Preface:
The world you're about to enter is not exactly like the one that we have become accustomed to. School discipline over the last fifty years, although becoming more liberal, is still considerably more strict than in our reality. In certain particular localities, private schools can be especially severe with how they can discipline the adult students: with their parent's permission, of course.
A Note to the Reader:
This tale is the beginning of a very long series I have been creating for nearly four years now. The original story, A Student's Lesson, was a product of my earliest attempts at writing and is now in the Novels/Novellas category. It only contains the first part of the overall arc, however. The Caged Student now replaces that. I must warn you that this writing does contain Non-Consensual and Reluctant themes, so if that is not your thing, do not proceed. All characters are at least eighteen years old.
The Caged Student
Chapter One
September 5th, 1999
"What the hell is this?" I ask under my breath. I'm having one hell of a bad day. Every bank report I've touched has had some kind of problem. It's now early afternoon and there's no way I'm getting home on time. That's when Will comes to the rescue.
"Hey Collin. I have your A.P. report completed here."
I look up at our newest hire. I'm only three years older at thirty-five, but he has the energy of a college intern. "You did?! All of it?"
"Yeah. It's printing downstairs right now."
I whistle. That changes everything. In fact, I've just about finished the overseas reports and was about to shift my way into the morass of paperwork on my desk. At least this is mostly busy work. "Where does all this junk come from?"
Will shrugs. "You look beat. Why don't you call it a day and head home?"
I stare at the papers. Does this really need to get done? It's for my own records anyway. "Yeah. I guess I can go and relax for once."
"Go ahead! We'll finish up here. Racquetball Saturday?"
"Sure. I'm up for another beating. Hey. Thanks again."
"You got it boss."
In just a few minutes, I jump into my car and drive quickly home. It's well before rush hour, and none of the schools have let out yet. I can just beat Sally there and maybe have a little me time. The girl has been getting on my nerves lately. She's eighteen going on twenty-one and is becoming a real problem. Even two years ago, when I married her mother, the girl was always arguing with her. Not me, though. At least not until recently. We'd respected each other's boundaries and privacy, but now it's as if she's going out of her way to make me uncomfortable. Things like inviting her friends over nearly every night this summer: all of them running around in crop tops and tight shorts...
Well, I didn't put my foot down. Truth be told, I enjoyed being the 'cool' dad. Having all those girls coming over to sun themselves or watch movies did give me a little thrill. But casual looking is one thing. Doing something about it is another. There are some lines you don't cross, and I'm content with that. But my step-daughter keeps on pushing.
I'm this close to sending Sally to her mother. How did I get talked into taking care of her anyway? During the divorce, we'd agreed that she would take most of the money, but I keep the house and the teen. At the time it seemed like the best I could hope for. Now? What was I thinking?!
Pulling into the driveway, I already start anticipating that first beer. Maybe a swim to stretch out my knotted back. It's early September and still warm enough. Tossing my keys on the counter, I start for the fridge. That's when I see them through the bay window.
Four teenagers. All in swimsuits. Two of them are boys! Whatdafuck!
I check my clock. Two-thirty. School isn't out for another half-hour. My eyes quickly locate Sally, who's flat on her stomach, tanning in a stringy two-piece affair. Laying next to her is her friend, Susan Stuart. The young redhead's pale skin is practically glowing in the bright sun. Well, at least in comparison to my step-daughter who's obviously trying to shrink her tan lines to the bare minimum. That swimsuit is failing to contain her mashed mounds properly, and they're pushing out to the sides for all to see.
What is that young man doing? He's sneaking up on them. An instant later, the rangy blond snags Susan's untied top and pulls it away. I stand there transfixed as she hops up, seemingly unashamed of her very perky B cups. I knew I should be doing something. Anything but having my eyes remain locked on the gravity-defying flesh. They barely bounce as she chases the offending boy around the pool, waving his prize. As my step-daughter's best friend continues to prance, I realize that there's a steadily growing tightness in my pants. I know her father for God's sake! Yet I make no move as she continues her chase.
There's more movement, and I drag my eyes away to notice the other boy making an obvious attempt to do the same thing. Sally sees him coming and just smirks. As he reaches down, the solidly built girl grabs his shorts. An impromptu tug of war starts, in which Sally begins to get the upper hand. The sight of the young man's pale cheeks appearing finally spurs me into action.
I slam the back door open. The look on all of their faces is priceless as they try to cover up. Unfortunately for Susan, her top is halfway around the pool and she clasps each breast in hand. "Mr. Montgomery!" At the same moment, Sally releases the shorts and tries to contain her prodigious bust in the too-small bikini. "Collin? Fuck!"
I stand there and glower. No dad. Or sir. Just Collin now. "What the hell's going on here?" I hear some umms and ahhhs from the teens, and I focus on the girl who actually looks at least a bit sorry. "Susan! What will your father say?"
The tall boy comes around and tries to hand the red-faced girl her top. She doesn't reach for it. "Sir! I'm sorry! Please don't call him!"
I slowly walk over to her, and those green eyes look up at me in surprise. Grabbing the top from the boy, I drape it over her shoulder. "Go inside and get dressed. I'm driving you home." I don't scream, but I must have conveyed how pissed I am. The young redhead doesn't even argue as she runs into my house. "You boys. I want your names and numbers and then get out of here!"
They do so with a few apologies tossed in for good measure. After they scamper off, it's just me and my; ward. If she won't show any respect, then why should I? "What the hell are you doing out of school with boys at my house?" The long-haired brunette shrugs with some exaggeration daring me to look down. Over the summer she's been trying to make me feel embarrassed by just glancing in her direction. I promise myself this time it won't work. "Go to your room and get dressed. We'll have this out when I get back."
"Whatever..."
The girl turns her back on me and makes no effort to cover her half-bared backside. She heads in as if she's in no trouble at all! I clench my fists for a moment until I get my emotions under control. I can't lose my head. If I just start yelling, then she'll just close me out. And then? I just don't know anymore.
Susan stands in the living room dressed in her school uniform. She's much more presentable in the white shirt, tie, and a light jacket with the school emblem emblazoned on the breast. Her knee-length pleated skirt, white stockings, and black laced shoes complete the look of a young lady in her senior year at Warrington Prep. She watches me closely as I walk straight to the door. "C'mon then."
"Sir... Please."
I turn back and stare at her for a moment. She's trembling. I can't stop now. "You're going home so your dad can handle this."
A tear now. "I don't know why..."
"It doesn't matter," I bite out. "I thought you were the responsible one."
"I know, sir."
Susan's narrow shoulders sag as I point out the door once again. She follows me meekly and sits in the passenger seat as I start the car. Knowing the way, I pull into the street as the young lady wrings her hands. "He's going to kill me."
