Teacher Ch. 02

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His teacher is humiliated.
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Chapter 02

His teacher is humiliated

Miss Andrews felt him stirring from a deep sleep and gently eased his head from her breast onto the pillow. It was her turn to be looking at him when he opened his hazel eyes. There was a mix of disquiet and pleasant satisfaction on her face.

"I'm hungry," Denis announced. With a wicked grin on his face he pulled her close and sucked on her soft breast devouring it like a ravenous beast. She pushed with her legs trying to break free but he was ready and wrapped an arm round her calf pulling it up opening her legs.

"Stop it," she whimpered on feeling finger tips probing her lips. "Damn you, let me go," she complained. It was exciting fighting off an ardent young lover but he was her student. It was wrong so she couldn't let him take advantage again. It had been understandable the first time under these extraordinary circumstances but it must stop right now.

"Ask me to stop properly, naughty teacher," he laughed.

Locked in a vice like grip she would have to play by his rules. To avoid being seduced into a state of submission she was going to have to plead for mercy and quickly. "Please, sir, let me go," she whimpered, just as he found her bud. She would capitulate to those teasing fingers if she didn't stop him quickly.

"Teacher must try harder to express herself," he teased.

"Can my favourite student remove his fingers from teachers' pussy, please!" she said in a tremulous voice. This wasn't working for the statement was only adding to her arousal. She was naked on a student's bed begging him to stop fingering her knowing her resistance was fading fast.

"You had better do as I say or else," he grinned, and slapped her ass.

She knew it thrilled him to have his teacher at his mercy and so she would have to play along to get what she needed. Being left alone was the first priority then clothes. Carol felt desperate enough to run home naked.

"Please sir, I need clothes. Thank you, sir," she sighed when he let her go. Carol settled back on the bed letting him take charge for the moment while she struggled to regain some self control. Her legs were firmly pulled together under his disconcerting stare.

"Please, sir, can I have my panties back?" she said. They both broke into a fit of giggles breaking the intensity of the mood. Thank heavens he had been sated for she couldn't take much more. Making love had never been so exciting; it was a pity to give up such exciting sex but it could never happen again.

They heard the front door slam shut damping the sound of raucous young men leaving for an early Friday night out on the town. She looked at him with a meaningful request, her blue eyes wide with expectancy.

"I'll get you some clothes," he said. The simple statement made her heart race with a sense of freedom, of escape; the simplicity of being clothed had come to mean something special. The madness was about to end.

He returned with a cardboard box of feminine clothing when she thought he would bring back a pair of jeans and t-shirt from a larger built friend. The sense of excitement was funny and she laughed out loud.

"Where's my underwear?" she asked.

"I chucked them in the bathroom on the way to his room earlier. They've gone," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Dismissing what she thought was a ruse she sorted through the pile of clothes. She held them up then discarded each garment in turn. She leaped up off the bed to hold a skirt before her. "She's shorter than me and slimmer," Carol stated.

She clipped in place the wraparound skirt only just managing to fasten it around her waist. With a sense of pleasure that she could get into a young woman's clothes she grabbed a top from the bed. It wouldn't button up over her large breasts so grabbed a stretchy boob tube.

He watched her stripping in reverse, yet it seemed all the more sexy. Watching his teacher dressing in the clothes he had brought her gave him a feeling of power over this woman of authority. It was fascinating watching the way she pulled at the clothes trying to make them fit over her luscious body.

Carol didn't need a mirror to see how awful she looked. A glance in his direction was no help for the look of lust emphasised what she felt. "Don't you ever look in the mirror? Not even in the mornings? Is there a mirror in the bathroom?" she asked.

"Make sure there's no-one around!" she said.

The bathroom mirror confirmed what she already knew. She looked like a slut. 'I behaved like one now I look like one,' she wailed inside. "This is almost worse than being caught in my underwear," she complained. Looking around the bathroom confirmed what he said, her underwear had gone.

"You look great!" he told her.

Dismissing his opinion she marched upstairs to sort through the underwear. It was at least clean. Nothing seemed substantial enough to wear under the little skirt but pulled on a thong grateful to have her pussy safely tucked away.

