Breast Exam

Breast Exam

Jane Parks

f/F, F/Ff, humil.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law.

Gina Briggs had been dreading this day for weeks. The mid-thirties high school Health teacher was always extremely nervous and embarrassed about talking to her eleventh grade girls on the subject of breast cancer self-examination. In fact, any class subject dealing exclusively with the female body made her nervous and distracted. She was even more embarrassed to have to demonstrate the correct technique for performing the exam on the torso dummy that the Health and Physical Fitness Department at her school provided. The girls in her class always either giggled in embarrassment or made snide comments about the small dimensions of the torso dummy's breasts. They just didn't take the demonstration seriously. What did 17-year-old girls have to fear from breast cancer? Or so they thought. For them, the demonstration was just another opportunity to fluster and humiliate their shy, self-effacing teacher. And Gina's girls never missed such an opportunity if they could help it.

Gina knew deep down that she exuded an aura of helplessness and diffidence to her students. And she also knew why, even though the knowledge embarrassed her right down to the core of her being. In all her life, Gina had shared her deep dark secret with only one other person, her longtime friend Christina. Christina, who incidentally had a daughter in one of Gina's classes this year, was an old, old friend from college days. And what had started out one recent Sunday afternoon as a light conversation between two old and dear friends had somehow turned into a morbid confession by Gina to her soul mate Christina. Sitting in Christina's living room, Gina had confessed in a barely-audible whisper that almost every day, her mind was cruelly invaded by a succession of nearly uncontrollable images of her surrendering herself lewdly to one of her female students.

After Christina's initial shock had worn off, Gina abashedly admitted that often it was everything she could do not to run right up to one of her girl students and to beg to be allowed the privilege of worshipping her body right there in class. Gina shamefacedly confessed to Christina that she masturbated late into almost every night to quell her sick craving. But, each morning, when she awoke, her wanton hunger would return, strong as ever.

When Gina had first confessed her dark fantasy images of submissiveness to her female students, Christina seemed embarrassed herself and more than just a little bit stand-offish to her old friend. But, the next time she invited Gina over for coffee, Christina began wheedling Gina about the extent and strength of her lurid images, telling her that she wanted to comfort and reassure her old friend that all women had such fantasies to a lesser or greater extent, and that it was natural and OK.

At first, Christina's leading and insinuating questions about Gina's submissive fantasies only made the teacher ill at ease and anxious. But, the more Gina was urged to confide in Christina, the freer she felt to talk about her deepest secrets. Gina acknowledged to her old friend that she was obsessively absorbed with wanton fantasies involving her being physically overpowered by one of her students, and then being sexually molested by her, and then being forced to service the girl's intimate places with her mouth. Somehow, through the exercise of great will power, Gina had so far successfully repressed these humiliating compulsions during her working hours at school. But recently, it seemed that they were becoming harder and harder to resist. As Gina told more and more of her sinister secret, Christina offered up a litany of bland encouragements and mock-comforting reassurances. But after a time, Gina began to realize that Christina was really much more interested in squeezing every last morsel of salacious information out of her than she was in offering true comfort. So, Gina just changed the subject from then on whenever Christina began to probe and query. And, after a while, both women avoided the subject altogether.

Gina's sixth period Health class was composed of all junior girls. That was deliberate scheduling on the part of the administration that allowed Gina to discuss such topics that were of special interest to females, such as breast self examination. These were highly embarrassing presentations for Gina because they somehow stimulated her morbid desire to surrender sexually to one of her students. It was much more difficult for Gina to keep her fantasies in check when she had to discuss intimate female topics with her class full of young girls. And besides, the girls always made fun of her presentations, and did everything they could to make Gina blush. Gina thanked her lucky stars that her embarrassing talk on breast self-examination would be the last thing she had to do that school week.

