Finding Myself

She helped me pack and then I faced the hardest part of all.

Meg Dowland came across as a martinet but she was running one of the toughest schools in the state and succeeding at it. She had been remarkably tolerant and gave the impression that, young as I was, there might be something to be learned from me.

In my short stay I had certainly learned much from her and, in an odd way, I would miss her.

When I arrived at the office unannounced she told Gail to show me straight in and told her to make sure we were not disturbed.

She asked me to take a seat on the office sofa, the first time I had been afforded the privilege, and then she sat down beside me.

Before she spoke she removed her glasses. I could recall seeing her without them before and her eyes, thus revealed, were a beautiful shade of brown. It left me wondering why she did not wear lenses.

There was something else and it took me a second or two to put my finger on it. She normally kept her hair up with a barrette but, this morning, she wore it loose. The full, shoulder-length, auburn curls framed her face and were complimented by her subtle lipstick and eye shadow.

Why it should come as a shock I do not know but the Meg Dowland now revealed was actually a very attractive woman.

It occurred to me that, nearly every time we had spoken, she had been sitting behind her imposing desk and she had become imbued with the authority that it bestowed.

I struggled to remember anything distinctive that she might have worn but the truth was that, from day to day she was nondescript. She generally favoured interchangeable business suits but today was a little different.

She wore a simple, powder blue, blouse which was probably more expensive than it appeared. It was nicely tailored so that her ample bust was not over-emphasized and it flowed naturally from her trim waist to the swell of her hip.

If I had to guess I would have said that it came from a French fashion house which would accord with the dark skirt she was wearing. Its straight lines took it to within an inch of her knees in a mode that was all the rage in Europe before I came away.

In my mind, and perhaps because of the desk again, she was shorter than me but, in reality, she was actually a couple of inches taller but probably weighed little more.

Whilst all these thoughts were going through my head she began to speak.

"You've come to tell me that you're leaving?"

"How did you know?"

"I didn't, for sure, but I guess that, in your position, I might have come to the same decision."

"My position?"

She paused before replying.

"I've spent my whole career teaching; boys and girls, but mainly girls. Every school has its natural bullies but it also has its natural submissives, they just don't make the headlines but they are just as easily marked out.

From the first day I saw you I knew you were a submissive but, more importantly, I knew that you yourself were unaware of it."

"You're talking nonsense!"

She put her hand on mine.

"Don't misunderstand me. You are an excellent teacher and I was happy to have you. I gave you a few simple rules which I thought would keep you out of trouble. They didn't, and for that I apologize.

I still think that you have a wonderful career in front of you but you need to consider restricting yourself to an all boys environment."

"Are you suggesting that I'm not up to the job, not safe to be around girls?"

"Don't be angry. I personally think that there is a natural order to things. You are perfectly entitled to enjoy your own predilections. I am simply saying that you need to draw a clear line between your personal and your professional lives.

Perhaps it was because she had seen through me so easily that I was furious but I could not contain myself.

"You're saying I can't control myself!"

She looked at me for a second or two without speaking and then gave a gentle sigh.

She stood up slowly and then slowly began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't ask questions. Just watch."

She slipped her blouse off altogether and then deftly worked the clasp of her bra. My mouth fell open as she stood with her hands on her hips allowing me to stare at her breasts.

They were heavy and well rounded but it was her nipples that shocked me.

They were incredibly large shading from a deep pink at the centre to a pale rose where they formed an indistinct boundary with her lightly tanned skin.

Even unengorged they made my own seem insignificant and I felt my fingers twitch as I resisted a sudden compulsion to touch them.

I thought I saw a flicker of a smile and I had the impression that she could almost read my thoughts.

"Don't move."

She turned to the window and adjusted the slats of the blinds allowing some light but preventing anyone from seeing in.

When she was happy she returned to the sofa but this time standing much closer to me. Her movements were slow but deliberate as she slipped the narrow belt from her skirt and then unfastened the decorative row of buttons at the side. The material slid down her legs with an audible hiss which made me shiver.

Her legs were sheathed in near black stay-ups and she was wearing sheer black silk panties which seemed far better suited to evening wear.

Again she stood, totally self possessed, and I felt totally in awe of her.

She was not flawless. Her hips were, perhaps, a little wide and she carried a hint of belly but she had enviable legs for a woman her age.

Her body was evenly tanned emphasizing the faint tracery of an appendix scar but none of that mattered.

Taken as a whole she exuded womanhood. She knew the power of her body and she was comfortable in her own skin.

The situation was surreal but all my senses were heightened. I could not take my eyes away from her and her musky perfume invisibly shrouded me. I was even aware of the faint clack of a keyboard from the outer office but that was another world.

My breathing was shallow but my heart was beating so hard that I felt sure that she could see my pulse at my temples. The tension was almost unbearable but her every move was calculated.

