Cheerilee closed the schoolhouse door behind Spitfire as the two stepped into the dim, empty room.
"So, this is where it all happens, huh?" Spitfire said, placing her hands on her hips. Cheerilee had gotten used to seeing Spitfire in her skinsuit on television, and was surprised to see how normal she looked in her cargo shorts and tank top. Cheerilee looked demure in comparison, wearing a simple floral sundress.
"Yep. While you're up there leading the most elite team of fliers in Equestria, I'm teaching little foals math and history."
Spitfire scoffed. "Pretty important if you ask me. That was your dream in high school, wasn't it?"
Cheerilee smiled. "Absolutely. It's really everything I've always wanted. I just can't believe you're still bothering to catch up now that you're a star."
"What, being a star means I can't hang out with an old pal?" Spitfire said with a shrug. "Unless you're trying to say you don't like seeing me."
"Oh, not at all," Cheerilee said. "I'd have thought you had some kind of party or event to prepare for."
"A girl gets a day off every once in a while." Spitfire said, leaning on a desk. "And what about you? I'd have thought you'd have found some stallion to settle down with."
"I'm not really the stallion type," Cheerilee said simply.
Spitfire's face flushed quickly. "Really? You don't say."
Cheerilee took note of her reaction. "Something the matter?"
"What? No, nothing. Why?" Spitfire shrugged and paced around slowly toward the chalkboard.
"You just seem embarrassed. Like you're hiding something."
"What are you talking about?" Spitfire replied.
Cheerilee grinned. "I guess it was just my imagination. It looked like you were nervous for a moment there. But a straight mare wouldn't have any reason to be nervous."
"Uhh... yeah," Spitfire answered. She felt like she had walked into a trap.
Cheerilee walked pointedly around the room, her heels like firecrackers against the floorboards. "And because you're clearly a straight mare, then you clearly aren't interested in a mare like me. Correct?"
"What are you getting at?" she went on the attack.
Cheerilee just chuckled to herself. "Why hide it, Spitfire? You could have told me you had a crush on me."
"I-" Spitfire started. "I don't- I mean- Ugh!" She sighed. "I didn't know you swung that way. High school was a long time ago, you know?"
"It's alright," Cheerilee said, sitting on the edge of her desk near Spitfire. "I'm mostly teasing. If you had told me back then, I don't know how I would have reacted."
"Well, how are you reacting now?" Spitfire pressed.
Cheerilee turned her head this way and that, not quite done toying with Spitfire. "I suppose I'm... intrigued. Let's say I've changed quite a bit since high school."
"What do you mean?"
The slightest of smiles, wicked and enticing, crossed Cheerilee's face. "Let's say I've really embraced my role as a teacher." To punctuate her point, she opened a drawer on her desk, reached inside, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Spitfire wasn't so quick on the uptake. "Why do you need handcuffs when you're teaching."
"I don't use them when I'm giving lessons to children," Cheerilee resisted giggling. "I use them when I give lessons to naughty mares like you, Spitfire."
The force of Spitfire's realization nearly toppled her over. "Oh. Oh! Holy Celestia- really?" Cheerilee simply nodded. Spitfire put a hand to her head. "Wow. I had no idea. Wow."
"Still have that crush on me?" Cheerilee asked.
Spitfire was still reeling. "I think I'm even more curious now. Just to know how far it goes, you know?"
"Would you be willing to wait here while I slip into uniform?" She asked.
"Uh, sure," Spitfire agreed.
"I'll warn you- I can be a bit rough, so don't be afraid to speak up if it's too much."
"I can handle anything," Spitfire thumped her chest.
Cheerilee grinned wider now. "Excellent." She slipped out back with an armful of dark clothes to change, leaving Spitfire in suspense.
