The Prom

Did I mention that Miss Treadway isn't the least bit pretty? None of the female gym teachers at North Haskell are. A lot of the kids call her a double-bagger, a bulldyke, and a butterface. They'd never say it within earshot of her though. Now I know why! As I struggled to catch my breath and calm down, I savored how the prospect of surrendering to Miss Treadway is so intensely desirable to me—a secret treasure more precious than diamonds or gold!

My eyes traveled downward to her right hand now, and I noticed the object she was clutching was a wooden hairbrush. So this was what she'd been using to beat my ass with! I already knew a thing or two about wooden hairbrushes from my parents, before I'd been placed with Aunt Francie. The thing about wooden hairbrushes is it can be very pain intensive. But the pain, intensive as it may be, was utter ecstasy when delivered by Miss Treadway. I suppose to that end, it was a very effective tool.

Miss Treadway placed a strong hand on my shoulder, grasping it firmly before she said: "I think it's time to run all of that sinful behavior out of you, young lady."

Miss Treadway was staring at her wristwatch for several seconds, glancing up at the clock on the wall over the doors. She can't be serious! Is she really going to make me run laps? But I realized all too quickly that she certainly intended for me to do just that. She made a sort of sweeping gesture with her hand. She demanded that I run twenty laps. I looked up at the wall clock. It was so late! The second hand was perilously close to the 12 when she blew her whistle:

"Let's go, Miss Ackerman! Twenty laps!"

"What?" I was whining again. "I can't run twenty laps—please!"

Miss Treadway glared and blew her stupid whistle so close to my face, I thought I was going to go deaf! The ringing in my ears was as painful as the bruises on my battered ass.

"Thirty laps it is then!" She barked. "HUSTLE!"

I knew what she expected me to do. I've had to run laps dozens of times before in gym class for various reasons. For the next 10 minutes, I was in hell and Miss Treadway knew it. The entire time, I could hear the shrill thweeeet! of her gym whistle followed by a barking command to keep going each time I completed a lap.

It wasn't long before I was so shot, so exhausted, I thought I was going to collapse. But Miss Treadway was utterly sadistic. She kept chiding me to keep going, punctuating her commands with sharp chirps of her whistle. It felt like someone was pounding a load of sand into my lungs with their foot. I desperately needed a drink!

That's when I saw the bottle she was holding. It was filled with water. Where did she get that? I wondered. Condensation pearled and glistened enticingly on the glass surface. I wanted that fucking water so bad, I didn't even notice when she blew her whistle and ordered me to stop running. I stumbled and almost fell face forward, but I caught myself just in time.

"Go on over to that mat over there and rest for a minute."

Miss Treadway pointed to the tumbling mats that were near the podium. She followed me over and pressed the cold, wet bottle of water into my shaking hands. I was shot and totally exhausted, but I drank deeply until I felt her gently tugging the bottle out of my grasp. My eyes by now were blotchy and sore from crying. Good thing I took a shower and washed the makeup from my face!

"I-I'm sorry I went out with Jason, Miss Treadway." I muttered in a shaking voice. "But Bobbie keeps saying that I have a crush on you...and I didn't want her to find out the truth, so I decided to go to the prom."

Miss Treadway bristled, fixing me with her condescending gaze.

"Hmm. I think that if you are sincere, you should express that to God."

She said these last words earnestly, with care and interest, as if we were in future leaders' class discussing a written assignment. It was like she hadn't spent the last 10 minutes blowing her gym whistle at me and screaming at me to run.

I looked at my teacher, not directly at her eyes though. "I don't know what I should do!" I said breathlessly. I was still staring at that glass bottle, now nearly half empty. She offered me another drink and I took it, getting three or four gulps down before I heard her voice prickling my ears.

"Pray." She said in a terse voice. "Ask God to forgive you just the way Miss Larsson and I taught you during Aim for Success."

I could feel Miss Treadway looking at me expectantly. Her eyes were on me. She was waiting on me.

