The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

PART II

The skirt Veronica wore on Wednesday went a long way toward testing her theory. It was navy, made of a clingy, knit material, and unabashedly short. It was part of her hot-date wardrobe that she never wore to school; until now.

The skirt had a matching top that only reluctantly covered her navel and left the top slopes of her breasts exposed to the air. Instead of pantyhose she wore sheer stay-ups with dark blue garters, matching her miniskirt. As she carefully climbed the front steps of the school building in her navy-blue, wedge-heeled sandals, Veronica was quite satisfied that she looked like dynamite.

Tuesday evening had been a restless time. Veronica liked to prepare her lessons after the school day. Her mind had kept drifting back to the events of the day, distracting her. Eventually she had to quit work because she couldn’t keep her hands out of her underwear.

The erotic dreams returned that night, as vivid as before. She woke up in a fever, her hand in her snatch. She came twice in the shower.

Maybe it was the lingering glow of the dreams that prompted her to press her luck with the dress code. The raven was sitting quietly outside her bedroom window, looking in while she got dressed. Veronica smiled at it.

It was when she was leaning close to the mirror, putting on her lipstick, that Veronica noticed the change. She had always been beautiful. There was something more there now: a deep, mysterious radiance that shone in her complexion and glowed brightly in her eyes. The pupils, in contrast, were as profoundly black as the raven outside her window.

Veronica studied her reflection. She was bathed in a kind of inner light, like the Madonna in medieval paintings. Only this light was lambent red from some secret fire that burned hot within her. Veronica called it the ravenglow. She wondered if her students would notice.

They noticed. She floated through her classes, buoyed up by a constant stream of male attention. Heads turned to admire her legs as she walked down the hall. The boys in her classes were rapt. Even the girls seemed to be impressed. Surprisingly, the response from the female members of the staff was more envious than disapproving.

“I wish I could wear heels like that,” one of the secretaries said.

Veronica was in the school office, picking up her mail. She was testing to see what the Headmaster would say. His office door was open.

“So why don’t you?” Veronica asked kindly.

“I’m afraid my feet would hurt by the end of the day.”

“Oh well, you can always slip them off while you’re sitting down. Or maybe find some cute fellow to massage your feet for you.”

The other woman laughed. “Say, I never thought of that.”

At that moment Mr. Ogilvie emerged to give something to the secretary. “Ah, Ms. Alura,” he said affably. “How are you today?”

“Uhm, fine sir. Really fine.”

“Good, good,” he said absently. “I like to see my staff in good spirits. Hilda, file this with the annual statistics on attendance, will you?” He gave the secretary some papers. He smiled at Veronica while his eyes scanned up and down her legs, then reluctantly returned to his office.

Veronica was shocked. Her hemline ended at midthigh. “I think he likes you,” Hilda said.

Maybe there is something at work here, Veronica reflected, later that afternoon. She seemed to be charmed. No one had whispered a word of disapproval about her outfit. Certainly her students approved of her new look.

Veronica couldn’t resist teasing a little. She stood in front of her desk where everyone could see her. She sat on top of it and crossed her knees. She winked at boys she caught staring. She toyed with her hair. She practised her sexy giggle.

She was thinking about sex. She wondered if another go round with Desmond was a possibility. She decided to head down to the gym, where Desmond liked to practice shooting hoops during spare periods.

The gym was empty. She poked her head into the equipment room. Desmond wasn’t there. One of his classmates was though. He was a stocky, curly-haired fellow who had also featured in Veronica’s fantasies. He looked up from stacking equipment. “Oh, hello Clyde,” Veronica said, stepping into the room.

“H-hi Ms. Alura,” the 18-year-old replied. He was trying not to be obvious as he checked her out. “I, I was just going to shoot some baskets. I have study period right now.”

Veronica smiled re-assuringly. “Relax Clyde, I’m not here checking up on you.”

“Oh, uh, well . . .”

“As a matter of fact, I’m glad I ran into you. I was hoping we could have a chat.”

