Nicola Redux

Nicola Redux*

Olwen's introduction. This is a work of fiction, dreamed up since joining Literotica and being inspired by lots of very hot kinky stories that I've already read. I don't think I'm a vain person, but I have been self-centered enough to include a character based on myself. She is quite different to me, but I enjoyed putting myself in her shoes. I note that many authors here include a disclaimer that says all characters in the story are 18 or over, and that all sex is consensual. This applies to this serial too. If you like it, please vote and leave comments

*One dictionary definition of 'Redux' is 'to bring back' or 'to bring home safely.'

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Chapter One

The taxi drew up outside the detached house in the middle of The Close that Nicola was so proud of. She and Kevin had struggled hard to find a deposit for the large property in such a well sought after area of the town, and now most of her teacher's salary went on paying the extortionate monthly mortgage. But, as Kevin said, as an up-and-coming junior executive, with some prospects of soon becoming an under manager at his insurance company, he couldn't be expected to live just anywhere. Nicola, as was her nature, tended to agree.

She thanked the taxi driver and handed over five pounds. He merely grunted, and made no effort to help her as she struggled to get out of the car with her two heavy bags of shopping. No sooner had she closed the taxi's back door, than the car zoomed off, and Nicola realised that she hadn't had her change.

"Never mind," she thought to herself. "Tonight is going to be special."

She hefted the two bags and walked slowly up the path from the pavement to her front door, pausing half way to give her aching arms a rest. As she bent down to pick the bag up again, next door's front door opened and Mr Watkins came out, dressed in his pyjamas and with one slipper on. He waved at Nicola.

"Good morning, my dear," he said cheerfully, dropping his pyjama trousers and holding his cock in one hand. He sprayed pee all over the flower pots lining the path to his house, shook himself and pulled his trousers back up.

Nicola crossed the lawn that separated the two houses, and took him by the hand, ensuring that she only held the one that hadn't been holding his cock.

"Mr Watkins, have you taken your medication today?" she asked. She knew that the old man had suffered terribly since he'd lost his wife to cancer some eight months ago. He hadn't been coping very well when she was alive, but his dementia had worsened since her death. She helped him back into his house, sat him down in his favourite armchair and phoned the local surgery.

A nurse came three times a day to see to his basic needs, so she was reassured when she was told that the carer on duty was only three minutes away. When the lady concerned turned up, Nicola told her what she'd witnessed, and left, telling the nurse that it was her wedding anniversary, and that she was going to prepare a celebration meal for her and her husband.

The nurse beamed, wished her a Happy Anniversary and thanked her for looking after her patient until she had arrived. Nicola left her to it.

She retrieved her shopping and went into the house. As a teacher, she was well used to routine, and she'd planned out the evening to the Nth degree. Taking her bag off her shoulder, she took out her note book and opened it, She scanned the notes that she'd written to herself.

"Put the steaks on a plate to come up to room temperature. Peel the potatoes and onions for Kevin. Wash and chop the mushrooms. Prepare my salad. Open the wine, and put a glass in the freezer so that Kevin can have a nice cold lager whilst he's waiting for me to cook supper."

She turned over a page in her notebook, and continued to read to herself.

"Have a quick shower. Shave my pussy and legs, because Kevin doesn't like hair or stubble. Put on Kevin's favourite dress, which should still fit. No bra or underwear." (This last note had three exclamation marks after it).

"Serve Kevin his meal and eat together, at the dining table not in front of the television. Keep a cool head, so no more than two glasses of wine. It's Kevin's favourite, a nice full bodied Rioja, so he can have most of it. Then 'allow' Kevin to take me to bed and ravage me. The End!"

She set to her tasks efficiently and quickly. Soon the food was prepped and the wine opened. She quickly set the table, using the best linen tablecloth that they'd had from Kevin's sister as a wedding present. The table was set with the best china service, crystal glasses and proper linen napkins. Her final task was to write a romantic message in the anniversary card that she'd bought at dinner time, seal it in the envelope, and leave it propped up against Kevin's wine glass.

When she'd finished, she stood back and surveyed her work. She smiled to herself in approval.

"Good job, Nicky," she whispered to herself. "Now hurry up and get yourself showered and shaved. Kevin will be home in less than half an hour!"

