Thigh School

Thigh School

IMG_5232This story was written for Mischa Eliot’s writing homework fun.  She is the bomb diggity.

Katy was thankful that it was finally fall break.  She had four full days to unwind and get organized for the next teaching term.  She had accepted the Visual Arts Specialist position in July with a happy heart, and while she enjoyed the students and faculty, her new principal was a micromanaging beast that overshadowed her experience.  Dr. Spice demanded lesson plans reviews daily and often popped by her classroom just to find ways to critique her.  She hated going to her mailbox and seeing the bright yellow post-it notes he left that detailed what she was doing wrong.  Reading his notes left her feeling demoralized and frustrated.  

She slept in on her first day of freedom and woke past noon.  She stretched out in her bed and smiled.  A good night’s sleep was the perfect remedy for her stress and worries.  She planned on eating cold pizza for breakfast and then spend the day organizing her notes to prepare for the next few months of school.  She wound her long auburn hair into a bun and began getting her things ready for a day of preparation and planning.  Katy thunked the pizza box on the table and turned her laptop on to get to work.  She had collected all of the post-it notes from Dr. Spice and began to correct and change her curriculum maps and lesson plans to better reflect his pedagogy ideals.  She pulled up her school’s website and started to enter her password.  It didn’t work.  She tried again and she again got an error message.  She then remembered a memo she got mid-week about changing passwords for security reasons.  She had changed hers between classes and saved it to her school computer.  She cussed as she realized that if she wanted to complete her work, she would have to go to school.  She quickly showered and started to get dressed.   She knew that she had a quick Tinder coffee date for that afternoon that would probably lead to an evening of wanton debauchery.  Katy was passionate about teaching, but her true love was sex. She had a parade of men in her life that would boggle most vanilla minds. She decided that she wouldn’t have time to come back home after working at school so she put some extra time in her hair and makeup and slipped on a flirty dress and heels.   Her lace adorned cleavage spilled out of the top of the dress and the skirt flashed peeks of her thigh high stockings.  She would never wear such an outfit to school normally, but she wanted to look hot for her date.

Katy arrived at school and noticed that she was the only car in the parking lot.  She hurriedly gathered her belongings and went to unlock the school.  Dr. Spice gave all the faculty a key to the building and Katy fumbled with the key ring that he issued.  It was a little tassel looking thing that had two pom poms attached to it in the their school colors of purple and silver.  The ring held two keys, but only one opened the building.  Katy always forgot to ask what the other key opened.  

The building was dark and her classroom was in the far corner of the school.  Her high heels echoed in the hallway and Katy had a shiver run up her spine as she felt empty building press around her.  Her classroom was neat and orderly.  She worked her ass off to keep it that way as Dr. Spice hated clutter.  She was the ART teacher and it was supposed to be messy in her room to feed creativity, but she feared Dr. Spice’s rough voice and piercing eyes.  Her computer booted up easily and Katy settled in to work.  She slipped off her heels and propped her feet up on her desk as she hummed and edited documents.  She let an errant finger casually trace her slit as she thought about timelines and lesson plans.  She allowed herself to moan softly as she probed and stroked her clit.  She could skirt along the edge of orgasm for hours playing this way. She loved the control that she had over her body and the final release was always so much better if she teased herself.  

She finally finished with her work a few hours later and was throbbing for her date.  She needed to be fucked hard after putting in all these extra hours and a random Tinder date seemed perfect.  She licked her naughty finger clean and then rubbed her temples and Dr. Spice clouded her thoughts. She hated him.  Once she allowed this thought to occur, the feeling welled up inside of her and she felt the need to take action and create something to express her angst.  She was a passionate artist.  She had works in almost every coffee shop in town under a fake name, Pumpkin Scarlett.  She mostly painted delicate nude studies of herself and she loved the secret exhibitionism aspect of her work.  Walking into a coffee shop where her hips and legs hung over her table made her feel so incredibly sexy.  She decided that she would make a little mess in the principal’s office.

Katy took the short cut through the lecture hall and went into the back of Dr. Spice’s office.  It reeked of cinnamon pine cones and air freshener.  She propped the door open to air the place out and began to look for his cache of post it notes.  She was going to cover every square inch of his room in the stupid yellow squares.  She began her search and looked in his desk drawers.  They were full of files and the regular office supply stuff.  She knew he had to have boxes of notes somewhere, but they weren’t in the usual locations.  There was one closet in the room, but it looked very shallow.  She opened the door and found cases of the yellow notes. She moved the boxes out of the closet and was getting ready to work on her revenge, but something caught her eye.  Behind the boxes was a door marked “Faculty Lounge.”  

She tried the doorknob, but it was locked.  She shrugged and began to open the tiny packages of notes.  She moved her purse on top of Dr. Spice’s desk and she accidentally dropped it; spilling the contents. Her keys tinkled as they hit the wood and she noticed the second key on the ring.  Curiosity got the best of her and she decided to try it in the locked secret door.  

