Whores de Ballet
Chapter 4
The incessant buzzing woke Isabel and she looked blearily at the clock which told her it was six in the morning, but it was Sunday and with relief she hit the stop and returned to the ghosts that haunted the black void of her dreams.
When she finally woke, her dreams still shrouding her mind with images she daren’t examine, the clock informed her it was gone twelve. She rose like a sleepwalker and showered, concentrating on nothingness, trying to prevent the powerful images that had so strongly taken over both her body and her mind.
She pulled on a robe and went down to the kitchen. Through the window she saw Jane lying in the garden on a sunlounger in her tiny yellow bikini and she instantly looked away, reciting the seven times table. She knew she daren’t go outside and that at any minute Jane might come in, and Isabel really couldn’t trust herself. Quickly she went upstairs and got dressed.
Back in the kitchen she opened the window with her eyes closed and called. “I’m just going out for a bit, don’t stay in the sun too long. See you later.”
Before Jane could reply Isabel had locked the window and was heading for the door, exerting a Herculean effort to stop herself thinking about Jane getting too hot and asking Isabel to help apply some after sun.
Once in the car and driving nowhere in particular, Isabel found that concentrating on the road helped to clear her mind, although she looked straight ahead every time she passed a young woman for fear of triggering one of the vivid fantasies.
By the time Isabel returned, it was nearly midnight, and because she had school the following day Jane had already gone to bed, although she was still awake, waiting anxiously to hear her mom get home. Normally Isabel would have popped her head around Jane’s door, but she really didn’t want to expose herself to temptation, so she crept to bed quietly, carrying a half bottle of vodka she’d bought on the way home, hoping the alcohol would help to get her to sleep.
The spirit did its thing and the next thing Isabel knew was Jane softly shaking her shoulder and saying. “Mom, its eight o’clock, I’ve got to go to school, I don’t want to be late as I’ve got double English this morning with Miss Carlton. I’ve left the coffee pot on. I’ll see you tonight.”
Before Isabel could stop her, Jane had bent and kissed her moms forehead. Through sleep-blurred eyes Isabel couldn’t quite see the clothes Jane was wearing to school, although the skirt did seem a little short and the white shinny blouse a bit tight, and those black Mary-Jane’s over white lace trimmed ankle socks were just so cute. Isabel let out a soft moan as her body started to tingle and her mind went blank for a second before igniting a vision so real she couldn’t separate fantasy from reality.
Jane giggled as she unfolded the note she had been passed by Theresa and read ‘I think Miss Carlton is a dyke, don’t you?’ She looked at her English teacher who was currently writing their assignment for that week on the blackboard. If asked, Jane would have named Miss Carlton her favourite teacher; she always took an interest in what her pupils were doing, and for Jane that meant a lot. About as old as Jane’s mom but in wonderful shape, Jane had to admit she was pretty, she just wished she didn’t look, and during class act, so severe with her auburn hair in a tight bun and her dark rimmed spectacles. But Jane had never thought she was gay, but then again, who knew?
Jane looked at Theresa who winked and whispered ‘pass it over to Tara.’ Jane refolded the note and held it out to the small redhead to her right, making a ‘whisting’ sound to try and attract her attention. With the note in open view Theresa opened the lid of her antique wooden desk a couple of inches and let it snap shut with a resounding ‘clap’.
Miss Carlton spun around on hearing the noise; she insisted on her charges being quiet at all times during her lessons unless they were answering one of her questions. The first thing she saw was Jane Wearing’s arm rapidly retracting, a piece of paper obvious in her hand.
“Jane Wearing!” Miss Carlton shouted, making Jane and the rest of the class jump. “Stand up.”
With a glance of hatred directed at a grinning Theresa, Jane slowly stood to her feet, her cheeks burning a bright red.
Turning to face the class properly and pushing her glasses up on her nose Miss Carlton pointed to a spot on the floor in front of her. Jane didn’t need words to know she had been summoned and the blush burnt brighter as she tried to surreptitiously drop the damning note on to her chair.
