Against your better judgement, you decide to oblige her. You're not happy with how you've been tossed around so far, but it's probably not a good idea to get on her bad side either. Especially when she can make someone as imposing as Becky back off with just a threat.
The "album" Candace mentioned sparked your curiosity though...
You enter into Candace's dressing room which turns out to not be what you expected. Schoolteacher was her gimmick, sure, but you didn't think she'd have it resemble an actual classroom. It was an expansive space, with a vanity table, closet and shower room on the right side. The left was more of a lounge, complete with a small kitchen area and two sofas. The middle of the room took up a little more space and had a class setup; several desks assembled in neat rows and a chalkboard hanging on the backwall. Scattered along the walls were posters of Candace, clearly parodies of more motivational material seen in schools as these involved her staring down at the viewer with quotes demanding submission.
Needless to say, you were impressed with how much space this lady had. You were eager to know her reputation.
"I'm sorry," Candace spoke up, breaking your moment of awe. "But I do remember giving you a clear instruction."
"Oh, r-right. My bad." You approach a backrow desk with the intent to take your seat when you feel a sharp pain sting you right on your ass. You jump and whirl around as Candace is holding a metal pointer and starts tapping it in her hand. "Front. Row."
You could feel your face flush red from her whipping you, but try laughing it off to make some friendlier air between you. "Come on, shouldn't we introduce ourselves already? You can drop the gimmick, you know." She leans forward to you making her cleavage spill out of her jacket a bit, now clearly annoyed with your stalling. "I did drop it. Now," she gestures her metal pointer over to the front row. "are you going to make me repeat myself?"
At this point, you give up. It seems there's no way to please this lady in your current position when you're speaking your mind. With a sigh, you do as your told and sit up front, adjusting a bit to help the sting. Candace walks up to the chalkboard and, predictably, starts writing her name on it. She does so very slowly however, which isn't helping your attempts to be polite. Her ass was massive and jiggled to the very slightest movement of her writing. You wondered how the hell that pencil skirt could contain it as it was clearly fighting the fabric at every second. The outline of her panties were clearly defined as well, as if there was much of them to see as they were mostly buried deep between her cheeks.
You hear a hard clack from the chalkboard as Candace turns around, breaking your hypnosis. You blink from her bringing her attention back to you as you straighten up to try hiding the fact you weren't just waiting patiently. She simply taps her metal pointer on to the board which now read "Mrs. Bell". There was an awkward pause until you spoke up.
"Your ring name?"
"No," she answered as she slipped the pointer between her tits. "What you'll refer to me after our entrances."
"Sooo, not Candace?"
She makes her way to the front of your desk and places her hands on it to lean in. You're convinced she was doing this on purpose because there was no way she wouldn't be aware of her practically presenting her ample cleavage to your feasting eyes. "Correct. Your debut will involve getting acquainted with me. So, what's your style?"
You were surprised by the sudden personal question. She's finally up for getting to know about you. "Well I always thought about going for the usual good-guy face, but I'm not sure. I can be that, or get a bit cocky if you wa-"
Candace cuts you off by pulling out her dreaded pointer and tapping it in her hand once again. You quickly catch your answer-
"I mean, cocky! My style is cocky." She once again stuffs her pointer back between her breasts. "Cocky it is. Was that so hard?"
You gulp at her choice of words as you realize this woman has been getting a rise out of you. You shift uncomfortably as you try to manage the tent being pitched in your pants. Without waiting for an answer, Mrs. Bell turns to the side and sits on your desk. She was now towering even more above you as you struggle to maintain eye contact with her. She must've caught you by now, but her expression doesn't reflect it.
"Open your desk drawer," she instructs. You do so and pull out what looks like a school yearbook. You look up to her as she nods for you to open it.
You let out a slight gasp as you're taken aback by what's essentially pages covered in very questionable photo collages. In them were women getting dominated by a (now known) schoolteacher in various ways. Most were simply closeups of their face at the moment of their misfortune. One woman with what looked like cat ears had her face stuffed between Candace's huge tits. Another had a pink-haired shortstack getting the top of her head sat on while she wore an expression of anger and humiliation. There was even one with what appears to be twins getting headlocked in either of her arms with their heads pressed up into her bosom (and you could swear one of them looks like she's having fun). It was the final photo however that both amused and aroused you the most; Becky Peters, with a look of pure rage and embarrassment on her beet-red face, was getting her nose pushed deep into the crack of Candace's massive bare creamy ass.
"She more than deserved it that day," Mrs. Bell chimed in as she smiled for the first time. "Trust me"
"Who...wha-?" you start.
"Essentially, I give all new performers a test. Depending on their cooperation, or lack thereof, they'll be rewarded accordingly. As you can see, some are still not willing to make up for their failures. Any other questions?"
You have a lot to ask, but you hesitate. You look at Candace again and notice something odd, as if she was a few inches taller than before. No, she couldn't be unless...oh god. Was Touko's stunt real afterall?
"Maybe about your...gimmick?" she says coyly. You could feel yourself sink into your chair. She so knew about this.