The class was small, only ten girls, and they knew the minute they came through Gina's door what the subject of that day's lesson was to be. For there, resting on the top of Gina's desk, was the torso dummy. The girls all looked at each other, giggled, and whispered back and forth as they took their seats. Wow. Here was another opportunity to disconcert their teacher, to upset her, to embarrass her right into a coma.

Once she had the class settled down, Gina bravely launched into her topic. She held, clutched in her hand, a pamphlet to which she referred from time to time to prevent herself from becoming too flustered.

"Now Girls. As we all know, breast cancer is a very dangerous and virulent form of cancer, and we must be on guard against it constantly. Today, we are going to learn how to examine our breasts for signs of cancer."

Before Gina could say anything else, Trish Wilson, who sat right in front of her desk piped up.

"God, Ms. Briggs. With breasts as small as that dummy has got, we'd all have to be eighth graders to be able to compare."

Trish's crude comment generated a general giggle fit among the rest of the girls. This was partly due to the fact that they though Trish's comment was genuinely funny. But the other part of why the rest of the girls laughed was because they were all a little bit afraid of Trish. They didn't want to antagonize her in any way. Trish was the kind of bratty teenage girl to intimidate and bully the other girls for no reason other than she found it fun to do so. Most of the girls in the room had as little to do with her as possible because she creeped them out so badly. And the one girl who was close to her, a little mouse of a girl by the name of Cindy, was a little too close, if you know what I mean. Gina worried about Cindy's obviously unwholesome relationship with Trish; especially since Cindy was her long-time friend Christina's daughter.

Gina was non-plussed by Trish's brash comment about the size of the torso dummy's breasts, but she pushed doggedly on with her presentation. She knew that it would all be over soon and she could surely stand anything for an hour.

"That's enough, Trish," Gina said with mock sternness. "Now, pay attention girls and we'll move on with the demonstration."

To prove that she had been in no way cowed by her teacher's half-hearted admonition, Trish reached over to where her loyal little posse girl Cindy was sitting and began gliding her hand along the other girl's neck. Though Gina clearly saw what Trish was doing, she forced herself to ignore it and go on with her lecture.

"Now girls. Remember that a self-examination includes a number of different things, such as: looking at your breasts, feeling your breasts, and gently squeezing each of your breasts to check for any discharge."

Trish chose that moment to stick another pin in her teacher. "Ummmmmmm, Ms Briggs. That sounds like it could be kinda fun. All that looking, and feeling, and squeeeeeeeezing, and all."

As she spoke, Trish made direct eye contact with her teacher. The feral smile on her face spoke volumes about the hidden meaning of her words and just whom they were being directed to. For a while now, the evil little vixen that lived inside Trish's brain had been casting about for a way to dominate her demure little Health teacher. You see, Trish had this thing about sexually subjugating older women. If they demonstrated any kind of psychological or emotional weakness and also if they were as good looking as Gina Briggs was, Trish just naturally thought in terms of finding a way to turn them to her own cruel purposes. So far, Trish had claimed more than her share of success in corralling vulnerable adult women into her stable of subby little pony Mommies. She even surprised herself sometimes with the compliant female trophies she had acquired among the mothers of some of her schoolmates. She was pretty certain that some of the girls in her class at least suspected that their mothers had fallen under Trish's cruel spell by the peculiar ways these older women acted around her whenever Trish attended school-sponsored swim meats, track and field events, etc. In truth, it was difficult not to notice how one or another of the mothers would just sort of disappear with Trish for unexplained periods of time. Then, just as mysteriously, she would return, all red-faced, misty-eyed, and disheveled.

Trish was also pretty sure that this was why so few of her classmates wanted to be around her. Nobody ever talked openly about it, but several of Trish's female classmates suspected that something really sick was going on, and that Trish was the one behind it all. Better not to know, Tina's female students said to themselves and to each other in furtive whispers. Just hope and pray that YOUR mother wasn't involved with Trish. That was most certainly the prevailing attitude among Trish's classmates. And, while Trish admittedly was having some very 'interesting' times indeed with the defenseless and oh so docile mothers of some of her schoolmates, she shamelessly speculated that it would be extra special fun to lure one of her own teachers inside the wanton little stable of older women that she kept. And today, Gina seemed to be just about ripe for the picking, especially given what Trish already knew about her.