“Bring the piece of paper with you.” Miss Carlton said in her soft, low and very commanding voice that all the girls in the class recognised as meaning she was in no mood for any of their ‘antics.’
Retrieving the note, Jane held it in her rapidly sweating palm, hoping it would dissolve before she reached the waiting teacher; it didn’t, and reluctantly she held it out in response to Miss Carlton’s outstretched hand.
With the note delivered, Jane hung her head, toying with the hem of her short grey pleated skirt and looking at Miss Carlton’s strappy black sandals that displayed her painted toenails perfectly; the three-inch metal heels making her ankles look trim.
Jane looked up her teacher’s nylon clad legs to the hem of her tight, mid calf length pencil skirt, the fine dark material seeming to mould itself to her long toned legs. A broad black patent belt with a diamante buckle separated the skirt from her white satin blouse. Through her eyelashes that were level with Miss Carlton’s black velvet choker with its cameo broach, Jane looked further up to bright red lips that were not smiling.
“Take this and return to your seat.” Miss Carlton said as she handed the note to Jane after appending something in her neat fluid hand. Jane read the curly script and her heart sank. ‘Remain after class and we shall discuss this further.’
As Jane walked disconsolately back to her desk, the rest of the class avoided her gaze, all except a still grinning Theresa, who whispered as Jane sat down. “That will teach you, miss posh ballerina!“
Jane ignored her and just wished the ground would open up and swallow her; her only consolation being the fact that if she got the sponsorship, she wouldn’t have to come here any longer and put up with the taunts about her beloved dancing. Through tear soaked eyes she looked at the board and copied the instructions Miss Carlton had returned to writing.
When the bell went, Jane, like all the other girls in her class, put her books in her bag and headed for the door, trying to be as inconspicuous as she could. It didn’t work of course, Miss Carlton allowed her to get as far as the door before calling her name. She stopped and felt a hand squeeze hers encouragingly and looked to see Tara smiling, not a smile of triumph like the one Theresa wore but one that offered sympathy and possibly, solidarity.
Jane returned the smile sadly as Tara let go of her hand and left with the others, leaving Jane and Miss Carlton alone. “Please close and lock the door.” Miss Carlton said softly, and with a sigh Jane did as she was told, the click of the lock sealing her fate, totally cutting her off from the outside world because Miss Carlton had put a poster over the small window advertising a production of ‘The Taming Of The Shrew’. A smiling Petruchio stood next to a kneeling redheaded Katherine, who still managed to look defiant despite the red cloth gag preventing her from speaking.
As Jane turned, Miss Carlton once more pointed to the floor in front of her as she rested her pert backside against the lip of her large oak desk, her slim ankles crossed daintily.
“So.” Miss Carlton said as Jane stood before her. “Shall we discuss the note you were passing to Tara?”
“I didn’t write it, Miss. Honest.” Jane pleaded her innocence.
“I know that, I have been your English teacher for the last three years, if I don’t recognise my girls’ handwriting I don’t know who would. However you were the one passing it to Tara, although I strongly suspect it was actually penned by Theresa even if she did try to disguise her hand.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. It won’t happen again I promise.”
“There is no question of it happening again.” Miss Carlton said as she idly picked up a wooden ruler from her desk and flexed it almost to breaking point between her hands. “What we are here to talk over is this occurrence.”
“I said I was sorry, Miss.” Jane tried again, but it was obviously not going to work.
Jane’s worst fears were realised as Miss Carlton, still flexing the ruler, asked. “Do you know what a dyke is, Jane.”
Jane hated talking about sex, she kept thinking her mom was going to sit her down for that all important ‘birds and bees’ chat that mothers and daughters were supposed to have, and up till now she had been spared, but now she had to talk about it with her teacher!
Swallowing hard, Jane managed to say. “It’s a slang term for lesbians, Miss.”
“Very good; and lesbians are?” Miss Carlton enquired.
“They are women who have sex with other women, Miss.” Jane almost stammered she was so embarrassed. The temperature of the room felt like it had increased several degrees, especially next to Jane’s cheeks.