"Because we'll definitely need to go over it in detail. But first-"
The "album" Candace mentioned sparked your curiosity though...
You enter into Candace's dressing room which turns out to not be what you expected. Schoolteacher was her gimmick, sure, but you didn't think she'd have it resemble an actual classroom. It was an expansive space, with a vanity table, closet and shower room on the right side. The left was more of a lounge, complete with a small kitchen area and two sofas. The middle of the room took up a little more space and had a class setup; several desks assembled in neat rows and a chalkboard hanging on the backwall. Scattered along the walls were posters of Candace, clearly parodies of more motivational material seen in schools as these involved her staring down at the viewer with quotes demanding submission.
Needless to say, you were impressed with how much space this lady had. You were eager to know her reputation.
"I'm sorry," Candace spoke up, breaking your moment of awe. "But I do remember giving you a clear instruction."
"Oh, r-right. My bad." You approach a backrow desk with the intent to take your seat when you feel a sharp pain sting you right on your ass. You jump and whirl around as Candace is holding a metal pointer and starts tapping it in her hand. "Front. Row."
You could feel your face flush red from her whipping you, but try laughing it off to make some friendlier air between you. "Come on, shouldn't we introduce ourselves already? You can drop the gimmick, you know." She leans forward to you making her cleavage spill out of her jacket a bit, now clearly annoyed with your stalling. "I did drop it. Now," she gestures her metal pointer over to the front row. "are you going to make me repeat myself?"
At this point, you give up. It seems there's no way to please this lady in your current position when you're speaking your mind. With a sigh, you do as your told and sit up front, adjusting a bit to help the sting. Candace walks up to the chalkboard and, predictably, starts writing her name on it. She does so very slowly however, which isn't helping your attempts to be polite. Her ass was massive and jiggled to the very slightest movement of her writing. You wondered how the hell that pencil skirt could contain it as it was clearly fighting the fabric at every second. The outline of her panties were clearly defined as well, as if there was much of them to see as they were mostly buried deep between her cheeks.
You hear a hard clack from the chalkboard as Candace turns around, breaking your hypnosis. You blink from her bringing her attention back to you as you straighten up to try hiding the fact you weren't just waiting patiently. She simply taps her metal pointer on to the board which now read "Mrs. Bell". There was an awkward pause until you spoke up.
"Your ring name?"
"No," she answered as she slipped the pointer between her tits. "What you'll refer to me after our entrances."
"Sooo, not Candace?"
She makes her way to the front of your desk and places her hands on it to lean in. You're convinced she was doing this on purpose because there was no way she wouldn't be aware of her practically presenting her ample cleavage to your feasting eyes. "Correct. Your debut will involve getting acquainted with me. So, what's your style?"
You were surprised by the sudden personal question. She's finally up for getting to know about you. "Well I always thought about going for the usual good-guy face, but I'm not sure. I can be that, or get a bit cocky if you wa-"
Candace cuts you off by pulling out her dreaded pointer and tapping it in her hand once again. You quickly catch your answer-
"I mean, cocky! My style is cocky." She once again stuffs her pointer back between her breasts. "Cocky it is. Was that so hard?"
You gulp at her choice of words as you realize this woman has been getting a rise out of you. You shift uncomfortably as you try to manage the tent being pitched in your pants. Without waiting for an answer, Mrs. Bell turns to the side and sits on your desk. She was now towering even more above you as you struggle to maintain eye contact with her. She must've caught you by now, but her expression doesn't reflect it.
"Open your desk drawer," she instructs. You do so and pull out what looks like a school yearbook. You look up to her as she nods for you to open it.
You let out a slight gasp as you're taken aback by what's essentially pages covered in very questionable photo collages. In them were women getting dominated by a (now known) schoolteacher in various ways. Most were simply closeups of their face at the moment of their misfortune. One woman with what looked like cat ears had her face stuffed between Candace's huge tits. Another had a pink-haired shortstack getting the top of her head sat on while she wore an expression of anger and humiliation. There was even one with what appears to be twins getting headlocked in either of her arms with their heads pressed up into her bosom (and you could swear one of them looks like she's having fun). It was the final photo however that both amused and aroused you the most; Becky Peters, with a look of pure rage and embarrassment on her beet-red face, was getting her nose pushed deep into the crack of Candace's massive bare creamy ass.
"She more than deserved it that day," Mrs. Bell chimed in as she smiled for the first time. "Trust me"
"Who...wha-?" you start.
"Essentially, I give all new performers a test. Depending on their cooperation, or lack thereof, they'll be rewarded accordingly. As you can see, some are still not willing to make up for their failures. Any other questions?"
You have a lot to ask, but you hesitate. You look at Candace again and notice something odd, as if she was a few inches taller than before. No, she couldn't be unless...oh god. Was Touko's stunt real afterall?
"Maybe about your...gimmick?" she says coyly. You could feel yourself sink into your chair. She so knew about this.
"Because we'll definitely need to go over it in detail. But first-"
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May 31, 2023
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