When she returned, she was garbed in what looked like a schoolteacher's attire if Cheerilee was attending a Nightmare Night party. A black blouse was unbuttoned to the bust, revealing a dark red bra. A short red skirt matched, leaving some skin above her knees exposed, her luscious legs covered in dark fishnet stockings, the look completed with black stiletto heels. Every step she took reverberated powerfully through the room. Spitfire's mouth hung open, and Cheerilee now wore a seductive smile, an entirely new gleam in her emerald eyes as she fetched her pointer from the chalkboard. She stroked in her hands suggestively. "Ready for detention, Miss Spitfire?"
Spitfire was speechless. Her brain had been fried by the total metamorphosis Cheerilee had undergone in a few short moments. It was a while before she realized Cheerilee was in character, and that she had a part she was now very eager to play. "Y-Yes ma'am," she stumbled over her words, still stunned by the sight of Cheerilee, but also overcoming the awkward inexperience that came with being new to this way of doing the deed.
Cheerille paced around Spitfire, rapping her palm with the pointer, the smack against her hand echoing the thud of her steps. "Well, you can't very well attend my detention clothed, can you?" Spitfire spluttered a little, failing to give a real response. "Remove your clothes at once!" Cheerilee demanded.
Spitfire gulped. She knew this was a test. Cheerilee was seeing if Spitfire really wanted to go through with this. But after hearing the power in Cheerilee's voice, such authority tempered with a very potent kind of propriety, a part of her was sent straight back to foalhood, and she heard her own schoolteacher's godlike voice. And yet the grown part of her, the passionate, needy mare, was very much in the present. She wanted to obey very much.
Slipping her hands to her stomach, she gripped her tank top and yanked up, letting her bra-covered chest free. She kicked off her shoes and hesitated a little more on her shorts, but summoned her courage as she undid the button. Finally, she stood before her teacher in her white bra and panties.
"All the way," Cheerilee admonished. She lashed out at the desk with the pointer, a deafening crack ringing through the room. Spitfire jumped, but thoughtlessly began to slip her arms through the straps of her bra, and her hands quickly tugged down her panties. Before she knew it, her dainty breasts were exposed, golden nipples hard, and her mare lips were bare before her new mistress. Spitfire could feel the night air oh-so-keenly against the heat pouring from her pussy. She hoped Cheerilee wasn't into teasing. She didn't know how much more she could take this. Cheerilee certainly wasn't the shy, smart mare she had crushed on in high school, but she was now something so much more enticing; awfully confident, irresistibly intelligent, and most importantly, overwhelmingly erotic.
"Very good," Cheerilee complimented warmly, in a low voice. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
"No ma'am," Spitfire replied. Her voice wasn't as confident as she'd hoped, but the shock seemed to have worn off.
But Cheerilee wasn't about to let up. "Let's try a little more, shall we?" she said. Spitfire resisted the urge to gulp as she went toward her desk, opening the draw to retrieve a pair of leather handcuffs. She strode over to spitfire, letting them swing a little, teasing her. "Take your seat, Miss Spitfire," Cheerilee ordered.
"Yes ma'am," Spitfire agreed. She didn't know what Cheerilee had in store, but she was ready to find out, her heart fluttering in her chest. She took a seat in the nearest school desk, trying not to think about which foal sat there, waiting for Cheerilee to act.
"How do you feel?" Cheerilee asked. She was already heading back to her desk.
That she did helped relieve Spitfire's nervous tension. "Fine," she answered.
"That's good. You should be comfortable for your punishment." Cheerilee reached into the desk and retrieved a long pink vibrator, not as large as a stallion, but certainly not small. Her eyes gleamed and her tail swished as she flipped the switch and the buzzing began.
Spitfire gulped as Cheerilee drew near once more. "What am I being punished for?" she wondered aloud.
"For not fessing up sooner," Cheerilee said. "And being a naughty girl, of course."
