Hard Lesson 2

My eyes locked onto the bright red "D" emblazoned at the top of my test.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered.

Ms. Watanabe spun around on her heels. "What did you say?"

Chuckles erupted from the desks around me. I was caught off guard and froze. It was the worst possible reaction. She stomped to her desk and scribbled frantically.

"Jason, please escort Brin to the office."

The linebacker slid out of his chair as I gathered my things. My eye caught a flash of red as she handed Jason a piece of paper. Ugh, it was the dreaded red reprimand slip. Sadly, I was very familiar with them. I followed Jason down the hall and pondered my situation. For once I wasn't trying to be disruptive, yet here I was.

Jason paused at the office door. "Man, you can't get out of your own way. You riding the bus today?"

"Yes, I am," I replied as I patted my pocket.

Jason grinned. "Cool, I hear Sara's going."

I couldn't stop my smile as I stepped into the office and took a seat. While I waited my eyes swept over the room. Two secretaries sat at chic, new desks frowning at large, flat-panel monitors. Over the past two years everything in the office had been replaced with something new. My feet sank into plush, immaculate carpet as I waited. The modern, frosted glass door swung open.

"Mr. Wren, in my office now," barked Ms. Patrick. We settled into our usual positions, with her behind her elegant wood desk and me, in no man's land on the other side, in a small chair that wanted to tip precariously to the left. She tapped a pen against her full bottom lip.

"So, you called Ms. Watanabe a bitch. That's a new one for you."

"I didn't. It's just a misunderstanding," I replied and tried to keep any whining tone out of my voice. She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. My mouth stayed shut. I'd learned that sometimes, being quiet was my best defense.

"I understand you have a ticket for the prep bus."

A bad feeling grew at the back of my throat. "Yes," I croaked. The prep bus was the last cool extracurricular activity the school sponsored. All others had been eliminated by budget cuts or liability concerns. It was a ride on a school bus filled with my classmates to watch our football team play our most-hated rival.

Every student looked forward to it each year. So many kids wanted to go that the school instituted a lottery to distribute the limited amount of seats. I'd won mine on the second-to-last draw. The ticket had sat on my desk at home under a protective piece of glass. I hadn't dared touch it until today. Ms. Patrick pressed her intercom.

"Lori, who's first on the alternate list for the prep bus?" She never broke eye contact with me.

"Shawn Dunston," Lori replied.

"Please contact him and let him know a seat has opened up and he will be participating." She released the intercom and stared at me. I felt my cheeks heat up. She stood and slipped out of the office. I stewed in my own frustration.

"You can't take my ticket! I've been looking forward to this for weeks," I sputtered when Ms. Patrick reentered the office.

"Brin, you will spend the rest of today with me. Then, for the next two weeks you will have detention. I've spoken with Ms. Watanabe and she has graciously volunteered to oversee it. You will complete any extra work she assigns you. If you complete your detention without incident, I might see a way to avoid mentioning your use of that rather unsavory word in your file."

"But the bus," I whined.

She fixed me with a level look. "Mr. Wren, I find the best lessons are often best learned when a measure of discomfort is involved. Please gather your things and return here."

I sat in the lobby of the office with my book bag at my feet. Shawn arrived and showered the secretary with thanks as he picked up his ticket. He noticed me as he started to leave.

"You going, Brin?" He asked. I shook my head. "Wait, am I getting your ticket?" I gritted my teeth. Not only had I lost my seat, but my biggest rival would be replacing me.

"Yeah, you got my ticket."

A wolfish grin spread across his face. He had way too many perfectly white teeth in his mouth. "I'll say hello to Sara for you," he said as he slipped out the door. That bad feeling slid down my throat and settled heavily in my stomach. I was called into Ms. Patrick's office a short time later and I swear one of the secretaries smirked at me when I passed.

As the scheduled departure time of the bus approached I sat glumly in the immaculately organized office that smelled lightly of lavender. Each tick of the clock felt like a hammer blow driving a nail into my soul. The cheers of students and the sounds of the band penetrated the office walls.

It felt like my heart stopped and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I swear I heard an amused snort from Ms. Patrick as she tucked her hair behind her right ear. Forty-five minutes after the bus departed my sulking was interrupted by a crisp command.

"You may go, Mr. Wren. Remember, your detention time starts on Monday."