For her part, Gina tried her best to ignore Trish's baiting words and the double meaning behind them. At the same time, she could feel herself being drawn in by the teen girl's bright, shiny eyes. Gina had certainly heard things from some of the other teachers about Trish's wanton reputation, and it frightened her more than she could stand sometimes. She knew that for the past few weeks she had been slowly but surely losing ground in her battle to resist giving in to her submissive fantasies. What if Trish decided to turn her mesmerizing sights Gina's way? Could she resist such a sinful attraction when other, stronger women had found it impossible? The Health teacher knew deep down in the pit of her soul that she was very lonely, and that her dull, empty life had nothing to it outside of school, and that she was growing less and less able to shrug off Trish's unabashed and wanton advances. It was true that, so far, Trish had never done anything so blatant in her class as to call sufficient attention to it to warrant Gina making a formal complaint to her principal.

But Gina knew that her girl student was dangling tantalizing bait right in front of her, and she also knew that the cruel hook hidden inside the bait had a sharp barb on the end.

Gina didn't at all know way, but she did know that an increasingly overpowering part of her psyche craved all of Trish's attention to her, whether it evidenced itself through criticism of her teaching or not. Gina also knew that she craved much more than merely Trish's attention to her in class. And those feelings were only getting more pronounced.

Gina shook her head to clear it of a flood of salacious thoughts and images that revolved around Trish. She distracted herself by reading from the pamphlet.

"In order to observe your breasts, remove your top, expose both breasts, and stand right before a mirror. Search diligently with your eyes for changes in the size of your breasts, dimpling of the skin, or something unusual such as an inverted nipple."

In a stage whisper Trish said, "Do it, Ms. Briggs. Do it. Let's all see 'em. You know you want us to see 'em."

Cindy heard her and giggled, as did other girls within earshot of Trish. The very thought of their teacher exposing her breasts to them right here in the classroom was both ludicrous and totally gross.

Gina heard Trish also, and she sucked in her breath to keep a little hungry whimper from escaping. There was an impatient insistence in Trish's whispered suggestion that almost made the shy teacher obey her. But she caught herself just in time. "Girls. We don't have a mirror, but you can observe the torso dummy, and look at its breasts as if they were your own. Do any of you see any of the signs of breast cancer that I just listed?" No one said anything.

Gina directed her gaze at Cindy who was slumped back in her chair while Trish ran her probing little finger around the girl's ear. "Cindy," Gina spat the words out as an admonition to the girl to pull herself together and not allow Trish to make such a sordid spectacle of her in front of the other girls. Cindy yawned, slitted her eyes, and drawled, "no, Ms. Briggs, I don't see any signs at all of cancer on the dummy."

The class, which had understood that Gina had called on Cindy not to answer her question but because of what Trish was doing to her, fell to laughing at the dozy girl's confusion. Trish just grinned and continued her erotic play with Cindy's ear.

Gina tried to put a good face on it by pressing on.

"After you look at your breasts for signs of change, you then gently squeeze each breast directly behind the nipple to determine if there is any sort of discharge."

Trish slid back in her seat.

"Ummmmmmmm," she moaned and thrust her ample chest forward as if defiantly offering it to her teacher to fondle. Gina was so flustered by this time that she could hardly speak. But she doggedly plodded on, despite her growing awareness of a sharp tingling sensation deep inside her own body.

"Now girls. The third step in a breast self examination involves feeling your breasts by using a system that covers the entire breast. When you touch your breasts using this systematic approach, make sure you feel them deeply enough through all the breast tissue."

Trish couldn't help but giggle at this. "Yeah, girls, Ms. Briggs is right about that," the teen girl chimed in.

