THE LAST CLASS
"Class dismissed," Abby Proctor said. "Sean, please stay for a moment. I
want to talk to you."
He stayed where he was, slouched in his seat, as the classroom rapidly
emptied. When the last student had left, she closed the door, and then locked
it. He didn't move.
She turned to look at him. Their eyes met for a long moment.
"You know, don't you?" she said finally.
He only smiled slightly.
"Listen," she said. "I'm your teacher. You are seventeen. I am
twenty-eight. If anything happened I could get into a lot of trouble. I could
lose my job. I could be arrested."
Sean said nothing. He just looked at her.
She closed her eyes, then opened them again. "What do you want me to
do?" she said.
"Get naked," he said.
A small whimper came from her mouth. "All right," she said.
She stripped down to the skin. She was shaking slightly, but she didn't
hesitate, and she didn't rush. She took everything off. Everything, including
her wristwatch and her bracelet and the rings on her fingers. She knew he didn't
care about that, he only wanted to see her naked body, her unrestrained breasts
and her thighs and her brown-haired crotch. But something made her strip herself
utterly, divest herself of everything that belonged to her, since her body for
now was to belong to him. Her body and her will. And her soul, if he wanted it.
But he didn't.
"What now?" she said.
His smile was no wider than before, though his eyes were slithering over
her like snakes. "Now crawl, Miss Proctor," he said. "Crawl to me, Miss
Proctor."
Oh, he knew. He was seventeen and she was twenty-eight, and this was
crazy, she didn't have to do this, she could stop it right here. No she
couldn't. It was too late, he had seen her naked, the damage was done, he would
never keep this to himself. Even if he did, even if it was not too late, she
couldn't. Stop. She couldn't. She knew. He knew.
She lowered herself to her knees, then got on all fours. He was in the
last row, all the way in the back of the room. She began to crawl. On hands and
knees, slowly. To the aisle, up the aisle, slowly, crawling. Naked. Her breasts
swaying. Her ass flexing. The floor was dirty. He watched. She crawled all the
way to the back of the room and stopped on hands and knees in front of him.
"Christ, what a bitch," he said.
"Yes," she said. Panting.
"You suck cock, teacher?" he said.
She raised her head, looking up at him. His half-smile was the same, but
his eyes were different. Again she whimpered. "If that's what you want," she
said.
"You're a sick bitch," he said. "Aren't you, teacher?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm a sick bitch. Yes."
"You ought to be punished," he said.
She closed her eyes. She knew she was breathing harder. She felt his
eyes on her.
"You want to be punished," he said.
She couldn't speak.
She heard a sound and opened her eyes. He was opening the zipper of his
pants. In a moment his cock was out. Hard, and large. A small sound came from
her.
"That's for you, Miss Proctor," he said. "You want it, don't you,
bitch?"
She swallowed. "Yes," she said.
Now he was unbuckling his belt. Then pulling it out of his pants. He
took it off, coiled it, holding it in his hands. "You want this too," he said.
"Don't you, Miss Proctor?"
She closed her eyes again. "I--I'm--"
"Look at me, teacher," he said.
She opened her eyes.
"Don't you?" he said.
"Yes," she said.
"Tell me."
"Damn you," she said. "Damn you, damn you. Yes, You know. You know it
all. Yes, I want it. I want your cock, I want your belt. Yes, I'm a sick bitch,
yes, I'm twisted and sick, and I can't help it, I'm putting my whole life at
risk for this, and I don't know why, you're a stupid callow teen-aged boy and
I'm a professional educator and I want it, yes, all right, yes, what do you want
me to say?"
"Nothing, teacher. Not now. I want you to suck my dick, and if you do it
good I'll give you the rest of what you want, okay? Do it."
She gave a small moan, and then her mouth was on his cock and around it
and it was filling her mouth and she was sucking it, sucking it slowly, doing it
for him, using her tongue, taking him deep, sucking him, and then he was
uncoiling the belt and raising it, and she made a muffled sound of fear and need
and anticipation around his cock, and then the belt came down on her body with a
cracking noise, and she screamed around his cock, and went on sucking it, and
she didn't stop sucking it as he brought the belt down again. And again. And
again...
#
"This was one time only," she said. "The only time. It stops now."
"Bullshit," Sean said.
"Yes," she said. "I suppose it's bullshit. But I'm going to try."
"What if I tell?" Sean said.
"You won't tell, Sean. Because if you do, you know it will stop. If you
don't, you'll always think it could happen again."
"But you're not gonna let it, right?" Sean said.
"I'm going to try not to."
He put his hand on her breast and pinched her nipple. "But you won't
succeed."
She closed her eyes. "No," she said softly. "Probably not."
"Because you're a sick bitch."
"Yes," she said. "I think we've established that fact."
He squeezed her nipple hard, and she cried out with pain. "Don't get
hoity-toity on me, Miss Proctor," he said.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry."
"Next time I want to fuck your ass," he said.
"If there is a next time."
He squeezed her nipple again. "You know what else we could do?" he said
as she gasped and twisted. "We could bring another guy in. Or a couple of them.
Every guy in this class would love to have a crack at you, Miss Proctor."
"No," she said sharply. "No, Sean, you can't do that."
"Can't I?"
"No. No, Sean, please. Don't even think about it. Please."
"Tell me there will be a next time," Sean said.
"All right," Abby Proctor said. "There will be a next time."
#
The next time, which was the following day after class, he had her lock
the door, then he came down to the front of the room and put his hands on her
breasts. When she instinctively raised her hands to his, he told her to put them
down and leave them down, and she did. She stood with her hands at her sides and
let him feel and knead and twist her breasts through her blouse and bra until he
was satisfied with that, and then he told her to pull up her skirt and pull down
her panties and bend over her desk so he could give her a good whipping before
he fucked her ass. She was panting as she did what he said, standing at one side
of the desk and leaning over it, the wooden edge cutting into her hips. He told
her to bend further, all the way down, until her upper body lay on the desk, her
breasts crushed against the surface, her arms stretched out to clutch at the
other side, her ass jutting out sharply. He took off his belt again and whipped
her ass with slow, hard, measured strokes, her ass and her upper thighs, harder
than he had whipped her the first time, and much longer. When her screams got
too loud for comfort, even though it had been the last class of the day and most
people in the school had left, he picked up her panties and stuffed them into
her mouth. Then he went on whipping her. When his arm was tired he dropped his
pants and moved behind her and spread her buttocks and jammed his cock into her
asshole. While her half-muffled screams went on. Then he fucked her mercilessly.
When he finished he pulled the panties from her sobbing, moaning mouth
and allowed her to collapse onto the floor. Then he sat down in her desk chair
and told her to clean him off with her mouth. He put his hands in her hair and
held her to him until he came again, this time down her throat. He didn't have
to tell her to swallow it.
"You liked that, didn't you, teacher?" he said finally.
She was lying on the floor, moaning.
"Didn't you, Miss Proctor?" he repeated.
"Yes," she said, almost inaudibly. "You know I did."
"Yeah. How about next time I whip your tits?" he said.
"Oh god!" Abby Proctor said. There was real fear in her voice. But not
fear alone.
When she reached for her panties he grabbed them from her. "I'm gonna
keep these," he said. "Anyway, you don't need panties, Miss Proctor. Whores
don't need panties, they want to keep their cunts right there and ready all the
time, you know? And you're a whore. Aren't you, Miss Proctor?"