The key clicked the door unlocked and it opened easily.  Katy reached for a light switch and illuminated a short hallway.  She started to explore, but she heard someone approaching the room.  She quickly shut the closet doors and scooted under Mr. Spice’s desk.  

“Who propped the office door open?  What’s all this mess?”

Katy recognized the voice of their head of maintenance, Ms. Coco.  She was a crisp woman who was dramatically beautiful and thorough in keeping their school in top condition.  She ran a crew janitors who were efficient and seemed very content in their work.  She was pushing something into the office and whatever it was landed on the floor with a squishy thud.  

Katy peered out from under the desk to investigate and was shocked to be eyeball to eyeball with Dr. Spice.  She jumped and banged her head on the desk.  Ms. Coco heard the sound and soon Katy was being pulled to her feet by the formidable woman. Her eyes grew wide when she saw her outfit.  Ms. Coco was in a tight leather corset  that hugged every curve of her body.  The laces strained against her full supple breasts, and Katy’s mouth went dry.  She was wearing black leather boots and fishnet stockings similar to the ones that showed from under Katy’s dress.  Ms. Coco was hot.  

Dr.  Spice was on the floor with his arms bound behind him and a ball gag in his mouth.  He looked away when Katy glanced at him.  He was wearing his usual business suit and tie and he had an enormous erection.  Ms. Coco placed her boot right on his cock and pressed hard.  He groaned, but did not move away.  

“You’re the new art teacher.  I’ve seen your paintings around town.  I would know those boobs anywhere, ” Ms. Coco said, “Hmmm. I think you will do nicely.”  Ms. Coco drew her finger along Katy’s jawline as she admired the young teacher, and Katy felt her panties get soaked. 

“What’s going on here?” Katy stammered as she shook herself free from Ms. Coco’s hungry gaze.  “Are you ok, Dr. Spice?”  

“The worm is just fine.  Has he been giving you trouble?  He has a taste for young teachers and tends to be a big growly bear to them.  He needs to learn his lesson and play nice.  Right, worm?”  She pressed with her boot again and Dr. Spice nodded as he cried out in pain.  “Now you, my dear, would be a welcome addition to our Faculty Lounge. You may leave now, or I can teach you how to really treat administration.”  

Katy had played mostly submissive roles in her sexual explorations, but this woman was obviously a Domme.  The power that emanated from this woman was profound and Katy was hooked.  She wanted to learn.  

“I would love to learn,” Katy responded.  Ms. Coco smiled and took Katy’s hand.  She placed the end of the rope that was binding Dr. Spice’s arms in Katy’s hands.  

“First, we have to prepare the worm,”  Ms. Coco sneered at Dr. Spice, “Get up.  You are making us wait.”  

Katy pulled the rope to help Dr. Spice to his feet. Her anger towards him bubbled to the surface.    “You’re an asshole,” Katy spat out, “You made my life miserable with your constant criticism.”  Dr. Spice hung his head, but his dick pulsed obviously in his pants.    Katy felt the emotion drain from her body and it was replaced by a touch of pity and something exciting. Dr. Spice continued to look at the floor.  

Ms. Coco pulled his chin up with a perfectly manicured hand, “This talented young lady is now one of US.  Do you understand, worm?”  

Dr. Spice nodded and a strand of drool dripped from the edge of the ball gag.  Katy and Ms. Coco led the trussed up worm down the hallway behind the “Faculty Room”door.  

From then on, the only yellow post it messages Katy received said simply, “My office, please, Mistress.”  



Brian was my manager at PoFolks when I was 18.  We had an amicable working relationship as I was a punctual and hardworking employee.  He knew that I could run all twenty-four tables by myself even on All You Can Eat chicken night and I was always quick to give him a smile and share a stolen moment of merriment at the drink station.  He was tall and thin with clear blue eyes and completely not my type. I now like men who are barrel chested, strong, and exude masculinity, but all I knew then was that  Brian and I had an ease when working together and he took care of me.  

I often worked the weekday evening shift as the sole waitress because we had few employees, a light rush,  and Brian knew that I needed the money to pay for my college textbooks.    I had wrapped up the rush and was beginning to roll my silverware quota when a large man came in for the evening special.  I served him with my gentle smile and then busied myself with my methodical wrapping of forks, spoons, and knives.  We were the only two in the front of the restaurant, but I was by far not alone.  I knew Kenny was washing dishes, Josh was on the line possibly smoking a joint, and Brian was in the office.  The sweet sounds of Bill Monroe played  over the speaker and I was ready to go home.  As soon as this gentleman leaves, I know I can lock the door for the night.  