I gathered my things and thankfully had the presence of mind to grumble after I was outside the building. My two weeks of detention ground by at an insanely slow space. Ms. Watanabe had an assignment for me each day that was due at the end of our time. I wasn't allowed to read or work on my other assignments.

Every few days Ms. Patrick dropped by and the two would chat while giving me amused smiles. I kept my frustration under control. The last thing I needed was to make matters worse. When I left the building on my final Friday of detention it felt like a shadow had lifted off of me. Early Saturday morning my phone rang. With bleary eyes, I answered.

"Hey Brin, Marie called in sick. Could you come in?" asked Mike. He was my boss and a decent guy.

"Sure, be there as soon as I can," I replied. It wasn't how I wanted to spend my first Saturday out from underneath my detention, but the chance at extra money was hard to pass up. After a quick shower and a frantically consumed breakfast, I arrived at work. With a list of rooms in my hand, I grabbed the cleaning cart and got to work. Mike's motel was older, but he worked hard to keep the place neat and in good repair.

The first four rooms were easy to clean and I was ahead of schedule. When I opened room 14 I noticed a purse on a chair by the door and two black duffel bags on the floor. I shrugged it off. People left items behind all the time. I cleaned the bathroom and then moved further into the main room. There was a small shiny object on the carpet.

When I got closer I realized it was a small key. I heard a muffled sound and my head snapped up. To my astonishment there was a woman on the floor by the bed. She was face-down with her hands cuffed behind her back. Bed sheets were wrapped around her lower body. From what I could see, she appeared to be naked as a jaybird. She must have gotten tangled up while trying to crawl to the key. I crouched down in front of her, brushed shiny, auburn hair away from her face, and looked into a familiar pair of green eyes.

"Hello, Ms. Patrick."

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. Panicked sounds came from behind the red ball that filled her mouth. As I untangled her from the sheets I noticed a black leather band with a metal ring was buckled slightly above each ankle. The rings were connected with a double-headed clip. After it sunk in that my principal was bound and helpless at my feet I set about a closer examination.

Her skin was smooth and soft with a slight smattering of freckles here and there. Ms. Patrick was very fit. In fact, her muscle tone made me a little self-conscious. She had an hour glass figure; I found myself admiring her hips. They struck me as very womanly as they flared nicely from her waist and ended with a pert backside. I gave it a slight smack with the palm of my hand. This drew an indignant grunt from her. For the past two years she had been a constant source of frustration and anger to me. It hadn't occurred to me to consider her as a woman. I grabbed the key from the floor and slipped it into my pocket.

"Don't go anywhere," I said over my shoulder as I stepped outside. I asked Mike not to book the room for a bit. He gave a concerned look, but I explained nothing was wrong and that I simply needed more time with it. I dug around in my car until I found my camera. I chuckled at the coincidence. The only reason my camera was there was due to an assignment from Mrs. Markham the previous week. I pulled out my phone and thumbed in a number.

"Hey Mark, it's Brin. Could you grab your kit and swing by Mike's motel? I promise it'll be worth your while."

I pushed the cart in front of the next room and returned to 14. Inside the door I paused as my eyes fell on the duffel bags. It seemed a good idea to check them out. They contained soft ropes in different colors, darkly colored metal bars, and other items I didn't recognize. I fished the driver's license out of the purse and propped it up next to Ms. Patrick's face. It took some tinkering to ensure that her worried face and the name on her license were both clearly visible. Then I snapped a wide variety of pictures from different angles. I plopped down next to her, turned my camera around, and showed her several pictures on the display.

"The camera likes you Ms. Patrick," I said. She frowned and gave a derisive grunt. The concern on her face was quickly becoming apprehension. A soft knock at the door drew me away. Mark eased into the room with a large case in each hand.

"So, what's up? It's early man," he groused. Then his eyes locked onto Ms. Patrick. "Oh, that's awesome. You need to call me more often." We took a few moments to discuss what I had in mind. Mark listened, nodded, and interjected with advice.

"Now Mark, she may struggle a bit, but don't worry she's into that sort of thing," I said and locked eyes with Ms. Patrick. Mark pulled out a marker pen and tapped a line of dots up the lobe of her ear.