"God in heaven I come to you in Jesus' name. I am a sinner, and I am sorry for my sins and the shameful dishonest way I have lived; I ask for your forgiveness."

I cast my eyes downward, trying to avoid eye contact with my teacher. This was so embarrassing! I felt like I was going to rip apart at any moment! I felt like punching her, tackling her, or crying into her chest! It was as if the loss of my dignity sustained her somehow.

"Is that all? What about the rest?" Miss Treadway asked with a hint of slyness to her curt tone. I looked up for a second to find her looking over my body with a knowing grin spreading across her rugged face. She looks like a carnivore, I thought. A predator!

"I believe that Jesus Christ shed his blood on the cross at Calvary and died for my sins. I will turn away from sin and look only to you."

She was still staring, expecting something more. What the fuck more does she want? Then for some reason I said:

"Please God help me to nurture my relationship with Carol Jean, so I may serve her well thereby serving you."

My pussy was pulsing out of control, and I felt so hot, so wet. After a lull of maybe 5 seconds, I heard Miss Treadway starting to laugh. It wasn't light or carefree. It was dark; born from her sense of power over me. She's always been hostile and controlling and arrogant even for the average teacher. She enjoyed exercising power over all the students in her classes. Now that she had me where she wanted me, exhausted and broken, she was free to exercise that same power sexually and unfettered. I'm pretty sure she has wanted to do this to me for quite a long while.

"Oh, my beautiful princess...that was very good." She said soothingly.

Before I knew what was happening next, I felt Miss Treadway's lips mash against mine, and I could taste the stale coffee on her breath. I could smell the spicy floral scent that emanated from her body as she pulled me in closer to her. Now that I was locked in her insistent, possessive embrace, she began to run her strong hands along my body, starting at my waist and ending with her tenderly cupping my breasts through the PE uniform.

Slowly my legs fell open, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the aroma of my wetness. It was a pungent, earthy and strong odor. For a split second, I was embarrassed, mortified. But Miss Treadway's eyes were wide with excitement as she kissed me once more. She pushed her tongue into my mouth, making me gag before I could catch my breath.

I tried to resist my teacher's advances because I was still terrified and shocked by what took place earlier, but Miss Treadway was too strong. In seconds, the front of my one-size-too-large gym suit was completely open, the dark blue material spread obscenely apart to expose my vulnerable nakedness underneath. I felt a blast of cool air rush between my sweat-dampened knees and caress my thinly covered crotch.

"Relax, Ciara." I heard my teacher say softly. "Lay down against the mat...take a deep breath. I love you, sweetheart. I would never hurt you the way that silly boy did. You know that God has spoken to me. He wants you to be mine, and I am going to make it so."

I did as I was told, and suddenly I realized I was gasping in shock as I felt Miss Treadway yanking off my sneakers before pulling that God-awful dingy blue gym suit the rest of the way off my shoulders and past my hips until I was laying on the tumbling mat in front of her completely naked and vulnerable...just the way she wanted me to be. Christ, I felt so warm and horny, so sweaty, but I didn't really care.

"Miss Treadway..." I muttered. God, how I wanted her!

"I have wanted to make love to you at school all year," she said to me. "I've thought about keeping you after future leaders' class. I wanted to take you back down into the locker room, but you know that that is not possible." Her strong hands slid down my stomach and slowly massaged my belly, making my muscles tense and relax with each stroke. "I lay in my bed at night and dream about you constantly...and the Lord spoke to me. He told me that you would be mine, that we are meant to be together...and that no one should come between us."

I tried my best to steady my emotions and my physical presence, but I felt so self-conscious. I thought it would be a good idea to try and think of myself as being somewhere else. All that came to mind was this one day last year when I went to shower after PE, and I dropped my towel because I wanted to leave before Miss Treadway saw me naked. The sight of my gym teacher looming over me fully clothed made me feel so small and vulnerable. I really felt as if I was being made to stay late after school to receive her punishment. Then I saw Miss Treadway slump down on her stomach between my legs.