“A ch-chat?” He was clearly nervous, alone in a closed room with a sexy and beautiful teacher. He was in his gym clothes.

“Yes Clyde, we need to talk. I noticed you in class today.”

“Uhm, yeah?”

“You weren’t paying attention to the lesson. You were staring at me. At my body. Weren’t you.”

“N-no, of course not, Ms. Alura. No, I, I that would be rude, I—”

She stepped closer. “You mean you weren’t staring at me?”

“No, I—”

“Why not?”

A pause. “What?”

She took another step closer. She looked him in the eye. She could feel the ravenglow. “Don’t you think I’m attractive?” she husked, pouting.

“W-well, yeah, of course I do, I mean, sure you’re great, but—”

“Do you think I have a nice figure?” She ran one hand down her flank, flexing her hips at the same time.

He swallowed. “Yes ma’am. Sure.”

“Great legs too, huh?” she pressed him.

“Mmmmm-hmmmmm.” He was afraid to speak.

“I’m so relieved. I was afraid you didn’t like me. Or maybe you didn’t think I was pretty. That would hurt, because I really like you, Clyde.”

“You, you do?”

“Silly boy, haven’t you noticed? Course I do. Now that we’re finally alone, maybe we can do something about it. That is, if you want to.”

She was standing very close to him now. He was spellbound. He gazed into her lidded eyes, feeling the power of her lust. He opened his mouth to say something. Veronica kissed him full on the lips. Whatever protest he had intended died in his throat. Veronica pressed her lush body against him. She was hot, impatient. Still locked in an endless kiss, she reached down and fondled his erection through his gym shorts.

Fifteen minutes later Clyde was sprawled across a pile of gym mats with Veronica bobbing above him. She was on her haunches, miniskirt up around her waist, tight jersey on the floor, huffing and groaning as she rode his rigid teenage shaft. Her perfect tits bounced in their lacy blue half-bra. Veronica had already brought Clyde off once. She hoped he would last longer this time.

The door of the room opened. “Hey, Clyde where are you man, I thought we were going to shoot some hooooo . . .” Desmond was standing there, basketball in hand. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Time seemed to freeze for a moment.

Veronica thought fast. She was too far gone to stop fucking now. She had to do something. “Desmond!” she called out, without losing her rhythm. “Come here!”

“Wha—what?”

“Come here darling. Quickly!” She reached out to him. Clyde groaned and pawed her ass.

Wordlessly, Desmond crossed the floor until he was standing in front of the pumping couple. Veronica reached up and yanked down his shorts, then his underwear. She drew him forward by his cock until he was in reach of her red lips. She leaned forward and swallowed him whole.

She heard Desmond gasp above her. She slid her mouth up and down his rapidly stiffening cock. She worked the two of them in opposition, first sliding down on Clyde while Desmond slipped out, then sucking him back in as her cunny slurped up on Clyde.

It was heaven. I’m doing two students at once, she thought dazedly. I’m a fuck and suck machine.

The wanton trio fucked away vigorously. The air was filled with the sounds of wet, furious sex. Desmond was the first to start quivering. A moment later he made a grunting sound and began to squirt his seed down her throat. Clyde came a few moments later. He threw his head back as he ejaculated. By that time Veronica was coming with him. “Yes darling, yes, my god oh my god oh yes! yes! YES!” she screamed.

“Veronica!” Desmond sighed.

“Ms. Alura!” Clyde shouted.

“OH GAAAAWD!” came a fourth voice.

Veronica and her two students looked up. The girl’s gym teacher, Ms. Shapely, was standing in the doorway. She looked like she had been there for a while. She was leaning against the doorjamb. Her legs were spread wide. One hand was up under her tight athletic top, while the other was deep inside her shorts. Her short hair was damp with perspiration, her eyes wild. She was rocking and rolling through her own powerful orgasm.

