Chapter 02: New Reality Revelations
RECAP: I highly recommend you read the beginning of this series Training Teacher: The Seduction to find out how Julia became the submissive of one of her student’s parents. Part 2 takes places the very next morning, when she wakes up…still at her new Mistress’s home…at the foot of the bed.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to the adorable, sweet, sexy Julia.
Credit: A special thanks go to Steve B for his suggestions and Estragon for his copy edit.
CHAPTER 2: NEW REALITY REVELATIONS
I woke up in the morning from an amazingly surreal dream. A dream so vividly real I felt it had really happened. A dream that awoke in me a side I didn’t know existed. A dream where my greatest pain in the ass parent, someone I truly loathed, seduced me and turned me into her personal lesbian sub. It seemed so real, I could almost taste her on my lips.
I opened my eyes.
I sat up.
I was not in my bed.
I was at the foot of Constance’s bed, the parent that just yesterday was my biggest problem.
In one startling moment of clarity, I came to the frank realization that it was not a dream, but a harsh disturbing reality.
The events of the previous evening came flooding back to me. The aggressive seduction, her powerful orders, my need to obey and the earth shattering orgasms that followed. I closed my eyes and replayed last night in my head. Sure she had seduced me and sure she was incredibly aggressive and domineering, but I submitted to her willingly. I was not forced. I could have said no. But, the overwhelming feeling of freedom when I allowed Constance to make my decisions for me was liberating. The pressure, the stress, the loneliness of being a single mother, all vanished when I brainlessly followed the orders of the powerful Constance.
Part of me was mortified as I realized my current predicament, while another part of me was excited as I nervously waited for Constance to wake up. I desperately attempted to suppress the burning desire flaming in my loins as I tried to figure out how I was going to: one- deal with Constance; two- get home and dressed for work; three- get to work and explain why my vehicle was still at school; and four, most importantly, resist the growing temptation to submit to Constance again.
As I pretended to be asleep, my inner turmoil like a cresting wave coming crashing into the beach, I felt the bed move. I lay still like a statue. Anticipation resonated through my pores.
I was suddenly startled when I felt the bed shake briefly as someone seemed to get in. I was freaking out, realizing someone must have seen me in all my degrading servitude. I slyly attempted to peek and see who had joined us: who knew of my sexual debauchery? Sadly, I was right; someone was in bed with us. Unfortunately, all I could see from my awkward position was black heels and a woman’s ankle in black pantyhose.
My nervous curiosity didn’t last long. I heard the polite voice of Maeko Chung, Constance’s Japanese born, Chinese raised, maid and the mother of my best grade four student: “Good morning, Mistress.”
I felt some shuffling on the bed and Constance groggily respond, “Good morning, Maeko.” A lengthy silence followed before I began hearing soft moans and realized what Maeko was doing. I was shocked at the thought of the sweet, shy woman, doing what she was apparently doing. Yet my pussy was betraying me again, getting tingly while I quietly listened, like a voyeur, to the lesbian scene going on right beside me like I wasn’t there.
I briefly reminisced about the first time I was a silent bystander to a sexual performance. It was the summer after I graduated high school, and I was on a girls’-only camping trip. I was sharing a tent with Sierra, one of my three closest friends. We had partied pretty hard with a bunch of college boys and I, quite drunk and worried I might do something I would regret, called it a night. An hour later, I was woken up by a male voice. “What about your friend?”
“Don’t worry about Hannah, she is passed out. An earthquake wouldn’t wake her. Now let me take a look at what you got for me.”
Still being half asleep, I didn’t instantly realize what was happening a foot away. But the realization was made abundantly clear when the male voice mumbled, “That’s it baby, suck my cock.”
The loud slurping sound confirmed Sierra’s exhibitionist extra-curricular activity. A couple of minutes later, I felt a leg bump mine, some shuffling into Sierra’s sleeping bag, followed soon after by Sierra’s unmistakable high-pitched voice. “Yes harder, fuck me harder. Fuck me like a slut.”
I listened stunned, not remotely able to believe Sierra, the vigilant feminist of our close knit group, calling herself a slut or having some summer fling. It was her idea to make it a girls’-only trip, so the irony was obvious.
Still drunk myself, I unconsciously found myself touching myself. As the fucking continued inches away from me, I got wetter and wetter.
The guy taking Sierra’s own name-calling as an invitation to treat her like a slut began to verbally assault my good friend. “That’s it you fucking slut, take my big dick. Beg for me to fuck your tight cunt.”
I cringed at the word cunt. Sierra, being the extreme feminist she was, despised the derogatory term and ripped apart anyone, boy or girl alike, who had the audacity to say it in her presence. I waited for Sierra’s usual lambasting and feminist rant, but instead heard her say the word I never, in a million years, thought would ever be uttered from her lips, particularly used in the way she used it. “Yes, fuck my cunt. Pound me. Fill my cunt with that big hard cock of yours.”
I let out a little gasp of shock from hearing her use the forbidden ‘C’ word. My hand, having a mind of its own, began rubbing my clit faster and with more pressure. The verbal degradation of one of my best friends should have angered me, but instead only increased my desire to come.
I listened to the naughty act of sin like a perverted boy watching his first porn. Each time the guy called Sierra a cunt, slut, or whore, I put more pressure on my own cunt, imagining I was the slut whose cunt he was ravishing.
As Sierra screamed, “Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming,” I simultaneously had the most intense orgasm of my young life so far. I muffled my pleasure, terrified of being caught in such an intimate act; terrified that they might catch on to the fact that I had masturbated to their fucking. Suddenly mortified by my actions, I quickly moved my hand away from my liberated vagina and tried to make sense of what just happened.
I was brought back to my present reality when I heard Constance scream, “Yes Maeko, get Mommy off, yes, yes, yesssssss.”
Another silence lingered as I nervously waited for the inevitable.
“Maeko, excellent as always.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“Maeko, could you please wake up my guest with your special wake up call?”
“As you wish, Mistress.”
I held my breath, exciting trepidation overwhelming me. I felt hands pull the thin blanket off me. Warm hands opened my legs apart. I felt Maeko move between my legs. “Good morning, Ms. Hawkins.”
I opened my eyes, feigning surprise, but my very wet pussy gave away any pretence of innocence. “Good morning, Mrs. Chung.”
“Ahhh, my pet is awake. How are you this morning?”
