I pull into my usual parking space at the high school where I work. It's a small school in comparison to others in this part of the state, but this is a small town with a decreasing population since the mill closed. I hate being reminded of the mill, since that was one of the primary causes for my divorce. My ex and I married when I was 21. This would be our twentieth anniversary had he not walked out four years ago. The depression and alcohol abuse since his layoff had finally gotten the better of him and he ended up leaving me for another woman who talked him into moving out of state to start again.
I instinctively grab my ID, even though the school is closed. I'm just stopping in to drop off a few things in preparation for the new school year to begin. I look at the ID, seeing the name Verna Jordan on it. I never bothered to change it back to my maiden name after my divorce became final. Partly because I wanted my daughter to have the same last name as me. Now that she has started her freshman year of college I wonder if I will consider changing it back. After all, she will eventually get married and no doubt change her name as well.
I exit my car and head into the school. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the glass door. I'm wearing a blue, lightweight sarong skirt that reaches mid-calf. I almost never wear short skirts, partly due to my catholic upbringing. My white button-up blouse is a little tighter than I would wear to work. It hugs my 36-B breast. My dark brown hair hangs almost to my shoulders, framing my roundish face and my large glasses. I look pretty good for my age. Sure, I'm not what I was in my mid-twenties, but I definitely don't look 41. I did gain some weight right before my divorce, but I lost almost all of it afterwards.
I reach for the door and realize that it isn't locked. "Strange." I comment as I walk inside. I cautiously make my way down the hall. Hearing voices I realize that someone is inside one of the rooms. I open the door and step inside, startling five young men who are sitting around one of the tables. Empty beer bottles line the table and the smell of marijuana permeates the room. I recognize three of them as former students, although the other two look familiar.
"What are you doing in here?" I yell as I approach the table.
"Jesus, Miss V, we're just partying." One of them says. He is a tall, slender kid with short brown hair. I remember his name is Ricky. He graduated last spring.
"I'm calling the police." I inform them, reaching for my phone.
"Please don't do that." One of the others says. I can't recall his name, but I have seen him before.
A rough looking guy with longer brown hair and a mustache stands up. "We didn't cause any damage or take nuthin', just having a little fun. But if you call the cops then I'm fucked. I'm 21. These four are 18 and 19, but that's still illegal for drinkin', so I'll be busted for sure."
I recognize him as Carol Johnson. He was always getting in trouble when he was a student a few years ago. The other guy I recognize is Tommy Simms. A skinny redhead who was always awkward in class. I sensed that he had a crush on me when he was in my class during his sophomore year.
The last kid I couldn't place. A chubby guy with very short brown hair, but very hairy arms. I look for him and don't see where he went. Then I cry out with a start as someone--obviously the chubby guy--grabs be from behind. "You ain't calling no one lady."
"Let me go!" I demand. I struggle but can't break free from his grip.
"How about we make her drink some beer with us and take a few pictures. That way we can say she bought the beer and was partying with us" Carol suggested.
"Great idea." Ricky agreed. He grabbed a bottle and stepped forward pressing it to my lips. "Hold her tight, Lonny." He tells the chubby kid.
I refuse to open my mouth, so he grabs the back of my head with his left hand and presses the mouth of the bottle between my lips and begins pouring it into my mouth. Most of it spills out onto my blouse, but I am forced to swallow some of it. Ricky continues forcing the contents into my mouth until the bottle is empty.
"I suppose you think that's going to get me drunk." I spat when he removed the bottle.
"All we need to do is make it appear you're drinking with us." Carol said in reply.
Ricky lowers his eyes as he stood before me. At first I think he is feeling guilt, then he shocks me by dropping the bottle and raising both hands to my chest and begins to fondle my breast. "You have some nice tits, Miss V."
"Get your hands off me!" I scream in protest. I renew my efforts to break free of Lonny's grip as I feel Ricky's hands squeezing my tits.
"That gives me a better idea," Carol says, ""Tie her to the table."
Four of the guys hoist me up and drop me on my back across the narrow side of one of the classroom tables. I kick and scream as they hold me down, all while tying my hands and feet in place with cords and zip ties, mostly from my own supplies that I had carried in. When they are through, my legs are spread apart and tied down to the legs on one side, and my arms are stretched behind me down the other side. My head is hanging off one end and my butt is barely on the other.
"Let me go, damn it!" I yell.
Carol leans over from between my legs and says, "We get to fuck a hot MILF tonight and if you say anything we'll just say you've been bringing us here to party and have sex all summer. With all the female teachers getting caught fucking students it will be hard for you to prove otherwise."
He begins unbuttoning my blouse, I scream for him to stop, but soon he has my top completely undone and spread apart. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folding knife, he opens it and slides the blade beneath the center of my bra. I cry out as he saws it back and forth until he cuts my bra apart, exposing my tits to them all.
Next he pulls my skirt up around my waist. The material apparently keeps falling over my panties, so he uses his knife to cut it away and then does the same to my panties. I am humiliated as these five young men see me naked and exposed. Only two men have seen me naked since my husband had left me, and before my husband, only one other guy from high school had seen me naked, except for medical exams of course.