PoFolks uniforms were benign.  I was wearing a tight pair of Levis, a white button up shirt covered in various splotches of food, a red apron around my hips and my signature square-dancing suspenders that were red with rhinestones.  My hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and I’m pretty sure I had coated my lips with a bit of cherry  chapstick, but I otherwise did not wear makeup.  I was tired from a long night of waiting tables and I’m pretty sure that I smelled of chicken grease and sweat.  

The man raised his glass and clinked the ice to signal me to bring over the pitcher of Coke.  I walked over and began to fill his glass.  

“Everything ok?”  I asked.  

He grunted at me and snaked a hand up the back of my leg.  I laughed nervously and picked up his plate.  

“Where do you think you’re going, sweet young thing?”  he growled and pulled me onto his lap.  I could feel his growing bulge through the pieces of fabric that were separating my body from his. He snaked a rough hand up my blouse and fumbled with my tits while I squimed in protest.  He squeezed my nipple hard and laughed as I struggled in his grip.  He undid the button on my pants.  Luckily, I still had the pitcher of Coke in my hand and I quickly dumped the contents over his head.  The cold chill of soda shocked him enough so he released his grasp, and I made a mad dash to the kitchen.   Tears were streaming down my face as I burst into the office and gulped to Brian what had happened.  Brian guided me to a chair and gathered the other two workers to go with him out into the restaurant.  The man was gone and he didn’t even leave a tip or pay his bill.  Brain locked the door and came back to me huddled in his rolling chair.  

He put his hands on my shoulders and I melted into  his arms.  He pulled me close and stroked my back while I cried.  He smelled like buttermilk biscuits and a spicy scent that only men possess.  My sniffles subsided and Brian pulled back from our embrace and handed me a Kleenex.  I sat on his desk and took off my apron stuffed full of my daily tips.  It clunked on the desk.   
“I’ll drive you home and make sure you get in ok.” Brian promised as he pushed a curl out of my eye.I looked at him intently. My blood was still pumping through my body from my narrow escape, but now it changed course to a  more southerly direction. Brian was married and at least twenty years older than me.  I know that I am a frightful mess and not the picture of desire, but in that moment, I wanted him. He was my knight in shining armor, and I felt a burning desire to show my appreciation. I tried to  shake off these thoughts.  

“Can you help me clean up?” I asked him and together we go back to the dining room to sweep and reset the tables.  We worked in silence for a hour and the other employees have already gone home.  My last task was to wheel the condiment cart into the walk in refrigerator, and Brian lends a hand.  I arranged the cart in while he put away the milk.  It was chilly and our breath came out in little puffs.  

“Thank you, Brian for helping me. I can’t believe that asshole!” I ranted and the anger I had been holding in spews out in a vicious string of obscenities that ended with me punching a bag of salad.  The bag splits, leaves fell to the cooler’s floor and I laughed.  Brian and I bent to clean them up and again I felt his heat.  I kissed his cheek, but my lips wander to his mouth.  My teenage tongue danced between his lips and I moved closer to him.  He pulled me in his arms and we balanced against  a large box of melons.  My fingers worked the buttons on my shirt and soon I was just  in my white cotton bra.  I shivered from the cold and Brian pulled me closer.  His hands ran up my back to undo the clasp.   My breasts puckered at the change in temperature and I felt his mouth cover my nipple and I groaned with pleasure.  I reached for his pants and his eyes flashed to mine.

“No.  I can’t.  We can’t. It’s ok. Let me take you home,’ Brian mumbled as he hands my my bra.

I hungrily looked at him and reached again for his belt.  He conceded and leaned back against a rack of produce.  I released his cock from his pants and knelt on the cold floor of the refrigerator.   I felt all the air squeeze from my chest and my world became fixated on that pulsing engorged flesh.  Brian guided my hand to touch him and I began to work my hand up and down his shaft.  My stomach was full of butterflies anticipating  what I knew would happen.  I allowed my lips to lick the pearl of wetness that had formed and my hungry mouth soon followed my hand’s rhythm.  My eyes met his and he stroked my jaw line before tangling his hands in my curls.  He pressed my head against him and I felt my throat tighten around his throbbing cock.  I wanted more.  I allowed my tongue to trace the head of his dick and heard him gasp as I lapped his shaft frantically.  I took him all the way down my throat and put his hand on the back of my head.  I wanted him to hold me in place and use my face for his own pleasure.   My hands gripped the back of his thighs  and he began to moan and thrust hard between my lips.  I felt him spurt hot against the back of my throat and I greedily swallowed.  I pulled back and one last ribbon of  cum spewed out from him and landed on my bare breasts.  My eyes widened at the massive globs of white creaminess splattered against me.   His knees finally buckled and he sat down on one of the boxes.  I wiped myself with my shirt and stood between his knees and kissed him.

“That was incredible,” he stammered as he watched me get dressed. “You know we can never do that again, darlin.”  He cupped my chin and kissed me once more.  He helped me gather my things and we locked up the restaurant, and he drove me home in silence. I never worked a solo shift again and Brian always gave me a wink when our paths crossed.