“So according to your note.” Miss Carlton began, adding as Jane started to protest. “The note you were passing too Tara, you think that I am a woman who likes having sex with other women, is that correct?”
“That’s what the note said, Miss, but I don’t really think that.” Jane defended herself.
“So, then I can only assume that you wanted Tara to think that I was, probably on account of her sexuality, you were wanting to tease the shy girl with thoughts of having sex with her teacher, is that the case?” Miss Carlton parried for the prosecution.
“But Tara isn’t a...” Jane started to object but when she thought about it, she realised that she quite possibly was and not only that but seemed to have a crush on Jane as well. Jane was old enough to know that these sorts of things did happen, especially in an all girls’ school, she just hadn’t put two and two together.
“I didn’t think.” Jane admitted, remembering the squeeze of hands and the consoling look as Tara left.
“Finally we get to the truth of it.” Miss Carlton noted, slapping the ruler in to the palm of her hand with a resounding splat that made Jane jump. “And what if I am a lesbian, does that make me any less of a teacher? I have had to put up with the sneers of ignorant little girls throughout most of my career, I moved here to get away from them, so you can imagine how I felt when I read that note.”
It took a couple of seconds for the import of what Miss Carlton had said to sink through to Jane’s consciousness, bringing forth an involuntary gasp as it finally hit home. It had never occurred to Jane, and probably not to Theresa either that Miss Carlton might actually be a lesbian.
“You see how your thoughtless actions have consequences, Jane? I mean here you are locked in a room with a woman who has just admitted to you that she likes to have sexual relations with members of her own sex.”
Jane felt more vulnerable than she could ever remember being in her whole life; even worse than when one of the drunken guests at a party she and her mom were catering had tried to grope her as she was alone in the kitchen pouring some drinks. At least then her mom was there to protect her and knee the creep in the balls as she came in and surprised Jane’s assailant. But here she was totally alone and as she glanced at Miss Carlton she could see her teachers hard nipples pushing against the silky material of her blouse and knew she was the cause.
“You can’t touch me, there are rules.” Jane bluffed, wondering what Miss Carlton would do if she made a run for the door.
Miss Carlton smiled as she pushed herself off the edge of the desk and picked up a small golden key on a long chain from out of the pot where she kept her pens. “Rules, yes there are lots of rules, miss Wearing.
“Did you know at my previous school I also taught law as well as English?” Miss Carlton asked rhetorically as she unlocked the tall thin wooden cabinet that stood against the wall near the door.
“No of course you didn’t, how could you.” She reasoned as she took out of the cupboard a long black academic gown and tasselled mortarboard. As she removed the items Jane was almost certain she saw a long curved handled cane, just like you see in some old movies, but Miss Carlton closed the door before she could be sure.
“For instance, did you know.” Miss Carlton asked as she put on the cap and gown, fixing the ungainly headwear with a couple of Kirby grips before removing the large metal key from the classroom door. “That the rules actually state that all teachers with a degree should wear academic dress when teaching, and especially if they are supervising a pupils punishment?”
Jane of course didn’t know that, but the school was founded years ago and she suspected that a lot of rules were now more honoured in the breach than in the observance.
Now correctly dressed to administer punishment, Miss Carlton set about finding a very good reason to do just that. “I’m sure you are however aware of section 56 of the school regulations, the one that deals with the schools uniform policy. In particular sub section twelve that states, ‘Pupils will only wear items of clothing prescribed in Appendix B’. Well are you au fait with that section, miss Wearing?”
“Yes, miss.” Jane replied, not quite certain where this was heading, she knew that she was okay on that front.
“And have you read the said appendix lately?” Miss Carlton asked as she flicked the hem of Jane’s skirt with her ruler.
“Yes miss.” Jane affirmed. “White blouse, grey skirt, white socks and black shoes.”
Miss Carlton smiled indulgently. “That is not its exact wording though is it, Jane? What it actually states is, ‘A white cotton blouse, a light grey pleated skirt no shorter than one-inch above the knee, white knee length socks and black lace up shoes.’