“My god, what, what have you done,” the pretty gym teacher gasped, panting. “I can’t believe . . . never come like that . . . this is insane . . . oh god oh god oh god.” Before anyone could fully react she pulled her hand out of her spandex shorts and staggered out of the room, still babbling about fucking and sucking and cumming.

“Oh boy,” Desmond said.

The three of them collapsed onto the soft gym mats. “Do you think she’ll get us in trouble?” Clyde asked. Worry informed his voice.

“I’m afraid so boys,” Veronica replied. She sighed heavily. The fat was really in the fire now.

“What are we going to do?” Desmond stroked one stocking-clad leg lovingly.

Veronica thought for a moment. “Well, I’m going to be sacked and you too are probably going to be expelled. I’ll try to protect you, but my word probably won’t carry much weight.”

She reflected for a moment on the end of her career. Desmond had lifted one wedge-heeled sandal and was gently kissing her toes. Clyde was circling her left nipple with one finger. “Sooooo boys, how about we do it again?”

Outside the building she could hear the squawk of a raven.

Veronica was late for school on Thursday. She couldn’t see how it mattered. She was about to be fired in disgrace anyway.

Nevertheless, she was dressed to look her best: a slinky lavender minidress, lavender stockings and tall black boots. The dress was tight enough to emphasize her full curves, and short enough to fully display her flaring thighs. It had big ruffles along the wide sleeves and plunging neckline. They provided feminine contrast to the silvery nylons and slick platform boots.

Veronica had bought the new dress, and quite a lot of other things, in a spontaneous shopping trip the previous evening. After she and her two student lovers had finally disentangled themselves, Veronica realized there was little point in preparing for school the next day. She went shopping instead.

Her dreams that night were incredible. In one, she found herself lying on the Headmaster’s desk, nude but for shocking pink underthings and bright pink stilettos. She was screwing the Headmaster’s son, who was actually in university somewhere, while the Headmaster beavered away at some paperwork, oblivious.

Her partner’s girlfriend was also in the room. She was tied to a stuffed chair with her own underwear, a buzzing vibrator in her cunt and another in her mouth. She was straining against her bonds and the maddening machines, losing both battles, while she tried vainly to draw the Headmaster’s attention. He worked away placidly at his papers, a few inches from where his son’s pole was slamming in and out.

Veronica awoke, panting. She was on the edge of orgasm. She dropped both hands to her naked crotch and brought herself off before she even got out of bed. Then she came twice more in the shower.

The raven watched her while she got dressed. It flapped its wings and squawked harshly. “Oh bugger off, you voyeur,” Veronica told it. She sat down to apply some make-up. The ravenglow flared brightly behind her eyes.

Accepting that she was about to lose her job, Veronica’s ambition was to have sex one more time before she had to clean out her office. She succeeded before she even arrived at school. She found one of her eighteen-year-old seniors half-running down the street, as late as she was. She stopped and offered him a ride. He accepted, of course. His eyes went wide when he saw how Veronica was dressed. The hem of her little dress had ridden up as she drove.

By the time they arrived at school the student was trying to hide his erection. “Honey you can’t go to class in that condition,” Veronica said. “Let me take care of that for you.” She leaned over and gave him a quickie blowjob right in the parking lot. He came with a groan of release. She fixed her lipstick in the car mirror.

Veronica strolled through her first two classes. The students were awe-struck. Veronica smiled at them all. She gave them plenty of chances to memorize her legs as she perched on the front desk with her knees crossed casually. Some of the girls seemed to be as turned on as the guys.

The effect she was having was from more than her considerable beauty or even the provocative outfit. She could feel the ravenglow all around her. It radiated out from her like a magnetic field. It filled the room with currents of lust and desire.

When her first break came she headed to the main office. All eyes were on her as she made her way down the hallway. Her high platform boots clicked smartly on the tile floor.

Veronica was feeling a warm glow. Back in her office she had gulped two quick hits from the silver flask in her purse. She didn’t feel up to meeting the Headmaster without a little fortification.