“Goooood,” I moaned, Maeko’s tongue making contact just as I attempted to answer.
“Goooood,” Constance replicated mockingly, her condescending tone returning. Maeko licked my pussy with quick sharp licks, the teasing sensation driving me nuts. I wanted to shove her head into my cunt, to use her tongue as a small cock to fuck me.
Constance, recognizing my deliriously horny state from the teasing, said, “She’s fucking amazing isn’t she? I don’t know how she does it, but those teasing slaps she does with her tongue are one of a kind. Are you close to orgasm, my pet?”
Finding it hard to concentrate on Constance’s words, I mumbled through heavy breathing, “So close, Mistress.”
“Just tell the slut what you want. She always obeys completely. She was born to please.”
Desperate to come, I, out of character, ordered, “Finger me Maeko. Fuck my cunt.”
Obeying in record speed, she slipped not one, but two of her thin fingers inside my oasis of juice. As her fingers slid in and out of my pussy, Maeko took my clit into her mouth and sucked on it as she somehow simultaneously used her tongue to lick my clit. The dual pleasure was too much and I bellowed loud enough to wake the dead, “Oh my fucking God, fuck me, fuck me, yesssssssss.”
My body quaked and quaked, a seemingly never-ending flow of convulsions. Maeko quit fingering me and let go of my clit, but continued pleasing me gently by licking the juice from my pussy lips. My pussy lips, tender from the excessive attention of the last twelve hours, began to feel numb. I pushed Maeko away. “No more.”
It was like I had slapped her in the face. “I’m sorry if I didn’t please you, Ms. Hawkins.”
“Oh my God, no Maeko. You pleased me completely. So much in fact, my vagina is a bit tender now.”
“It’s called a cunt, my pet. Little children have vaginas,” Mistress Constance corrected.
“Sorry, Mistress. My cunt is sore from all the attention. It was been relatively neglected for quite some time, so all this sudden attention is a bit overwhelming.”
“Well, that won’t be a concern anymore,” Mistress guaranteed. She got off the bed and grabbed a robe. “Maeko will take you to the guest shower.”
“Thank you,” I absurdly replied. Constance ignored my words as she disappeared into her private washroom.
Maeko handed me a robe and I silently followed her to another bathroom. She offered, with a subservient smile, “If there is anything you need Ms. Hawkins, please ask.”
My face still flushed, I responded, “Thank you, I think I should be ok.”
Maeko walked away and I went into the washroom and turned on the shower. As the hot water washed away my sin, I realized I still had no solution to my problems. I bounced around different scenarios, but none seemed to get me back to normality. As I lathered my body, I thought back to how just yesterday afternoon I spent twenty minutes with Mrs. Chung, discussing her daughter’s unbelievable academic success. There was not even the slightest inkling of what was to happen. I was eternally grateful that I would not have another interview with her or Constance this year. I finished my shower and grabbed the robe just as there was a knock on the door.
I opened the door and Maeko handed me my bra and a blue dress. The dress was very cute and, thankfully, school-appropriate. I went to close the door, but Mrs. Chung stopped me. “I am supposed to help you with the dress and stockings, Ms. Hawkins.”
“Oh,” I responded, slightly dazed.
I put on my bra and my dress and stood shyly, odd after what she had just done to me, while she zipped my dress up for me. Once my dress was zipped, she asked me politely to sit on the toilet seat and proceeded to slowly put the thigh high stockings on my leg. The dark mocha colour really gave my legs a sexy look to them and my pussy began to tingle again as I felt Maeko’s gentle hands slide the silk up my legs. Her expert tongue so close to my cunt had me almost salivating as I relived in my head the pleasure she recently gave me. Once both stockings were on, Maeko stood up, “Is there anything else I can do for you Ms. Hawkins?”
Maeko’s face flushed, “Mistress doesn’t like any of her pets to wear underwear.”
“Oh,” I replied, slightly stunned by this newest piece of information.
She went to the door. “Follow me to the kitchen.”
I reached for her hand, dying to know the answer, “How did you become her, um, her….”
Maeko smiled genuinely at me as she finished my question. “How did I end up a full-service maid?”
“Yes, please tell me,” I exclaimed, thankful she understood my blabbering question and curious to know how Constance seduced her.
She retold the story, not once making eye contact with me. Her tone was not one of shame, but rather shyness. “I applied for the job as her maid two years ago. Mistress recognized me from some school function and the fact we had children in the same grade. She explained that she was a very demanding boss and expected perfection and total obedience from her help. I explained I was born in Japan, but grew up in China and lived in a home with a very domineering father and a mother with very high expectations. This seemed to please her and I was hired. For two months there was nothing obviously unique about the job; I even saw the Master of the house a few times. In retrospect, there were many small subtle things, but nothing that gave me any reason to be prepared for what would eventually be expected of me. For example, she often touched me gently whenever she spoke to me, she often complimented me on my appearance and she continually made alterations to my work outfit. What started as a simple maid outfit slowly changed into something much more provocative. The skirt got shorter and the blouse a little tighter. One day she informed me she expected her servants to always wear three-inch pumps. Although incredibly inconvenient for my job, I, of course, obeyed. Then two weeks ago I found a gift bag for me. In it were a dozen pairs of silk thigh high stockings with a note explaining she expected her servants to dress in classy stockings and not no-name pantyhose. I had never worn stockings before, nor did I even know such undergarments existed. It was clear she liked to demonstrate her power and our different social status. But once I put them on, I was surprised how sexual I felt and how good the silk felt on my legs.