She stepped out of her heels and then beckoned me forward with a single finger.

I was willing myself to remain where I was but her enchantment was too strong. She smiled as I levitated from the sofa and came to her.

With a flick of her eyes I dropped to my knees and my hands trembled as they reached out. Reverentially, I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her panties and began to ease them down her legs.

I freed them from her ankles and then I do not know what possessed me. I cupped their silken warmth in my hands and brought them to my face.

They had a freshly laundered smell but there was a merest hint of dampness which betokened the real scent that I sought. I breathed deeply and somehow sensed her smile.

She allowed me to lose myself for a few seconds but then she gently but firmly lifted my chin until I was looking at her sex.

It was defined by a close cut frizz of dark hair but the light picked out the odd spark of silver on the shallow mound from which her labia seemed to proudly erupt. They were a livid shade of pink and appealingly plump.

I could already feel my tongue stirring and I groaned as she teased herself with a single finger allowing her scent to drift.

"Is this what you want? ...There's a price to pay."

Only then did I notice the belt in her other hand.

I looked up at her with a mix of shock and disbelief but her eyes glinted mischievously.

"Six...and then you get your reward...make your choice."

I knew exactly what she was doing. It was her way of proving to me just how low I had fallen. The higher part of my brain hated her for it and silently screamed out at me to refuse it but I was being driven by more primitive urges.

She turned her hand slightly and the finger at her sex sank to the second knuckle with a perceptible squelch of moisture.

Saliva flooded my mouth and her eyes reflected the certainty of my obeisance.

"Over the arm of the sofa."

I was shaking as I got to my feet and I almost stumbled as I prostrated myself.

She raised my skirt carefully and then my panties were slipped down to my knees effectively hobbling me.

I shuddered a little as her fingers delicately traced out the fading marks that already adorned my skin and I wondered at her cruelty that she would visit more pain upon me.

I closed my eyes and listened as she readied herself. Movement gave way to silence and then a sharp hiss as the belt scythed through the air.

A crisp snap heralded the onset of my distress but I stifled a groan and determined to bear it. The second fell quickly branding me with a second stripe of heat and I hoped it would be over quickly but she was simply gauging my resilience.

I waited, on edge, for the third stroke to be delivered but then wished that it had not. I heard the expulsion of breath as she put in renewed effort and I had to bury my face in the sofa's cushion to mute my scream.

The pain was spiteful spreading beyond the immediate target to every limb.

The fourth elicited another scream and there was no way that Gail, sitting just beyond the door, could have failed to hear.

My tormentress seemed heedless. There was another agonizing pause before she struck for a fifth time but now much lower than before.

The pain sizzled the back of my thighs but then, as it had before, radiated from the point of impact to embrace my sex. I began to squirm against the stiff nap of the sofa and was appalled to find that I was in danger of leaving a stain.

In my fevered state I barely registered the sixth and hardest of all. It seemed to overlay the penultimate stroke and reinforced the mixed messages assailing my body.

It was over but I made no move to rise. I was still trying to come to terms with the aberrant nature of my response as she took her repose upon the sofa.

She hooked her legs over my arms and slipped a cushion under her hips to shamelessly present her sex. She used another to prop her head more comfortably on the opposing arm so that she could watch.

"You can take your time. I have no other appointments for the next couple of hours."

Her certainty that I would acquiesce bordered on disdain but I warranted it.

Her sex was sopping and her labia had swelled and darkened to an enticing vermillion seeding the air with a moist fragrance.

My neck muscles stiffened in one final act of defiance but then I bowed to the inevitable.

I brought my mouth to her sex and kissed with a lover's ardour taking my fill of her rich taste.

For long minutes I explored the clinging folds, with their oddly neutral smoothness, wondering just how many had gone before me. The thought prompted a renewed effort, a determination that she would never forget me, but I had a feeling that she expected nothing less from any of her lovers.

I shifted my position slightly and, in anticipation, she put two fingers to her sex to hold herself open.

I could imagine her amusement at my state of shock.

Her clitoris was easily twice the size of mine. It lay proudly engorged craving attention. Fascinated, I caressed it with the flat of my tongue and it felt as smooth as a marble.

For the first time I got a response from her as her body arched just a little and, building on this success, I took it between my lips. I began to dart my tongue in a tight figure of eight and she stretched herself appreciatively with a feline grace.

After a few moments she still gave no indication that she was any closer to a climax and my tongue began to tire. I slowed to a lazier pace and she relaxed fully in manner which suggested I should continue until told otherwise.

Time seemed suspended as I continued to serve but my various aches, combined with the continued throbbing induced by the belt, made me think that nearly an hour must have passed.

I began to wonder if I should do more. Was she expecting me to use my hands perhaps?

The outrageous answer came as if on a whim. She put her hand on my head and pushed me away just a little clearly indicating that I should hold my position. Then, with a lazy sigh, she turned herself over and lowered her head.