“Tell me, miss Wearing is your blouse cotton?” Miss Carlton asked as she rubbed a small portion of the obviously man made fibre between her finger and thumb making Jane step back pulling her blouse free from her teachers grip.
“I don’t know, Miss.” Jane admitted and pulled the bottom of her blouse out from her skirt and looked at the care label that informed her it was one hundred percent polyester.
“Well?” Miss Carlton enquired, tapping the ruler against her palm menacingly.
“No Miss.” Jane admitted, “It’s not cotton, it’s synthetic.”
“I see; then following the rules you yourself invoked, you shouldn’t be wearing it should you?”
Jane bit her lip, but the increased speed with which Miss Carlton was slapping the ruler against the palm of her hand informed her, as well as words ever could, that her teacher was waiting for an answer. “No, miss.” She reluctantly conceded.
“Then you had better take it off.” Miss Carlton said, somehow managing to keep her voice soft, gentle and low, just as the bard prescribed.
“You can’t be serious.” Jane spluttered.
“Oh but I am, my dear. I am very serious indeed. Take it off now or your punishment will be all the harder.”
“You can’t make me do this.” Jane sobbed softly even as she undid the buttons and slipped her shirt off. Conscious of her tutor’s eyes that seemed to be fixed on her pert little breasts that weren’t yet big enough to need a bra; Jane covered them with her arms.
“Good girl.” Miss Carlton encouraged, very pleased that Jane’s arms were otherwise engaged as she took the ruler and measured the distance between the hem of Jane’s skirt and her knees, a full four inches, even taking the distance from the top of her very shapely knee.
“Nowhere near long enough, my girl. Take that off as well.” Miss Carlton said sternly, her voice and demeanour telling Jane she would brook no arguments.
With one arm still covering her delightfully small breasts, Jane tried to release the clip that fastened the wrap around skirt, but it was impossible one handed, and so the ever helpful Miss Carlton said. “Here let me.”
With the fastening undone the heavy material fell away, sliding over Jane’s firm buttocks and exposing her white cotton panties until her free hand covered them.
“Of course the shoes and socks are not regulation either; but I think I have made my point don’t you, Jane?” Miss Carlton asked.
“What point?” Jane sobbed, looking through rapidly watering eyes.
“The point that it is not nice to be humiliated, and this is when there is just the two of us in this locked room, imagine what it would feel like to be derided in front of a class of school girls as you tried to do to me and Tara?”
“I understand, Miss, and I really am sorry, Miss.” Jane blubbed, wanting to wipe the tell tale tears from her eyes but not wanting to uncover her decency.
“Good.” Miss Carlton said. “Now about your punishment.”
“B..But I th..thought this was my p..punishment, Miss.” Jane cried, the tears now flowing quite freely.
“Ah but I thought when you mentioned rules earlier you were referring to the amended rules on corporal punishment, the ones that now state that a teacher shall under no circumstances lay either a hand or any implement on a student as a form of punishment. Wasn’t that what you were alluding to?”
Relieved that her teacher was aware of that particular new rule, Jane found her voice again. “So what do you intend to do to p..punish me, Miss?”
“Oh I intend to put you over my knee and spank your pretty little arse.” Miss Carlton said a little triumphantly as she drew from the pocket of her gown a pair of black velvet opera gloves.
“B..But you c..can’t! You just s..said so!” Jane objected. But in this court, Miss Carlton was acting not only as prosecutor, but also as judge, jury and executioner.
With deliberate slowness Miss Carlton wiggled her fingers into the tight fitting gloves before pulling them up to her elbows in a well-practiced fashion. “I said I couldn’t lay a hand on you, my darling, and because I’m wearing these lovely gloves I won’t. Rules are all about interpretation. And anyway, I have a get out clause, the one that allows corporal punishment if it is sanctioned by the girl’s legal guardian, and as this was your moms idea.”