Then the final deciding moment occurred. I came to work at my usual 6:30 time and found a note on the kitchen table to please come upstairs the moment I arrived. I followed the instruction and walked in on Mistress naked with a woman between her legs. I was stunned. I had never seen two women together. Mistress ordered me to the bed and once I reached her she explained that she was considering a major change in my duties. She explained that she wanted me to be a full-service maid. I didn’t respond, unclear of her intent. Mistress made it crystal clear as she ordered me to get on the bed and replace the girl who was currently serving her. I stood mystified by the request. She repeated her order, her tone domineering and clearly daring me to disobey. Without a word, I moved onto the bed and a very pretty woman, who I would later learn was the Mayor’s wife moved from between Mistress’s legs. I moved between them and waited further instructions. Mistress explained that while most people liked to wake up with an alarm and coffee, she liked to be woken up by having her cunt licked. She further explained that if I was to stay on as her maid, her full service maid, this would be one of my duties. She also added that the full service maid comes with many perks including a substantial raise, a vehicle, and a clothing allowance. I would like to say I resisted, that I was forced into this role, but I, like you I am guessing, obeyed on my own free will. Oh sure she was dominant and very intimidating, but I accepted my role all on my own. I leaned in and licked her cunt. I had no idea what I was doing, having never done it before, nor had I ever had it done to me before either, my husband seeing it as something only sluts did. I licked and nibbled until she began moaning and telling me not to stop. Once she orgasmed on my face, I felt a strange tingle flow throughout my body. I felt a thrill having pleased her in such a way. I also felt a strange feeling of power in being able to bring someone such joy. Mistress, once she recovered from her orgasm, asked if I accepted my new terms. I shook my head in acceptance and watched as a triumphant smile spread across her face. She went on to tell me that it was time to get my first bonus. She instructed the other woman to please me. I attempted to object; explaining I was married and had never had that done to me before. I was first scolded for questioning her and then comforted when she came to grips that I had never, ever, been pleasured by a tongue, even my husband’s. She explained she too was married and that Pamela Washington, the Mayor’s wife, was obviously also married. She went on to explain that no man can please a woman like another woman and it was time for me to learn the forbidden fruit of lesbian lust. Mistress instructed the stranger to show me exactly how good sex with a woman could be. The pretty woman aggressively flipped me onto my back and gave me pleasure I didn’t know was possible. I came in less than two minutes. That night I went online and read articles on how to please a woman. Over the next week I also watched online videos. I was determined to be excellent at it, like I strive to be excellent in everything else I do.”
“Wow,” was all I could muster. I hid the fact that her story of submission had made me horny yet again.
Oblivious to my horniness and awe, she suggested, “We better go. Mistress will be wondering. Patience is not one of her strong points.” For the first time in ten minutes, she allowed our eyes to meet. She let a smile break her usual mask of obedience.
I followed her to the kitchen and saw Mistress at a large table eating. I went to sit down at one of the seven empty chairs but was stopped. “Your spot is over here, my pet.”
She pointed beside her. Once I reached her, I again attempted to take a seat and was rebuffed a second time.
“No, no, no, my pet. Pets don’t eat at the table, they eat on the floor.”
My cheeks went red with humiliation. I glanced down and saw a plate with sausage, eggs and toast on the ground. A glass of orange juice and cutlery was beside it.
When I didn’t move, Constance asked, “Is there a problem, my pet?”
Mortified, insulted and enraged, I wanted to scream yes there is a fucking problem, a big fucking problem, but instead responded like a good pet, “No problem, Mistress.” I sat down on the hardwood floor.
“Good,” she purred. “I didn’t think I would have discipline issues with you.”
We ate in silence, shame burning through my entire being. Here I was a mother of one, a respected teacher in the community, being treated like a household pet. Would the humiliation ever end?
Once breakfast was done, Mistress Constance announced, “Well we better get you to work, my pet.”
I stood up and followed her outside to her vehicle. We drove in silence for a couple of minutes until Constance informed, “My pet, just so you know, anyone you see wearing the collar you have on is a sub of mine. Understand that as soon as they see you wearing the collar today, they will know you are mine too. Also, as the newest addition to my growing list of subs, you are on the bottom of the totem pole. In other words, you are to obey any command any other sub of mine requests, as long as it does not impact your family or job. Is that understood?”
I had no response. I did understand, but this was getting way out of control. I attempted to reason with her. “Mistress I do understand, but is there any way to keep this between you and me?”
“Are you ashamed to be my pet?”
I thought briefly about the question. I was ashamed, but not because I was her pet, but because I was so weak. I was ashamed that I enjoyed my submission so much and that even now in this non-threatening situation I was already looking forward to the next time. That said, I didn’t want the whole world, or anyone else for that matter, knowing what kind of sexual deviant I was. I tried to explain my feelings to her. “No, Mistress, I am not ashamed of you. I am ashamed by my weakness and afraid for others to know the truth.”
Her tone was sweet and caring, a surprising shift from her usual up front and blunt tone. “Oh, is that it? The only ones who will know have already submitted to me, my pet. They know exactly what you are feeling. They have been exactly where you are right now. They will actually help you come to grips with your new reality.”
“New reality,” I murmured.
She smiled, “Yes. Your life will never be the same. Everything you thought you knew about yourself has vanished and been replaced by a new reality. In this reality you need to accept your role as my submissive, my sub. A reality where you accept you have no control over certain parts of your life. The sooner you do, the easier your training from lonely divorcee to eager submissive will be. You were not a happy woman when I met you. You were lost and lonely and searching for that missing piece. You just didn’t know what that missing piece was. You were searching for something that only someone like me could give you. You needed me. It is obvious, you desperately need to be told what to do, more so than any of my other subs, quite frankly. Your personality is submissive. Accept it.”
I tried to process this lengthy assessment of my character. As much as I would like to deny such an extreme assessment of who I am, I couldn’t. Everything she said was true. As I was about to respond, we arrived in the staff parking lot. Anxiety washed over me as I worried who might see me get out of her car.
Seeing my nervousness she chuckled, “No one is going to see you leaving a person’s vehicle and know that you are a cunt-licking sub who needs to have a Mistress, my pet.”
Of course she was right, although her vivid language had me red again. The best way to hide the truth was to act normal.
Her hand went under my dress. “You are pretty wet, my pet.”
I blushed, knowing she was indeed right.
Her finger slipped easily in my cunt and she finger-fucked me slowly. Smiling, she teased, “Aren’t you the least bit curious who else has submitted to me?”
I moaned, “Yes, Mistress, I am both curious and scared.”
Her fingers left my cunt and she licked off my juices. “I have to admit, my pet, you are fucking delicious.”
I couldn’t believe how happy I felt hearing such an absurd compliment. “Thank you, Mistress.”
Breaking the brief moment of intimate sweetness, she abruptly asked me to leave. “Now get out of here, I have an appointment in twenty minutes.”
I obeyed, getting out of the vehicle. She drove away and I walked towards the school, no one else knowing of my inner turmoil or my sexual descent.
