This story was inspired by a Japanese movie of the same name, starring Emi Harukaze. However, the dialogue and scenes in this story are quite different from the movie (I didn't actually understand the dialogue). Please note that the story involves blackmail (along with mature; May-December relationship). It is within the reluctance and submission section because that is its primary theme. If stories involving blackmail, reluctance, and submission are not enjoyable for you and certainly if you find them offensive, then you really, really should not be reading this story! All of the characters in this story are at least eighteen years old.
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Ms. Crump was a rather stern and imposing teacher. One did not misbehave in her class. There was never any whispering. There was never any passing of notes. Students always arrived on time, if not a good five to ten minutes early. One always paid close attention, never got caught being distracted, which wasn't that easy as her lectures on Victorian literature could be so long and tedious. The students so much preferred Miss Bixley, but her classes this semester were all full (see "Miss Bixley lends a hand").
The guys, and even many of the girls, could see why she was still single. Who would want to marry her? Would could stand her? She was so cold, so harsh, so grim and austere.
This was a shame as she was not an unattractive woman, not by any means. She was in fact very appealing, if not pretty. She had long, wavy, flowing black hair that hung well down over her breasts, providing a nice accent to their prominence, as her hair fell gracefully across her curves, outlining her breasts' fullness and roundness. She also had large and pretty round blue eyes, although they often looked rather cold and unforgiving beneath her spectacles. Her cheeks were rosy, her nose was perky (although perhaps a bit sharp), and her lips were always adorned by a bright and rich red lipstick, although students would claim that they had never seen Ms. Crump smile.
In sum, Ms. Crump could really be quite an attractive woman if she allowed herself to be, but all of this potential was frustrated in part by her demeanor, as well as the conservative nature of her dress. She wasn't into pretty skirts, pastel colors, or feminine delicacies. Her outfits matched her personality. She wore stark grey or black business suits, with skirts that went well below her knees, blouses buttoned all the way to her neck, themselves largely hidden beneath jackets that were usually fully buttoned as well.
It wasn't that other teachers of Templeton College let their students see their boobs. That would, of course, be inappropriate, if not absurd. But they would at least wear outfits that flattered their womanly curves. What woman wouldn't? Well, Ms. Crump was such a woman, and it was again quite a shame, for beneath her tight business jackets one could discern the presence of very prominent, full breasts.
Yet, her conservative suits could not hide her appeal entirely, as the skirts, jackets, and blouses were typically rather tight.
It was a body that was actually difficult to ignore. She had such a nice taut, tight, jutting, swaying bottom, the curves of which were facilitated by her long black high heels, which also provided nice lines and tone to her calves and her long shapely legs. The boys' eyes invariably followed the sway of her bottom as she slowly made her way down an aisle of desks, reading from a text. This was the manner in which she most often lectured, striding up and down the aisles, reading a dull, tedious scholastic tome. One consolation of this approach was that it did allow the eyes of the boys to follow her swaying bottom as she strolled away. Of course, such impolite behavior on the part of the boys risked her considerable wrath if caught by the "Dragon Lady," one of the many less than complimentary nom de plumes she had been given by her students.
One of her most distinctive habits was to carry a ruler. She would absentmindedly tap it with her right hand into the palm of her left when she was not reading from a text as she strode up and down the aisle of desks, droning away, monitoring the notes being taken, looking for signs of student inattention, distraction, or any other signs of remiss. Once found it would be met with a tap of the ruler on a shoulder, a piercing glare, a pursing of lips, and a shake of the head.
Ms. Crump would angrily chastise particularly egregious infractions, accompanied by a sharp slap with the ruler on the hand or wrist. Some students even had to take the walk of shame to the front of the room to stand in the corner, facing the wall.
Yes, it was treating college students as if they were still in elementary school. All of the students were above the age of eighteen, most were in fact nineteen or even twenty years old. But, Ms. Crump would say that if they are still behaving like children then they should be treated as such.
She had sent a student to the corner of the room only a couple of times this semester, but one such time it had been William (Billy) Miller. He had found it terribly, terribly embarrassing, and it was only because he happened to be drawing cartoon doodles in the margins of his notebook. His notes were otherwise fine, so what was the harm? Well, actually, they weren't just ordinary doodles. One of them was in fact a sketch of Ms. Crump, with her blouse open and she was apparently not wearing a brassiere. Her humongous boobs were spilling out. Other than giving her approximately 88DDD boobs it was a pretty good resemblance, particularly for such a small sketch, but William's artistic talent didn't seem to impress his teacher.
He felt that such a punishment was not at all appropriate for a young man his age and he considered speaking to the ombudsman about it. However, Templeton was a very conservative private college and he was unlikely to receive much sympathy. This was not a public university that was beholden to state legislative guidelines regarding pedagogy and student discipline. William, and his parents, had been made fully aware of the rules and responsibilities of an undergraduate, as well as the strict disciplinary powers of the professors. It was in fact this authoritative traditionalism that had attracted Willam's parents to Templeton.
Templeton even had a dress code! The girls had to wear white blouses with black ties, plaid skirts that had to go below the knee, white socks, black Mary Janes, and, of course, white panties and bras (see "The Lessons, Chapter One, Mr. Peters teaches Sara a lesson"). The boys wore white shirts, black slacks, black shoes and now even white jockey briefs.
Well, at least he hadn't had to take any of Miss Harding's or Mr. Peters' courses. He heard that they even spanked their students, and on their bare bottoms no less! William couldn't imagine that really being true, but such were the rumors (see "Disciplining young gentleman"). Nevertheless, he so looked forward to this particular class ending and getting out from under the dictatorial thumb, and ruler, of Ms. Crump.
He did though, at times, feel sorry for his teacher. He knew that some day he would graduate from Templeton College and would lead a normal, happy, and fulfilled life, one shared with a lovely woman who loved him. Such a future was unlikely ever to materialize for Ms. Crump. There was no wedding ring on her hand, nor likely an engagement ring in the near future. She was apparently devoted to her career, which was the education of students, most of whom resented or even detested her. How could she possibly be happy about that? William would wonder if she had any life at all outside of the classroom.
He did though eventually get the chance to observe Ms. Crump in the real world, and it was a revelation indeed.
William worked at a small novelty store within a remote corner of the Templeton Mall. The store sold cheap magic tricks, weird candies (like absinthe and eggnog gumballs), 3-D and X-ray glasses, games, bacon soap, monkey oil paintings, horse head wall decorations, inflatable turkeys, a painting of a squirrel wearing underpants, cheesy costumes and masks, puzzles, pennants, backwards clocks, a Barbie Happy Meal toy, and on it went.
It was a very, very boring job. Customers were so rare, particularly during the week. It picked up at Christmas for stocking stuffing, and Halloween, for costumes and decorations. But outside of that it was terribly slow. He wondered how Mr. Weaver, the owner, was able to stay in business and pay his salary.
Working there was at times so dreary. Hours would literally go by without one customer. When one did finally arrive he would entertain himself by watching him or her every move on the monitor, as the store was well covered by cameras. Most of their products could easily fit into someone's pocket. However, even those brief moments of distraction were invariably boring, as watching someone become bored with their products was equally tiresome.