"I want you to be sure to feel your breasts really deep through all that tissue. And that goes double when you're helping other girls feel their breasts, too. Right, Ms. Briggs?"

Trish's lascivious jibe was rewarded with a long series of giggles and catcalls from the other girls. One brave soul, Petra, had enough gall to say back to Trish, "oh, you're soooooo right, Trish, baby."

More giggles as Gina Briggs attempted vainly to restore respectful silence and order in her class. Although she openly ignored Trish's lewd question, its lurid impact upon her was devastating. A sudden image of the girl sitting in front of her brazenly squeezing her teacher's vulnerable, naked breast flooded through Gina's consciousness. And with that image came a raging, burning craving the like of which she had never felt before: a sick craving to turn that flashing erotic image into immediate reality. Gina defiantly shook the image off, swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and pressed on with a dry mouth and a pounding heart.

"Remember girls, you must cover all areas of your chest and underarm to do the examination correctly. Doctors say that the best time to examine your breast is when you are lying down, with the arm which is on the side to be examined tucked up behind your head."

Trish gazed meaningfully into her teacher's eyes. "Ummmmmmmm. I bet that would make the exam feel really good, Ms. Briggs. Don't you?"

Gina fought desperately to retain control.

"The exam isn't supposed to feel good, Trish. It's supposed to help women detect breast cancer."

There was a tone in Gina's voice that was almost pleading with Trish to just leave her alone to finish her demonstration. But Trish decided to sink her claws in a little deeper.

"I know that, Ms. Briggs. But I bet if it felt really goooooooood, then girls would do it more often. Don't you?" Petra started giggling.

"You're right about that, Trish. Why, I bet that I'd do it every night. Especially if I had some help."

More giggles and a hot blush from Gina Briggs.

"Girls. Now stop all that nonsense and pay attention to how you are supposed to feel your breasts for lumps or any kind of unusual swelling or anything out of the ordinary. You have to imagine your breasts as if they were clocks with the nipple at the center. Are you with me so far?"

Trish leaned further forward and whispered "tick, tock, tick, tock," while staring hard at Gina. She held her hand right in front of her so that it was clearly aimed at Gina's own torso.

"Tick, tock, tick, tock."

Again and again. Just a whisper. But Trish knew for certain that Gina heard her.

The Health teacher began to stammer.

"G-girls, you h-hold your three middle f- fingers flat against your breast, but do not use your f-fingertips. Be sure to use the f- flat of your fingers."

Trish looked around at the other girls.

"That's right. Do it just like Ms. Briggs says. 'Cause if you use just the fingertips, all the other girls will be sure to know you're just feeling yourself up."

More giggles.

By now, Gina felt hot, sticky little beads of perspiration collecting on her lower lip. Her clothes felt tight and constricting. She could feel the hot blush of embarrassment moving across her chest. God, let this be over soon. She plucked at her reserves of will power and placed her trembling fingers on the torso dummy to demonstrate the correct examination procedure for the girls.

"Start with the nipple. Then, using small circular motions, press firmly against all of your breast tissue out to 12 o'clock.

Then, return to the nipple and repeat the circular motion out to 1 o'clock. Then, just do the same thing to your breasts for all the other numbers around the clock.

Trish leaned forward so that she was now staring straight at Gina's blouse.

"Give me the digits," she said the words right out loud. An uproar of giggles and outright laughter erupted from the other girls. Even comatose little Cindy got the joke.

Gina leapt back a couple of paces as if she had been jerked on a leash. She was about to cry out in terror just when the end-of-class bell rang.

The Health class erupted into happy, boisterous chatter as the girls scooted their desk chairs back and bolted for the door.

All but Trish and Cindy. They just sat there. Trish openly gazed at Gina as if she were the catch of the day, and Cindy just sat where she was because Trish hadn't told her to do otherwise. Gina stood stark still like a doe outlined by the headlights of an oncoming locomotive.