I kept my head down as best I could and made it to my classroom without seeing a colleague. I prepared for my day and jumped like a guilty criminal when Alice came into my room. I noticed she did not have a collar on her neck and gave a silent sigh of relief. She asked how my Pederson interview went and I replied not as I expected, which was the understatement of the millennium. We chatted briefly about trivial work crap and she left.
Until recess, the morning came and went without any drama. I was on supervision this week and could no longer avoid all the potential colleagues who may soon learn of my, what did Mistress call it, new reality.
I did supervision was again grateful that both other supervisors were men. I made it back to my class and led my students to the library for their weekly book reading. I had my students sit on the floor in the reader’s corner like I usually did and sat down at the back so I could watch all my students. They seldom misbehaved, but every once in a while….
I was chatting with one of my students when Mrs. Hamilton began to read. I didn’t look up right away. She greeted the class. “Good morning, grade fours.”
The class replied in attempted unison, “Good morning, Mrs. Hamilton.”
I still hadn’t really paid much attention, distracted by a couple of students who had not yet settled down. “Today’s story is about secrets.”
Her deliberate hinting tone startled me. I looked up to our late 40s librarian, and recognized the collar on her neck. I gazed into her eyes and she gave me an all too knowing smile. I quickly broke eye contact and began to hyper-ventilate. I attempted desperately to control my breathing while Mrs. Hamilton read the story.
I zoned out as she read, trying to wrap my head around the realization that our married, mother of six, librarian, was one of Constance Pederson’s subs. If Mary Hamilton, the jolly, outgoing, rather chubby British librarian was a sub, then anyone on our staff was a possibility. Every female staff member flashed in my head, each now a real possibility to be a lesbian submissive.
I was brought back to the present when Mary’s tone changed for certain words in the story. I began to listen as it became clear she was attempting to give me a message, tease me or test me; possibly all. As she continued to read the story, she continued to stress certain words like: obey, secret, bad, surprised, ecstatic and soon. I took the coded message as a clear indication that Mary was thrilled I had joined this exclusive secret club and that she planned to do something to me soon.
As soon as the story was done, I ordered my students back to class, hoping to get out of the library without having to have a conversation with Mary. Alas, Mary made sure that didn’t happen. She instructed our students to sit down as our librarian assistant read a second story to them.
Mary invited me to her office and I reluctantly and nervously followed. She closed the door and immediately spoke. “I can’t believe it was you. Mistress said she planned to add one more sub to her group from this school, but I never considered you as an option.”
Much to my surprise, I got defensive, feeling insulted that she didn’t think I was good enough for Constance. “And why wasn’t I an option?” I cattily asked.
The librarian smiled and laughed genuinely. “Oh don’t take it personally, Hannah. I just thought you were too strong to be broken by her. But I guess if she can have Betty crawling on the floor licking all the cum after an eight person gangbang, no one is impossible.”
“Eight person gangbang? Principal Pierce?” I mumbled in complete disbelief.
“Oh yes. Betty questioned Constance in front of a couple other subs and was punished by being gangbanged by the college football team. She wore a mask so the boys didn’t know who they were coming on and in. After all eight shot their loads, our dear Principal was ordered to clean the floor with her mouth.”
I didn’t say a word. If my mouth could drop to the floor like in those Roger Rabbit cartoons, mine would have. Finally I asked the question I was dreading, “How many others are there?”
“Here or total?”
“At this school you are number five; in our school division at least another five; if you add others in the community at least twenty-five or thirty.”
The numbers hit through me like a tornado touching the surface after spinning for days. “Twenty-five or thirty,” I muttered.
“Yep. But I am thrilled she chose you.”
“Yes, I have had a crush on you for a long time,”
“You have?” I questioned, in a haze of flattered confusion.
“Oh yes, but now is not the time to get into that conversation. You should get back to your students, but we are not done here, my dear.”
I nodded in acknowledgement and returned to the library. Once back in my class, I cursed that I didn’t ask who the other two were. I made it to lunch, barely, my nerves near the brink of a complete Lindsay Lohan type of collapse.
I went to the cafeteria to grab some lunch. I checked slyly for any other collars, now wanting to know. None of the cafeteria ladies were wearing the symbol of submission. I grabbed my lunch and returned to my room without any further incident. As I ate my lunch, I couldn’t decide what was more stressful: actually finding out who the other subs were or waiting to find out.
Just as I finished my lunch, I was paged to the office. I tossed my plate in the trash and headed to the office. I wasn’t overly worried about seeing a collar in the office. Our secretary was 55 and a sweet grandma who often baked cookies for the staff. Our Vice-principal was a male so he was safe. Lastly, although I now knew that Principal Pierce was a sub, she was always on supervision patrol at lunch, so it was very unlikely she would be in the office. That said, my nerves began to shake as I approached the office.
I reached the office and let out a gasp. Our sweet-as-cotton-candy secretary was wearing the same declaration of obedience I was. I couldn’t even begin to fathom a situation where she would submit sexually to Mrs. Peterson could transpire. It was completely unfathomable. She greeted, in her usual sweet voice, “I heard you had joined our group.”
“You?” I asked, unbelievably.
She shrugged, “I really had no choice. None of us do.”
Still in a state of shock, “How?”
“All in good time, my dear, all in good time,” the collared secretary said. “Ms. Pierce will see you now.”
I took a deep breath and walked into our ice queen of a principal’s office and closed the door.
“I suggest you lock the door, Hannah,” Ms. Pierce recommended.
Expecting the worst, I did as suggested and locked the door.
I turned around. Ms. Pierce was at her desk, a devious smile on her face, “Well hi there, Hannah. How was last night?”
As expected, the collar was on her neck. I looked down, avoiding eye contact, but instead got another surprise. A pair of heels was protruding out from under Ms. Pierce’s desk. I returned my confused, stunned, nervous and uncomfortable gaze back to Ms. Pierce. Then suddenly anger filled me when it occurred to me that she played a prominent part of yesterday’s seduction. “You knew about this,” I accused.
She shrugged, like it was no big deal, “Yes, I did, Hannah. It wasn’t my idea, but when Mistress explained her plan to seduce you I assisted as requested.”
“Oh don’t play victim on me. You desperately needed this.”
“How could you possibly know this?” I asked, my anger bubbling to the surface.
“Am I wrong?”
“That’s not the point,” I replied angrily.
Ms. Pierce’s tone shifted from conversational to authoritative, “Look Hannah, it no longer matters, does it? You, like me, Donna, Mary and the dyke between my legs, are subs to Mistress Constance. How it happened doesn’t matter. We are the chosen few.”