"Damn you," Abby said.
"Come on, teacher. You are, aren't you?"
"Yes," Abby Proctor said. "I suppose I am."
"So you don't need panties. So don't wear them to school any more, okay,
teacher?"
She looked at him, startled. "But--"
"No buts. That's an order."
"You think you can--"
"Yeah, I do. And so do you. Don't you, whore?"
She closed her eyes. "You bastard."
"You gotta stop that, too. Tell you what, just for that I want you to
stop wearing bras too."
Her eyes opened. Wide. "I--I can't...please...I can't...."
"You can. You will. Cunt whore teacher bitch."
Abby Proctor moaned.
"Get the fuck out of here now," Sean said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
#
She wore a full, loosely cut blouse the next day, hoping that it would
make her unbound breasts less obvious, and she tried not to move in a way that
would make them sway or bounce too conspicuously. Still she was self-conscious
all day, and she thought she saw some of the students looking at her strangely,
but she couldn't be sure. During her last class she avoided Sean's eyes. But she
knew he was looking, and there was moisture in her loins. Her naked loins.
He stayed on after class, of course. Vaguely she thought that they would
have to be careful, his staying after class every day was going to look
suspicious, if it didn't already. But it was a half-thought, overwhelmed by the
pounding turmoil of her fear and desire as he came down to the front of the
room.
"You naked under there, teacher?" he said.
She nodded. "Yes."
"Show me."
She took off her blouse. Then the skirt.
"Good little whore," he said. "Couldn't hardly tell with that big loose
shirt there. Tomorrow wear something tighter, okay?"
"Sean. . . "
"And a shorter skirt, too. Show those sexy whore legs."
"Sean, listen. . . "
"What?" He reached for her breasts.
She tried to speak calmly. "Listen to me, Sean, all right? If--if people
find out--if they see--if this gets around, you understand? I'll be fired. Or
worse. And we won't be able to do this any more. You have to understand this,
Sean. Please."
"Suck my dick," he said.
She wasn't sure whether this was a command, or simply his way of
responding to what she was saying. It didn't matter. Her knees went weak, and
she sank down to kneel in front of him. He let her unzip his fly and pull out
his stiffening cock. Her mouth opened to take it in, but he stopped her.
"Rub it over your face," he said.
With a small gasp she leaned forward to put her lips against his hard
manhood. Then, holding it with one hand, she slid it over her face, over her
cheeks, her forehead, her chin, over her eyes. His pre-come left a thin trail of
slime on her skin. She rubbed her neck with him, then her face again, rubbing it
all over and panting slightly, until he told her to stop. "Suck it, Miss
Proctor," he said. "Suck me off, teacher bitch, and when I come I want you to
take it all over your face. You got that, whore?"
She made a small moaning sound and swiftly took him into her wide-open
mouth. He grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her away from him, pulling
her head back sharply and making her cry out with pain. Holding her that way, he
spoke above her anguished whimpers. "I asked you a question, Miss Proctor. You
answer me when I ask you a question, you stupid slut bitch. Now answer!" And he
jerked her head back even further, making her scream.
"Yes, Sean!" she gasped, tears of pain running down her face. "Yes, I've
got it, yes!"
"Good." He released her hair then, and immediately she put her moaning
mouth on him again, taking him as deep as she could. As she sucked him, sobbing
and whimpering, he told her she was a stupid fucking cocksucking bitch slut, a
schoolteaching whore and a sick, shit-eating cunt. Over and over he told her
that, and more, and his words only made her devour him more eagerly, to pleasure
him with more avidity and skill. And when he was ready to come she slid her
mouth off his cock and held it close to her face as it spurted out great ribbons
of come, which splashed onto her skin, onto her cheeks and her eyes and her
mouth and up her nose and into her hair. And when finally the spurts dribbled
off, she rubbed the tip of it over her lips, milking out the last drops with her
hand, taking it all on her face.
"You look good that way, teach," Sean said, grinning at her. "Too bad
the whole class can't see you that way."
"Sean. . . "
"Tomorrow, bitch," he said. "Something tight on top. And a short skirt.
And still no underwear. You got that?"
"Yes, Sean," she said.
#
"I've done it again," Abby Proctor said. "I've ruined myself all over
again. I'm going to get fired, Michael. I might even get arrested. Even if I'm
not arrested, I will have to move again. I knew it would happen, Michael. I knew
it going in. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop myself. Just like always."
"Who is it this time?" Michael asked.
"Oh Christ. A student. A boy. In one of my classes. Seventeen fucking
years old, Michael. Seventeen fucking years old, and a cretin, for god's sake, a
goddam dumb kid, and I don't know what it is, Michael, I swear, I look in his
eyes and I'm lost. Because he's got that thing in him, damn it, that thing, I
don't know why, I don't know how, but he's got it, and he knows, and I can't
stop myself. Jesus, damn it, Michael, why?"
"I don't know," Michael said. "Why don't I have it? Whatever the hell it
is."
She smiled at him, in spite of everything. "Because you're a nice guy,
Michael. You're a good guy. You're sweet and gentle and kind and everything that
a good guy should be. And any normal fucking woman would be lucky as hell to
have you. So why for god's sake don't you go out and find one?"
"Because I only want you," Michael said.
"Then you're as crazy as I am."
"Only not in the right way," Michael said.
"No," Abby said. "Not in the right way. God, I wish you were."
"Yeah," Michael said flatly. Then he said, "So what are you going to
do?"
"What am I going to do? I'm going to go on being his fucking slave, and
I'm going to go on giving him everything he wants, and I'm going to do
everything he tells me to do, until he ruins me. That's what I'm going to do,
Michael. And not even God can help me."
#
The next day she wore a pullover top that clung to her breasts and
clearly outlined her nipples. She had tried on several shirts and blouses, but
without a bra, those that were tight enough looked even more lascivious than the
pullover. She also wore her shortest skirt, which came to the middle of her
thighs. She had not worn it for years, and would never have worn it to school.
If not for Sean.
This time there was no doubt about how the students were looking at her.
Most of the boys stared openly, and a couple of them even made remarks about how
good she looked. The girls looked too, and whispered gigglingly to each other.
She taught her classes in an agony of self-conscious embarrassment. Again she
did her best to avoid making her breasts jiggle, and she had to be very careful
when she sat down.
But it wasn't only the students. Her fellow teachers quite obviously
took notice. There were raised eyebrows and a few shocked faces among the female
faculty, and as for the men--well, their reactions weren't much different from
the male students. Men are men.
During her last class she avoided Sean's eyes. But the knowledge that he
was watching her shame herself at his bidding made her nipples hard, as was made
quite evident by her tightly clinging top, and the boys stared harder than ever.
When that class was over and Sean, as usual stayed behind, he didn't
move from his seat. He simply unzipped his pants and took out his large stiff
cock. "Come and get it, teach," he said, grinning.
She knew he wanted her to crawl again, so she did. In her skimpy outfit,
again soiling her bare knees and her hands on the dirty floor. She reached him
and opened her mouth, but he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head
back forcefully, so that she was looking up at him. She cried out with the pain
in her scalp. He only pulled harder, still grinning.
"You like that, don't you, teacher. You like what I'm doing to you." He
yanked her head further back. She gave another cry. "Don't you, cunt?" he
demanded.