She hurried upstairs to the main bedroom, drew the curtains and quickly stripped naked. Then she padded into the en suite bathroom and turned on the shower

She quickly soaped herself, and then less quickly used a safety razor to take off all her leg hair and her thick curly pubic bush. She gathered up the discarded hair and flushed it down the toilet and dried herself. She used her favourite body lotion all over, shivering as she rubbed it into her large breasts with their very sensitive nipples. She thought dreamily of how Kevin would pay particular attention to her boobs later on. After all, he was, in his own words, a 'tit and arse man'.

As she was dressing, the phone started to ring. She got the zip on her dress caught in her rush to do it up, and lost some time sorting that out. As she left the bedroom, she heard the answerphone click in.

A familiar voice said, "Hi. It's only me. Listen, something's come up. Bloody John Lewis has gone home early with the shits or something. Mr Price, the manager needs something by yesterday, and he's asked me to stay on and do it for him. It'll do my prospects no harm at all."

"So don't wait up for me. And don't bother preparing food. Malvina's agreed to stay too. She'll get us a take-away, or a pizza or something. I'll see you in the morning. OK? And don't forget, I'm playing golf with the lads at midday, so don't go suggesting that we go somewhere together."

Nicola stood as if she was rooted to the spot. She couldn't move, so great was her disappointment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the beep of the answerphone told her that Kevin had gone. He hadn't even remembered to wish her a Happy Anniversary!

She forced herself to move, and as she did so a heavily accented Polish voice came from the answerphone.

"Did she go for it? Are we on for tonight?"

Nicola didn't understand. It was Malvina, Kevin's secretary speaking. How on earth was she, Nicola, hearing this?

"Yeah, the stupid bitch doesn't suspect anything. Anyway, I told her the truth. Price does want something urgently. The fact that I've already done it shows how efficient I am!"

"We'll be off down the club in ten minutes. Should give you enough time to wear that new fetish gear I bought you. I think I'm right in saying that it's your turn to be the top this time, isn't it?"

"Yes it is, slave," she replied harshly, "I'm Mistress Malvina tonight, so don't you forget it!"

"Yes, Mistress," replied Kevin meekly, and they both burst into laughter.

Nicola sobbed her way upstairs and flung herself on the king sized bed. She hadn't had sex for nearly six weeks, and her husband was proposing to play some sort of perverted kinky game with his bitch of a secretary instead of seeing to his wife on their anniversary. She sobbed and sobbed, and eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

Fourteen months later...

The bell to signal the end of the lesson, the end of the day, and indeed, the end of the week rang out and Nicola's plea of "quietly and carefully, please" was drowned in the sound of twenty eight chairs being scraped back along the floor, mixed with the exited chatter of plans for the weekend and the general buzz of relief that school was over for another week,

This hadn't been one of Nicola's regular classes. She'd been covering for a colleague who had an appointment for a pregnancy scan at the local hospital. As it was a Friday afternoon, and Nicola wasn't familiar with most of the class, they'd reached an agreement. The pupils could sit where they liked, and read, draw, do their homework (fat chance!) or chat, provided that whatever they chose to do was done quietly.

It had worked quite well, leaving Nicola alone with her thoughts. Lately, she'd lost her passion for teaching, and, she reflected, it was showing in her daily performance. Her lessons were uninspiring and her pupils were getting bored. As a result, discipline in her classroom was slipping, and Nicola found herself sending more and more unruly pupils out of her class to report to senior management for punishment.

She surveyed the classroom, and smiled sadly to herself. Yet another example of her lack of control. At the end of the school day, chairs were meant to be placed on top of desks, so that the cleaners had better access to the floor. Wearily, Nicola got to her feet. She'd save the cleaners some time and stack the chairs herself before going home for what she had decided during the last lesson, would be the weekend when she made up her mind whether or not to stay in teaching, or to go back home and try and re-start her life.

Working her way methodically down one row and up the next, Nicola had reached the far point of the classroom. She'd nearly finished. Bending down to place the last chair on the desk, she noticed a piece of screwed up paper on the seat of the chair. Thinking back, Nicola identified the group who had been sitting at this table. Two girls and three boys, she remembered, although she didn't know any of them personally. They'd started off quietly enough, but had begun giggling and getting a little bit too loud for Nicola's liking, and she'd had to remind them that they were being disruptive on a couple of occasions. She wondered if the screwed up bit of paper was the cause of their laughter.

