from the bedroom into the living room. Valerie Dickinsea was more than startled when she saw the young girl dressed in her black leather leotard, erotically opened on top, and holding a riding crop. She felt her heart beat accelerate. Something strange was going on in these quarters tonight. However, she would have to retain her poise.

As Barbara walked over toward her, the swell of the tall brunette's breasts sent chills through the school teacher's spine. They were young, firm and full, but the occasion was entirely inappropriate for such display. Indeed, the custume of the three girls seemed to reflect that Barbara was the master and the other two her slaves. What Valerie Dickens could not comprehend was her role in the play that seemed to be developping here. In any event, she decided to firmly take things into hand. After all, she was the teacher, which gave her the right to dominate her students. "I would suggest that you girls changed into something more appropriate for a French lesson," she coldly said, without looking at any of them.

"I would suggest that you change into something more confortable," said Barbara, deliberately omitting to address her by name. There was

a firmness in Barbara's voice that told her that this was one group over which she had lost her mastery.

Nevertheless, Miss Dickens made a supreme effort. "Enough of this nonsense. This is not a costume ball, but à tutoring session. I am not asking you, but ordering you to change into proper clothing. It should not take more than five minutes. I will wait."

"Make Miss Dickens more comfortable, girls," Barbara ordered. The other two immediately responded. Each placed a hand under her armpit and lifted her to her feet from the couch. Then, before she nad a chance to struggle, they removed her jacket, unaer which she wore a silk violet blouse, that was almost bursuing with the swell of her oreasts. "What is the matter with you three this evening? Have you gone completely mad. How dare you!"

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