Jane’s face turned white. “S..She wouldn’t!” Jane wanted to scream the denial but it ended up coming out like a plea for reassurance.
Miss Carlton smiled as she lifted her hand, her index finger outstretched and placed it against Jane’s trembling lips, a soft “shhh” escaping her pouting mouth. “Oh but she did, the last parents’ evening, she told me she thought you needed a little discipline, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she asked me if I would.”
The finger across Jane’s mouth descended, following the line of her chin, down her throat and as Miss Carlton moved slowly around her captive, she traced across Jane’s delicate collarbone until she stood behind her, the gloved fingers resting on Jane’s upper arm.
Jane felt Miss Carlton’s other hand stroke softly over her panty covered buttocks before moving upwards, resting a few moments at the base of her spine before continuing up the delicate, dancer poised S of her backbone, then out to mirror the other at the top of Jane’s arm.
Resting her head on Jane’s shoulder Miss Carlton gently pulled the young girl back to rest against her wonderfully firm bosom, her mouth so close to Jane’s ear that she could feel her teachers warm breath as she whispered. “I would have done it sooner only I needed to enlist the delicious little Tara to help me.”
Jane was devastated, betrayed not only by her mom but also by the girl she considered her friend, her mind was screaming that it wasn’t true but her voice seemed to have deserted her. She didn’t even notice at first when Miss Carlton’s gloved hands started to move down her arms as she confided. “Not that I didn’t enjoy turning Tara of course; she was such a sweet, innocent little thing, and she tastes divine.”
The soft velvet hands continued to caress Jane’s arms, the left going straight down, the right turning at Jane’s elbow before moving across her chest. Taking hold of Jane’s wrists, and gently, but firmly moving them away from the treasures they protected she breathed. “No need to be shy with me, honey. Your mom told me what a little slut you can be sometimes, always running around the house half naked, practicing your ballet where she can watch you, your lovely supple limbs and tasty pert breasts teasing her.”
“Its not true.” Jane sobbed as her hands were moved behind her back, wrists crossed in the small of her back.
“Shhh.” Miss Carlton soothed. “All that matters now is that we are here, just as your mom wanted and just as me and Tara planned, the little minx wanted to watch, just as I’m sure your mom would if she could.”
A soft piece of silk cloth was dexterously wound around Jane’s wrists, tight enough to restrain but soft enough to cause no pain. Then Miss Carlton’s hands snaked over the young girls body, making it tingle despite her predicament, her soft pink, puffy nipples darkening as they hardened. “See.” She teased, her tongue flicking her captives ear lobe. “Just like your mom said, you like me touching you, perhaps you are pretending it’s your sexy mom doing this to you.”
Pressing her pussy against Jane’s firm, spankable buttocks, Miss Carlton cupped the girl’s breasts, covering them in warm dark velvet, her palms pressing against the aroused nipples, her fingers kneading the soft flesh. “Mmm” she breathed, her hot breath on her ear making Jane shudder. “Just right, nice and firm; ripe and ready for tasting. But not just yet, first we have to do what your pretty mom wanted us to do.”
Jane shuddered as she felt Miss Carlton’s glossy lips kiss the side of her throat before the fondling hands were removed and Miss Carlton was no longer pressing her sexy body against her, but nimble fingers were playing with her long blonde hair, twisting strands into a central plait. “There. Now you look like a proper ballerina.”
With the tail of the makeshift plait tickling Jane’s back between her shoulder blades, she stood, waiting submissively for her tutor to fetch the hard backed chair from behind her desk and position it next to Jane. Holding the edges of her tight skirt, to keep it smooth over her thighs, Miss Carlton sat and patted the tops of her thighs saying, “Across here, please, miss Wearing.”
Jane didn’t know what to do, what could she do, her mom had asked this woman to spank her, and so she bit her lower lip to stop it trembling and complied, her flat stomach in contact with her teachers thighs, her breasts hanging free over the side. Miss Carlton adjusted Jane’s position, ensuring the young girls pussy was pressing against her thigh, her head hanging lower to present her firm buttocks to Miss Carlton’s experienced hands, her feet two foot apart making her balance on her tip toes, the muscles in her legs taught like cords. Satisfied, the teacher announced that the punishment could begin.