"Great presentation, Ms. Briggs," Trish said with a lisp of false good cheer.

Gina tried her best to break eye contact, but just couldn't quite do it.

"T-t-thank you, T-Trish," the bedazzled teacher stammered a weak reply.

Trish herself broke eye contact and turned her head to look at her pet, Cindy.

"Wasn't Ms. Briggs demonstration really good, Cindy?"

Cindy nodded her head 'yes' just like she knew she was supposed to.

Trish turned back to Gina.

"You know, Ms. Briggs, I really don't think Cindy got it all. In fact, I don't think Cindy got any of it."

Gina continued to just stand there. Her nether lips burned as if ants were biting her. Her ears rang. Her head ached. She felt as though she was falling down a very deep hole.

Trish slowly stood up from her desk and walked around to where her teacher was standing transfixed.

"Don't you think it's a shame when a student doesn't understand the lesson, Ms. Briggs?"

Gina nodded dumbly. Where was this going? Did she even care any longer?

Trish placed her hand right on her teacher's bare forearm. It was a very light touch, but Gina jumped as if she had been hit with an electric shock. Try as she might, Gina just couldn't bring herself to move away.

"Don't you think we ought to help Cindy get the lesson right, Ms. Briggs?"

Trish began gliding the merest tips of her fingers up and down her teacher's exposed forearm.

"Well, don't you?"

Gina shivered. She could feel the hot mucus fluids sticking to her nether lips. She could sense the burning itch deep inside. She could no longer prevent the lurid, sick images from flashing in her head. Then, some ultimate spark of self-preservation flared up in her lust-fogged brain.

"I don't know, Trish. Perhaps, I could do it again on Monday. Then, perhaps Cindy would understand it all better." Trish slowly shook her head as she continued her sliding, gliding touching.

"I don't think she can wait that long, Ms. Briggs. I don't think I can, either. Don't you always say that the best way to teach is immediate re-enforcement? If we wait till Monday, Cindy will have lost what little she did get out of today's demonstration. Don't you think it would be better to do it as soon as possible? You don't want Chrissie's daughter missing out. Do you, Teach?"

OH God. Gina wanted to run: run as fast and as far as she could.

Right then.

"Whose daughter?" Trish smirked down at her teacher.

"Chrissie's. You know Cindy is Chrissie's daughter. Don't you, Teach?"

Gina began to tremble all over her body. She was suddenly scared stiff.

"Chrissie?"

Trish continued her lurid exploration of her teacher's arm.

"Yes. Chrissie."

Gina felt like she was going to faint.

"You know her as Christina."

Trish glided her exploring finger along the inside of Gina's sleeve.

"You know. She's your old friend from college or something." Gina tried and tried to pull away, but Trish saw the resistance and held her arm tightly and wouldn't let go.

"Chrissie's a cutie pie. Did you know that, Teach?"

Gina continued to struggle. But she was weakening. The images just wouldn't stop invading her brain. Oh God. What images. What sick promises they held.

"She's a real docile little cutie pie."

Now Gina wasn't struggling any more. The images were way too strong.

"She's been my 'friend' for a couple months now."

More images crashed through Gina's consciousness. Images of Trish and 'Chrissie': sick, horrible, hungry images.

"She's just so eager to please me. She's sooooo cute."

Gina began to cry softly, but she didn't move away from Trish's now stroking hand.

"I even made her give me Cindy as a present to play with. Wasn't that just so sweet?"

Hot tears began streaming down Gina's flushed face.

"I bet you didn't know about me and Chrissie. She has told me soooo much about you. That's why she has been asking you all those nasty questions. I told her to."

Gina's body began to be racked with deep, soul splitting sobs.

"In fact, I was listening from inside Cindy's bedroom the last time you were over there. I'm surprised you didn't hear little Cindy. She makes the cutest little noises when I'm playing with her and getting her all wet and slippery for her Mommy. Chrissie so enjoys the taste, now that I made her try it."

