Jensen out of her musings abruptly. "Is it a deal?"

The look on the woman's face said that she already knew what the answer would be and just needed Ashleigh to make it official.

"Ahh...alright," the young teacher agreed just barely audible.

Her heart was pounding and her pussy felt warm at the prospect of what was to come. Liz rose and took the half step needed to stand just beside the still dazed teacher who just looked up at her with wild, excited eyes.

"Monday then. I'll make sure Erica knows to come to your classroom after school." Mistress Liz announced. "You train my daughter...then I train you."

Their eyes locked as Liz gently cupped Ashleigh's cheek in her hand.

"Thank you, Mistress," Ashleigh breathed as Liz pulled her head to press against the older woman's stomach.

"Such a good girl," she praised and stroked the top of her head. "Eight o'clock on Monday. I'll send you my address."

The young teacher closed her eyes and sighed.

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Monday rolled around and Ms. Jensen went through her day like any other. At least to outside observers. Internally, she was nervous and excited about her evening with Ms. Peters. Mistress Liz, she corrected herself. She had taken special care that morning, putting her hair into a perfect bun and even applying makeup that she rarely bothered with just for school. She chose a skirt that would accentuate her trim waist and modest hips. Even her top was tighter than she usually wore trying to make her 34B breasts look as inviting as possible.

Her controlled excitement for the evening changed as her final hour class started and Erica walked into the room in the midst of several other girls. Ashleigh didn't know how she could have missed the resemblance she had to her mother. The teacher had never known Liz's last name and, until now, had never considered that she would ever be in a classroom with her Mistress' daughter, so she could be forgiven for missing it.

Erica, like her mother, had dark brown hair, almost black. While her mother's was shoulder length, the daughter had let hers reach all the way down her back. She was currently wearing it in a long ponytail. She was also a member of the track team and had the body of an athlete although her hips and breasts gave her curves that any woman would envy...or desire. Not that you could see much of that behind the school blazer and tie. Her skirt, however, was slightly shorter than most of her peers and showed off her legs wonderfully.

Ms. Jensen caught herself regarding the young woman for a couple of seconds too long and looked at her pretty face just as the girl turned her head and met the teacher's gaze. There was a sternness there that reminded her so much of the girl's mother. That was not the casual look of a student coming into a classroom. There was malice behind those eyes and Ashleigh immediately knew that Erica was not happy about having to stay after school.

The class went on as usual except for the constant scowl on Erica's face. The young teacher avoided addressing her or, for that matter, looking at her but taught, otherwise, without disruption.

As the class ended, all of the other students filed out leaving Erica and Ms. Jensen alone. With her friends no longer there to put on a show of defiance for, the scowl had turned into tired boredom.

The young teacher leaned against and half sat on her desk looking at the resigned beauty in front of her. Most students would have looked away but not Erica, she just stared back. It wasn't defiance or a challenge, Ashleigh noted, just an absence of fear or embarrassment.

"So, are we going to do this or not," the girl finally spoke up.

The teacher pushed off her desk and grabbed her tablet before walking to take the desk next to the dark-haired teen.

"First, I want to show you something," she started, holding up the tablet for Erica to see. "These are your marks over the course of this year."

Several line graphs filled the screen all looking very similar. The lines started relatively high and fluctuated but were mostly consistent. That was until the most recent month. All of the lines dipped drastically into the lower part of the scale.

"What happened, Erica?" Ms. Jensen asked. "About a month ago, you just stopped doing work."

The girl leaned back, crossed her arms, and smirked.

"I figured out what I want to do and it doesn't involve university," she answered.

"And what if that doesn't work out?"

The teen rolled her eyes and mumbled.

"It's already working out."

"What was that?" the teacher prodded.

"Nothing," Erica sighed. "I just don't need...this anymore." She waved her hands to indicate the school in general before folding her arms again.

"Well, you have to be here so you might as well learn something," Ashleigh said.

"You have one thing right," Erica said with an air of resignation, "I have to be here...or my mum will turn off my phone service."

At least her mother was putting some teeth behind these sessions, the teacher thought.

"Erica, do you know why I teach French?" Ms. Jensen asked. The girl just stared back clearly not inclined to answer. "Because I think people are too isolated in their tiny little bubbles of the world and one of the best ways to have some empathy for others is to understand their language and culture." Ashleigh put her hand on top of Erica's on the desk. "I want that for you."

The brunette looked down at her teacher's hand resting on top of her own and her features loosened.