"You...you know I do," she gasped. "You know I can't help it. You...you
rotten...AAAHHH!"
He had reached down with his free hand and pinched a nipple hard through
her top. "Don't be nasty, Miss Proctor," he grated. "That makes me feel bad.
Besides, you like it that I'm rotten. Don't you, you cock-sucking, pain-loving,
crawling little whore?"
She moaned thinly, partly from the pain and partly in reaction to his
words. "Yes," she gasped helplessly. "Yes..."
"Damn right. Now listen, teacher cunt. My parents are gonna be away this
weekend. I want you to come to my place. We'll have a couple of days together.
Come over Saturday morning around ten. Okay, teach?"
"Sean...I don't think...listen...that's not a good..."
Again he pinched her nipple, pulling harder on her hair. She shrieked
loudly, her body twisting. Then he bent down, his hand suddenly leaving her
nipple and diving under her skirt, probing roughly between her legs.
"You're wet, teacher." He brought his hand out and rubbed his fingers
over her face, smearing some of her vaginal juices across her lips. "God, you
really do love this, you twisted bitch. Yeah, Saturday at ten. And wear this
outfit, I like it. Only wear some nice high heels with it, okay? You got that,
Miss Proctor?"
She closed her eyes. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, Sean."
"Okay." He released her hair. "Now suck me off and let me get out of
here."
Which she did.
#
He lived in an apartment building a couple of miles from the school. She
was there at five minutes to ten. As he had stipulated, she wore the same
outfit, plus high-heeled shoes, which made her legs seem more exposed than ever.
She drove there, praying that she wouldn't see anyone she knew. She took the
elevator to his floor, found the apartment door and rang the bell. She was
breathing a little faster than usual, and she felt shaky.
Sean opened the door and looked her up and down, grinning. "Right on
time, Miss Proctor. Looking good there. Real sexy. I like those heels, teach."
"Thank you," she said absurdly. She waited for him to move aside and let
her in. But he didn't.
"What do you want, teacher?" he said.
"What? What do I--Sean, you--you told me to come here."
"Yeah, I know. And you came. So what do you want?"
"I--I don't know what you mean."
"Sure you do. You want my dick. Right, teacher slut?"
"Sean..." She looked around fearfully. There was no one in the hall, but
there were several other apartments on that floor.
"You want to suck my dick, right, Miss Proctor?"
"Sean...let me in...someone might..."
"Tell me that, teacher. Tell me you want to suck my dick."
"Sean, please..."
"Tell me!" he said in a louder voice.
"All right!" she said hastily. She glanced around again, then said,
nearly whispering, "I want to suck your dick."
"I can't hear you, teach."
She gave a low whimper. "I want to suck your dick," she said in a normal
tone, though her voice was shaking. "Please let me in, Seah, before someone--"
"Not yet," Sean said. "Take your clothes off first."
She stared at him, stricken. He just looked back at her.
"Here?" she choked out. Her knees felt weak. Again she looked around
wildly. "Sean, I can't. Not like this. What if somebody comes out, or--"
Sean closed the door in her face.
She stood there.
The door stayed closed.
Go home, she told herself. Turn around, go home, get away from this. Get
your life back.
She rang the bell.
When Sean opened the door, she took off her pullover. There were tears
in her eyes.
He held out his hand for the garment and she gave it to him. Then she
took off her skirt. He took that too.
"You can leave the shoes on," he said. "Okay, teacher. Now you can suck
my cock." He pulled down his zipper and took it out.
Her head swam. She was shaking from head to foot. With an effort she
kept herself from looking around again. What was the use? There in the hallway,
in front of Sean's door, naked but for her shoes, she sank to her knees and took
his cock in her mouth.
"Good teacher bitch," Sean said.
She sucked him with tears running down her face, until he pulled away.
"That's enough for now," he said. He stood back, swinging the door open. "Okay,
teacher slut. Crawl in."
She did so. Once inside, at his direction, she crawled down a short
hall, then turned right, into his living room. There she stopped short and
screamed in shock and horror.
There was another boy sitting there.
Immediately, instinctively, she rolled onto her side and curled herself
into a ball, hiding herself with her hands as best she could. She had recognized
him at once. Jules Barnett, a student in the same class as Sean. She felt
herself unable to breathe.
"What's wrong, teach?" Sean said mockingly. She hated him at that moment
more than she had ever hated anybody. "You know Jules. He's in our class. I
thought I'd invite him over, just to liven things up a little. you know?
Besides, he doesn't get much, so I figure it's like a good deed, you know?"
"Holy shit!" Jules said. He was a skinny, pimply youth with unkempt
hair. "Jesus, you weren't kidding! Miss Proctor herself! Oh Christ! Look at
that!"
"Sean--" She couldn't look at either of them. She kept herself in a
tight ball, though she knew she was still partially exposed. More than that, she
knew, despairingly, that she could not hide herself for long. That if this was
what Sean wanted, this was how it would be. "Sean, you bastard!" she choked.
"How could you do this? Don't you see how stupid you are? Oh dear god..." The
tears came again, but she bit her lip to keep herself from sobbing.
"Don't be like that, teacher cunt," Sean said. He was standing over her
now, and he crouched down and took a handful of her hair in his fist, tugging
slightly. His cock, still poking stiffly out of his fly, was above her face. He
pulled her to him. "Show Jules what a good little cock-sucker you are, Miss
Proctor," he said, twisting her hair. "Show him how a little teacher whore eats
dick." He shoved his cock in her mouth and she took it in, whimpering. The sobs
came now, but still she sucked him, egged on by his hand in her hair, and by his
words, and by the utter shame and degradation that made her want to die, and yet
at the same time made her feel more alive than anything else in the world. She
hated Sean, and she hated herself, and she hated the wide-eyed boy who was
panting and squirming as he watched her doing this, and she did it until Sean
shot down her throat and she swallowed it all and Sean let her go and she fell
back, crying.
"See?" she heard Sean say. "The crazy bitch will do whatever I want. She
can't get enough of it."
"Oh my Christ!" Jules said. "Oh, goddam, this is fantastic! I can have
her too, right? You said I could have some, right?"
"Yeah," Sean said. "Miss Proctor is gonna be real nice to both of us
today. Aren't you, Miss Proctor?"
"Sean..." she gasped.
"Hey, teacher, don't stay all curled up like that," Sean said. "Jules
wants to get a good look at you. Come on, stand up and let him see."
"Sean--"
"Get the hell up!" Sean said, his voice harder now. "Fucking sick twat.
Get on your fucking feet. Now!"
It was no use. He was drunk with the power he had over her, which she
could do nothing about, and he would use it to the limit, even if it meant
destroying the source of that power. Slowly, achingly, she straightened her
body, and she heard Jules take in his breath with a hiss as more of her
nakedness was exposed. With some awkwardness, she rolled onto her knees and then
got to her feet, standing nude before him.
"She's something, isn't she?" Sean said as Jules stared at her
open-mouthed. "Okay, Abby. Tell Jules you're going to suck his cock for him."
She closed her eyes, then opened them again. Her throat was tight. She
forced herself to take a breath, blinking away the last of her tears. "I'm--I'm
going to suck your cock for you," she quavered.
"And fuck him too, teacher," Sean said. "Tell him you're going to fuck
him too."
She swallowed. "And fuck you too," she breathed.