Cherilee stepped behind her and Spitfire felt her tail drawn aside by a sweep of her hands. She gapsed when she felt the plastic tip press into her folds, spreading them slightly, bearing down on her clitoris. "Ohh," she groaned as Cheerilee circled her nethers with the toy, the buzz seeming to radiate through her entire rump. Cheerilee was teasing her and doing it well, sliding the head up her slot, prodding her entrance, before slipping back down to rub her clit once more.
Spitfire's breath caught in her chest, and a cold rush lanced through her veins. This was actually happening! She was really getting to fuck Cheerilee! The realization only made her more eager, and she flagged her tail, practically begging Cheerilee for more.
"My, your pussy's so warm," Cheerilee remarked. Spitfire wasn't surprised. Her thighs were burning with arousal. "You certainly live up to your name, Spitfire," Cheerilee chuckled. Spitfire was about to respond, but she gasped again when she felt the vibrator slide effortlessly into her cunt, filling her entire abdomen with a steady buzz, her passages throbbing and her clitoris searing.
But Cheerilee seemed content to simply leave the vibrator in place, walking in front of Spitfire as she pondered her next move. "What's the matter?" Spitfire asked. "Aren't you really gonna punish me? Bad girls like me can take a little pounding."
Spitfire's attitude only seemed to please Cheerilee more. "Don't be silly. You're not allowed to cum until I let you, of course." Spitfire's eyes widened. Cheerilee really was in charge, and as the fire in her belly and marehood grew hotter by the minute, Spitfire wondered how long she could stand Cheerilee's punishment. "But it sounds like you're eager for more," Cheerilee said.
"I can take anything you got," Spitfire shot back. Even if her wrists were firmly chained beneath this desk, she couldn't restrain her mouth. Yet her feisty talk was exactly what Cheerilee was looking for.
"Good. Let's get naughty, shall we?" Like the pounding of a gavel, she reached her leg up and set it on Spitfire's desk. Spitfire's eyes started at the fuchsia foot tucked into the shiny black heel, and wandered upward, traveling the length of the supple leg covered by the dark netted stockings. If that wasn't arousing enough, the angle gave her a clear view up Cheerilee's crimson skirt. No panties, her plump lips wetted slightly with her arousal. Spitfire bit her lip against the stimulation of the vibrator.
But Cheerilee was just beginning. She hooked her fingers into the top of the stocking, sliding down slowly, letting Spitfire's eyes retreat back down the path they had wandered, down her thighs and calves. When she hit her ankle, she kicked her heel off and removed the stocking, now placing her bare foot on the surface of the desk.
"Go on," Cheerilee ordered simply. She didn't have to speak loudly to carry a strong authority. Cheerilee hadn't been kidding; this was naughty. But the dirtiness only made it more appealing to the daredevil Spitfire.
Spitfire leaned forward, rather awkwardly with her arms still chained under the desk, and placed her muzzle against Cheerilee's foot. She inhaled, testing to see if she wanted to go further. Cheerilee's scent was light, hints of a musky sweat pouring into Spitfire's nostrils, but the faint aroma enticed Spitfire to continue.
She planted her lips on Cheerilee's foot, kissing lightly, teasingly at first. Cheerilee hummed above, "Mmm, very good, Spitfire." Spitfire continued, kissing more, moving toward the toes. Cheerilee sighed as Spitfire opened her mouth to take her big toe within it, her lips sucking on the digit and her tongue swirling around it, almost tickling Cheerilee, but the warm stroking sensation was stronger. The sigh from above told her that Cheerilee was enjoying the attention. She went further, dragging her tongue across the top, sliding it in between the toes, even tending to the soles, just as Cheerilee demanded.
"My, you are a naughty girl, aren't you Spitfire? But so obedient," Cheerilee said. The praise made Spitfire glow, along with the incessant pleasure in her loins. She continued her worshipful attention, getting more and more into the action, eagerly awaiting Cheerilee's next command. She licked and sucked on every toe, and did the whole thing all over again when Cheerilee planted her other foot on the desk. Spitfire couldn't help but glance up Cheerilee's skirt once more. Her thighs were stained with wetness.
