But I knelt there and took it, much as I disliked it. Like countless women before me, I let the man have his way with me, hoping that he would have mercy of me and let me keep my job.
"Let me tell you how things are going to go," he said, his fingers pushing so hard against my scalp that it hurt. "I'm going to grant you that extended review."
To my indelible shame, I perked up at the words, and started following his movements more actively, sucking at his cock with more girly enthusiasm.
"But a good leader cannot take decisions in a vacuum," he said, caressing my hair, letting me do the work for the first time since the blowjob began. Embarassingly, I noticed I was keeping the same rhythm he'd imposed on me, even with his hands no longer guiding me.
I'd never leave this down, but... a small part of me was starting to like this.
Perhaps the very same, frightened, girly part that couldn't stop thinking about the damn stone.
In that moment, my independence as a woman didn't count. I was just an unwilling cocksleeve. I hated that, I hated that every time my lips descended down his length I felt less of a professional woman and more an office accessory.
But I could also see the arousal to be found in being putty in the hands of a dominating man.
I would never admit this. I'd never even replicate this as a fantasy in the bedroom - it would simply give the patriarchy more ammunition. But since I was down here against my will anyway, I sought refuge in the one part of my brain that didn't experience this as an entirely negative event.
Lost in the haze of my abject debasement, I switched to only half-listen as he talked about leadership qualities, listening to his subordinates, and gaining an accurate picture of my value in the workplace.
His breath was coming a little short now, but I was surprised at his endurance - he gave no sign that he was even remotely close to the edge. How long would I have to stay down here on my knees, before he was done?
But then, all of a sudden, his hand descended back atop my head, once again. With a force that brooked no arguments, he resumed control of my movement. I reacted to his hold with an irritated whimper.
I wiggled and struggled, trying to break free of his grasp, but his wiry strength soon had me submitting. My neck gave in, and he started facefucking me, as my muffled protests subsided into slutty wet sounds.
It wasn't deepthroating. Not yet.
But given the ease with which he was mastering me, could I really doubt he'd take me there, eventually?
His resumption of control had the desired effect, though. All of a sudden I was listening to his words again, as he detailed how my extended review would work.
With my mouth demurely massaging his cock, I listened to his words.
And my eyes widened in horror.
"Heeey, Cindy!" Nick Foster said, loudly chewing gum and flashing his derisory jock smirk at her. "Looking good!"
I rolled my eyes. This guy managed to annoy me on so many levels.
It's genuinely hard to convey how energy-sapping it is to be hit on all the time as a girl, even more so as a lesbian. But Nick managed to rise head and shoulders above most students here, in that he was a bully, and a jerk.
Even his fellow football players didn't particularly like him. He played defense - whether due to a lack of offensive finesse, or his preference for beating up smaller kids, I didn't know and didn't particularly care for.
As far as I was concerned, he had no true friends, and didn't know the meaning of the word. But he did have plenty of cronies, mostly thanks to his rich dad. Taken together, they looked like a stereotype boy club. Prestigious jobs were waiting for them after school. In the meantime, they pretended their success was due to their winner mentality and their grind mindset.
"Of course," he said with a chuckle, "your sister has one up on you..."
A couple of his goons chuckled right alongside with him, as if they'd just heard the best joke of the week. I turned back to face him, my face running red with fury. Even normally this comment would be enough to set me off, but now more than ever.
I was worried about Cathy. This asshole had no right to behave like this.
"Miss Cooper is your teacher," I told him. "You better remember that."
"Oooooh, scary!" Nick said with a laugh. "She's the one who's having trouble remembering that, Cin!"
I groaned in frustration, but the truth was the swine had a point - Cathy was exercising her authority less and less in class. My eyes briefly crossed with Irene's, and the victorious grin she threw my way made my rage boil even hotter. I turned back. Any more and I would explode.
I was used to being seen as - and treated like - a bossy bitch. I made people do the homework for me. I took the credit. People didn't cross me. Indirectly, Cathy's weak showing was damaging my own reputation.