"Yeah. In fact, he can do anything he wants with you, right, teach? Just
like me. Tell him that. Go on."
Again she took a breath. Her breasts lifted, and she saw Jules' eyes
devouring them. "You...can do anything you want with me," she whispered.
"Damn right," Sean said. "Now show him, you sick little whore. Show him
good."
Abby's eyes were glazed, and she was unaware of the little whining sound
she made as she moved closer to where Jules was sitting, and as she got down on
her knees and opened his trousers and took his stiffly straining cock into her
mouth.
#
They fucked her all day long, and into the next day. They were young and
resilient, and Abby's sensuous body, her obedience and docility, and her passion
when aroused by the pain and degradation to which they subjected her, kept them
stimulated and inspired. They fucked her singly and together. Many times she
fucked one of them while pleasuring the other with her mouth. Jules, while not a
virgin, had had limited experience, and this was his introduction into the joys
of ass-fucking. It was also his first experience with physically punishing a
woman, and he soon discovered that he enjoyed it greatly. Beating his teacher
with a strap after having sex with her was an activity that made him ready
again, time after time. It revived Abby too, although Sean had to muffle her
screams, which he did by stuffing her pullover into her mouth, or else by
filling it with his cock.
When they got hungry they had her cook for them, and while they ate at
the table they kept her on her hands and knees, throwing scraps onto the floor
for her to scarf up. To wash them down, they gave her their urine, which they
had collected in a large glass. She cried as she drank it down, but she drank it
all as they watched. They did this several times during the day and night, and
finally, when they were all completely exhausted and it was time for Jules and
Abby to leave, they put her in the bathtub and pissed on her as a parting
gesture, both of them emptying their bladders all over her face and body. She
begged Sean to let her take a shower after that, but he refused. She put on her
pullover and skirt and went home, dripping and stinking of piss. As she left,
Sean told her that he was thinking of bringing in some of the other guys in the
class next time. Maybe even all of them. "What the hell," Sean said. "The more
the merrier, right, teacher slut?"
#
On Monday morning she went to school earlier than usual, and before her
first class she went down to the principal's office and asked to see him.
She had, of course, again dressed in accordance with Sean's orders, and
Dr. Croft, the principal, obviously took note. His eyebrows rose as he offered
her a seat. "Yes, what can I do for you, Miss Proctor?"
Abby took a breath. "You are going to find this out sooner or later, Dr.
Croft, and probably sooner, so I wanted to tell you myself. I am having an
affair with a student."
Dr. Croft's eyes widened. "An...an affair?"
"Yes. A sexual affair. With a student in one of my classes. I wanted to
tell you this, as I say, before you learned it from other sources. And I wanted
to tell you that I would like very much to keep my job, and that I will do
anything I can to make that happen. I want to make that very clear." She took a
breath. "I will do anything at all to keep my job, Dr. Croft. Anything."
Dr. Croft frowned. "I'm not sure I--" He cleared his throat. "Uh, this
is a very--ah, serious matter, Miss Proctor. Um. Uh, who--who is the student,
Miss Proctor?"
"I'd rather not say, Dr. Croft. I don't want to get him in trouble if
it's not necessary. I take full responsibility for the situation, and I am
hopeful that between the two of us, we--you and I--can work it out."
"I, uh--I'm not quite sure what you're getting at, Miss Proctor."
"Would you like me to spell it out for you, Dr. Croft?"
"Um, yes. I think that might be a good idea, Miss Proctor."
"All right. I have put myself in a very dangerous position, Dr. Croft.
Due to my own stupidity and weakness, I am in imminent danger of losing my job,
and possibly more than that, if this situation is not kept quiet. It may prove
impossible to do that, but at least as far as my job is concerned, you, as
principal of this school, have the power to fire me for my actions. I wish to
avoid that, and in order to do so I, as I say, will do anything at all. I would
give you anything you want. Now I have very little money, Dr. Croft, or anything
else of material value, so the only inducement I can think of to offer you
is--myself."
"You--" Dr. Croft cleared his throat. "You are--ah--offering me,
uh--sexual favors, Miss Proctor?"
"I am."
Croft stared at her. His mouth opened as if to speak, but he said
nothing. His face got red and he seemed to be breathing more rapidly, and for a
moment she wondered if he was going to have a heart attack. His eyes went up and
down her body as she sat there, and she saw him swallow hard. When he finally
spoke his voice was even thinner than usual.
"You--you are, ah, a very attractive woman, Miss Proctor," he said.
"Thank you."
"Yes. Um. Very attractive indeed. I, um, I have no doubt that...that
most people, most men, would be, would be, uh...eager to, to take advantage of
such an, such a generous, that is, such an opportunity. Indeed. But I, uh, I
am...I am an old man, Miss Proctor. You, your...your charms would be wasted on
me, I'm afraid. Uh. I am no longer...that is, I require rather special, ah,
types of...well, stimulation, I suppose. Uh...that is...so you see...I don't
think..."
"Dr. Croft." She sat forward in her chair, deliberately careless of how
her skirt rode up over her thighs. "Listen to me, please. When I said I would do
anything, anything at all, I meant exactly that. Whatever you need, Dr. Croft,
whatever it takes, I'll do it for you. Please, I know I can give you what you
want. Just tell me. I swear I'll do it. Please, I can't lose this job, Dr.
Croft. Please. I'm begging you. Anything you want. Anything."
"But..." Dr. Croft hesitated. "But you see...Miss Proctor...if that were
true, ah...it would mean...uh, it would entail identifying the young man, you
see. Um. Necessarily. And, um...and securing his, ah, his agreement. You see."
"His agreement? To what? Why?"
"Because you see, I...ah...would like to...to be in a position to,
um...to observe...as it were...to be able to, ah...yes, observe...the, um, the
two of you. In...in your...ah..."
She caught her breath. "You want to--to watch, you mean? To watch him
and me...in action?"
"Ah. Well. That is...yes...ah, yes. That would be...my desire, Miss
Proctor. That would...that if anything would...ah, induce me to...well...to keep
silence in this matter. And...and would allow me perhaps...that is, would,
ah...would possibly give me the...the strength, shall we say, to...to um, take
advantage of your ah, of your generous, um, offer..."
"Oh god," Abby said. "You want to watch the two of us, and then do it
with me afterwards?"
"Or..." Dr. Croft shifted in his chair. "Or perhaps... um...
simultaneously."
"I see." She paused. "Well, you know, he just might go for that." She
looked at him until his shifting eyes met hers. "And you'll guarantee that I'll
keep my job? No matter what happens?"
"As far as it is, um, in my power, yes," Dr. Croft said.
"All right," Abby said. "I'll ask him."
#
"You fucking bitch!" Sean said. "You told the fucking principal?!"
"I had no choice, Sean," she said, as calmly as she could. "Don't you
see? It was the only way I could protect my job. Because of you, this is going
to come out any minute now. This is in your interest as well as mine."
"Because of me? Fucking bullshit. Jules isn't gonna fucking tell
anybody."
"How do you know that? You really think he can keep this to himself? And
what about all those other boys you threatened to bring in? What about the way
you're making me dress? You can't seriously think this is going to stay secret.
And once it comes out it will be all over. That's why I don't understand why
you're doing those things. But I had to try to get some insurance. It probably
won't do any good. It'll probably be a lot bigger than Dr. Croft can handle. But
at least I had to try."