The friends' ex-girlfriend obviously didn't need a bra as the tightness of the boob tube testified to her having small breasts. At least it held her in place though running would be out of the question and even a fast walk would have them bouncing around.

"You look fantastic." he encouraged, trying to cheer her up.

"It's more traditional to bring your teacher an apple." She looked down at her large breasts stretching the boob tube to bursting point. She told him, "It would be a good idea to stick to tradition in future."

She looked and felt like a dumb blonde, exactly the image she had always avoided. Her confidence on facing the world was far smaller than just one of those mounds presented in such a vulgar display.

He took her hands in his kissing them tenderly. She couldn't be annoyed with him for her own silly mistake. He took out a pair of expensive sunglass from a back pocket and perched them on her nose.

"A disguise," he announced.

She laughed and reached up to kiss his lips. He took her into his arms and forced her to take his tongue in an unexpected deep kiss. It took her breath away and lightened her mood. 'Nearly home,' she told herself, trying desperately to remain focused.

She looked at him over the rim of the sunglasses to tell him, "Now be a good boy and run your teacher home. No more sex education you've learnt enough," she said with a mock sternness.

"Marks out of ten?" he teased back.

"A plus, well done young man," she congratulated him.

He watched her trying to pull an extra inch or two from the short skirt and failing as he followed her out to the stairs. He grabbed a handful of bum under the skirt and she hissed at him.

"Go look to make sure they've gone." She stood a moment pulling the skirt into place then followed.

He looked up the stairs for a flash of white panties under the flared navy skirt bouncing up with every step.

"Wipe that silly grin and start the car. Wait! Give me a sign if its all clear." She stood at the door looking up and down the street and soon as the engine revved - why did men have to do that -- ran to the back door and dived in.

"Get me safely home Denis, please," she pleaded. This time she studied him in the mirror while he hummed to himself obviously feeling very pleased. She would have to invite him in and talk him back to reality. No more fooling around. They would have to return to the proper relationship between teacher and student.

***

"It's no good. Everywhere is locked up tight," he told her.

"Did you try the kitchen window, I sometimes leave it open to get rid of cooking smells," she asked. The sincere look of concern told her he had tried hard to get in; almost as hard as he had been getting into her.

"Better drive and park up somewhere, one of the neighbours might come over to find out what's going on," she told him. There was a slight excitement to planning breaking in even though it was her house. They felt like Bonny and Clyde.

"If we smash a window the alarm will go off and attract attention. I know a guy who can get in without breaking anything or making a sound," Denis told her.

"Desperation calls for desperate methods," she intoned and imitated one of his shrugs.

***

They pulled up in a seedy looking area of town. "You had better not stay out here. There's no-one you'd know around here so it'll be OK." he reassured her.

Carol reluctantly got out of the car feeling a little better when he gripped her hand tight. She felt like a little girl afraid of the dark with a big brave man taking care of her. While trying to shrug off the feeling they turned a corner onto a brightly lit street where her confidence evaporated.

"I'm not sure about this," she demurred holding him back.

"Its alright, everyone will assume your my girlfriend. You look young enough and you certainly don't look like a teacher," he told her.

She had to agree about not looking like a teacher. She looked like some dumb bimbo and was feeling like one having let all this get so badly out of hand. There was no going back now; he had the car keys and she had lost track of where the car was parked.

No-one pointed an accusing finger at her and they were soon at what seemed to be their destination. Outside the club a couple of Hispanic guys gave her the once over slowly while continuing their conversation in a halting staccato of sounds. A huge slab of a man wearing a dark suit stood in their way.

"She old enough?" he demanded.

"Yea, she's mine, she's cool," Denis said, with nervous tension clearly in his voice.

A large hand gripped her chin taking a closer look at her face. "No Id, no drinking," the big man warned her and stepped aside.

She felt even more like a damned teenager being taken out by a boyfriend. She trailed along behind him into the club.

In the hot dark cavern of sound there was little chance her mother would recognise her let alone a student and if there was a fellow teacher here they wouldn't want to. She giggled like a schoolgirl and shouted at Denis, "Don't I look over twenty-one," imitating of one of her least bright pupils.