Every muscle in Jane’s toned body tensed, awaiting the first spank. But all that happened was Miss Carlton began stroking the clenched buttocks beneath Jane’s cotton panties. “Just as your mom requested, I will spank you; and after each stroke you will say how many you have received so far and thank me, do you understand?”
Jane nodded, but Miss Carlton wanted to hear the words and so she said “Yes, I understand, Miss, you mean like ‘one, Miss. Thank you, Miss?’
Miss Carlton smiled and told Jane that was exactly what she meant and asked rhetorically. “Shall we start?”
This time the older woman didn’t wait for an answer; lifting her gloved hand she brought it down with a resounding splat as velvet met cotton. If Jane had thought that the soft material covering her teacher’s hand would soften the effect of the spanking she was sadly mistaken, and a cry of shock and pain escaped her, her knees buckling pressing her harder against her tormentor’s lap.
“You will keep your legs straight.” Miss Carlton instructed, emphasising the point by slapping the backs of Jane’s thighs adding. “And since you failed to count that one, we will start again, as we will each time you forget to count and thank me.”
Moving Jane’s tied hands back in to the small of her back, giving herself a clear view of the panty covered backside, Miss Carlton raised her hand again, pausing at the top of the arc before bringing it down on the still virgin buttock, expertly placing the spank in the same place as the first that had landed on the other cheek.
Her years of dance training allowed Jane to hold her legs straight and as soon as the cry of pain had died on her lips she said. “One, Miss. Thank you, Miss.” And was rewarded with a ‘Good girl’ and a gentle stroking that somehow seemed to magnify the heat in her arse.
Three more slaps followed in quick succession only allowing Jane time to count and thank her teacher. Then Miss Carlton paused stroking the warm cheeks, her gloved fingers slipping between Jane’s trembling thighs, rubbing against her cotton covered pussy. “I don’t think we need these anymore.” Miss Carlton said as she started to peel away the panties, exposing a pair of now rosy red cheeks, and started to move them down Jane’s thighs until they were fully stretched by the separated legs just above her knees. “I always think that is the perfect place for a school girl’s panties.” She observed before lifting her hand once more and delivering four hard slaps on the now bare flesh.
Miss Carlton was quite impressed with Jane’s stamina, most girls would have collapsed in a quivering heap on her lap by now, but Jane, for all her sobbing, managed to hold her legs in position perfectly. “I almost think you like this.” She mused as she let her index finger press against Jane’s pussy lips, her thumb touching the sphincter of the your girls anus.
She lifted the finger to her face, the velvet pile flattened and glistening with the first traces of Jane’s pussy juices. “Your mom was right, you are a little slut. I’m so pleased I accepted her offer.” Two more slaps landed, punctuated by Jane calling the score, although each word was now clipped, a breath taken between each.
Once more Miss Carlton teased the helpless girls pussy, as her other hand started to fondle her breasts making Jane moan softly. After four more strikes Miss Carlton’s finger slipped inside Jane, the sudden pleasure making her knees buckle just a little before she recovered her control. The hand playing with Jane’s tits suddenly moved, grasping the base of her plait and pulling her head back savagely. “You total little tease.” Miss Carlton sneered as her finger twisted and probed the girl’s dripping wet pussy. “You little fuck toy, coming on all innocent but inside you just want to be taken by older women, I bet you even want your mom to finger fuck you, you slut.”
The words hurt Jane more than the slaps or the hair pulling but despite herself she felt herself nearing orgasm. “That’s right my little slut, cum all over my velvety fingers, scream with pleasure as I fuck your slutty brains out.”
Jane’s cry of pleasure echoed across Isabel’s bedroom, harmonising with her own before she slipped into a semi-sleep, the scent of sex haunting and taunting Isabel as she cried with anguish, while Bella revelled in the fantasy, anticipating the reward she had been promised by her new mistress.