"Twisted cunt," Sean said. "I ought to fucking beat you up, only except
you'd like it too much. So now you want me to fuck you in front of old Crazy
Croft? Let him get his rocks on by watching you suck my dick, and then you can
suck his? That's what you want to do?"
"If that's what it takes," Abby said. "And evidently it is."
"Yeah, only you just said you don't think that's gonna do any good
anyway, right?"
"Probably not. It might postpone things a bit. Or maybe not. But it's
all we have at this point."
"Christ, you're a cold fucking cunt."
There was a long pause. When Abby spoke it was in a very low tone, and
with some difficulty. "How can you say that?" she whispered. "How the hell can
you say that to me, you stupid brainless boy? If I was cold, would I be in this
situation right now? If I was a cold cunt, would I have let you take over my
life like this? My life! Would I have this rotten twisted weakness that made me
submit myself to you, to some immature moron kid, give you my body and my whole
goddam being, just because you have this--oh god! And I knew what would happen.
I knew! I fucking knew! But I did it anyway. And I'm still doing it. And you say
I'm cold?" Her voice had gradually risen, and she was almost shouting now, and
sobbing. "God, I hate you!" she said. "Oh god, I hate you so much!"
"Yeah," Sean said. "And you need a good whipping, too. Pull up your
skirt and bend over."
And she did.
#
After he had whipped her and fucked her ass and had her clean him with
her mouth, he slouched back in her chair, zipping himself up. "Okay," he said.
"If this whole thing is gonna blow up, then we might as well make the most of it
while it lasts, right, Miss Proctor?"
Abby was sitting on the floor, cradling her head in her hands.
"What--what do you mean?" she whispered.
"I mean we're gonna go all out. Tomorrow. In class. We're gonna let it
all hang out, and show everybody what a sick crazy cunt you are. That's what I
mean, teacher."
She looked up at him. "No," she said. She was going to say more, but
tears were suddenly flowing from her eyes. It didn't matter. Nothing she could
say would do any good.
"This is gonna be a blast," Sean said.
#
Abby functioned in a daze throughout the next day. She could think of
nothing but what was going to happen that afternoon, during her last class of
the day. Sean's class. At times the thought of it made her physically ill, so
that she thought she would throw up. At one point she actually did throw up,
though luckily she made it to the teachers' lavatory in time. At other times the
thought of what was coming caused her heart to pound and her crotch to get wet
in spite of herself, and at these times her fear and self-loathing became almost
overwhelming. She could still get out of this, she knew. But she also knew she
wouldn't. She would do whatever Sean wanted her to do. She was complicit in her
own ruin.
But it didn't happen. As the students filed into her classroom for the
last period, Sean came up to her desk. "I changed my mind," he told her. "Too
many girls in this damn class. I gotta do something about that. I'll talk to you
after."
She almost fainted with the feeling of relief that flooded over her.
Even though she had to acknowledge to herself that part of her also felt a
twinge of disappointment. And even though she knew the reprieve would be only
temporary.
Sean stayed after class, of course. "We got an appointment, teach," he
smirked at her. "With old Croft. I set it up with him. He's waiting for us now.
Let's go."
Abby swallowed. "Are you--you mean we're going to--"
"Yeah, you made the deal with him, right? Well, now's the time to follow
through. I told him we'd give him a show, all right, but I wanted him to do
something for me too. And he's gonna."
"What--what do you mean?"
"He's gonna set it up so the girls won't be in class tomorrow. He'll
arrange something else for them to do. I don't know what, that's his problem.
But tomorrow this class is gonna be all guys, teacher slut. And every one of
them has been dreaming about getting a taste of you all term long. It's gonna be
something to see!"
Abby thought she might be sick again.
"Let's go, teach," Sean said again. "We don't want to keep the principal
waiting, do we? Poor guy probably hasn't had a hard-on for ten years, but you're
gonna give him one today, all right. Come on."
Her legs felt wobbly as they left the classroom and walked down the hall
to Dr. Croft's office. When they got there Sean looked around at the deserted
hallway and told Abby to get down on all fours. When she hesitated he drew back
his fist and, without warning, punched her in the pit of her stomach.
Shocked and stunned, she crumpled to the floor, struggling to take air
into her lungs. The short skirt rode up to her hips as she writhed and flailed,
hands clutching her stomach, mouth wide and gasping.
"Hands and knees," Sean said, kicking her in the side. She rolled over
and, finally managing to get a breath, somehow got herself up on all fours. She
was moaning and panting heavily.
"That's how he wants to see you," Sean said. "Like a dog. Like the bitch
you are." He opened the office door. "Okay, crawl in, bitch."
Slowly, painfully, she crawled. Through the door. Into the office. Where
Dr. Croft was sitting behind his desk, staring at her.
"Well, here she is," Sean said to him. "On all fours like the bitch she
is. Okay, Doc. What do you want to see first?"
The principal's voice was a strangled croak. "I want--um--As--as I told
you, Mr. Myrus--I want to see you...you and she...ah..."
"Fucking," Sean said. "Yeah, I know. But which way, Doc? Straight on?
From the rear? In the ass? You want her to suck me off? Or you want to see me
whip her first? Anything you say, Doc. She'll do it all, and she'll love it. So
what do you say? You want her to strip for you?"
After her first glance at his wide-eyed, staring face, Abby could not
look at the principal. She kept her eyes on the floor. But she could hear him
breathing now--panting, really. The vulgar, familiar tone Sean was taking with
the head of the school enraged her. It was because of her he could do that.
Because of his mastery over her, and Croft's pitiful, weak little lust. She felt
tears come to her eyes, but she did her best to blink them away. As she crouched
there on her hands and knees, waiting to be used.
"I--yes," Dr. Croft said chokingly. "I would--ah--like her to...to take
off..."
"The doc wants you to strip for him, teach," Sean said. "He wants to see
you naked, just to start off with. So let's go. Get up and get those clothes
off."
When she didn't move quickly enough, Sean reached down, tangled his
fingers in her hair, and pulled sharply. She came up, moaning, and finally stood
in front of the principal's desk, swaying slightly and still looking at the
floor.
"Take it off, teacher slut."
It didn't take long, though to her it seemed to stretch out endlessly,
as in a nightmare. With trembling hands she grasped the bottom of the snug top
and pulled it off over her head. Then she unclasped and unzipped the skirt and
let it fall. And that was it.
She heard Dr. Croft's gasp. And then his panting, louder than before,
and quicker. "There you go," came Sean's voice. "That oughta give you a hard-on,
Doc, right?"
"I-I want--" Croft croaked. "I want to see--I want you to--"
"Yeah, okay," Sean said. He reached down to his fly and unzipped
himself. "Bend over the desk, teach. Spread your legs."
And she did. Just as she had done for him again and again in her own
classroom. Bending over the desk so that the edge of it cut into her waist.
Bending all the way down, her breasts flattening against the hard surface, her
face resting on Croft's blotter. Her hands grasping the sides of the desk. Her
rear end sticking out. And with her legs spread as far apart as she could
manage. She heard Sean laugh softly. She heard Croft's loud breathing. And she
heard herself moan. In fear? In shame? In anticipation? Probably all those
things.
Then she felt Sean's hands on her. And then his cock. Taking her.