He leaned back looking her up and down. "Funny, you don't. It's your smooth skin and you have a kind of impish look. The sexy outfit distracts from anyone looking at you properly. Just don't go ordering some sophisticated cocktail. Keep close."

She didn't need telling. Through the close packed crowd of rowdy young people she was pulled, feeling lightheaded at getting away with the subterfuge. No-one took any notice of the teacher infiltrating the fun so her confidence started to recover.

It was off-putting squeezing between them, having to rub her breasts against hard young fit men. One or two turned to face her taking a good look at the bulging tits rubbing their chests. From embarrassment she wanted to apologise for them being in the way but after awhile it became a part of the game.

Being dragged through the crowd of moving bodies was exciting. The unfamiliar steady beat of the music vibrating her ribs was unsettling and exhilarating. She felt drunk from the battering of sound and flashing lights to which bodies gyrated in unison. Responsibilities of adulthood lifted from her shoulders leaving her feeling like a teenager again

When a girl sneered at her and pulled on her boyfriends arm she was thankful not to hear what was said. If she had been at a friends party dressed like this a drunken husband would have been sure to goose her yet here, surprisingly, they left her alone.

Though not entirely. The young men looked at her with obvious lust. They hadn't a clue she was a teacher flaunting a bare midriff with lots of thigh and breasts bouncing around. The headiness of the moment had got to her and she was flirting right back at them. They saw her looking like a dumb slut on the prowl and wanted some. It was a heady thought bringing on a familiar naughty feeling.

At last the search seemed completed as they turned out of the main hall into a quieter room. The thump of sound was felt through the wall but at least she was regaining some hearing.

"Hey Joe, thought I'd find you here," Denis said with relief.

"What you up to, haven't seen you around," the young man said, not wanting an answer. He was as tall as Denis looking as though he needed a good meal. His hair was gelled back, stuck to his scalp.

"Who's the tits, yours?" he grinned.

Without missing a beat Denis replied, "Cindy, she belongs to me."

Carol was glad he hadn't revealed her name, more so than being insulted by the arrogant young man. There was a Cindy in her class, a blonde manipulative bitch, so she was a bit miffed that Denis had picked the name so readily.

Denis stood solidly whereas Joe seemed to vibrate on the spot with barely restrained energy. He opened his arms out to her in a greeting but not the kind of welcome she liked the look of.

"Give him a squeeze," Denis prompted with a whisper.

If this was a ritual they had then she had to carry it out for this was the young man who would get her back safely inside her home. She took a step closer and held onto him as though her were a dead rat for a brief hug.

He wrapped both arms around her grabbing some bare ass and squeezed holding on tight. She felt his hardness against her belly and felt terribly vulnerable. She almost kicked out at him but restrained the impulse.

He let her go and she turned to Denis looking to see if this was usual. He didn't like it but sensibly kept his mouth shut.

"Nice ass your Cindy doll has," Joe told him.

She quickly pulled the back of the skirt into place from being crumpled up. She looked crossly at him letting him know she hadn't enjoyed being touched so intimately. It was a damn degrading experience.

Not once had he spoken to her, treating her like Denis' dumb pet. Well, she was dressed like a dumb blonde so what could she expect. All she could do was follow Denis's example, keep her mouth shut and endure it. She held on to the thought of him getting into her house and putting an end to this dreadful day.

"So long as the doll's parents are away it won't be a problem. I'll get the gear," Joe said.

Again on the back seat she scrunched down not wanting to be seen the way she was dressed. She was being ignored but didn't mind at all. Realising they weren't on the way home she started listening to their conversation.

"Just a couple of stops along the way and I'll do you a favour in return. It's handy for me you turned up, my vans in the shop," Joe said.

"Here, this is it. Come in you might meet some useful contacts," Joe enthused.

Trailing behind them reluctantly into a pool hall she wondered if this was a punishment for her misbehaviour earlier. The men were around her age but that only made her feel less confident and uncomfortable from the way she was dressed.

The men ignored the three of them as though they were insignificant kids. Their conversation was course and Carol felt like telling them there was a lady present but under the circumstances she preferred to be ignored.