I glared at her, curiosity of who was under the desk beginning to nag at me. “You had no right.”
“Hannah, this is getting old. I want to ask you a simple question. Would you go back in time eighteen hours if you could and do anything different?”
My rage began to simmer. I considered the question and had mixed emotions. On the one hand, today had been the most stressful day in my life and I was an emotional mess…and it was only lunch. If I could go back to when life made sense, life would be so much easier. Yet, on the other hand, I had never felt so liberated and never felt so free as I had last night. Giving myself mind and body to someone was the freest I had ever felt, and I definitely wanted to have that feeling again. Not to mention I had never felt such sexual pleasure as I did last night and this morning.
Her moans were also distracting and I couldn’t help but have a growing part of me want to be the girl under the desk. I tried to erase the image from my head, but it kept remerging. I hated this bitch.
“I’ll take your long silence as a no you wouldn’t change yesterday. Am I right?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, defeated.
“Come here,” she ordered.
I tentatively obeyed.
“Now just so you know, we don’t usually have sex at school, but today is a special day. It isn’t every day we get an addition into our special group.”
I held my breath, oddly hoping to be told what to do.
“On your knees, Hannah.”
Remembering Mistress’s instructions to obey every command from a collared woman, I obeyed, my pussy already beginning to leak.
“You want to please me, don’t you?”
Although my mind wanted to yell ‘no, I don’t, you fucking bitch,’ my body was in control and I heard myself almost beg, “Yes, Ms. Pierce.”
“Yes what, Hannah?” she asked, definitely attempting to exert her power over me.
Frustrated, horny and surprisingly eager to please and obey my bitch of a principal, “Yes, I want to please you.”
Fuck she really wanted to put me in my place. Frustrated and wanting to show a bit of a spine, I decided to answer boldly, “I want to crawl under your desk and replace the slut currently pleasing you.”
Mrs. Pierce smiled, obviously happy with my naughty and submissive answer. Wanting confirmation and using my own words, “You are offering to replace the slut between my legs.”
Ms. Pierce rolled her chair back and allowed the slut, as I called her, to crawl out from underneath her desk.
Who I saw, face glistening in cunt juice, was one last shocking surprise. I was face to face with my best friend for the past three years, my neighbour, Amy. Her facial expression, like mine I am sure, was one of complete embarrassment. Her eyes seemed to be pleading an apology. I couldn’t believe it. Amy the married mother of two, a four year old and an 18 month old, was also a sub. It seemed so improbable, I still didn’t believe it even though I was currently witnessing it.
Ms. Pierce, clearly amused by the last revelation and my reaction to it, asked, “Are you going to get under there or what? Class begins in fifteen minutes.”
I gave one last look back at Amy, whose expression was unreadable, before I disappeared under my Principal’s desk. She rolled her chair back and her pussy was instantly in front of me. Much to my surprise, it was quite hairy, although I couldn’t see that well under the desk. I leaned forward and began to please my principal, the person who, before yesterday, was number three on my most hated list, behind only my bastard of an ex-husband and Constance. Due to the abundance of hair surrounding her cunt, the pleasing was substantially more challenging than my first time yesterday licking Mistress Constance’s shaved pussy. Oddly, her aroma was intoxicating, seemingly held in by her pubic hair. Concerned about time, I used my finger to fuck her as I attempted to lick her. Luckily, Amy already had her very wet and the double pleasure I gave her had her moaning rather quickly and I knew when she squeezed her legs tight against my head she was close. I hooked my finger inside her cunt, searching for her G-spot. Although slightly elusive, once I found it, her legs pulled me in and she came all over my mouth. I continued to lap at her juices until the chair rolled away. I quickly crawled from underneath the desk and stood up, desperate to end this humiliation. I perused the room, but Amy was gone.
“Wow, for a rookie, you have great potential.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I replied, not sure whether that was necessarily a good thing.
“You better go clean up before you return to class.”
She pointed to the bathroom in her office. I washed up and was thankful that I was not much of a make-up person. I returned to Ms. Pierce’s office.
“One last thing, Hannah.”
I feared what else there could possibly be. “Yes,” I replied, my tone going for annoyed.
“When we are alone, you may call me Betty.”
“Ok, Betty,” I responded, the name sounding odd and slightly bitter on my lips.
I left her office and returned to class. Knowing all four of Mistress’s other subs lifted a major burden. The anxiety I was feeling had dissipated and was replaced by dread and I pondered my next conversation with Amy. When had she submitted? Why didn’t I know? She taught Devon last year after returning from maternity and complained about him as well. Then suddenly it stopped. That must have been when she submitted, over a year ago.
Amy had become my best friend since we started teaching together three years ago. Last year, she moved across the street from me and we bonded even more. I was still married then, but when my marriage ended she was the one there for me. She listened, she supported, and she even played a little tough love to help get me back on my feet. She knew everything about me, until my life-altering change last night. I thought I knew everything about her, but apparently I didn’t.
The day ended finally. I had just finished packing up for the night when Amy came to visit. She closed the door and sat on top of one of the student’s desks. I noticed, for the first time, that the skirt she was wearing, while school appropriate, had a generous slit that when sitting like she was, revealed she was wearing thigh highs. A small smirk crossed my face, realizing she and I were now in the same predicament.
Amy broke the awkward silence, “Hannah, I am so sorry I never told you before.”
I whispered, as if people could hear our perverse conversation beyond these four walls, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have told me? Plus, how does one tell their best friend such a humiliating reality? It is not something that comes up in everyday conversation. Hi, how was your day? Good I bought a new outfit, tried a new recipe and, oh yeah, I became Constance Pederson’s submissive slave.”
I laughed. What else was there to do? She was right. Our situation was absurd and it is extremely unlikely, 99.9999 percent that I would have told Amy my situation if it hadn’t come out the way it did. “I’m sorry, Amy, I am not mad at you, I am mad at myself.”
Amy hopped off the desk to comfort me, wrapping her arms around me. Yesterday this would have been a simple friendly hug between two women, but today it could mean so many other things. She spoke gently, “Hannah, it is ok. I have accepted my role as her sub and for the most part it is not much different than before it occurred. She doesn’t expect a lot of my time, but she does expect total obedience.”
