Carolyn checked her watch, growing impatient.  Where was that Maria?  She was looking forward to seeing the pictures from last Wednesday’s meeting.  She always enjoyed teaching at the university’s alternative sexuality group’s educational meetings.  It was remarkable enough that a small new england college would be tolerant enough to allow such a group to exist.  After so many years of having to keep her own proclivities a secret, she was bound and determined to help the group thrive.  It didn’t hurt that she lusted after Maria, a graduate student, and one of the group’s board members.

            She smiled thinking of Maria.  Maria was the yin to her yang, a short, somewhat stocky girl, with deep olive skin, and the most puppyish dark eyes.  She had these lovely, ponderously large breasts.  The thought of slapping them, and then savagely pinching her nipples made Carolyn very wet, and even more impatient.

            There was a time when admitting to being a lesbian would have spelled the end of her teaching career.  Carolyn could remember being an undergraduate herself, and lusting silently after another girl in the dorm. She used to imagine herself grabbing this delicate looking femme girl by her too-long-hair, and dragging her to the floor, and then straddling the girl’s face, feeling the brush of the girl’s plump lips across those of her sex.  She shook her head at all the wasted years.

            But that was a long time ago.  She’d long left awkwardness, shyness, or fear of reprisal from an intolerant world long behind her.  There weren’t too many anthropologists who specialized in primitive cultures that could lay claim to having actually lived with one, as she had during her graduate field work. The Zapoteca had been a matriarchy for over two thousand years, and aspects of it were still present in the culture today.  When she’d first arrived in that tiny central Mexican mountain village, her eyes had been opened to a new way of seeing things.  Men stayed home tending the children, and the women of the village made every crucial decision.  The largest and strongest of the women, Gudelia, ran the village fairly, but strictly.  One day Carolyn watched, fascinated, as Gudelia stripped and beat one of the young members of the village council for shirking some chore assigned to her.  She’d realized, then and there, that with confidence and strength came power.  Gudelia had slapped the woman’s legs and arms, and as she lay trembling at her feet, had savagely beat the woman’s breasts.  Afterwards the woman had kissed Gudelia’s feet.  Carolyn simply watched in awe.

            Gudelia taught Carolyn a lot.  She taught her how to command with one’s voice, how to rouse a room full of people into a passionate fervor, and how the same hand could give both the softest caress and the sharpest slap.  In broken English Gudelia had explained to her, “to stretch is to teach”.

Carolyn had been an avid student.  Half a world away, and a half a lifetime later, she had become the teacher. She was adamantly open and unapologetic about her sexuality.  At college after college, she’d gone out of her way to be an outspoken supporter of the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender support groups and had done a world of good at each school. 

When she took the job at Eaglemount College it hadn’t been long before a member of the student group approached her about teaching for them.  This past Wednesday had been about face slapping.  Carolyn smiled as she thought about holding that slim little girl Sarah’s face in one hand, while she forcefully cracked her across the cheek with the other.  The entire room had gasped, and Maria had taken picture after picture.

Just as Carolyn finished zipping up her thigh-high leather boots she heard the doorbell.  Sure enough, it was Maria, nervously shifting from one foot to another, and cradling a manila envelope in her arms.

            As usual, the timid little thing was staring at her feet, when Carolyn opened the door. 

Maria let out a little gasp when she first saw Carolyn’s boots.  Carolyn smiled at the wide-eyed expression on Maria’s face as she looked up.  She laughed inside when Maria’s eyes stopped at her cleavage.  The girl eyed the wide swath of Carolyn’s breasts hungrily.

Carolyn put one hand under her chin, and raised it.  “Maria,” Carolyn chided her, looking her in the eyes, “you’ve kept me waiting.  That’s very poor behavior, my girl.”

She put one hand on Maria’s shoulder, and guided her into the house. 

She sat Maria at her feet, and took the envelope from her.

There was picture after picture of Carolyn standing in front of the room, lecturing, as well as pictures of the demo volunteer, Sarah, and other panel members.  They were all fairly typical, except for one picture which took her breath away.  Maria had managed to snap the exact instant when Carolyn’s palm had slammed into Sarah’s face. 

The girl’s eyes were squeezed shut in anticipation of the pain. But her mouth, her mouth hung wide open, her lips caught forever in mid-tremble, as Carolyn’s heavy hand cracked across her cheek.  The tiniest drop of spittle flew from Sarah’s open lips. 

Carolyn felt her breath catch the tiniest bit.

But what really floored her was seeing herself in the picture.  Her extended arm flexed with muscle.  Her mouth was a firmly set, grim thin line.  But the red of cheeks belied her calm stoicism.  Her eyes glittered with fevered excitement.  She looked cruel, and frightening.

She felt her nipples stiffen under the supple leather of her dress, and the familiar electric snap of her arousal behind them.  It snaked down, behind her stomach, and spread into the folds of her sex, which thickened, growing hot and wet with her arousal.

She thought of Gudelia, lifting the little village girl, and stripping her with one hand, and then beating her.  Her panties clung to her now, slick and wet.

She reached down into Maria’s shirt, snaking her hand under her bra, and pinched one of her thick nipples hard.  She dragged Maria to her feet.

“Do I scare you, Maria?”

Maria swallowed dryly, and nodded.

Carolyn yanked off Maria’s shirt and bra.  Her white hand fairly shone against the golden olive skin of Maria’s heavy breasts.  She slapped them, one, then the other, in a pattern, over and over.  She cupped one hand, palm up, between Maria’s legs.  The thin cotton crotch of her pants was soaked.  Carolyn curled her hand and yanked Maria forward, taking one of her huge nipples into her mouth.  She sucked hard, and bit down ferociously.  She buried her face against Maria’s breast, sucking harder and harder.

Maria shook and shivered with the pleasure-pain.  Her other breast bounced and slammed against the side of Carolyn’s face, and she reveled in it.  She breathed deep through her nose, suckling all the while, savoring the smell of her breasts, the warmth of their skin.

She shoved Maria back onto her knees, and pushed her head towards one boot.  “Use your mouth, Maria.”
            Maria licked delicately at the toe of her boot, her tongue making small swirls against the shiny leather.  She leaned down on her hands and knees, tonguing Carolyn’s ankle, and heel.  Carolyn watched Maria’s breasts spread as she pressed them against the floor.

            She pressed the heel of her other boot against the meaty flesh of Maria’s bottom, and heard her wince in pain.  She began to draw back, but she felt Maria rise up to meet her, and her mumble through a mouthful of leather. “Please, Miss Carolyn, please.  Press down harder.”

            Carolyn whispered, “to stretch is to teach” and pressed down.