"You here to pay up, Joey boy?" Freddy asked. He leant on a pool stick looking mean.

"I'm going to but need some stuff. I'll sell it and come back straight away. I'm a good customer Freddy," he said.

"A good customer? A good customer pays," the hard-man told him with a warning glare.

"I'm doing my friend a favour and he's going to pay so I'll be right back and pay you, OK?" Joe told him, looking nervous. He seemed to be hoping from foot to foot only his feet never left the ground.

"Stop your dancing Joey, your putting me off my game. So what's this big favour that's going to pay off your debts," he demanded.

"I'm going to break in to her parent's house, she's lost her key," Joe said, with less enthusiasm now the trivial fact was out.

'Damn, don't involve me you little shit!' Carol thought. What ever in hell he was involved in with these dangerous looking people she just didn't want to know about. Keeping her head down she hoped they would leave her out of it.

"It's not much but when I sell the stuff you give me I'll pay almost all I owe you," Joe pleaded.

"Give you? Sell! How do I know you'll be back once I sell you what you want?" Freddy said, while chalking up a stick. He nodded toward a package and stepped forward leaning over the skinny kid. He put a hand on Carol's shoulder. "She'll stay here till you get back. Take him with you and make sure you return with my money."

Carol cringed. Not from the strong grip of his hand but from the thought of being there, alone, with them. "What's your name?" he asked gruffly.

The numbing fear left her wondering what Denis had called her and she certainly couldn't reveal her name to this bunch of hoodlums. Even if she had been dressed appropriately she would hesitate telling them anything, let alone revealing she was a teacher.

Running around skimpily dressed with a pupil was bad enough but being involved in some racket meant she had to pretend to be what they thought she was. "Cindy," she replied, imitating one of the less likeable students in class. In the dim lighting she might get away with it.

"Over eighteen?" Freddy asked.

Warily she nodded her head. 'Shit, what now?'

"Are you with Joey boy?" he asked.

"No, I'm Denis' girlfriend," she stammered, in a little quavering voice. It was easy to put on for that is how she felt, a little vulnerable thing among fierce looking men.

"Tell him not to hang around with that creep, you as well," Freddy advised.

She nodded her head still trying to hide her face in long hair. She felt small and stupid from acting like a young girl among these men who were her own age. At least it gave her some protection, though their leering looks could be imagined easily enough, almost felt upon her bare flesh.

"Here," he said, offering her the stick. "Shoot some pool while you're waiting."

It was an offer she couldn't refuse however much she wanted to go and hide in the shadows of the shabby pool hall. His voice was full of menace out of habit even when trying to be kind.

With a shove to her back she was propelled toward the table. It suddenly dawned on her what it meant. Leaning over the table in the damn skirt would show off her bare ass. He wasn't being thoughtful he was making her put on a show for his buddies.

The thong merely pursed her lips so it was a disgraceful agony knowing they would be leering at her rear end while she played. Standing there looking stupid she hoped they were teasing and wouldn't expect her to play. She was fooling herself. She felt sick from a sinking feeling in her tummy.

Anyone dressed this way wouldn't care about showing off her body and thinking about the Cindy in her class, she would probably revel in teasing them. One of the players took a hold of the stick and leaned over her. The smell of beer on his breath wasn't pleasant.

"I can do it, thank you," she rebuked him. The others laughed at Hank and he slapped her ass before standing aside. She reminded herself to keep in the role and not antagonise them. She just hoped Denis got back soon. She'd pay off the damn debt just to get out of there.

"That's better we can all see now," one of them quipped.

Carol's hand shook with anger but what could she expect looking like a silly little slut. For once she wished she had learnt to use her looks to manipulate men but this wasn't the place to start that game. One mistake and she would be in serious trouble with these rough types.

Bent over the table showing off her peachy ass they were less raucous than expected. Her husband's friends would have humiliated her, so maybe this wasn't so unusual in a place like this. She wondered what kind of women they were used to.

The word whores came to mind and she shuddered.

"Nice move," Hank commented, looking at the way her breasts shimmied in the boob tube.

12