Tears ran down my cheeks like a rapid flowing river. “I couldn’t resist, Amy. I tried, but I couldn’t. Then to make matters worse, I really enjoyed it.”
“It’s ok, Hannah,” Amy comforted, “It’s ok.”
“No, it’s worse,” I blurted, “I crave it. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
“Trust me, Hannah, I understand. I was in the same situation you were, just a year ago.”
“How did it happen to you?” I blubbered through a wave of tears.
She rubbed my back, “The same as you I think. It was parent-teacher interviews and one minute I am defending the critical comments on Devon’s report card and next thing I know she was fingering me at my desk. Half an hour later, I was at her house and the rest is still a blur.”
“How do we end it?”
Amy asked sincerely, “Do you really want to end it? I know your next month will be intense as she tests you to make sure you will be loyal. But after that, things settle down.”
“Yes…no…I don’t know,” I blabbered, an incoherent mess, as I backed up a bit.
“It’s ok, Hannah. It will take some time to come to grips with what has happened. I know it is very overwhelming.”
“That is an understatement,” I joked, attempting to lighten the tense mood.
“But seriously, Hannah, I am always here for you. If you need to talk about this, I am here to listen.”
“I know, Amy, it’s just I don’t even know where to begin. I feel angry, confused, ashamed, lost, embarrassed, and mortified. Yet, I also feel excited, needed, and important. If that makes any sense,” I attempted to explain, not remotely understanding myself.
“I completely understand Hannah. I have been through every emotion you are feeling as well. I have only recently accepted the reality of who I am.” Amy paused, her eyes swimming directly into mine. She took a deep breath and nervously announced, “Hannah, I have to tell you something, I have wanted to tell you for quite some time.”
I wiped my tears away from my eyes, before looking directly into hers. “Amy, you can tell me anything. Apparently, you know everything about me.”
“I am a lesbian, Hannah. I have known this for a long time, but I had never completely come to grips with it. So when Constance seduced me, I didn’t even attempt to fight it. I wanted it. I needed it. She saw that in me and she seemed to have seen it in you too. Now I don’t mean I am bi or just a submissive for Mistress Constance. I mean I am in love with a woman. A beautiful, sexy, smart, sweet woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
I was shocked by this admission; she seemed to be happily married. I could only recall a handful of times she had complained about Eric. Being a good friend, “It’s Ok, Amy, I love you for who you are, the same way I know you love me and accept me. You mean the world to me Amy and I will be there for whatever you need.” As soon as I acknowledged this, I knew it was true. Amy was my lifeline, the one who was there whenever I needed it, selflessly helping me through my divorce, my job and even looking after my daughter Elaine.
It was Amy’s turn to break down. Tears flowed down her cheeks like wine. Suddenly I wanted to taste them. I took my finger and caught a tear and placed it to my lips. The sweetness warmed me. Amy was about to say something, but fearing it would break this intimate moment and a thirst I was desperate to quench, I was impulsive for one of the first times in memory. I leaned in and kissed her. I didn’t think first, I just let my instincts take over. She had been my best friend for a long time and this seemed so natural after a long day of very unnatural things. She returned the kiss and soon we were having our first kiss. We kissed for maybe a minute and just as I could feel the tingle in my spine flow up my back and my pussy began to feel that special warmth, Amy broke the kiss.
She looked directly into my eyes, “Hannah, I don’t want to take advantage of you during such a vulnerable time.”
“I kissed you,” I pointed out, tapping her nose with my finger.
“Are y-y-you s-sure?” Amy stuttered, her nervousness clearly prevalent.
“One hundred percent,” I responded, being sure about something for the first time in the last twenty-hour strange hours.
“Hannah,” Amy’s tears began to flow again, “It’s you!”
“Yes it is,” I responded, kiddingly, unclear of her intent.
“No, Hannah. I love you.”
“I love you too, Amy.”
“No, Hannah. I love you, love you. I love you in the I want-to-divorce-my-husband-move-in-with-you-and-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you kind of love you.”
Suddenly the world stopped. In this brief moment of clarity, a moment that only happens a couple times in one’s lifetime, I saw her, my life and the world for what it was. She was the one. And if it took the complete humiliation of submitting to Constance to realize what was right in front of my eyes, well so be it. Fate had a funny way of playing, but I wasn’t going to let this chance of happiness slip through my hands. “I love you too,” I proclaimed, my whole body warming inside, telling my heart the words I returned were true.
The smile on her face and the glow in her cheeks radiated from her as she hugged me again. An embrace so sweet, so tender, that I was putty in her arms. In her embrace, I felt at home for the first time since before my marriage collapsed. I felt love.
It’s funny though, the awkward silence that follows a declaration of love. She looked at me words on the tip of her tongue and I returned the gaze with words on the tip of mine.
Finally, Amy broke the silence, “Well now what?”
“Well, bastard who shall remain nameless has Elaine until 8 o’clock tonight. So let’s go to my place and talk in private. My mind is already thinking of a trillion questions to ask you and another part of me is thinking of a trillion things to do to you.”
“Oh my, Hannah,” Amy exclaimed, “If I had only known sooner.”
“I myself didn’t know, so how could you know?” I shrugged, reaching for my bag. “Meet you at my place?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Amy guaranteed and followed me out of my class and to the parking lot.
During the drive home, away from Amy, I had time to think rationally. Did I really love her or was it just the heat of the moment? After a pros and cons list like I always do in my head, I concluded that yes, I loved her. Not just a friend love, but indeed a ‘I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you’ kind of love. Was I ready for such love? I realized whether I was ready or not, it was here, and my heart was speaking for me. The excitement of being in love and in a relationship with my best friend was countered by the fact that I had a six-year-old daughter and she had two young children. My daughter, obviously, knew Amy really well and called her Auntie. How would I explain this to my daughter? Or would I? Was I ready for the complications that came with a relationship, especially a same-sex relationship? I arrived at my house with all these questions swirling in my head and not an answer in sight. My horniness was long gone and replaced by excessive anxiety. I began to place roadblock after roadblock on my relationship before it started.
Luckily for my over-reactive brain, Amy pulled up into her driveway and I had to suppress the million nagging thoughts pecking at my brain.
Once inside, I grabbed a bottle of wine, filled both our glasses and brought the bottle with me to the living room. Amy was sitting down on the couch and I handed her a glass of wine and sat down beside her like I always had. We looked at each other and as soon as I saw the twinkle in the green of her eyes and the resonating warmth of her smile, my worries disappeared. She sipped her wine and asked concerned, as she put her hand on my stocking-covered knee, “Are you sure, Hannah?”
