Sullenly Rebecca slumped in her chair, glaring at Mr. Jones. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and she was stuck in this classroom, writing a stupid essay on 'Midsummer Night's Dream'. Just 'cause she was failing, like that was anything new. Supposedly this essay would bring her grade up enough that she could graduate this year.
Sighing, Mr. Jones and looked up from his book and into Rebecca's accusing eyes. It had not escaped his attention that Rebecca was angry with him. He didn't really care. She was a perfectly bright student, the only reason she was repeating her senior year was her attitude. Frowning, his eyes returned to his book, but didn't really see it.
Although quite beautiful, Rebecca was, as usual, wearing too much makeup. She'd plaited her thick black hair into twin braids, each running down the side of her face. As usual she wore faded, worn out jeans, and a tight t-shirt. All in all, her clothing left little to the imagination. Mr. Jones frowned even harder and shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he remembered how her breasts had pushed against her shirt, stretching the cloth obscenely. He wondered if she even owned a bra.
He looked back up as she sighed even louder. Her arms were still crossed sullenly, a blank piece of paper stared angrily from the desk.
"Rebecca," he sighed, looking at his watch, "You have an hour to finish that, or we'll be here again next Saturday. I have all the time in the world."
Rebecca glared even harder. "Yeah, kiss my ass," she muttered under her breath.
Mr. Jones eyes narrowed, and a flush rose to his face as he stood up. "Excuse me?" he said quietly.
"I said . . . " Rebecca said slowly and loudly, spacing her words evenly, "to kiss my lily white ass!"
His lips angrily narrowed, Mr. Jones stalked down the aisle to where Rebecca was sitting. Startled, Rebecca stared up at him, her lips parted in surprise as he roughly pulled her to her feet. "What the hell . . . "she blustered.
"I've had it with your mouth, little girl, and I've had it with your attitude." Mr. Jones growled angrily. "It's about time someone taught you some respect."
Rebecca stumbled as he pulled her behind him up to his desk, his fingers digging into her arm. "I'll get you fired for this!" she shouted angrily.
Mr. Jones paused, then straightened his broad shoulder, grey eyes glinting behind his glasses. "Then I guess I'd better make it worth my time."
Rebecca paled as her threat failed to scare him. Before she knew it her right arm was twisted behind her, and he had her bent over the hard surface. With hard tugs he began to pull her pants from her. Frantically, she twisted and tried to get away when she felt the tug on her jeans. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled, but he ignored her, pulling her jeans down to her knees.