Spitfire tended to that just as thoroughly as she did the first, cleaning every bit of it with her tongue and enveloping it completely with her lips. But when she was finished with that, it appeared as if Spitfire had other plans for her. With a cheeky smile, Cheerilee ducked beneath the desk out of Spitfire's sight.
There was a moment before Spitfire felt Cheerilee's tongue against her own toes. "Ahh," she hissed. She was pinned to the desk and had no way of resisting Cheerilee's teasing attentions. Her lips wrapped around each of her toes in turn, and her tongue swirled around them and in between them, worming its way over the entire surface of her sole.
But Cheerilee's pleasureable teasing was only just beginning. Spitfire groaned again as she felt Cheerilee's freshly-cleaned feet press into her marehood, her big toe spreading her lips apart and rubbing firmly, slowly into her clitoris. The hot sucking sensation on her toes combined with the steady prodding against her most sensitive spot filled her entire lower body with rising warmth. Spitfire may have been on the receiving end of the attention now, but with the slow, relaxed pace Cheerilee was teasing her, she felt no more in control than she was when she had Cheerilee's toes between her lips.
But even if Spitfire was loving the raw power Cheerilee had over her, she wasn't about to give it to her for free. "Is that the best you got?" she challenged her new teacher.
"What did you say?" Cheerilee asked in a low voice. Her "students" never talked back to her like this.
"I asked if this is your worst. You call this punishment? This is softcore magazine stuff at best," Spitfire shot back.
Cheerilee's face twitched a little with irritation. But then the corners of her mouth curled into the faintest hint of a cruel smile. "Well, as long as you're asking for punishment," she said.
"Do your worst," Spitfire invited.
It was all the permission Cheerilee needed. She pushed Spitfire back in her chair with a foot. She undid the cuffs on the pegasus's wrists, but by no means was she letting Spitfire go free. She then grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her underneath the desk. Spitfire was a slim enough mare that she fit between the legs without too much difficulty, and Cheerilee took her by the chin and led her forward so that her head was poking out from underneath the desk. With the four legs around it, Spitfire couldn't hope to make a quick escape from what was to come.
Cheerilee's skirt was velcro, tear-away, and she undid it with a dramatic swipe, holding it out to the side for a moment before dropping the red garment on the floor beside her, letting her moist, full pussy out into the open, dominating Spitfire's field of vision. "A dirty girl like you deserves some really dirty punishment," Cheerilee said.
"You think you're a bad bitch, Miss Cheerilee?" Spitfire said back, grinning in defiance.
"You might want to close that mouth of yours," Cheerilee warned.
Spitfire wasn't sure what she meant, but she didn't have to wonder long. A stream of golden urine began to flow from Cheerilee's snatch, the stream landing directly on Spitfire's muzzle, splashing her face. The musky odor stung Spitfire's nostrils, but being pinned under the desk prevented her retreat. Cheerilee sighed above her as she emptied her bladder on Spitfire's face. The liquid was hot on Spitfire's coat, an acrid warmth bathing her face and upper body as it dripped down.
Spitfire hadn't expected this from Cheerilee. It was far dirtier than she could have ever imagined the sweet schoolteacher doing, yet even as she gasped in shock, the heat, smell, and salty taste that made its way onto her tongue was very real, and almost overpowering. Spitfire felt her cocky attitude quickly leaving her. How could she be defiant when she was getting pissed on? And yet the sharp loss of control left her legs shaking beneath her.
The stream of urine trickled to a stop. "Clean up, Miss Spitfire," Cheerilee ordered. Without hesitation, Spitfire closed her eyes and drew her muzzle upward to Cheerilee's pussy. She planted her lips on Cheerilee's, drawing her tongue all along the slot, tasting the last few droplets of pee mixed with the tang of new feminine wetness. She moaned loud and dove in harder, lapping quickly with her tongue, licking in heavy, broad strokes over Cheerilee's marehood, letting her tongue dive in and probe her entrance, doing anything she could to please her mistress. Her own marehood seemed to tremble with fresh arousal, the vibrator practically obsolete in the face of such a dominant performance by the schoolteacher.
