Mr. Vyse steepled his hands again and leveled that piercing blue gaze at me. "Repeat what you said to me this afternoon."

I glanced at Miss Reilly -- her posture was stiff, alert, and her normally smiling face was carefully devoid of expression. I shifted my gaze to the wall of books at the back of the room, and plunged in.

"I saw Miss Reilly..." My voice was weak and quavering, and I had to stop and swallow down the big lump forming in the bottom of my throat. "...with Rebecca Bellingham in the room behind the gym where they store the tumbling mats. She hit and yelled at Rebecca, and then she - she made her take off her clothes, and - and she spanked her. On her, um - naked, um - behind."

I shot a quick, nervous glance at Miss Reilly. Her face was still impassive, but the knuckles of her clasped hands looked a little white.

"What else did you see?" Mr. Vyse prompted.

"She, um - Miss Reilly -- put her fingers inside Rebecca, and -"

"Inside her vagina?"

"Um." My whole body felt so flushed and hot it was like I was about to spontaneously combust. And part of me wished I would - anything would be better than saying these words in front of the Dean and a woman I'd seen naked. But they're only words, I told myself. "Yes, her vagina," I said, a little more loudly and forcefully than I'd meant to. "And she used her fingers to - she moved them. You know..."

My. Vyse rubbed his eyes and sighed impatiently. "You're making grave allegations, Miss Novak. This is not the time to be coy."

"She seemed to - I couldn't exactly see from where I was - "

"And where was that," Miss Reilly interrupted, before turning and giving a quick, deferential nod of the head to Mr. Vyse. "If I may ask, Dean."

"She claims to have been spying on you through the window," Mr. Vyse snapped. "But we'll get to all that."

The word "spying," jabbed me like a punch in the stomach, but I couldn't really deny it. And I suppose it was better than "peeping."

"So you saw Miss Reilly put her fingers inside Miss Bellingham's vagina and - what?"

"She - she masturbated her," I whispered.

"And Miss Bellingham was naked?"

"Yes sir."

"Go on."

"Um, well - Miss Reilly made Rebecca undress her, and - and perform..." I was digging my fingernails so deeply into the palms of my hands I was sure I was about to draw blood. I inhaled, and blurted it all out in one deep breath: "She made Rebecca perform oral sex on her."

I looked down at my shoes, hoping this was over now, and I could slink back to the dorm and shower away the sweat and shame. And as that thought flickered through my mind, I was suddenly assaulted by vivid memories of standing under the hot, pounding spray and rubbing my pussy until I came so hard I peed all over my hand. The images forced themselves into my consciousness the way Miss Reilly had forced her fingers into Rebecca's gushing little lesbian twat - I didn't want them, but they felt so exciting. My belly was getting itchy and warm again, and as I nervously shifted my feet, I could sense the humid dampness forming in my crotch.

The room suddenly seemed very close - I could smell Mr. Vyse's masculine aftershave, and faint hints of Miss Reilly's flowery, but subtle perfume. Their scents and the warmth of the room filled my head and made me feel dizzy almost. Not like I was sick, but like I was on a carnival ride and everything was turned upside down. I needed to get these thoughts of sex and soft, naked bodies out of my head. I needed to get back outside, to get some fresh air and to walk away this nervous energy that was eating me up. But most of all I needed to be somewhere dark and private where I could touch myself.

"And then what happened, Miss Novak."

I shook my head. "I don't know, sir," I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I left."

"I see. You were naturally alarmed by what you saw?"

I gave a short, jerky nod, my eyes fixed on the floor.

"You were aroused?"

His words slammed into me so hard it seemed to knock the breath out of me. I glanced up, sure I must have misheard him. "I - what?"

"Were you aroused by the sight of your friend being forced to strip? It's a simple question, and one that goes to credibility. Were you sexually aroused by the sight of Miss Reilly spanking Miss Bellingham on her naked arse?"

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. The lump in my throat had grown till it felt like a huge hand choking the life out of me.

"No? You expect me to believe you weren't excited when Miss Bellingham got down on her knees and worshipped Miss Reilly's cunt?"

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, as though the floor had suddenly opened up at my feet and I'd plunged down into a dark, endless hole. "S - sir?" I croaked.