"Yeah, okay," she nodded slightly.

"Let's get started then, shall we," Ms. Jensen suggested.

===========

Later that night, Ashleigh parked on the street some ways away from the address she had been given. All the houses in this area were huge and had a decent amount of land between them. The blonde woman rechecked the address on her phone and confirmed she was in the right place.

The home before her was beautiful with a mix of stone and brick walls that gave it a castle-like feel without the turrets. To her eyes, It was opulent and immaculately maintained with shaped bushes and perfectly trimmed grass. The driveway was wide and ended in a large circle with a small fountain in the center. There was a garage directly at the end that looked like it might also serve as additional living quarters judging by the size and that it had a second level. The main house dominated the view, however, just to the left of the circle.

She looked at her phone again more out of habit and comfort than a need to read the instructions. There should be a door on the south side. Ashleigh took a moment to orient herself then proceeded to walk a surprisingly long way to the opposite side of the home from the driveway. There she found a single door at the bottom of a set of stairs leading down below ground level. She looked around making sure there wasn't some other entrance, then proceeded down the stairs to the almost hidden door.

Following the instructions, she looked up at the small camera in the corner and heard a faint click as the door unlocked. Ashleigh stepped into a small entryway lined on one side with shelves, bins, and hooks for storage. A mirror leaned against the wall at an angle just beside the door leading further into the mansion. In addition, one of the bins had been pulled out and sat on a short bench across from the shelves.

The young teacher stepped to it and peeked in. At the bottom of the bin lay several strips of leather each with a solid metal buckle and a D-ring. Absently she reached in and ran a finger along the edge of one. The soft, smooth feel brought back memories. The scariest and most exhilarating moments of her life had happened while wearing bands just like these, maybe these very cuffs.

Ashleigh looked to the corner of the room and spotted another small camera. She trusted Liz but her next task still got her heart racing. She reread the instructions for the umpteenth time before placing her phone on one of the shelves and turning her back to the camera. She knew there was no point in being modest but couldn't bring herself to face the device as she began to remove her clothes. The woman mechanically removed one garment after another, folding each one and placing it on the shelf beside her phone. In a couple of minutes, she was completely nude.

She looked over her shoulder at the camera before reaching for the first of the leather cuffs. It felt warm to the touch and Ashleigh bit her lip to cut off any sound she might make as she wrapped the band around her wrist and fastened it in place. Just as methodically, the blonde teacher fastened a cuff on each of her limbs until there was only one piece left in the bin. She retrieved it and heard a little jingle. She brought the collar up to see that it included a small metal tag shaped like a cartoon bone.

Ashleigh held the tag closer and read the inscription.

Mistress Liz's Pet

A tiny whimper escaped the teacher's throat despite her attempts to stay quiet. Her insides felt like butterflies and her sex was burning already. Ashleigh lifted the collar to her delicate neck and secured the buckle in place then took a deep breath. As she exhaled, her status as a respected teacher drifted away leaving her as nothing more than a pet.

Ashleigh closed her eyes feeling her muscles relax even as her skin became extra sensitive. The old conditioning came flooding back and she smiled before opening her eyes again and pivoting around to face the mirror. She went to her knees in front of it, spread her legs wide, and rested her hands on her thighs.

As she lowered her head, the reason for the position of the mirror became evident. Even looking down, the woman was still forced to regard herself in the mirror. There was no way to deny her new status with her most private parts on full display along with the pet collar she had put onto her own neck.

As the seconds and then minutes passed, Ashleigh didn't dare look up at the camera even as she wondered if anyone was watching her. Someone had opened the door...or was that just automatic? Was this a test of her obedience?

Just as she was about to speak up and ask if anyone was there, the blonde heard the click-clack of high heels approaching the door from the other side. She put her shoulders back and looked at the floor between her knees.

The door swung open and a pair of black stilettos entered. In the stilettos was a pair of legs clad in black hose that Ashleigh was very familiar with. The young teacher just continued to wait forcing herself not to look up or even move. Several heartbeats later, the older woman spoke.

"Good girl," she cooed in a singsong voice usually reserved for toddlers or pets. But that was exactly what Ashleigh was, a pet.

The blonde's body flushed and her pussy twitched with the sensation that those words and their meaning caused deep in her psyche. These reactions surfaced before she had met Liz but it was this woman who had shown her what they were. It was Liz who taught her to embrace this part of herself and, consequently, how to have the greatest sex she could imagine.