More than a few grunts and groans sounded from the boys behind her, and Vanessa only smiled as she continued to strut forward briskly on her high heels. The halls were empty, all of the staff having left for the day, and the entire parade was out of place in an academic setting: the gorgeous bare-chested headmistress in lingerie leading three students by their balls.<br/><br/>She felt a soft, damp poke between her buttocks, then again against her cheeks, accompanied by David’s labored breathing. The boy was trying to keep as much slack in the leash as possible, and occasionally stepped to close. She didn’t mind it much, as long as he didn’t trip on her, or tried to ram himself into her ass. There would be plenty of time for that later. The twine still coiled around her hand, she tugged, drawing it tight and him closer, letting him decide if he should risk the continual contact with her, or the pain from keeping back.<br/><br/>They eventually arrived at the gym, and next to it past a locked door was her lair. It was a smaller room, about two or three times the size of her office, though it was unfurnished, and little more than a concrete dungeon. What little trimmings there were hung from the wall; straps, whips, canes, floggers, dildos, and gags on racks on the far side of the room, a large pile of rope in the corner. On one end sat a wooden structure, a wooden horse, as well as several simple chairs and stools.<br/><br/>Once all three of them were in her little dungeon, she locked the door behind them, ensuring the last bit of privacy for the evening, and the leash was removed. “All three of you, on your knees,” she ordered in the same brisk tone she used when teaching. From a small cupboard she procured a camera, then took a few pictures of the hapless students. “This is to ensure that once we are finished tonight, you will not reveal your special training to your parents and friends. We wouldn’t want these pictures to slip out to the public, now would we?”