Pushing into her ruthlessly, like a tank. Of course she was already wet. But
still she had to gasp at the brutal invasion. And then he was battering her,
plunging in and out like the cold heedless bastard he was, and she was moaning
continually now, her body juddering with each hard thrust. And she was crying.
She heard the sound of a zipper in front of her. She knew what it meant.
Croft was taking out his penis. Sean's treatment must be working.
Now Sean withdrew from her and she felt his hands spreading her ass
cheeks. Oh god. He was going to--
She screamed as, with no preparatioin, he plunged up her ass. Her head
came up from the desk and she yelled, and through her tears she caught a glimpse
of Croft, his face twisted with lust, his hand moving at his crotch.
Her head sank down again, but through her pain--and her other
emotions--she heard Croft's voice. "No," Croft choked out. "I--Look at me, Miss
Proctor. I-I want to--I want to see your face..."
"You heard the man," Sean said, and then his hand was in her hair and he
was pulling her head back, bringing a squall of pain from her and forcing her to
look up at the small man in front of her, who was stroking himself frenziedly.
His face was red, his mouth open, his chest heaving with his labored breathing.
Sean held her that way until he came inside her. Then he released her
hair and her head fell onto the blotter with a thud. Her legs felt weak, and she
clutched at the sides to keep herself from sliding off, moans and whimpers
coming from her mouth. She knew he wasn't finished.
"You want to see me whip her now?" Sean asked.
"I--" Croft's voice was a strangled gasp. "I do...yes...but I...I want
her to...I want--"
"I got it." Sean's hands now grasped her just below the hips, and with
one strong motion he lifted her lower body and pushed her forward, until she was
lying across the desk with her legs sticking out on one side and her head
hanging off the other. "There," Sean said. "Now she can suck you good, Doc. Just
grab her hair and twist it if she gives you any trouble. But she won't. Right,
teacher slut?"
She made a sound. It was a wordless, throaty sound, and again it meant
many things. But one of the things it meant was no. She wouldn't give him any
trouble.
Croft moved up close to her, and his small but now very stiff cock was
in front of her face. She opened her mouth for him and he put it in, giving a
little cry as her lips closed around him. She heard Sean's evil chuckle as she
began to suck.
Croft's hands did grasp her hair, but he didn't pull or twist, just held
onto it as if to steady himself as she sucked and licked at his cock. She didn't
think he could last very long. Of course Sean would expect her to swallow it.
And she would. Of course. Or would he...
Then she froze for an instant as she heard the sound of Sean's belt
being removed. A sound she knew well. Oh god. He was going to whip her while
she...
"Don't bite him, teach," Sean said, raising the belt. "You be careful
now, 'cause if you bite him I'm gonna whip your tits off you, you got that,
teacher bitch?"
She made a sound around Croft's cock, and then another, louder,
shriller, more agonized sound as the belt came down across her backside.
"Keep sucking, baby," Sean said.
She kept sucking. Croft was making hoarse noises with each breath now,
and she sucked him harder, trying to bring him off as quickly as possible. But
Sean brought the belt down again and again, across her ass and her back and her
thighs, and at each blow she cried out around the cock in her mouth, desperately
fighting the urge to clamp her teeth around it in her agony.
And finally Croft came, shooting strongly but meagerly into her twisting
mouth. Sean told her to swallow it, but she already had. Croft staggered back
and collapsed into his chair, breathing like a bellows. Sean pulled her off the
desk to her knees.
"Now me," he said.
He was hard again from whipping her, and after she had sucked him off
and swallowed his jism and cleaned him off with her tongue, he asked Croft if he
wanted her again, but Croft, still breathing hard, shook his head. "I can't," he
panted. "But I...but that was...it was..."
"Yeah," Sean said. "But that's nothing to what you'll see tomorrow in
class. You're gonna be there, right, Doc?"
"Yes," Dr. Croft said. "Yes, I...I am looking forward to it."
"Yeah, so am I," Sean said. "And so is she. Aren't you, you sick little
whore?"
Abby was still on her knees, her head bowed, naked, aching and
exhausted.
"Yes, Sean," she whispered.
#
She couldn't sleep that night.
If she went into that classroom tomorrow, her life was over. It was as
stark and as simple as that. There were sixteen boys in that class. There was no
way they could all keep it to themselves. It would be all over the school by the
next day. It would be public knowledge soon after. She would be ruined. She
couldn't just run away this time, it would be too big, it would follow her. She
would probably go to prison. Surely she would never be able to teach again. She
might as well kill herself. She would be killing herself.
She couldn't do it. She must not do it.
Sixteen boys. Taking her. Sixteen sex-mad, lusting boys. Making free
with her body. Doing whatever they wanted with her, egged on my Sean's ruthless
example. Fucking her. Hurting her. Making her crawl for them, making her suck
them, degrading her, using her mercilessly, on and on and...
Oh god. She was wet. Her nipples were throbbing. Her hands went between
her legs and she heard herself moaning as she played with herself, thinking
about it.
No. No, she couldn't go through with it. She wouldn't.
She had to.
It's crazy, she told herself. It's stupid. It's suicide. I can't.
I have to.
No.
I can't help myself.
I can. I must.
Sixteen boys. Sean urging them on. Dr. Croft watching. Her naked body
spread out on the filthy floor, the boys...
No!
Yes.
#
In the morning she was still arguing with herself. And still losing.
Don't go in, she told herself as she put on her tight top. Call in sick,
stay home today. Pulling on her short skirt. You don't have to do this.
What's the use? she thought. If not today, it will be another day. If I
go away, it will happen someplace else. I can't help it. I have to do it.
Try. For god's sake, try. It's your life!
If I could stop myself...
You can.
I can't.
Try!
How?
Then she thought of the handcuffs.
She had almost forgotten them. Left behind by an old boyfriend, one who
had liked to play games with her. Her kind of games. Bondage, domination. Until
she found that games weren't enough. Games weren't real.
This was real.
No. Try. Please try.
She found them at the bottom of a drawer. The key was still in one of
the tiny keyholes. She looked around. The bed. She could cuff herself to the
bed, to one of the vertical rails in the headboard. So she couldn't get loose.
Couldn't go in to school. But...
Do it.
But she had to think rationally. How would she...
Michael.
Oh, this was stupid. Who was she kidding? She was going to school, she
was going to that last class, she had to.
No.
Call Michael. Do something smart for once.
Hopefully he hadn't left for work yet. She picked up the phone, started
to dial. Then she hung up. She sat there holding the phone.
Then she took a long breath and punched in his number.
"Hello?"
"Michael. Listen. I-I need you to do me a favor."
"Sure. What's up?"
"I-I want you to come to my house later today. After work, okay?" That
would be safely past school hours. "It's important, Michael, I'll--I'll explain
when you get here, okay?"
"Well okay, but what's going on, Abby?"
"I--I'm going to--I have to--" But she couldn't explain now. "I'll tell
you later, Michael. Listen, I'll put the front door key under the flowerpot
outside, so you can just come on in, okay?"
"That sounds very mysterious," Michael said. "Aren't you going to be
there?"
"Yes, but--Oh Christ, Michael, don't ask me now, I can't--Just please be
sure to come around, okay?"
"I will. But Abby, are you all right? You sound--"
"I'm fine," she said. "Thank you, Michael." And she hung up.
Okay. She could do it now. Michael would be around to release her in the
evening, and until then she could just lie there. She would be okay. And she
would be saving her life.
