Chris Collins was nervous and excited at the same time. The 24 year-old petite blond high school teacher flitted around the small house her husband and she had purchased a year earlier when they had moved to the small Texas town from Chicago after completing their advanced degrees.
The house was neat and clean, but she adjusted things as she moved around. This activity was all to hide her nervousness in the last few minutes before four of her high school math students would arrive for some private tutoring.
Private tutoring. Surely that term would get a new meaning this day.
Chris thought back to the events of the previous weeks, and a smile of excitation crossed her face. She felt her labia fill with the blood of her excitation, as she thought back to the events leading up to this Saturday evening. She felt the inside of her sex begin to moisten along with the external signs of her growing lust. The memories were vivid and complete.
She had been in the small supply room her classroom included, straightening the meager supplies the school district provided, trying to assess what she had to work with when things began to take a turn.
The school district was primarily poor agrarian families, and many of her students didn’t have pencil or paper to do their assignments on. The district though poor provided some of these items with federal funds provided by the ‘No Child Left Behind’ Act.
Her attire typical of every other day at school.
A mid-calf dress that flowed from her tiny waist. If it weren’t for the fact her rather large bust always had her looking like she was about to bust the buttons on the front of the dress, she could be characterized a frump.
Chris had always had problems with her DD bust line. It had always attracted attention from men. She wasn’t comfortable with the kind of attention it gained her, but she had grown used to it and had several tried and true techniques to avert their attention when things appeared to be getting out of hand.
Yet there had been some instances where she had almost not used these techniques, because of the feelings some of these encounters had aroused in her. Some of these more aggressive occurrences had been like she had ‘seething slut inside’ tattooed on her forehead. When the men had gotten aggressive she had almost not been able to implement one of her canned responses that always worked to cool them off.
She needed to have her order for replenishment ready by the first of the week and so she was busily counting reams of notebook paper and pencils, etc. She was lost in her thoughts and hadn’t heard Roger White, enter the storeroom.
Roger was typical of most of her students. Big strapping East Texas youths that were muscled and hard bodied, not from workouts in the gym, but from hard days working the fields or logging in the Piney Woods of East Texas. Most boys and even some girls went to the fields or the woods as soon as they were old enough to handle whatever implement the work required. This was necessary to augment whatever meager family income the others in the family brought home.
Roger was also the self-appointed leader of a small group of boys of mixed ethnicity that though not a gang was as close as you would find without going to the hoods and barrios of the inner city.
A seemingly rough lot, their principal tactic was intimidation of the weaker students in school.
Truth be told they had probably never committed a crime greater than disturbing the peace, or drinking underage.
When Roger entered the room, he had quietly closed the door behind him. The lack of light penetrating the room from the open door had caught Chris attention and she turned, just as Roger was upon her. The room was almost completely dark except for the small beams of light that penetrated under the door.
He quickly shoved her up against the wall her diminutive 5’2” form no match for his looming 6 foot plus presence. His hand came down over her mouth and his eyes looked ominous in the semi-darkness. They almost glowed like a predatory animal thought Chris.
“Hello, Mrs. Collins. I have waited for this moment since the beginning of term. I am going to remove my hand from your mouth. If you scream I will be forced to hurt you. I don’t want to have to do that, but I will, so just keep quiet and do as you are told and you won’t get hurt.”
Slowly the strapping 18-year-old high school student took his hand away from her mouth and Chris wisely kept her words in check. She had started to scold the boy and try to regain some semblance of control, but instead remained quiet and almost reveled in the lack of control she was being forced to endure.
The hand that had covered her mouth dropped to her small neck and encircled it. Not tightly so as to cut of her wind supply, but firmly enough to hold her pinned to the wall.
His free hand dropped to the front of her dress and gripped the large melon of her right breast, through her clothing, and began to freely fondle.
Chris hand came up to capture the boys groping fist and she risked speaking.
“Roger, you aren’t supposed to be in here, and you certainly aren’t supposed to be touching me in this way.”
Her words had been completely unthreatening in their tone and Roger hadn’t reacted by tightening his grip on her throat, but the fist that mauled her breast had tightened to a vise like grip that sent lightening bolts of pain through her breast and thrilling feelings of helplessness through the young woman.
“You are wrong. I will go where I please and do what I like, bitch.”
His grip continued to tighten on her breast and after a moment her hand just dropped away from his. Whether it was the pain, the pleasure in the pain, or the total helplessness of her situation might never be known, but his grip eased as soon as she stopped trying to push it away from her breast.
“I see you get the picture slut. You are my bitch from now on. You will do as I say and serve me as a good and proper slave should. Do you understand?”
His words thrilled her. She didn’t know why, but she had to have this. It was wrong and she could get in big trouble if she was found out. She sensed rather than knew his demands on her would be sexual, and that played in her mind for the briefest of instants before she replied. That would mean cheating on her husband, but he was a worthless wimp both sexually and in life. She reasoned the boy was 18 so there was nothing illegal if she were required to have sex with him.
It was a breach of her teaching contract that might result in her loosing her job, but the risk was worth it. Chris had never felt so exhilarated. After the briefest of moments while these thoughts ran through her head at lightening speed, she gave the proper response.
“Yes Sir.”
“That is a good little slave, but you will reply yes Master to anything I tell you to do.”
Her submission was complete and she could do nothing else but comply.
Any thoughts of morality or the fraternization clause in her contract with the school district were gone. Something was awake in her and she had to have this, now.