“Morning Veronica,” said Hilda, when she walked in the door. “Wow, don’t you look something.” There was no shock or opprobrium in her voice.

“Uh, thank you. Say, what’s this?” The young secretary was wearing a blue denim miniskirt and high-heeled suede sandals.

She giggled shyly. “Welllll, I figured, if you can do it, so can I.” Her blouse was silky white, to match her hose.

“Of course you can. You go, girl!” She leaned toward her. “I bet you could get some action any time you want,” she mock whispered.

“Veronica!”

“Come on, this school is spilling over with teenage studs. Play your cards right and you could have your pick. Mix business with pleasure, you know?”

“My gosh. The things you say!” But Veronica knew she was thinking about it. The ravenglow was stronger every day.

“Oh, I almost forgot. The Headmaster wants to see you. He seems upset.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Veronica observed drily. She turned toward Ogilvie’s office and the end of her career. Hilda took out a compact and checked her make-up.

Veronica knocked once and entered the Headmaster’s office. His face was unreadable as he looked up from his work. “Ah, Ms. Alura. Please, have a seat.” His eyes locked on the juncture of her dress and her thighs and refused to move. He licked his lips. Veronica settled into the seat beside his desk. She crossed her knees, letting her stocking top show. What the heck.

Yet Mr. Ogilvie made no comment about how she was dressed. “We have a serious problem,” he began. “Miss Shapely was in my office yesterday afternoon. She was very agitated. Barely coherent. She told me a wild story about how she discovered a teacher engaged in sex with two students in the equipment storage room.” He paused for a moment, looking her in the eye. “That teacher was you.”

Veronica said: “Mr. Ogilvie, I have no excuse, or explanation.” Might as well get this over with.

“Neither do I,” the Headmaster replied. “I’ve worked with that woman for five years and never suspected she was unstable. Then suddenly she has a complete nervous collapse. I couldn’t get any sense out of her. She was in some sort of sexual frenzy. Never seen anything like it. She kept. . . touching herself, right in front of me. She even attempted to seduce me!” He straightened his tie self-consciously.

Veronica worked to contain her amazement. He thought the gym teacher was fabricating!

“I’ve asked Miss Shapely to take a leave of absence, of course,” Ogilvie was saying. “She’s apparently having some sort of crisis. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“Me? W-what about?”

“Ms. Alura, I’ve noticed that you are a regular at the basketball games. I’ve seen you in the stands.”

“Well, I uhm, like to show support.”

“Of course. Quite commendable. That is why I have a special favour to ask of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. As you are no doubt aware, the basketball team has a big game on Friday night. The senior cheerleaders will be there too, of course. Now Ms. Shapely was the cheerleading coach. Obviously she’s not going to be doing that for a while. So, if you don’t mind, and I realize it’s an imposition, I’d like you to coach the senior cheerleading squad, for the interim.”

Veronica’s mind was already reeling with the possibilities. The senior cheerleaders: the prettiest, sexiest, fittest girls—young women—in the school. She had seen them at the ball games, bouncing about in their skimpy uniforms, energetic and eager to do whatever their coach instructed. Wait, what the hell was she thinking?

Veronica smiled. “Certainly Mr. Ogilvie. I would be glad to do the cheerleaders.” She uncrossed her knees and crossed them the other way.

“Excellent! I knew I could count on you.” Ogilvie’s eyes were back on her tinted stockings again. He didn’t even seem to be aware that he was staring.

Veronica decided to press her luck. “But you know, I really don’t have any proper gym clothes. I would have to pop out at lunch and pick up some things.” She began to swing one tall, platform boot back and forth.

Ogilvie’s eyes followed the sway of her boot. “Of course, of course. Proper gym clothes. Whatever . . . you need.” His voice was far-away.

“I’ll need some new sport shoes too, I think.”

“New shoes. Of course. Get what you need. School can cover the cost.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I’ll step out directly.”