But what about tomorrow?
Never mind that. If she could just get through today. Stay away from
that class. It might give her strength to break out of this--this thing.
Maybe.
Just get through today.
She tried not to think about the class as she methodically did what she
had to do. First placing the door key under the flowerpot, so Michael could get
in. Then taking the key to the handcuffs and, after making sure both cuffs were
open, laying it carefully on a table in the bedroom. Then picking up the
handcuffs and taking them to the bed. Not thinking about the class. About the
sixteen boys who would be waiting for her. About the things they would make her
do. Lying down on the bed. Stretching her hands over her head, through the bars
of the headboard. One hand holding the cuffs.
Do you really want to do this?
It's the only way.
But Sean. The class. The boys waiting.
The only thing that saved her was the feel of the hard metal cuff as she
placed it around her left wrist. There was something about it that gave her a
tingle somewhere in her mind. Quickly then, she closed it around her wrist,
hearing the finality of the click-click as it embraced her flesh. She closed it
as tightly as she could.
It felt good. Cold. Hard. Unforgiving.
But the class. Sean. She could still--
No. Decisively, she put the free cuff around her other wrist, clicked it
closed. Tightly.
Now she couldn't get away.
She could only lie there with her arms stretched over her head. The
position was not uncomfortable, but the cuffs were a little tight. Well, she had
seen to that. And there was something good about that tightness, something
compelling in the grip of the hard cold steel against her flesh. Experimentally
she tried tugging on them, but the headboard rail was thick and solid, and the
cuffs were far too snug to let her slip out. Well, that was the plan. No matter
how much she might want to, she wouldn't be able to get to that class.
But what about tomorrow?
One day at a time, she told herself. Isn't that what they tell people
trying to break their addictions? One day at a time. If she could keep herself
away today, maybe she could be strong enough to stop--
Bullshit, she thought. As Sean would say. And Sean...oh god, what would
he do? He would be so angry...He would...
Suddenly, thinking of what he might do, her nipples were hard and she
was moist between her legs. Oh, Jesus, she thought. It's hopeless. I'm hopeless.
What am I going to do? Again she tugged reflexively at the tight handcuffs, and
their unrelenting grasp only made her hotter. She squeezed her legs together,
rubbing them against each other. She could almost come, just thinking about
Sean...and the class...and the sixteen boys...
Stop it! she told herself. Oh god, why? Why?
Lying there, she began to cry.
When she stopped crying she just lay there with her eyes closed, trying
not to think. Trying not to feel what she felt. And after a while she fell
asleep.
She was awakened by the sound of the doorbell. Startled, she tried to
sit up, and was jerked back by the handcuffs. Oh god, she thought. Who could
that be? Someone from school maybe, sent out to see why she hadn't shown up? No,
they would have called first. Probably just a salesman or something. They'll go
away when there's no answer.
Then there was the sound of a key in the lock.
Michael! It had to be. But-- She glanced at the clock on the bedside
table. It was only one-thirty. Oh Christ, why was he--
She heard the front door open, and then his voice. "Abby?"
Damn him. But there was nothing she could do about it now. "I'm in here,
Michael," she called.
His footsteps approaching the bedroom, his voice coming closer. "You
sounded so damn strange on the phone I figured I'd come over on my lunch hour
and see what--" He stopped, and his eyes went wide as he appeared in the
doorway. "Jesus Christ! What the hell--"
"It's all right, Michael," she said as he rushed over to her. "I was
just--"
"My god, Abby, who did this to you?" He was fumbling with the handcuffs
now, pulling at them ineffectually. "Did they--are you--"
"I'm fine, Michael, listen to me," she said firmly. He straightened up
and stared down at her, and she suddenly became conscious of how she looked. She
was still wearing the skimpy outfit she had put on that morning. The tiny skirt
was almost around her hips, showing all of her legs and more, and the tight
pullover was stretched over her braless breasts by the position of her arms. She
was somewhat embarrassed by her exposure, but that was the least of her worries.
"Damn it, Michael, you were supposed to come after work," she muttered.
"I couldn't wait, I wanted to see if you were all right. What the hell
is going on, Abby? Who did this?"
"I did it," she told him. "I was trying--I wanted to--Oh Christ." And
she told him the story. He already knew about Sean, of course, but since their
first conversation about him she had kept most of the details to herself. Now
she told him about the class, and what Sean had in mind for her, and how she had
decided to keep herself from going in. "But Christ, what's the use, Michael?"
she said then. "I still want to go. I can't help it, I can't control it. If I
don't today, I will tomorrow. It's no use, it's hopeless. You might as well let
me go right now. Just take these things off me and let me go. The key is on the
table over there."
"No, Abby," Michael said. "For god's sake, you can't give up like that.
Look, this is good, what you did, you're trying to fight it, to save yourself,
and you can. I'll help you. I'll stay with you, all right? We'll do it
together."
"Come on, Michael, that's crap," she said impatiently. "This thing isn't
going to go away. And I can't stay here forever. I have a job to go to, and so
do you for that matter. This was a bad idea. Just please get the key and let me
go."
"I'm not going to let you do this to yourself, Abby," Michael said
firmly. "And that's all there is to it. I'll call my office and tell them I
won't be back today. And we'll worry about tomorrow later. Now look, if I take
those handcuffs off will you promise not to try to leave?"
"No!" she said defiantly, and instantly regretted it. If he took the
cuffs off she might be able to get out, even with him here. But if she said yes
now, he would see through her. He was too damn smart.
Michael sighed. "All right, then we'll have to keep you this way. I
can't fight you physically." He looked down at her body and kind of blushed.
"Here, let's cover you up." He drew a blanket over her up to her chin. "Are you
comfortable?" he asked then. "Can I--do you want something to eat, or--"
A plan was forming in her mind. The longer she lay there like that, the
stronger was her desire--her need, her compulsion--to keep her appointment with
Sean, to get to that class and whatever awaited her there. She had to. If she
could get out of these cuffs...if she could get Michael to...
"What's the matter, Michael?" she said in a softer tone. "You don't want
to look at my body? I always thought you liked it."
"What?" Michael said.
"You do, don't you?" Abby said. "You've always said you wanted me. You
weren't just saying that, were you, Michael?"
"I--What--Of course not," Michael said. "But what does that--"
"Then why cover me up?" Abby said. "It's not cold in here. Take the
blanket off." When he made no move, she kicked at the blanket, pulling it down
with her toes, thrashing her legs until she had kicked it off onto the floor.
The effort pulled her wrists harder against the cuffs, abrading them slightly.
She was panting a little, her nipples moving up and down under the tight top,
and the skirt had risen even higher, exposing a bit of pubic hair. Michael
reached for the blanket to put it back on her, but she said, "No!" so sharply
that he stopped.
"Look at me, Michael," she panted. "Take a good look. Or are you afraid
it will excite you too much?"
"What is this, Abby?" he demanded. "What are you doing?"
"What do you think? I'm excited too, Michael. If I'm not going to go to
Sean I--I need something. I need somebody. You always wanted me, Michael. Well,
now's your chance."
Michael was deliberately not looking at her. "Come on, Abby," he said, a
little hoarsely. "This is not the time or the place. You--you're just
feeling...frustrated or something. I'm not going to--I can't take advantage of
your--"
"Look at me, damn it!" Abby moaned, and when he did she arched her
straining body from the bed, turning it toward him as best she could. "Please,
Michael," she said imploringly. "I want you. I need you. Please."