She put the chair on the desk and unfolded the paper and looked at it. Tears sprang into her eyes, and she almost vomited with disgust.

She was looking at a cartoon character which, even through her tears, was recognisable as herself. She was naked, and kneeling on all fours, so that her large breasts hung down. Her nipples were huge and were being stimulated by hands, the owners of which were unseen. She was sucking an unfeasibly huge cock, and drool was running out of both sides of her mouth. Her eyes were watering, and her nose leaked snot. Printed at the bottom was the legend 'Mrs Moran the cock sucking slut.'

Suddenly, she realised that she was going to be sick. She raced from the classroom, snatching her bag from the teacher's table at the front and hurried to the staff room. By the time she got there, the feeling of nausea had passed, but she was now crying uncontrollably. She tried the door to the toilet in the staff room, but it was locked.

"Damnation!" she muttered to herself, and sat down to stare at the hateful cartoon again. She shuddered, and crumpled the paper up again and threw it at the waste paper bin. It missed and fell to the floor.

"Typical!" she thought to herself. "I'm just a complete failure. Well, that's it. I don't need the weekend to make my mind up any more. I'm going to hand my notice in on Monday. There's only one week of term left, so as soon as school breaks up a week today, I'll no longer be a teacher!"

Nicola dried her eyes. She decided to make herself a cup of coffee before she went home, because the coffee in the staff room was much nicer than the stuff she could afford at home. She moved to the kitchen area and put the kettle on to boil.

As she waited for it, she heard a voice behind her.

"Mrs Moran? Nicola? What are you still doing here? It's Friday afternoon, school's finished and you're still here. Don't you have a home to go to?"

Nicola turned to face Miss Bowen, the formidable Deputy Head teacher. She was about to make up some story when the older woman exclaimed "You've been crying! Is everything alright? Come here, my dear."

Miss Bowen put her arms around Nicola and hugged her. Nicola was aware of a musky perfume that she assumed Miss Bowen must favour. It was, she had to admit, rather nice.

"What on earth has upset you so," asked Miss Bowen in a concerned voice. "I hope that your pupils have been behaving. If not, they'll have me to answer to!"

Nicola made up her mind on the spot. She smiled rather weakly at her colleague and took a deep breath.

"I'm better now, thank you, Miss Bowen. I had a bit of a shock, but actually, it has turned out for the best. It has helped me come to a decision. I'm going to hand my resignation in on Monday!"

Miss Bowen pursed her lips and shook her head. She grabbed hold of Nicola's hand and led her back into the sitting area. Nicola followed meekly. They sat down and Miss Bowen turned in her seat to look directly at her young colleague.

"You most certainly are not!" she snapped, then her face softened as she smiled and continued, "You are a valued and respected member of staff here. I will not allow you to walk away from this school until you have given me a satisfactory explanation as to why you have decided on this ridiculous course of action."

She folded her arms and waited for Nicola's response.

Nicola bit her lip and blinked rapidly. She was going to have to tell Miss Bowen everything.

"I've been thinking that my performance as a teacher has slipped over the past year or so," she began. "My husband has left me, and I'm struggling both financially and socially. I've been considering changing direction for a few months, and then I found something after school had finished. It upset me a great deal, and basically, it made my mind up for me."

"The pupils here don't respect me, and I'm not doing them any favours either by staying on. No. Miss Bowen, I'm afraid my mind is made up. I'm finished as a teacher!"

"What was it you found that has upset you so?" asked Miss Bowen, and Nicola got up, retrieved the piece of paper and handed it to her.

Miss Bowen straightened it out and looked at it. Her face darkened in anger and she looked at Nicola.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," she said softly, and then returning her gaze to the offending article, she muttered to herself, "Those k's in 'cock sucker. I've seen them before somewhere."

She got up, and Nicola made to rise too.

"Stay where you are! Don't move! I'll be back shortly." she commanded, and Nicola sank back into her chair.

She was as good as her word. In less than three minutes, she returned to the staff room, flourishing a pupil's book in triumph.