The warmth of her hand had me instantly distracted and instantly feeling the heat down below. And although I was not remotely sure what the future held, or if there was really a chance for us to be a real couple, I answered with all my heart, “I have never been surer of anything in my life, Amy.”
Her smile grew wider and she took my wine glass and put both on the table. Returning to me, she put both hands on my cheeks and, without a word, leaned in for a kiss. I could feel fireworks explode in my head as our lips touched and her tongue slipped inside my mouth. The kiss began soft and tender, but slowly grew in heat and passion. We were making out like two teenagers on a first date, our tongues exploring every crevice of each other’s mouths. My breathing got heavier and I became desperate to do more. My hands began to explore Amy’s body. She did the same. Her hands caressing my arms and legs had me weak at the knees and I was thankful to be sitting. As if hearing my inner thoughts, Amy broke the kiss and pulled me up. She fumbled with my zipper as she fervently attempted to get my dress off. Once off, she gently pushed me back onto the couch and onto my back. I lay on the couch like prey, and as my predator looked me over, I could sense her need to devour me. Her smile of lust was like an aphrodisiac and I was desperate to be the main course. Much to my surprise, and at first disappointment, she didn’t devour me whole. Instead I became a full course meal. She took off my heels and took my pinkie toe in her mouth. She sucked on it, in essence making love to my toe. She continued this erotic teasing, taking each of my toes into her mouth and repeating the sensual tease. My moans continued with each toe. She followed the slow seduction, by repeating the process with my other foot. Time stood still as she savoured each of my toes through the sheer nylon. Once the last toe had been individually pleased, she lifted my foot up straight and licked the sole of my foot. It tickled slightly, but the sensation was unbelievable. She didn’t seem to miss an inch of my foot. Again, she repeated the process on my other stocking-clad foot, making me a bowl of jelly and she hadn’t even touched any of my special spots.
Speaking for the first time in fifteen minutes, “How are you doing, Hannah?”
“Exquisite,” I replied, being a bit coy.
“Oh, I haven’t even gotten started, my pet.”
‘My pet’. A chill went up my spine at Amy using the same pet name that Mistress Constance had just yesterday used in her seduction of me. I wondered if that meant she was my Mistress too, or was it just word play? I left the question unanswered. I was again distracted by the touch of Amy’s lips, which were ever so gently kissing my ankle and slowly, like a turtle walking, moved up my leg. As Amy’s head moved closer to my vagina, I thought I might explode. Her erotic teasing had me where I had never been before. Her head finally reached my pussy. She paused and deliberately made eye contact with me. She smiled and extended her tongue. Her tongue lightly brushed my pussy lips, yet another tease. After less than fifteen seconds of attention to my desperate pussy, she moved away and down my other leg. I thought I would explode, my body reacting to the incredible tease. She continued down my leg, kissing and nibbling my entire body. Once she reached my foot, she paused, bit my toe gently and slid her tongue up my entire leg. Again she reached my pussy and again she gave nothing more than a tease, rolling over it as she progressed up my body. She kissed my belly, tongued my belly button and moved up to my breasts.
Speaking for the first time in minutes, she ordered, although gently, “Take your bra off, Hannah.”
I moved up a bit and obeyed the command, allowing my small breasts to come free.
Amy purred, “Your nipples are hard, baby. Is that because of me?”
“Yes,” I moaned back, slightly embarrassed at how excited she had made me. “You are driving me crazy.”
Amy winked, “I am going to make love to you Hannah. Every part of you needs to be worshipped.”
I blushed even more, I imagine. Amy pushed me back onto my back and began kissing my breasts. At first she kissed and licked my breasts, occasionally allowing her tongue or lips to lightly touch my nipple. The teasing was both exhilarating and frustrating. I was not used to having my body worshipped. I was used to my body being used for the pleasure of others, by my ex-husband, the few boys I dated back in the day and most recently last night by Mistress Constance. I wanted to be fucked, to be used and was not sure how to deal with this gentleness. As if she heard my inner thoughts, she began to bite my breasts and once on each breast she sucked my nipple into her mouth. I let out a loud moan, her warm mouth on my nipples allowing a chill to flow up my spine. Amy continued up my body to my neck, another weak spot, and finally my ear, my ultimate wet spot. As her hot breath and tongue bathed my ear, she repositioned her knee so it was directly against my pussy. I let out more of a scream than a moan, while Amy whispered, “You like that, baby?”
“Yes,” I whimpered, my body completely at her every whim.
She bit my ear, harder than expected, before our lips met again. I attempted to hint to her my eagerness to come as I kissed her with reckless passion. Desperate to come, I attempted to rub my pussy on Amy’s leg in an attempt to get off. Amy broke the kiss, “No, no, baby. All in good time, baby. Just let Amy treat you like you need to be treated.”
I began, “Please Amy, I need….”
But she put her finger to my lips, “Shhhh, baby, just let Amy take care of you. I promise you it will be worth the wait.”
She moved back down my body, her tongue again meandering haphazardly on my skin. Once she reached my now wet pussy, she ordered, “Turn around, baby.”
I obeyed and was on my knees, my arms resting on the couch. I couldn’t see her well, but could feel her tongue and lips on my ass. She worshipped my ass like she had the rest of my body: with kisses, licks, nibbles and bites. I was a horny mess by this time. She pushed my ass slightly forward and pulled my ass cheeks apart. Much to my surprise, I felt her tongue on my rosebud. I couldn’t believe it. My best friend, who had been with me through thick and thin, was now tonguing my asshole. It was really incomprehensible. Even more shocking was how good her tongue felt in my taboo area. I let out another moan, the teasing and random pleasing driving me mad. Suddenly, without warning, I felt a finger slip inside my pussy.
“Aaaaahh,” I bellowed, shocked by the sudden penetration and just as equally thrilled by it.
Amy pumped her fingers in and out of my soaking wet pussy for a brief time and just as suddenly pulled them out, leaving my pussy an abandoned mess.
“Please Amy, put them back in,” I begged, pushing my ass back, blindly attempting to find her fingers.