"It's a question of your credibility, Miss Novak. You claim Miss Reilly sexually assaulted a student. You insist it was non-consensual. And you further claim you were not aroused watching two attractive young women having sex, which is difficult for me to believe, since you've obviously become aroused simply talking about it." Mr. Vyse smirked behind his steepled fingers. "Or did you think I couldn't smell that wet pussy of yours from here?"

I gaped at Mr. Vyse, the image of his stern, mocking features blurring suddenly as my eyes flooded with tears. Maybe this was some kind of psychological warfare. Maybe he was trying to confuse and terrify me into recanting. Or maybe he really could smell the dripping desire between my legs, and I'd walked into the same trap Rebecca had.

"Please sir," I whimpered. "I want to go."

"Do you deny being a horny little slut?"

My mouth moved, trying to form words, but all that came out was a gasp.

"Speak up, Miss Novak!"

His abrupt shout startled me like a slap across the face. "I'm not a slut!" I squeaked.

"We'll see. Lift your skirt."

I couldn't move. It's like I'd seen a gorgon and turned to stone. All I could do was stand there and tremble.

Mr. Vyse sighed. "Miss Reilly?"

The curvaceous student teacher rose, a hungry look sparkling in her eyes. She stood behind me, her big, firm tits pressing against my back, as her hands slid slowly around me, over my belly, and down across the front of my skirt. I gasped at a faint, fleeting pressure as her fingers slipped across my mons, and every nerve in my body seemed to ignite.

Miss Reilly took hold of the hem and slowly lifted my skirt like it was a curtain in a theater. Mr. Vyse made a tut-tutting sound as he gazed below my waist, and my heart began hammering against my chest like it was trying to escape.

"There's a rather obvious, and apparently spreading, wet spot on your panties, Miss Novak. The telltale sign of a young slut."

I knew it was true, but I couldn't stop myself from looking down and glimpsing the dark, fan-shaped stain spreading from my crotch. Instinctively, I squeezed my thighs together, hoping to staunch the flow, but only succeeded in giving myself a brief and startling kiss of pleasure from my swollen clit. I closed my eyes and nearly collapsed against Miss Reilly.

Daddy was right, echoed through my head, borne on a wild rush of fury and resentment toward my own treacherous body. My pussy wants to turn me into a slut! It's trying to get me in trouble, just like Rebecca!

I broke away from Miss Reilly and stumbled toward the door. Neither of them moved to stop me, and I didn't pause to think what would happen next, where I would run, who I could go to. I just had to get out of that room, and away from them before something horrible and irreversible happened, something that would change me forever.

I pulled desperately at the door, my sweaty hands slipping on the immobile brass knob, and I realized it was locked. Of course it was locked. How could I have not seen this coming? I was supposed to be one of the smartest girls in school - one of the smartest in the state - and yet everything I'd done since watching Miss Reilly fuck and dominate Rebecca had been stupid, stupid, stupid! And I could hear Daddy's reaction again - muttered in a voice that was hurt, furious, and disgusted -- to Ashleigh's confession that she had gotten herself knocked up. "I thought you were a smart girl, like your sister. But you're just a dumb slut who thinks with her pussy."

A smart girl, like your sister... I stopped tugging uselessly at the door like an idiot, and slowly turned around. Mr. Vyse hadn't moved. He still sat comfortably in his club chair, elbows propped on the armrests, fingertips lightly touching, watching me with a cool, professional look, as though I were still standing in his office.

Miss Reilly was smiling at me. Not the bright, dimpled, contagious smile she gave us girls as we completed a tricky drill for the Scholastic Decathlon. Now her face had the same merciless, mocking smirk it had worn when she forced Rebecca to call her Mistress and repeat, "I'm your bitch."

"Now that we understand one another..." Mr. Vyse pointed to a spot on the carpet in front of him, and my brain, still lagging behind events, was mildly surprised to find my feet carry me there. I stood before him, chills running up my spine even as perspiration trickled down my forehead and back.

The Dean looked me slowly and thoroughly up and down, and made that tut-tutting sound again. "For an intelligent girl, you're remarkably naïve, Miss Novak. Have you really walked around in that slut's body for nineteen years and not realized where it was destined to take you?"

I shook my head, not really knowing what he meant, and not wanting to know.

"Take off your clothes."