“Lovely,” the Headmaster said in the same dreamy voice. Eventually he lifted his eyes from her legs, taking the scenic route. “Oh, one other thing. How are things coming along with Desmond?”

Veronica suppressed a giggle. “Well, he makes it hard for me sometimes, but I can always handle him.”

“Good, good. Well, keep up the good work Ms. Alura. And thank you for taking care of the cheerleaders.”

“My pleasure,” Veronica cooed, as she rose to leave.

That was incredible, Veronica reflected as she walked out the door. She had gotten away with it again. She really could do anything.

She passed through the outer office, where Hilda was openly flirting with a student who had come in for a late slip. She stopped by her classroom long enough to slap a “Class Cancelled” sign on the door, then headed out to do some more shopping.

Veronica arrived back at school toward the end of lunch break. She headed for the teachers’ lounge to grab a cup of coffee. She didn’t quite make it.

She ran into Desmond coming out of the library. He reacted instantly to her new outfit. Rather than have him stain his pants, Veronica decided to take him into a storage room for a quickie suck session. Somehow that escalated into an awkward but still delightful standing fuck. Veronica’s six-inch heels aligned cock and pussy rather nicely, while stockings and thong greatly simplified penetration.

By the time Veronica made it to the teachers’ lounge, the room was empty. Everyone else had evidently gone back to class. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot that was always brewing. She added a few drops from the flask in her handbag to take the edge off. Impishly, she emptied the rest of the flask into the coffee pot.

She was sitting down, sipping her coffee when a deep voice boomed: “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

Veronica looked up. “Why Mrs. Kurvsky. How are you today?”

Olga Kurvsky was a tall, stern teacher of about forty, with the build and carriage of an opera singer. She terrified her mathematics classes. At the moment she did not look pleased.

“Never mind that,” she said curtly. “You’re the one we have to talk about. What do you think you are doing coming to work dressed like that?”

Veronica’s eyes went wide. So far, everyone had treated her as if nothing was unusual. Was Olga immune to the ravenglow?

She faltered. “Well, I, I uh, I felt like dressing a little brighter today, that’s all.” She tugged down her minidress self-consciously.

“A little brighter indeed. Veronica you should be ashamed of yourself! Coming in here dressed like a streetwalker. We are supposed to be setting an example for these young people. I always thought you had a little bit of sense in that blonde head. Evidently I was mistaken. You’re acting like a tramp! Now are you going to pull yourself together and start acting like a professional or do I have to report you to the school board?”

As always, Veronica wilted before Olga’s domineering presence. Yet as she glanced up at the older woman’s scowling face she felt anger grow inside her.

“Don’t you tell me what to do,” she blurted.

“I beg your pardon!”

“You heard me.” She got to her feet, facing her accuser. “You have no business telling me how to dress or behave. You have no authority over me, you have no corner on morality, and you have no sense of style.” She scanned Olga’s long black dress up and down scornfully. “You look like a walking bag of dirty laundry in that dress. Have you forgotten entirely that you’re a woman? Do you even remember when you cared about your appearance?”

“Now look here—”

“Oh, don’t even start. You know what I think? I think you’re afraid. Really. You’re afraid that if anybody, anywhere, starts noticing you as a woman they’ll see how completely you have buried your own femininity. You’re altogether baffled about how to be a woman. You really have no clue. You hide all your best features because you wouldn’t have any idea what to do if a man actually noticed. No wonder your husband divorced you. He expected to marry a real woman, not a zombie eunuch with a nun’s wardrobe.”

Olga exploded in rage. “Why you insolent tramp! How dare you talk to me like that. I am a woman, and I am completely at home with my sexuality, even if I don’t choose to parade it like a peacock!“

“Prove it!” Veronica shot back.

“I will! I—what?”

“Prove it. Convince me that you can be feminine. I don’t believe you. I don’t think you even know how to dress sexy. This serious teacher routine is just a cover.” She waved a hand dismissively.

“I can be as feminine as any woman in this town!”

