Teacher's Pet

They are in a class, stuck behind wooden desks, stained by years of ink and engraved with the initials of pupils long gone.

The rows are tiered, with hardly any legroom: he has to sit with his knees wide apart so that he doesn't knock into the woman in front, she keeps sliding around in her seat, unable to get comfortable.

Another sub slides into the seat next to him and smiles. Her Dom makes some joke about being between two subs. Immediately she feels her hackles come up. She has so little of him that what she has she is not prepared to share. And even if she had more, she ponders, she still would not want someone else to dilute the intensity she enjoys so much.

She looks at the sub. Her immediate reaction is to grab her by the throat, bare her teeth and rip the lifeblood out of her. A more sensible and satisfying choice would be to lean over, smile sweetly and tell her to "fuck off".

But she does neither of these things. Instead, she finds herself rising out of her seat and walking over to the teacher at the front of the class. She offers herself as a guinea pig for the lesson, looking over at her Sir as she does so.

The teacher motions for her to kneel, which she does. Surprisingly, this doesn't feel submissive. It's a role she feels comfortable in, in her old capacity as Teacher's Pet. It's a position she adopted much of the way through Grammar school: from the English teacher who introduced her to to Hardy and treated her as a substitute daughter, to the older history teacher with a penchant for Fascism who took her to expensive restaurants and the opera, to the RE teacher who would embarassingly serenade her in the corridor in front of her sniggering friends. Kneeling like this feels like coming home.

But then she feels a collar being placed around her neck. This one is not like her own collar. This is velcro and feels like it's strangling her. It makes her feel itchy; not just around her neck, but all over.

She's looking at her Dom who is staring back at her, impassive. The sub next to him, however, is goggling wide eyed with her mouth open.

And then she can hear the lead. It's not her lead but it sounds similar. Almost at once she feels her body respond. She has been conditioned to this, but the roaring in her ears, the wetness in her shorts, they just don't feel right when she is here and her Dom over there.

Her palms start to sweat and she is annoyed at herself for putting herself in this position. How stupid of her to think that this was a good idea. She wonders what her Dom is thinking of her now. Is he bemused, angry, shocked? His face gives nothing away and she feels herslef being pulled into a vacuum, further and further away from him.

And then she hears it, that familiar sound of a zip being undone. It's the teacher behind her. She has barely registered him up until now, but she realises with a start what he is expecting. She cen feel the sweat on her upper lip now. She doesn't want to do this but these feelings of submission are almost overpowering, she's not sure she can say no.

She feels the teacher getting closer and closer. She's looking straight at her Dom now, pleading with him to say something, to do something but he is silent, motionless. She wonders if he wants to see what she'll do. If he's playing some peverse game of chicken with her. Even if he was, she wouldn't blame him, she has got herself into this mess.

She can sense the teacher's body heat so close now. She can feel his hand as it reaches out for her hair, ready to twist her towards him. She's straining against the leash but that's all she can do. And then she sees it, an almost imperceptible shake of the head: so tiny you would only see it if you were looking for it. He has said no. Overwhelmed with relief, she scampers back to Him, kneeling by his side and laying her head on his knee. He strokes her hair softly and she clings to his calf, shaking, close to tears, until he leans down, pulls her head back to reveal her upturned face, and kisses them away.