"Got it!" she grinned, sitting back down next to Nicola and opening the book so that they both could see the contents. The page that Miss Bowen had turned to contained a sketch of a well-known local castle, labelled and annotated to show the features of the historic building. It was, Nicola had to admit, an excellent diagram, and she began to read the description which accompanied the drawing.

The handwriting was neat and legible, and suddenly something sprang out of the text and hit her straight between the eyes.

"Those letter k's!" she exclaimed. "They've been formed in exactly the same way as on my cartoon!"

"Precisely!" replied Miss Bowen dryly. "And this book belongs to Cheryl Williams. That little bitch is going to suffer for upsetting you! I knew we were making a mistake when we accepted her into the sixth form after she'd been expelled from her previous school!"

Nicola looked at Miss Bowen in concern. "She's still a school child," she said uncertainly. "What do you have in mind for her?"

Miss Bowen snorted and sat back in her chair.

"Let's get one thing straight," she said firmly. "Cheryl Williams isn't a child. She's a spoiled daughter of a so-called 'good' family. She was expelled from her previous school for smoking, and her father persuaded our brilliant head master to accept his daughter into our sixth form to complete her A level studies. I advised against it, because she'd already failed her A levels once, and I didn't want her to bring our averages down."

"But I was over ruled. The head was persuaded when Mr Williams made a financial donation to the school and agreed to come onto the board of governors.. Cheryl is a clever girl, but she's lazy and has been indulged and spoiled. You do realise that she's nearly nineteen, don't you? This is a criminal act, and she could be sent to prison for it!"

Nicola sat silently, amazed by what she had been told. Eventually, Miss Bowen seemed to make up her mind. She got up and extended a hand to Nicola, who took it and got up.

"Come with me," Miss Bowen instructed. "I need to make a phone call, and then you and I are going home. I'm sure we have a lot to discuss and you can tell me all on the way home. Do you still live in that lovely house in The Close?."

Nicola shook her head. "No. When my husband and I split up, he remained there. I'm living in temporary accommodation at the moment. There really isn't any need for you to take me home. I catch the bus every day, and I'm sure it must be well out of your way in any case."

"I'm taking you home," insisted Miss Bowen, "and you and I need to have a long chat about your future as a teacher here!"

"No," she continued, seeing that Nicola was about to protest, "that wasn't a request. It was an instruction! "

She smiled and led Nicola out of the staff room.

"And I'm sure that you are aware, young lady that instructions from Miss Bowen are to be obeyed completely and without question!"

They went into Miss Bowen's office, and Nicola sat in the visitor's chair whilst Miss Bowen went behind her desk, sat down and picked up the phone.

"It's a good job Williams is on the board of governors," she smiled. "They're all on speed dial on the school phone system."

She pressed a few buttons, and then replaced the receiver. Nicola heard the call being put through and then the ring tone as it was connected. Miss Bowen had the phone on speaker, and when the call was answered, she put her finger to her lips, to indicate that Nicola should remain silent.

"Hello. The Williams residence. This is Edna Williams speaking"

"Good afternoon, Mrs Williams. This is Miss Bowen from the school. How are you today?"

"Oh. Hello Mis...Miss Bowen," replied Mrs Williams, "I'm very well thank you. Is everything alright? You don't normally telephone on this number when you require something."

"Ah. No. This is school business," replied Miss Bowen, studiously avoiding Nicola's look of incomprehension. "Is your husband at home yet?"

"No. I'm afraid not," came the reply. "May I help you?"

"Yes, you probably can," answered Miss Bowen. "Please inform your husband that it will be necessary to have a meeting first thing on Monday morning, to discuss Cheryl's application to her preferred choice of Oxford college. Shall we say at eight on Monday?"

"Yes, of course. I'll inform Mr Williams of your request."

"Good. Thank you. Oh, one more thing. I'm away this weekend, so there will be no point in Mr Williams trying to contact me before Monday morning. I look forward to meeting you both again. Goodbye."

She pressed another button and the call ended, cutting Mrs Williams's reply off.

"Well that's sorted," smiled Miss Bowen rising from her chair. "Now then, I think it's time for us to get out of here! Come on, my dear. Your taxi awaits you!"

They made their way out to the staff car park, which by now was completely empty, save for the very chic, red convertible that belonged to Miss Bowen. She thumbed the key pad, and the doors unlocked with a click.