Her twin cheeks filled my vision, a taut expanse of warm flesh, and I was immediately struck by how beautifully curved they were. My eyes were drawn, inevitably, to deep, dark, divide and there was no escaping what she wanted of me.

It was not something I had ever done before, nor contemplated. It touched on deep-seated taboos and the very thought made me shiver but, until very recently, I would never have dreamed of going down on another woman.

I could already feel my mental barriers being undermined helped, in part, by the fact that her pose was imbued with an essential femininity.

I leaned in but shied away from a kiss and, instead, brushed my cheek against the warmth of her skin. There was a familiar, comforting, smell and it took a moment for me to recognize it as baby oil.

It seemed, then, that she was at pains to keep her skin, supple and conditioned, worthy of adoration.

I closed my eyes and now I did begin to kiss, a soft trail following the natural contour. My oral trek seemed to take an age and when I tired of kissing I followed the same uplands with delicate sweeps of my tongue.

I was lost in her but she remained totally in control and now she wanted more.

My eyes opened as she reached back and for a second or two I focused on her perfectly manicured finger nails but the my breath caught in my throat as she applied a gentle but insistent pressure.

She slowly opened herself up to me allowing light to enter the valley where the tone of her flesh shaded away to a single heart of darkness.

She remained patient as I was torn by mixed emotions. The greater part of me remained squeamish but I so desperately wanted to please her.

What motivated this desire I could not say but it took an effort of will to bring myself to do it. My tongue was barely extended as I put it to the crease and took a first hesitant lick.

The taste here was a little brackish but not altogether unpleasant and, as I licked again, it was sweetened by my own saliva.

She gave a groan of satisfaction and I was emboldened. I licked along the whole length but always skirting the beckoning declivity. I thought that I had done enough, and it certainly seemed to her liking, but, with a subtle shift of her muscles, she spread herself wider.

I felt as if she knew everything, my every recent abasement, and she was determined that, for her, I would go further and perform the ultimate homage.

The dark eye seemed to pout at me and I was trapped as surely as if I was caught in a whirlpool. Using the very tip of my tongue I moved from comforting smoothness until I encountered the forbidding resilience.

I retracted my tongue reflexively but then made myself try again. To my surprise I could taste her arousal, a leaked tribute to her excitement, and I licked more boldly.

As I did so I felt her whole body tense but, beneath my tongue, there was a momentary relaxation.

Just then I was overtaken by some base instinct, something I would otherwise deny. I flexed my tongue and thrust with a strength I would have thought beyond me.

For a heartbeat nothing happened but then, with a sudden yielding, I was through.

In a single motion my tongue was gripped and drawn deeper still and my face was pressed to the enfolding softness of her cheeks.

At first it was painful but, as I adjusted, I found that I could move my tongue a little. To my relief the taste was dry but essentially clean and I tried to relax.

I could feel the pulsing of her muscles and it felt oddly soothing.

After another moment or two I began to read her natural rhythm and moved my tongue in harmony. As this happened she began to moan and I comprehended that this was how she wanted me to bring her to orgasm.

I felt an peculiar sense of pride that I should be so capable and, notwithstanding the increasing strain on the root of my tongue, I tried to press deeper still.

Saliva was escaping from the side of my mouth and my face was hot and wet with perspiration but I was beyond caring.

I was vaguely aware that she was beseeching me and then the pulse increased becoming less controlled.

Suddenly my tongue was clenched tightly, bringing tears to my eyes, but I held myself in place as her body shook in gratified release.

At the finish her she slumped in exhausted fulfilment and I was released. My tongue felt swollen as I worked it around my mouth to try and restore some feeling.

She looked beautiful in her post orgasmic stupor and then, as if she could feel my gaze upon her, she lazily turned once more and, without a word, I put my mouth to her sex.

It must have taken half an hour, perhaps more, to bring her to a second languid orgasm by which time every muscle in my body was voicing its complaint. I had been bent over the arm of the sofa for so long that the pain of the belt was all but forgotten but it was still an effort to try and stand straight.

In the event, she forestalled me. She brought her hand to my cheek and touched it gently. With the other she opened her sex to reveal the red heated maw.

"You haven't finished yet...make me proud."

I owed her nothing, I certainly had nothing to prove to her, but still I did as I was bidden.

When it was over she dressed without embarrassment whilst I anguished over facing up to Gail as I left. I had been engaged for hours and there had been sounds which needed no explanation.

I bid Meg Dowland a final, awkward, goodbye but as I stood in the open doorway she stopped me with her final words.

"I asked Chloe to open your eyes a little. Regrettably, she went too far but I trust that today was a lesson well learned.

When you get back to Dublin give Geraldine my love. Thank her for sending you to us and tell her that I believe that you have truly found yourself..."