Gina could hardly stand up. She closed her eyes as tight as she could. God, please make the images stop!

"I really like watching them play together. It's so cute, especially when Chrissie cries."

Gina sobbed and sobbed until she sobbed herself out. Then she took a deep breath. Maybe she still could get away. Maybe she still could get away. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

"No, Trish. I think we can wait till Monday to demonstrate the examination procedure. Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like to ridicule and humiliate, and degrade me in front of the whole class? Just like you did today?"

Trish giggled.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, Teach. I plan to."

Trish slid her finger along the short sleeve of Gina's blouse up to the shoulder. Then she began playing lewdly with her teacher's blouse collar.

Gina winced.

"God. Please don't do that, Trish. It's not right for you to touch me that way."

Trish moved her fingertips along her teacher's collarbone. She was rewarded with a little whimper and a sharp intake of breath. God, Gina prayed as hard as she could for Trish to just go away. Gina knew that this was so wrong. She just knew she should slap Trish's hand away and storm out of the classroom. But her ravenously hungry body refused to obey those last, fluttering little desperate signals her brain sent out.

"Are you sure you don't want me touching you, Ms. Briggs?" Gina could feel Trish's fingertips lightly stroking her neck.

Ummmmmmm. So hungry. And, despite her longing to preserve herself as something other than Trish's new subby play toy, the intense sexual feelings that the girl brought out in her were purest heaven. Or was it hell? Whatever it was, Gina just couldn't get beyond her craving any longer. Her knees were getting weaker and weaker. Her breathing was coming in short, sharp pants for air. She had broken into a cold sweat. Her heart raced. Her stomach was tied up in knots.

"Are you sure, Teach?"

"Un huh," was all Gina could manage.

Trish let her fingertips wantonly graze along her teacher's bra strap and began sliding under it.

Gina let her head fall forward as if she were asleep. She just had to find enough strength to make this girl stop her evil touching. But her body didn't want Trish to stop. Oh no. Not at all. Not ever.

"Do you really want me to stop, baby," Trish asked quietly as she continued to explore.

"Un huh,"

But by now Gina really didn't mean it. Gina didn't mean anything any more. Gina was just hungry. Gina just wanted to do anything Trish said so long as Trish fed her. And soon.

"Do you really want me to stop feeling you up, Teach?"

Trish's words were harsh and insulting. Gina knew that. But Gina didn't care any more. Gina was very, very hungry now. Gina let out a slow breath.

"Unh, uh."

Trish leaned very close to her somnolent teacher.

"Well I will stop, Teach. I'll stop this very minute unless you agree to give Cindy and me a private demonstration of this breast exam thing."

Gina slitted her eyes.

"I can't do that, Trish," Gina slurred the words as if she were drunk.

"Sure you can, Teach," Trish responded with a lilt of gleeful triumph in her voice.

"You can do it at home. Right in your own living room. Right in front of me and Cindy."

Gina shook her head drowsily.

"I can't take the torso dummy out of the building. They told me to leave it here for someone to take back later."

Gina knew she was making no sense any more, but she was trying so hard to hang onto a shred of her sanity. Trish only laughed at her.

"We don't need that old flat-chested dummy, Teach. No. We'll use the real thing. Get it?"

Trish added stark meaning to her statement by allowing her fingertip to trace the very edge of her teacher's bra inside her blouse.

"Won't we, Teach? Won't we use the real thing?"

Gina began to cry again.

"Well, Teach?"

Gina nodded her head in silent agreement.

Trish wanted more. Trish always wanted more.

"Say it, Teach. Say it nice and loud so Cindy and I can plainly hear you."

Gina shuddered all over her body.

"We'll use the real thing, Trish. We'll go to my house and I'll do the demonstration using the real thing."