“So prove it. You’re so confident of yourself, go ahead and prove me wrong.” She looked at her watch. “It’s half past one. I’ll bet you anything you can’t be back here looking half-way sexy by four. You’ve almost three hours. Go ahead. Make my day.”

Olga glared at her for a long moment. “All right,” she declared, “I will. By four o’clock. You are in for a big surprise girlie.”

She turned around and strode out the door with her nose in the air. She slammed the door behind her.

Veronica studied the closed door, amused and astonished. Did Olga realize what she had talked herself into? She felt the ravenglow burning within her.

Another teacher entered the lounge. She was a pleasant, thirtyish woman in a loose white dress and heels. She taught geography. “Hi Ronnie,” she said cheerfully. She advanced toward the coffee pot. “I passed Olga in the hallway. Boy, is she ever in a mood. What’s that all about?”

Veronica grinned. “I’m sure I have no idea.”

“Hey, I love your boots. Hot! Where did you find those?”

Veronica contemplated Alice without the stupid dress. Her smile broadened. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Veronica made a slurping sound as her lips slid off the cock in her hand. “Oh, Alvin, darling, you are sooooo talented!” she sang. She stroked his curly hair with her free hand.

It was a little after four that afternoon. Veronica was in the office behind the classroom, seated at her desk. More exactly, she was slumped down lazily in her big stuffed chair with her legs spread wide. One knee-high platform boot draped over the arm of her chair and the other rested on the back of the eager eighteen-year-old who was kneeling on the floor, diligently licking her pussy. Another senior student—what was his name now? Oh yes, Ryan—was leaning against the chair. His pants were around his ankles. His cock was standing out, wet and rigid in her petite hand, waiting for her lips to return. She didn’t keep it waiting long. He groaned his appreciation as she returned to sucking him off.

Veronica had been shameless through her afternoon classes. European history seemed rather less important than finding a handsome young stud or two for some after-class dalliance. Of course, from the moment she walked into the room in her high black boots and slinky little dress she had the undivided attention of the class. The boys looked like they had died and gone to heaven. The girls looked on, not with jealousy, but with envy and longing.

Veronica worked the room. She catwalked back and forth in her outrageous heels. She posed with one hip cocked and one leg forward. She swept the class with long, smoky looks.

Ravenglow warmed the room. All Veronica had to do was choose the fellows she most fancied and ask them to stay after class. The seduction was half finished before she even got them alone.

At the moment Veronica’s dress was lying in a heap on the desk. Her floral half-bra was pulled aside to let her playful puppies free. They stood out proud and full on her chest. The nipples were standing out from her arousal, and wet with kisses.

She was squirming in her chair from Alvin’s artless tongue-work. She made humming, happy sounds around Ryan’s dick as she worked it in and out and in and out and in. Long blonde hair fell wildly about her face.

Veronica was on the verge of cumming. Her universe was contracting to the taste and thrum of mouth and tongue and cock and pussy. She grunted suddenly. She grabbed the back of Alvin’s head, pushing him up against her pussy.

Ryan went over the top first. He made a gasping, astonished sound. His head tipped back and the muscles in his neck stood out. He fired his load into his teacher’s receptive mouth. Veronica sucked him down until she had to let go because she was peaking herself. She twisted and shuddered through a long, satisfying climax.

Eventually she leaned back, sighing, and let poor Alvin catch his breath. He settled back on his haunches, breathing hard, but looking very pleased with himself.

“My, my, you lads were fine,” Veronica praised them. She lifted a finger to her lips and licked off a drop of stray semen. “So, who wants to fuck me first?”

Someone knocked on the door.

Veronica and her two teenage lovers stiffened at once. “Who, who is it?” Veronica called, buying time. She and the boys began frantically grabbing clothing.

“Olga Kurvsky,” said the voice

Veronica scrambled to get her dress on. She had forgotten about her dare with Olga. “What do we do?” Alvin whispered.

