Susanna Valent - The Principal - A Novel of Lesbian Love

Now I was the one who had to hang onto the stool for dear life. As she rubbed her sloppy twat for me, and oozed out onto the mat, and licked the toecaps of my combat boots, it was all I could do to keep from touching myself!

“Good girl. Let me feel some tongue. Are you coming?” I asked smoothly.

“Y-y-yes,” she gasped.

“Stop!” I shouted.

“Oh, please, please,” she begged. “You have no idea…"

“I have more of an idea than you think, slut,” I said, opening my pants all the way back to the crack of my ass. I yanked her head up to my crotch. “Lick me. Both hands on my ass. Now."

Oh, God, it was heaven. Her mouth was so greedy. It was as if she had been starving for it. I had been there, too, so many times, even in my own marriage. When she threw her arms around me, she almost knocked me over. As scrawny as she looked, she was dense with muscle and I was excited and shocked to feel her strength. I had thought she would be a pushover. I was wrong and I was thrilled to discover it. I definitely didn't want her to stop, but the professional in me took over.

“Get off me, you scrawny little excuse for a woman! Fuck yourself right now! Come at my feet while you kiss my boots!” I hollered. They loved to hear the words that described their fetishes. For emphasis, I gave her fanny a couple of good whacks with the crop.

She yelped, dropped to her belly and crawled back to my feet, reached under herself and in about ten seconds, she was rolling around and screaming with release. “Oh, Jesus God! Oh, God, Major! Yes! Yes!” she howled. Her body was really a piece of work, and she looked so sensuous and healthy as she unconsciously showed it off to me. She was really in peak condition and for a woman her age, that was no mean feat.

I gave her about 30 seconds to recover and then yanked her head up again. “Finish me,” I demanded. “Get ready for me to come all over your face.” I backed to the stool and held her head in place. The pressure in my groin was amazing. I wouldn't let her breathe until I had bucked and spilled myself on her.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhh!” I shouted as I came. I had learned not to say names or anything like a plea or a sound of relief. Dominants were expected to sound authoritative even when we were feeling anything but.

“Get down on your back. Get down,” I panted. I quickly knelt over her and rammed my knee viciously into her pussy. When she was close to orgasm again, I sat and pulled her tight against the sole of my boot and held her there while she came on it. Her butt pounded up and down on the mat. If she had bought an hour, I would have made her lick up her mess, but her time was almost over.

“Lolita, you are a miserable excuse for a slave. You have a lot to learn,” I told her, although in fact, she was already quite well into the role. “Pull your skirt down now,” I ordered.

I rose and stood over the woman I had conquered. She lay face up, probably staring at me, panting and sniffling. “I suggest you return for further training, Lolita. You can make an appointment if you want."

“Yes, Major,” she nodded.

I could tell she was hooked. “Good,” I approved. I wiped my boots on her flimsy little skirt, and walked out.

After I left Lolita, I went directly to the disco bar and ordered a double bourbon. I wanted to chug it, but after one swallow, I forced myself to sip the rest. Since Lolita had been my final encounter of the night, I had plenty of time to wind down and ponder.

It was there Beverly found me, staring into the middle distance.

“How'd it go?” she asked, leaning against the bar beside my stool. “Don't go overboard on that. You have to drive."

Her solicitousness was lost on me, but I remembered my manners. “I know. This is it, and I'll take my time.” I sighed. “God, it was glorious. Not what I expected, but glorious. She's magnificent."

“How do you mean?” Beverly probed.

“Well, you know, I never took her for a sub! I always thought she was totally dominant. I mean, at work, you should see her. If you can see her.” I paused for a sip. “She only gets close to people very selectively. You know how much contact I've had with her."

“But she's the principal of a huge school; you're a janitor, and she would normally have nothing to do with you in any event,” Beverly, a teacher herself, reminded me.

“I refer to the way she is with everyone. I mean, she isn't any way with me because she doesn't know I exist,” I said blandly, refusing to be ruffled, now that I'd had my unattainable boss.

“Well, just be careful. This is a tricky situation. You probably shouldn't have done her, technically, once you made her. If she finds out who you are, or if she realizes you know who she is, I don't know what might happen."

“You told me to go ahead,” I reminded Beverly, a little miffed that she had reprimanded me.

“I know. My fault,” Bev agreed. “I can do her next time if you want."

“No, I want her,” I said decisively. “I can control it."

“All right. You let me know if you can't,” Beverly warned me.

I nodded. “Yes, ma'am."

I gnawed some leftover pretzels thoughtfully on the way home.

I had fucked Lynn Jeffries and I was glad.

The following Monday on my way to work, I had to remind myself a dozen times to wipe the grin off my face. I was unique! No one there but me had had the principal. She hadn't been back to the dungeon that weekend, but I wasn't alarmed. Anyone who ventured into D/s for the first time needed time to process the experience.

As I passed through the main office to punch in, I heard a buzz of excitement. Something about Dr. Jeffries-I didn't know what at first, but I hung around looking at the junk I found in my mailbox. It was mostly flyers that had nothing to do with maintenance, stuff I would normally have tossed, but they gave me a chance to stay put and collect information. As usual, I went completely unnoticed by the administrators on the other side of the counter.

“Did you hear what she said?” one asked. “She said she liked my hair!"

“Did you see her face?” cried another. “I think she must finally have a boyfriend."

“No, I think she musta made some money on Wall Street,” the only man present said.

“Or maybe she got another book published,” someone else guessed. “You know how she gets off on royalties."

The supervisor summed it up, “Whatever it is, let's enjoy it while it lasts."

I slipped out, pleased as I could be. Since I was in love with the woman, how could I not be happy for her, too?

At 5:30, I went out to take the flag down. I turned away from the sun and folded it carefully as I had learned in the Army.

She came down the steps toward me and I looked up. “Good evening, Dr. Jeffries,” I said softly and respectfully, just as I always did.

She squinted at me oddly but then she smiled. “Have a good evening, Jane.” And with a slight nod, she got into her car and drove off. That was when it dawned on me that she had finally gone to the trouble to read the nametag on my shirt. She admitted she knew I was a person. And that meant more to me than the fact that we had become lovers over the weekend.

I went home and plunged into my latest science fiction fantasy in which a Terran exobiologist was heroically saving a planet on the verge of extinction. My character was definitely Lynn Jeffries’ alter ego, or perhaps I should say Lynn was my protagonist's heretofore-evil twin. Regardless, our two recent exchanges helped me flesh out and define my character better than ever, and I was able to make more progress than usual. I hoped to start flogging it around to agents in the summer. So far, I had only a couple of short stories and a porn novel published. I was really hoping to reach a broader audience this time. With Lynn's unwitting help, I would.