She kissed my sex at first as if she were kissing my lips. She started off so softly, so tenderly. At first I was inundated with butterfly kisses before Miss Treadway began to tongue my clitoris. It was driving me wild. I was panting hard as though I was running a 6 minute mile during Presidential Fitness Week in gym class.

I was trying to stare at Miss Treadway as she went down on me. I contemplated how handsome my lover is with her rugged aged face, cropped hair and thin lips that caressed my most intimate parts. I combed through her short dark hair as my teacher used her mouth to make love to me. While her adept tongue penetrated and pleasured me, my mind scrambled for a way—any way—to make time stand still. I wanted this moment to last forever!

Suddenly, a loud groan of pleasure mingling with raw agony escaped my lips. Miss Treadway stopped licking me. I could feel her fingers gently sliding against my slickened labia before briefly penetrating me.

"This little treat belongs to me—not some silly boy who comes to disrupt my class." She said softly. "But I don't think I'll have to worry about any more boys wanting a taste after tonight...will I?"

"Please, Miss Treadway!" I cried limply. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted to feel her finger plunge into me, to feel her take me like she wanted.

"Patience, Miss Ackerman is a virtue." Miss Treadway said sternly. "You should remember that the next time you are tempted to turn away from the Lord."

I knew better than to whine like that, I thought. I have been with Miss Treadway before. My body was already hers. There was no need for my impatience. She brought her finger to her mouth and slowly sucked it, her eyes fixed on mine. her face was a mask of pure enjoyment and predation. The sight made me lightheaded.

"Relax, sweetheart. You're doing just fine." She whispered. "I see that my little angel has guarded her purity...not that Mr. Pope would know what to do with it!"

"I told you...we didn't do anything..." My voice trailed off now.

And with that, she leaned forward and I felt the flat of her tongue slide across my slit. I groaned with a relief I had never known as the sensations from her tongue flooded my body. My arms went to jelly, and I fell back hard against the mat.

Her tongue licked its way up to my clit and curled around it and I whimpered helplessly as I watched Miss Treadway use my pussy at her leisure. "Oh God," I heard myself exclaim. "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!" This must be what it feels like to die, I thought to myself. My pussy pulsed with pleasure as she lapped every inch of me with excruciating slow intensity.

She discovered places that I didn't know existed, and brought out sensations in me that I never knew I could have. Her strong slender arms slithered up my naked body slowly, reaching for my small breasts. Her hands cupped them and kneaded them like dough. Her fingers started lightly pinching and twisting my nipples, and I was lost. She moved her tongue slowly down past my pussy to the space between it and my ass, and startled and excited me before licking her way back up to my clit in one smooth motion.

I felt myself begin to shake, and I felt Miss Treadway grab my thighs and push me down. I was panting and moaning, barely able to breathe. She started nudging my clit harder with the tip of her tongue, moving it back and forth rhythmically as my legs began to quiver erratically. I knew that I was in for an exquisite climax. My hips ground into Miss Treadway's mouth in a steady rhythm as I attempted to get her tongue as deep inside me as I could. My body soon began to spasm, cumming for my older lover as she lapped up every bit of my juices.

My body had been waiting, begging, praying for this. I blacked out for a moment or two, and then heard myself screaming and yelling and crying out as the force racked my body. Miss Treadway's tongue continued to nudge and flutter against my clit as wave after wave of orgasm went through my body. My body felt like a rag doll, but I held my place and locked my arms as I tried to prop myself up because I wanted to see, I wanted to watch her stern, steely masculine face, her fingers, her hands. I wanted to watch her make me come and come and come. It seemed to last forever, my ears were ringing, and my face was shiny wet with tears.

Oh, God what happened? My eyelids fluttered momentarily in shock, and my body still shook. The sounds of my own voice echoing shrilly through the nearly empty gym scared me, but Miss Treadway didn't look the least bit concerned.

I could still feel Treadway's hands on my thighs, her fingers moving over my sex, sending little shivers through my body. I looked down to see her short boyishly cropped hair sticking a little to the sides of her face, and her thin lips coming together in a satisfied smile.