Michael licked his lips. "It-it's not me you want, Abby," he husked. But
his eyes did not leave her now. "We have to be strong, both of us. If we can--"
Deliberately she raised her knees and parted them, spreading her legs
apart, letting him see what was between them. He gave a little gasp. "Come here,
Michael," she whispered. "Come over here. Please."
"No," Michael said. But he moved toward her anyway, as if propelled by
an invisible force. "Abby, god, we can't--"
"Yes we can," she breathed. "You said you wanted to help me, Michael.
Well, you can. I'm so hot, Michael. Help me out. Take me."
"Not like this," Michael said. "For god's sake, Abby. This is--"
"Kiss me, Michael," Abby pleaded. "Just kiss me. Please. I know you love
me, Michael, and I could love you too, I know I could. It's just this sickness
of mine, and you can help me with it, Michael, just like you said. Help me by
loving me now. Please. Please, I'm begging you, Michael. Please love me."
"Abby..." He sank down to sit on the side of the bed, as though his legs
could no longer hold him. "I do love you, Abby," he said hoarsely. "You know I
do. But I--"
"Kiss me, Michael." She shifted her body again, rubbing his thigh with
hers. "Please kiss me."
He made a sound in his throat as he bent to her. She raised her face to
him, and their lips met.
She put everything she had into that kiss. She made it sweet and sexy at
once. She pressed her lips to his with loving fervor, and she moaned against his
mouth, and then her mouth opened and their breath mingled, and then her tongue
poked out, tentatively at first, meeting his, and then more boldly. She ran her
tongue slowly over his lips and then slid it into his mouth, probing it, and
then she withdrew it and took his tongue into her own mouth. Their tongues slid
against each other, their lips nibbling, demanding, devouring, and when their
mouths parted they were both breathing hard.
"Abby, Christ--" Michael panted. His hands had not touched her during
the kiss, but that had taken an effort, she knew. She saw that they were
trembling now.
"Touch me, Michael," she said breathelssly. "Take me. Come on. You want
it, I want it. Take me. Fuck me, Michael. Yes. Fuck me, damn it. Fuck me now!"
"Oh god!" he groaned. "Not this way. Christ knows I want you, Abby, but
not like this. Not...not helpless like this, and...and your hands..."
"Then let me loose," she whispered. "Unlock the cuffs and I won't be
helpless any more. And I'll be yours, Michael. All yours."
He was lost. Her heart gave a great leap as he rose and went to the
table to get the little key. He was going to let her loose! But he wouldn't just
let her go, she knew that. He was stronger than she was, she would have to trick
him. She would have to give him what she promised first. But that was all right.
She really was aroused, very aroused, from the restraint of the handcuffs, from
thinking about Sean and the class...there would still be time to get to that
class, if she could only...
Michael was bending over her now, fitting the key in the hole at the
base of one of the cuffs. He turned it, the cuff snapped open and one wrist was
free. She didn't wait for him to do the other one, but brought her arms down
immediately, reaching for him and pulling him down on top of her. Her mouth
found his again, and with one hand she reached between them and hastily pulled
down his zipper.
"Abby...Abby, god..." His hands were on her now, pushing up her top,
finding her breasts. She shifted beneath him as she pulled his cock free,
getting into position, arching to him, guiding him to her. "Wait, wait," he
gasped. "Let me..."
But she didn't wait. She was very moist, and once she had him there he
slid quickly inside her with a great groan. Immediately she wrapped her arms and
legs around him, pulling him to her, and began to move strongly and
rhythmically, her hips pumping up and down. "Yes, Michael," she panted in his
ear. "Yes, do it, Michael, oh yes..." Squirming against his fully clothed body,
tonguing his ear, kissing his face, his mouth, moving harder, clutching at him.
He was gasping and moaning and she knew he wouldn't last long. Sean, she
thought. Sean... And then she was coming, crying out as her body spasmed. It
took Michael over the brink, and she held onto him as he spurted inside her,
moaning loudly.
Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of her. "God, Abby, I...I'm sorry,"
he panted. "I didn't...I wanted it to be..."
"It's all right, Michael," she murmured. "It was good. It was fine.
Really."
"Next time will be better," he promised. "When we can...get our clothes
off and...and do it right..."
"Yes, darling," she murmured. "We have plenty of time." She kissed him
softly. Then she said, "Oh god, Michael, I'm--I'm really thirsty. Could
you--would you get me some water or something?"
"Of course," Michael said. He got up then, hastily adjusting himself,
and with a tentative smile left the room.
As soon as she heard him moving around in the kitchen, Abby leaped from
the bed, swiftly pulling her top down over her breasts and smoothing out the
tiny skirt as well as she could as she moved to the bedroom door. There was no
time even to put on her shoes, and they would make too much noise anyway.
Quickly and quietly she made her way to the front door, frantically grabbing her
car keys from her purse as she passed the hall table. Then she was out the door
and headed for her car at the curb. One cuff was still locked around her left
wrist, the other one, which Michael had unlocked, hanging from the little chain,
gaping open. The key was back there, she couldn't do anything about that now. As
she got behind the wheel and started the engine, she saw Michael come out of her
house. He was shouting and running for the car, but she pulled out with a squeal
of rubber and drove away, going too fast for safety but leaving him behind.
She could still make it, she thought, glancing at the clock on the
dashboard. If she hurried. There was just time. The last class. Would they have
gotten another teacher, a substitute, when she didn't show up that morning? God
please no. But Dr. Croft had planned to attend this class, he would probably
take it over. She was driving fast, and there were tears in her eyes, blurring
her vision. Don't let me have an accident, she prayed. I have to get there.
Tears, why? But she knew. The handcuffs dangled from her wrist like a piece of
obscene jewelry. Poor Michael.
Poor me.
She got to the school and parked haphazardly in a no-parking zone right
in front. She didn't bother to take her car keys, she had no place to put them
anyway. Rushing into the building, the ground rough again on her bare feet. Oh
god, it was time, it was after time. Rushing through the halls to her classroom,
she was aware of people staring at her in astonishment and shock. Gaping at her
scanty, wrinkled outfit, her bare feet, the hanging cuffs, the tears running
down her face.
The classroom door was closed. She stopped outside it, panting with
exertion. And with fright. And excitement.
But she didn't open the door.
She could still save herself.
She could hear the students inside the room. Loud voices, talking,
shouting, arguing. Masculine voices.
Then she heard Sean's voice above the others. "She'll be here, I'm
telling you!" he was saying. "She'll be here any minute, I know she will! She
can't stay away. The fucking bitch does everything I tell her! She'll be
crawling for all of us. So just settle down, you guys, this is gonna be a ball!"
Abby heard herself whimpering.
No, she thought. I can still go. I don't have to do this. Just turn
around and leave. Go someplace else. Start over.
Please.
But she couldn't move.
Bowing her head as if in defeat, she caught sight of the handcuffs
again, one clutching her wrist, one hanging open. Slowly then, she moved both
her hands behind her. Holding the open cuff with her left hand, she put her
right wrist into it, then pushed it closed. All the way, as tightly as she
could. So that her arms were fastened behind her back.
She had to turn halfway around before she could get hold of the doorknob
and turn it with one cuffed hand.
Then she opened the door and went in.