I thought her getting this job would make my life easier, not harder. Sigh.
Eventually, Cathy made her way into class for the second part on their lecture on Chaucer.
Cindy had already pointed to her sister's different clothing choices during their morning trips to school in the car. Big sis was adamant that she just felt comfortable dressing like this. Cindy shrugged. How anyone could feel confident dressing sexily when around Burns was beyond her ability to understand.
The seconds stretched into minutes. Class wasn't starting. Cathy was busy arranging papers on the desk, and mindlessly browsing into her purse. She was taking a suspiciously long time to get started. The class around her began to fidget.
Cindy narrowed her eyes. Something was definitely up with Cathy.
What wasn't she telling her? Was she simply choking under the pressure of the big spotlights? She'd heard stories like that before, but would have never guessed to see her sister go through something like that.
She supposed that was part of the stories too. Sometimes, promising people simply buckled when things got real. She swore that wouldn't happen to her when her turn to shine came up.
"Class, may I have your attention please?" Cathy said at last, in a shaky voice that didn't sound like her at all.
"Aww, you always have our undivided attention, teach," Nick said in a patronising tone that drew cackles of laughter from his posse.
That was it! That had to be Nick's first mistake! Surely Cathy would give him a third detention now! Cindy couldn't wait.
And yet, Cathy didn't.
Cindy studied her sister closely. Her hands were shaking with anger, but she looked down, avoiding a confrontation with Nick. Not even a witty comeback. Why?
"Our director, Mr Burns, has been... evaluating my performance," Cathy said in a half-whisper. "He believes that, in order to get a permanent contract, I should be subject to an extended review."
Cindy sat in shock. Why had Cathy made no mention of this in the car?
"Students' feedback on my teaching abilities will be a critical part of my review," Cathy said, sounding ever more rejected.
"You're going to be giving me a grade, based on my skills and my attitude as you perceive it." Cathy's eyes were starting to swell with tears. "Depending on how well you grade me, I might... get the job or not..."
Cindy sat dumbfounded, staring at her sister, whose face was now tomato-red with embarassment. Cruel laughter echoed across the classroom.
"Ms. Cooper?" Irene Cain asked, raising her hand. "Or should I rather say... Cathy?"
Irene's audacity took my breath away. God, what a fucking bitch! Two weeks ago, I was putting her in her place - now here she was, pulling such a bullshit power move on my own sister!
"Yes, Miss Cain?" Cathy said, and I could see her spit out the words like poison - but she said them nonetheless, to the sadistic hilarity of her own students.
"Well, Cathy, it's not actually you I want to address. Clearly you have no authority to make this decision," Irene said with a smirk, before scanning the class with her clever, green eyes. "Folks, I think Cindy should be stripped of her right to vote on this matter. She's Cathy's baby sis, and she can't possibly be trusted to grade her objectively -"
"You fucking bitch!" I roared, rising to my feet, as the class erupted in laughter around me.
"Please, Miss Cooper," Cathy said. "Sit down. Miss Cain is correct. Director Burns had already specified you would have to recuse yourself from voting."
I was so stunned that I sat down without protest. It didn't escape my notice that Cathy had addressed me as Miss Cooper, even while I was being placed lower than all my fellow classmates in the process.
Was this a fever dream? It was a parody of a real class! Burns was setting things up for the inmates to literally run the asylum!
Once again, I crossed eyes with Irene. In the past, she was always the first one to look away, but in my shame... not this time.
I was dimly aware of Nick standing up, in my peripheral vision.
"Well, toilet break it is," he said nonchalantly. I knew we wouldn't see him for the rest of the lecture. Cathy kept her eyes downcast, refusing to challenge him.
Nick stepped in front of my sister on his way out. He leaned in, lowering his voice - but still talking loud enough that the whole class could hear.
"I'll be keeping a real close eye on you, teach," he said, in an admonishing tone that seemed to make Cathy shrink. "If you want a good grade... you'll have to earn it."
To be continued! Thanks for reading!