She'd neglected to take off her glasses, and I could see evidence of my arousal streaking the lenses. I was enthralled. This latest experience did something profound to me. My skin started to tingle again, and the air in my chest started to feel heavy. My eyes narrowed on her athletic body furiously, bent down before me, her slender waist, her ass in my view. I was on fire again with a lust and yearning that far exceeded whatever I felt before into dust.

Miss Treadway rose up to meet me, her face slick with my juices. I could smell myself on her; I could sense pure danger in her. I wanted to melt into her, to surrender myself body and soul.

"Oh my...where did that come from?" Miss Treadway asked in a quiet, rather sly sounding voice. Her eyes were heavy and soft, but still focused on me. "Seems like my rebellious girl still has a terrible itch that needs scratching!"

I grabbed at Miss Treadway, trying to draw her close to me. I didn't want this night to end...ever!

"I want to taste you, Miss Treadway. I want to lick your pussy, I want to feel you! Please!" I wanted it so bad that it hurt, it physically hurt, like knife blades jammed underneath the surface of my skin. I didn't know what else to say, really. I saw Miss Treadway bristle noticeably for a split second.

"Hmm," she mused wearily. I detected a hint of wry playfulness in her voice. "Have you ever licked another woman's private parts before, Ciara? That seems to be something reserved for those who are in committed relationships...not bratty, sinful little high school girls."

My ears prickled, and my bare skin tingled with raw arousal. I was privy to the game my gym teacher was playing. Of course we have had sex with each other before—maybe not as many times as some of my friends did with their boyfriends, but enough times that I knew that Miss Treadway was simply being facetious with me. I knew I was expected to play along, and I was only too happy to accommodate.

"No, Miss Treadway, never," I answered, feeling still a little nervous, but excited by the notion of playing the innocent virgin for my older lover. "But I want to taste you, Miss Treadway. Can I?"

"You know, good girls don't normally beg to lick their teachers' private parts, Ciara. Imagine what people would think if they found out!" Miss Treadway's eyes were filled with a subtle hint of lust mixed with glee as she spoke softly to me.

"I don't care, Miss Treadway," I said, desperation welling up in my throat. "I graduate in a few more weeks. Who cares what anyone thinks? I only care about what you think!"

Suddenly I realized that Miss Treadway wasn't the only one who had lost her mind.

"Is that true, Ciara?" My gym teacher asked with mock skepticism. Her eyes never wavering off of me. Her hands were on either side of my frame. "It seems to me that you decided to impress your friends tonight instead."

"I wasn't trying to impress my friends, Miss Treadway! I only want you—not Jason! I don't care if we do it in the teacher's lounge, the gym, or the fucking library, I just need to lick your pussy, Miss Treadway! PLEASE!!"

When I heard the word 'pussy' escape from my lips, my nostrils flared, and I felt like I was breathing fire. I was crying, whining, and pleading. I was dying to touch her, to feel that fair skin again, to taste her. I would have done anything.

Miss Treadway smiled slightly before glancing down at her wristwatch.

"I think class time is over, Ciara." She said matter-of-factly. "Pick up your things and get showered and changed. I'll be along in a few minutes."

"But, Miss Treadway!" I was completely stunned. What was going on? That was when I noticed the large clock on the wall. We still had about three hours before the community center would be due to open, but I knew that Miss Treadway wanted to make sure we were out of there long before anyone might notice we were there. I nodded my assent as I gathered up the jumbled up mess of clothes strewn near the tumbling mat.

I put the gym suit back on kind of sloppily. For some reason, I couldn't stand the idea of traipsing back to the locker room naked. I left the shoes and socks off, and these I carried in my hand. As I headed out the double doors to the hall, I felt Miss Treadway firmly grasping my shoulder.

"We'll continue this at home." She was referring to her house. That was okay since Aunt Francie assumed I'd be staying over at my friend, Amy's house or hanging out at some post prom party this weekend.

"I'd rather have a warm bed to lay in anyway...wouldn't you?"