"Mmm, my, we're already behaving better, aren't we? It's a wonder what a little discipline can do for a bad girl," Cheerilee said.
"Yes, Miss Cheerilee," Spitfire answered.
"I think you've earned a little reward," Cheerilee said. She led Spitfire out from under the desk by the wrist, and brought her over to her own teacher's desk at the front of the classroom. She gently pushed her toward the edge. "Lie down," she commanded.
Spitfire did so, resting her back on the bare surface of Cheerilee's desk. The surface was clearly well-used, a little rough, but not splintery, soft from years of sitting and shuffling books and papers. "Ahh," she let out a groan as Cheerilee slipped the vibrator out of her vagina, the buzzing continuing for a moment before she switched it off, leaving Spitfire to wonder what was next. She held still as Cheerilee wandered over to the other side, but only when Cheerilee climbed onto the desk overtop her, crawling over her to straddle Spitfire's head with her magenta thighs, did she realize what was happening.
"Thank you, Miss Cheerilee," Spitfire said as she stared up, Cheerilee's perfect pussy awaiting her above.
"Well?" Cheerilee prompted. Spitfire didn't hesitate, taking Cheerilee's flanks in her hands and bringing her muzzle up once more, shoving her face into Cheerilee's cunt and licking and kissing the folds like a drunken makeout. Cheerilee moaned at her enthusiastic tongue probing her depths and pleasuring her marehood, and after Spitfire was well into it, she ducked her head down between Spitfire's thighs to return the favor.
"Ohhh," Spitfire paused momentarily to moan as Cheerilee's soft lips kissed against her own. Where Spitfire was eager and lusty with her service, Cheerilee was precise and masterful, slowly dragging her lips and tongue over the outer lips of Spitfire's pussy before gently letting the tip of her tongue spread Spitfire open, teasing her clit for a moment before returning to the outside, tracing along her thighs. She teased so well, every few seconds allowing Spitfire to feel a short-lived burst of pleasure before retreating.
The arousal from all the activities before had left Spitfire needy. She assaulted Cheerilee's pussy, eating her out with a fervent, sloppy hunger, every motion an attempt to beg her mistress to give her pleasure that wasn't coming. Even as Cheerilee groaned above her, pleased with Spitfire's exuberant licking, she held Spitfire in suspense, wetting her own muzzle with the pegasus's hot juices, every swipe against her clit seeming to bring a twitch or moan from her.
"Now now," Cheerilee admonished, "you aren't allowed to cum yet, Miss Spitfire."
Spitfire withdrew her muzzle from Cheerilee's snatch to utter one moaning, "Please," before returning her lips to her mistress's pussy, pleasuring her with everything she had.
"Ooh," Cheerilee responded, sitting up and grinding her rump against Spitfire's face, dragging her pussy across Spitfire's muzzle. She savored the hot tongue on her clit and the eager fingers digging into her hips before she finally rose, strands of her sticky juices connecting her marehood to Spitfire's muzzle. She turned around on the desktop to face Spitfire. "Please, what?"
"Please, Ma'am," Spitfire begged in a low voice.
Cheerilee chuckled to herself. "Very well." She lowered herself to her bottom opposite of Spitfire, working her legs in between the pegasus's, and pressed her moist snatch against the pulsing warmth of Spitfire's wet marehood. The two gasped a little their fluids were pressed between them, an aura of impressive heat pouring from their crotches. "Let's see if you can satisfy me," Cheerilee challenged her.
She bucked hard into Spitfire, grinding her lips into the other's, their clits pressing hard into one another as rivulets of wetness were squeezed from each of them, dripping down onto the surface of the desk. They groaned, but Spitfire only thrust back, rubbing her own clit against Cheerilee's, sending electricity and fiery warmth through each of them as their marehoods burned for pleasure.
