Chapter 6

Sarah could barely focus in class the next day. Her eyes stayed locked on Ms. Pembroke, watching her every move, searching for any sign of the “Whitecrow” she had been messaging last night. The mother figure she craved. Was she now ignoring her? Had she freaked her out by being too forward, too desperate?

She didn’t mean to come on too strong—she was just scared. Ms. Pembroke was the only person she could trust, the only one who could save her. She couldn’t wait. As soon as class was over, she would speak to her. She had to.

Ms. Pembroke tried not to think about the cute young brunette at the back of the class. Instead she moved through the classroom smiling and inviting questions about the poetry of Shakespeare, the fabric of her black pants clinging to the curves of her hips and thighs. Sarah couldn’t help but notice the faint outline of a thong beneath them, the way it subtly revealed itself at the top of her buttocks. She also stared at the delicate lace of her bra visible through the thin material of her white blouse. She felt awkward for noticing, guilty even, but she couldn’t look away. Ms. Pembroke was at that moment everything she wanted to be, and everything she wanted to be with.

The bell rang, and Ms Pembroke wondered what would happen. She knew what she should do, but also what she should do, if she wanted to make her fantasies come true. She also realised this could be the part where she made a first step on a path which would send her to prison for a long time.

Sarah loitered behind the other girls, carrying her books, when she suddenly dropped her papers. She sighed, turning around and bending down to pick them up.

Ms. Pembroke barely noticed at first, her warm smile still directed at another student. But then, as her gaze shifted, she found herself pausing. Sarah—normally so reserved and self-conscious—was bending over right in front of her, and for a moment, it was as if time had stopped.

Sarah’s skirt, which her teacher had always thought of as modest, suddenly appeared much shorter than she remembered. As she bent down, the fabric shifted, rising inch by inch, exposing more of the backs of her thighs. With each movement, the hemline crept higher, tracing the gentle curve where her thighs met the swell of her hips.

Then, as she stretched further, the skirt lifted higher still, unveiling the soft slope leading to the faint crease where her thighs merged into the curve of her buttocks. Between the light brown of her flesh and the navy blue of her plaid skirt, a flash of white panties appeared between her legs.

‘The cheeky little bitch” Ms Pembroke thought to herself, biting her lip, and feeling a tingling sensation between her legs. ‘She is begging me to do it.’ She did not want to attract attention by calling Sarah, instead, she looked at her, and raised her eyebrow. Sarah looked back, blushed and looked to check the other girls had left the room. She didn’t want to draw attention by calling Sarah’s name. Instead, she caught her eye and raised an eyebrow.

Sarah hesitated for a moment before glancing around, checking that the other girls had already left the room. A faint blush warmed her cheeks as she turned back.