Amy spanked my ass, not hard, but not playful either. “Patience, baby, patience,” she instructed in a tone that hinted at dominance. I wanted to yell at her to quit teasing me and just fuck me, but I didn’t. A second slap on my ass followed, slightly harder, and she commanded, “Baby, turn back around.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I accidently replied. I attempted to correct myself, “I-I-I ….”
“Mistress,” Amy mused, her finger slowly caressing my inner thigh. Her tone shifting to serious, “Do you want me to be your Mistress, Hannah?”
Her eyes bored into me, her smile not giving away whether she was serious or not. Unsure what to say, I finally stammered, “I-I-I-um.”
“You do want me to be your Mistress, don’t you baby?” Before I could respond and admit my true desire to be her loyal, willing, unconditional sub, she, thankfully, went between my legs and began licking. After all the gentleness of the past hour, I was expecting a similar tenderness when she finally began licking me. Instead, I got an all out assault on my pussy. She went directly to my clit and sucked on it, attempting to swallow it whole. I let out an earth shattering scream the moment my best friend’s mouth made contact. I orgasmed in only a few seconds. As the orgasm quaked through my entire being, Amy let my clit slip out of her mouth, but kept licking. The continued licking of my cunt with constant pressure from Amy, kept my juices flowing and as the first orgasm began to dissipate, a second orgasm was already building. Amy kept licking, moving her whole head up and down, almost like she was bobbing on a cock. I watched closely, mesmerized by the sight of my beautiful, sweet, compassionate best friend, pleasuring me in a way I couldn’t even have begun to imagine twenty-four hours ago. Her eyes met mine and I blushed, feeling like I had just been caught stealing from the cookie jar. Yet, unlike shy and insecure me, I didn’t break eye contact. Instead I continued to gaze into the eyes of my best friend. She seemed to smile, although it was hard to tell with her mouth full of my pussy. She began to hum on my pussy lips, and a new sensation hit me. Almost instantly, a second orgasm flowed through me even greater than the first. I screamed, “Oh my God Amy, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
Amy obliged, continuing to lick my soaking wet cunt. My juices flooded out of me like a tidal wave. My best friend licked and licked, continuing to please me as I almost hyperventilated from the pure pleasure. She slowed down while I slowly attempted to regain my breath. Just when I thought I was done, Amy surprised me again. She suddenly slid two fingers into my cunt. The suddenness made me scream in delicious joy and while she finger-fucked me hard and fast, she took my clit back in her mouth. Again unaware of my words, I screamed, “Yes Mistress, make your slut cum. Fuck her hard.” The intense double pleasure was too much and a third powerful orgasm hit me with full force. I realized my words only after they escaped my mouth. Amy didn’t say anything while she continued pleasing me. Long past propriety, I continued my vocal babble, “Fuck, Amy, I have never felt so good. Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkk.”
The intense pressure was too much, my pussy raw from the constant coming and I had to push Amy’s expert mouth away. “Stop, stop, oh my God, I can’t take anymore.”
Amy’s smile was one of pure satisfaction. She stood up and said, her tone a bit more powerful than I had ever heard from her, “Ok, pet. Calling me Mistress once could be seen as a slip of the tongue, but twice, well that is curious.” She took off her shirt. Once off, she discarded it on the floor. While she unzipped her skirt, she explained, “Baby, you are completely submissive aren’t you?”
“I think so,” I whispered, somewhat ashamed.
Her skirt fell to the floor, displaying a beautiful shaved pussy, with a nice patch of hair above her clit. Her eyes never left mine. “So baby, are you ready to please me?”
I wanted nothing more. This time I knew exactly what I was saying when I responded, “Yes, Mistress Amy.”
Amy directed me to come to her using only her finger. I surprised her, I think, when I got on the floor and crawled the few feet to her. Suddenly anxiety filled me. I so desperately wanted to please her, I was worried I would be a disappointment, especially after what she had just done do me. She asked, “You want to taste your Mistress’s pussy, baby?”
“Yes, Mistress Amy,” I responded, “but I am worried I won’t please you the way you just pleased me.”
“Oh baby, just do what is natural,” she comforted.
Following her instructions, I sat up on my knees and began to lick Amy’s pussy while she stood. As soon as my tongue made contact with her pussy, she moaned, “That’s it baby, lick my pussy.”
Although difficult to get comfortable, I continued licking her pussy lips, her heavenly scent and taste were an amazing assault on my senses. Deciding to attempt to tease her and at the same time show her I wanted to be her submissive, I moved away from her delicious nectar and kissed her thigh. I slowly, like she had done to me, moved down her leg, kissing gently her stocking-clad leg. When I reached her foot, I bent down and kissed her perfectly manicured toes, like a servant waiting further instruction.
“Baby, you really are the most submissive woman I have ever met. You get wet being told what to do, don’t you baby?”
“Yes,” I answered, no longer even ashamed by the reality of who I really was.
“Kiss my feet, baby, suck my toes like a good little sub,” she ordered.
“Yes, Mistress Amy,” I eagerly responded, happy to be told exactly what to do. No longer surprisingly, my pussy began to get a special tingling again.
I sucked each of her toes one at a time, as she had mine. I took my time, attempting to suck each toe in my mouth like a small cock. Pleasing her feet so thoroughly was exciting, although a bit difficult because of the sheer nylons on her feet. Once done, I moved to her other foot and repeated the gentle pleasure.
Once I was finished, her breathing now heavier, she asked, “Do you have any toys?”
“Just a vibrator.”
“Well we will have to work on adding to your collection, baby,” she advised. Sitting on the couch, she ordered, “Go get it, baby.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I obeyed and began to get up.
“No, no, baby. I like you on all fours like a good sub, a good pet. I want to watch you crawl and get it. Bring it back to me in your mouth like you are carrying a bone.”
I fell back on all fours, “Yes, Mistress, your wish is my command.” I crawled away, feeling her eyes bearing down on me. Such an order should have humiliated me, yet it actually made me hornier. The feeling of complete submission, of unconditional obedience, was liberating. And, unlike with Mistress Constance, where I never felt safe and was always nervous and scared, with Amy I felt completely at home and safe, completely comfortable and eager to make her happy. The stairs were a bit awkward at first and somewhat humiliating, but I fulfilled the instructions, retrieving my fuck-toy and returning on all fours with the toy in my mouth. If going up the stairs was awkward, going down was an adventure in balance. I went slowly, scared to stumble down the stairs, but also determined to not disobey a direct order.