Every nerve in Spitfire's body was screaming for orgasm, but she knew she couldn't without satisfying her mistress first. She bit her lip and rocked her hips as best as she could, trying to stave off climax. The pressure between their marehood was incredible, each moment bringing more heat and intensity to their thrusts. Sweat poured down their necks and temples as they mashed their pussies together, their crotches soaked in each other's sticky, hot juices. They ground and slid around one another, their clits dancing with each other, every rub and sensation earning a moan from them, and the room was filled with their husky, pleasured voices and the smell of their sex.
Yet their energy only grew. Spitfire needed something heavier, more intense, rougher, and she knew that Cheerilee did too. She withdrew her hips from Cheerilee, thick strands of gooey mare juices forming between their soaked lips until there was a good few inches of space between them. Then, Spitfire rammed her pussy into Cheerilee's. A lance of fire and pleasure raced through their bodies, the impact alone shaking them to their core.
"Ooh, yeah," the two cried out. On the next thrust, Cheerilee drew back with her, their marehoods connected by a wave of fresh juice, and when they thrust into each other again, the force caused pleasure to ripple through their bodies as they tossed their heads back, pleasure and lust overtaking them.
Their sex became wild and messy. They bucked and humped each other hard and fast, droplets of wetness flying as they smashed their pussies together, grinding their lips together every few moments, circling their clits around one another before they returned to mashing their cunts against each other.
The two propped themselves up on their hands as the speed increased. They grunted and moaned loud as they hit a sweet spot, the slapping of their wet snatches cutting over their voices. Each thrust mashed their clits together, directly on top of one another, and their mouths hung open in heavy pleasure, their eyes rolling upward, yet their hips bucked erratically against each other as the burning pleasure of orgasm rose quickly between the two.
Spitfire and Cheerilee fucked like animals, panting heavily, their muscles taut and aching, their pussies mashing together, their thighs, crotches, and the table beneath soaked in their heavy juices, their clitorises and entrances slamming against one another as hard and fast as they could manage.
When their climax approached, they ground against each other one last time. Their lips quivered and their hips shuddered as they slid and rubbed against one another, their hips bucking involuntarily, their bodies filled with an unbearable tension, poised to unwind at any moment.
"Ahh!" they screamed together. Pleasure raced through their veins as their hips jerked forward, their climaxes unleashed as their fluids were. Jets and spurts of femcum squirted forcefully from them, spraying wildly as they pressed their pussies together, the fluid coating each other, droplets soaking the other's breasts, neck, belly, and face. Their cries of pleasure echoed through the schoolhouse, their marehoods continuing to gush fluid for several moments until the two were completely soaked and spent.
Their arms and legs gave out as they collapsed onto the desk. For several long moments, the only sound was each other's heavy breathing. But they didn't have to look at each other to know they were both grinning wide.
"So..." Cheerilee panted. "Is that... what you expected? Is that alright?"
"Cheer," Spitfire responded tiredly. "That was better than anything I could have imagined."
"Really?" Cheerilee seemed surprised.
"Yeah. Who knew you were so fucking hot?"
Cheerilee blushed. "Wow. That means a lot coming from you. I mean, you are a model mare, an icon really."
Spitfire raised her head to look at the teacher. "Are you embarrassed?"
Cheerilee turned her head away slightly. "More like flattered."
"Ha," Spitfire chuckled. "After all that, you get bashful?"
"I couldn't ever be that way all the time," Cheerilee answered.
"I guess some things never change," Spitfire said.
"I wouldn't mind if they did, though," Cheerilee said. "You'll be in town a while longer?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday. No classes."
Spitfire just gave her a devilish grin. "Oh, I think you should schedule a private lesson for tomorrow."
Cheerilee grinned back. "Well, perhaps I could make time for those naughty students that need extra help."