"A couple extra ear rings would fit her," he said. The marker left blackish-green dots over her right eyebrow and in the curve of her left nostril. "We could do her tongue. Guys rave about it. I've even had women come in to get it done for that reason." I gave Ms. Patrick a smile. She was looking a little pale and sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. "Oh, how about a Monroe?" Mark asked. "We could do it here, here, or here." Three dots appeared in different places across her top lip. I smiled inwardly. It was indelible ink and Ms. Patrick was going to have to cover up these dots with makeup until they faded away on their own accord.

Mark's eyes drifted down her body. He rolled her right nipple between two fingers. "Man, we gotta do these. Rings would look fantastic. I've got a bunch of styles you can choose from." Ms. Patrick started to squirm, so I placed a steadying hand on her upper chest. Mark made a set of dots on each side of her nipples. His fingers traced down over her stomach. "She's in nice shape. She in her thirties?" I nodded. He tapped out marks around her navel. "Some jewelry here would make her look younger. A nice bright crystal would complement her coloring."

His fingers traced down below her navel. "I don't know enough about doing anything down here. I can refer you to a friend, though. She's good and knows her stuff. Pretty creative too."

"Thanks, I'll think about it. Let's do what I talked about," I said. Mark busied himself with preparing his equipment. I moved to Ms. Patrick's head, tilted it to the left, and brushed her hair away from her ear. "Hold still," I whispered into her ear.

Mark moved quickly and efficiently. Within a few moments Ms. Patrick had a nickel-colored bar through the upper portion of her ear. The natural curve of her ear hid most of the bar, but two shiny bulbs marked the anchor points. I smiled. With her habit of tucking her hair behind her ear, she'd be flashing her new decoration quite frequently. "If you want today to remain between us, that will stay where it is," I whispered into her ear.

I walked Mark to the door, pulled some money from the purse, and handed it to Mark. "Will that cover it?" I asked.

"Yup. Thanks man. Feel free to call me anytime," Mark said as she slipped out the door.

I dug around in the duffels until I found the items I wanted. After some adjusting of my camera's flexible tripod, I set it on the carpet and aimed it at my bound principal. With a quick flick of my fingers the timer was set. My father had talked me into this camera over a cheaper one and man, I owed him big time.

With nervous, shaky fingers I strapped the shackles onto her wrists and clipped them together. Then I pulled the key from my pocket and undid the cuffs. With gentle pressure I pulled Ms. Patrick into a sitting position. Carefully, I unclipped her wrists, pulled them forward, and clipped them to her ankle cuffs. She struggled a bit when her wrists became free, but I was able to maintain control.

I rolled Ms. Patrick over so she was face down in the carpet. The binding between her ankles was undone and her knees pushed apart. With a nervous gleam in her eye she watched over her shoulder as I undressed. Her eyes widened when I pulled down my underwear. "Don't worry, Ms. P. I'm legal," I said and gave her backside a little slap. With one hand firmly on her ass I rubbed myself through her slit. I almost laughed when I found she was wet. I lined myself up and pushed. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and she gave a low moan. The timer on my camera ticked and snapped a picture. I shook my head in disbelief at the perfect timing.

I gave her a couple heartbeats to adjust and then resumed my advance. With both hands firmly gripping her hips I slid home and paused to savor the moment. I was balls-deep in my nemesis of the past two years. It was the best feeling of my life. I'd tried some of the recreational drugs Mark had scored, but this was better than all of them by far. I gave an extra little thrust of my hips. This drew a grunt out of Ms. Patrick, which I took as a good sign.

After I was done savoring the moment I started moving my hips. In a short time I'd established an enjoyable rhythm. With my right hand I took a firm grip in her hair and pulled her head up. "Smile for the camera, Ms. Patrick." She shuddered and clamped down on me. I smiled and shook my head. Bumping into her on Monday was going to be fun. After a few minutes I decided it was time to end it. If I tarried too long I might draw Mike's attention. I took a firm grip on her hips, pushed in deep, and climaxed.

I slumped to the floor. It took me a few moments to catch my breath. Once my heart stopped pounding and my breathing returned to normal I went to the duffels and pulled out a rather sinister-looking item. Ms. Patrick's eyes widened and her nostrils flared as I tapped the business end against my left palm.

"My dear Ms. Patrick, you've been very sloppy. It was careless to allow yourself to get caught like this. To serve as a reminder to be more careful in the future, I'm going to paddle your ass. I find the best lessons are accompanied by discomfort."