Trish rewarded her teacher's assertion with a loving little squeeze of her right breast through her bra. Gina whimpered like she was in heat. Her slit was on fire. She could feel the sticky way her nether lips clung to her panties. She knew that she was soppy wet.

But Trish wanted more. Trish always wanted more.

"Well, Teach. What's the real thing, anyway?"

Gina raised her head slightly.

"My own breasts, Trish. That's the real thing."

Trish smiled and squeezed a little harder this time. "And how will you show them to us, Teach?

Gina looked wistfully as her life went right down the tubes. "I'll take my bra off and show them to you naked."

"That's right, Teach. For a teacher, you learn pretty quickly."

Cindy diffidently tapped Trish on the shoulder. Trish turned and smiled down at her little toy girl.

"What's her name, Trish? You always make the other ones tell you their names before you play with them. What's her name?"

Trish smiled and turned back to her teacher.

"Yeah, Teach. Cindy's right. What is your name?"

Gina thought and thought.

"Ms. Briggs."

Trish snapped Gina's bra strap. The teacher yipped at the surprising sound and the accompanying bite of pain.

"Your FIRST NAME, stupid."

Gina knew that giving Trish and Cindy her first name was yet another rung down the long ladder that she would never be able to climb back up.

"Gina."

Trish smiled.

"See, Cindy. Gina has a pretty first name. I think we'll call you Teeny Gina from now on. Would you like that, Gina girl?" At the sound of her new name, Gina felt her slit give a little spasm of joy.

"Yes, Trish. Teeny Gina sounds nice."

Without batting an eye, Trish squeezed Gina's breast so hard through her bra that the older woman sank to her knees trying to escape the pain.

"No more Trish. Do you understand, cow brain? No more Cindy, either. From now on it's Miss Trish and Miss Cindy. Do you get it?"

Gina could hardly think for the pain, much less speak. But somehow she managed to blurt out a high pitched 'yes.'

Trish left off tormenting Gina's breast.

"Say it, Teeny Gina stupid."

Gina focused her mind to try and clear it enough to obey.

"Miss Trish and Miss Cindy," she finally blurted out.

Trish reached down and patted her teacher's head like she was an obedient little lapdog.

"Good girl."

Trish stroked her teacher's hair and was rewarded with a little hungry whimper. Gina looked up at her new mistress with hope and wonder. And Trish looked at Gina with ravenous and evil intent.

"Now that your new name is all settled, let's all three of us go over to your house and you can demonstrate the nice breast exam for me and Cindy."

Gina looked at Cindy who smiled back at her vacantly. Then she returned her gaze to Trish who smiled mockingly.

"Maybe if you do the demonstration really good on your own breasts, I'll let you do it on Cindy's. Cindy has really nice, soft, yummy breasts. Don't you, Cindy?"

Cindy smiled at Trish as if she were a fairy godmother.

"Yes, Trish. You told me I have nice breasts. So I must have nice breasts."

Gina squirmed in anticipation of being allowed to touch Cindy's yummy young breasts.

"And once Cindy learns how, she can show her Mommy while you and I get better acquainted. Won't that be fun, Teeny Gina?"

Gina nodded. Then another image flashed inside her head.

"Can I play with Chrissie, too, Miss Trish?"

Trish laughed out loud.

"Before we're through, Teeny Gina, I'll introduce you to all my Mommy ponies. Including Cutie Pie Chrissie. Would you like that?

Gina squealed her delight.

"Oh yes, Miss Trish. If that's what you want.'

As Trish led the others out the classroom door, she giggled."

"Well, at least there isn't going to be any breast cancer around here for a long time to come."

Gina giggled like the happy little girl toy she was. Finally one of her lessons had gotten through to her students.

Finally.

This work is copyright (c) 2002 by Jane Parks. You may download and retain a copy for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on the copy. Please do not post this story to any web site without permission from the author. All other rights reserved. No alteration of the contents is permitted.

Jane Parks can be reached at: janeparkshot@Yahoo.com