“Out the window. Quickly!” She urged the boys frantically toward the window at the back of her office. Ryan bunny-hopped as he tried to pull up his pants on the fly. Alvin threw up the sash. Both boys climbed out. Good thing the office was on the ground floor.

Veronica tossed her bra in a desk drawer. She straightened her hair a little and smoothed her short dress. Her stockings would have to wait. She took a deep breath, walked to the door, and opened it.

Olga Kurvsky was standing there, looking smug. “I believe you owe me an apology,” she said.

Veronica stepped aside to let her into the room. She was astonished. Olga was wearing a very long, form-fitting dress of red, silky material. It clung to her buxom figure like the first snow of winter clings to a garden statue. The dress came down to her ankles. The slits up both sides extended to her hips. Her curvy legs were dressed in lacy black stockings with an elaborate floral pattern. Her garter straps flashed with every step. She wore red silk pumps with yellow roses on the vamps.

“Well,” she said, turning to face the younger teacher, “who was it that said I knew nothing of being sexy?”

Veronica wasn’t inclined to be combative. “Olga!” she cried, “you’re amazing!” She looked the other woman up and down thoroughly, smiling her approval. She walked around her, inspecting her like a prize-winning floral arrangement. Olga suffered the inspection with her chin held high.

“Oh, I love the shoes,” Veronica told her. ”Very chic. And that dress; well, you could stop traffic. Here, why don’t we slip this off for a moment.” She began to remove the short jacket that Olga was wearing over the dress.

The other woman protested: “Wait, no, it’s not meant to be worn . . .” The jacket was already off. Veronica tossed it on the desk.

Olga looked self-conscious now. The bodice was both tight and low-cut. It displayed a generous pair of breasts in a most flattering way.

Veronica ran her hand down the centreline of the dress admiringly. “Olga, honey, you are one lucky woman. You could stun any man into a coma with these beauties.” One finger strayed a little, feathering over her skin.

“No, I, I, don’t—” Olga stammered.

“Say, what do we have here?” Veronica wanted to know. Her hand was stroking Olga’s chest, just below her plump melons. There was something firmer than skin beneath the silk dress.

Olga blushed prettily. “I wanted something with a little more lift,” she said demurely. She toyed nervously with a strand of dark hair. She was wearing her long tresses in a looser, more feminine style than usual. They framed a round, young-looking face.

“Mmmmmm, of course you do,” Veronica purred, standing close. She was still stroking the bustier under Olga’s dress, finding the shape of it with both hands. “Let’s put those babies on display. Cupcake, you are one hot witchin’ bitch!”

Olga took a half-step backward, faltering on her new heels. “Uhm . . . Ronnie . . . I . . . ”

Veronica was still very close. “And look at those legs. Totally captivating. You look fine in stockings. Don’t you love the way they feel against your skin? Mmmmmm, so soft and silky.” She inserted one hand into the slit up the dress and stroked the other teacher’s leg, just below the garter. Olga squirmed.

At the same time, Veronica’s other hand slipped upward, to knead and fondle one half-exposed breast. Olga stepped backward, stumbled, and ended up leaning against the desk. She needed both hands to steady herself. That left none for self-defense. “Please . . .” she mumbled. It wasn’t clear what she was begging for.

“Ooooooh, you’re simply delicious,” Veronica husked. “You know, if you wore something like this to class you could have every boy in the room eating out of your hand. Isn’t that a turn-on?” The hand in Olga’s skirt explored new territory. The other one found a nipple.

Olga was making little whimpering sounds, half lust and half panic. They jumped an octave when Veronica’s hand found its way under her new lace panties and into her creaming honeypot.

“You’re going to make mathematics a very popular subject,” Veronica’s voice whispered in her ear. “You little temptress! You’re even turning me on. Lemme at those big titties.“

She lowered her lips to the nipples she had freed from their confinement. Down below, her hand pumped dexterously. Olga collapsed slowly backward onto the desk. Her long moan was a cry of abject surrender.