Chapter 17: Freedom

Chantelle was irritated with me. I’d been petulant over her attitude towards me working with her but had never said anything. Now I was also less amorous with her than I’d been for years. She was beginning to notice. She asked me repeatedly in recent weeks if everything was ok. I think she was actually worried.

I hadn’t really noticed the change, thinking I had kept it under control. Chantelle had noticed however. I tried dismissing her concerns nonchalantly at first. When I realised she was stressed about it, I suddenly felt even more guilt. That’s when I leveled with her. About the working with her slight at least.

“I want you to want to work with me.” I pouted. I think she was relieved to hear it was something so minor. As soon as I told her she laughed really hard. “When did I say I didn’t?” She asked perplexed. When I told her she laughed again and wrapped me in a tight hug.

“Oh my god, my poor baby.” She said then kissed me. “I just didn’t want you to get upset if you didn’t get the job.” She kissed me again. “Of course I want to work with you.” It made me happier than I’d been in days to hear it. I was also a little relieved. It had probably been projection of my own guilt but in some bleak moments I’d fretted that she may have met someone.

After dinner we lay together on the couch. I lay kissing her shoulder when I started to want her. It was a relief since my libido hadn’t been surfacing a lot recently. I suspected the guilt was eating at me.

Soon I rolled off the couch and pulled her sweats and panties down. She had an expression of surprise when I lowered my mouth to her clit. I longed to hear her coming for me, it had been days. I knelt licking and sucking at her until I was satisfied.

I was excessively attentive to Chantelle that weekend, extracting many howls of pleasure from her. It was probably quite suspicious but my guilt drove me. I think I was also probably too clingy.

Chantelle was my sanctuary from the world. In particular from my self inflicted stress. Without her it was entirely possible I could have lost my way. The situation with both Jon and Gideon was becoming more intolerable the longer it continued.

The frustrating part was that the act itself was enjoyable. In fact with Gideon I liked it. Yet being compelled to act as Jon’s sex toy made it all unpleasant and stressful, no matter how good it felt.

I could almost have kissed the girl who finally solved it for me. Of course that would ironically have caused a new problem.

At the end of the year many of my classes were mere study sessions for exams. Some like this particular class were fully completed.

The assessment for this class was largely for internal coursework plus several tests that were not part of the final exams. The only people needing to study for the class now were those few doing make-up tests.

As such the class was essentially a free period. Since they were not allowed to simply roam about they were allowed to have free time in during the normal class hours in my classroom. As luck would have it three girls who appeared to be highly promiscuous were chatting about boys and their exploits while ignoring my existence five paces away.

Ordinarily I wouldn’t have cared but it had become habit for my ears to prick up every time I heard Gideon’s name, and more recently Jon’s. At the mention of Gideon I quietly listened in. “It’s like he’s broken.” One girl was saying. “Do you think he’s impotent?” Asked another. “Maybe he caught an STD.” Offered the third.

“Eeew! Yeah, that’s actually possible.” Replied the second. “I heard that Aaron gave Isabelle something and her mother found out she went to the doctor for it.” She explained. “You don’t think that somethings going around do you?” Asked the first with concern in her voice.

“Who know’s.” Answered the third. “Either way I’m not fucking a boy from here again.” She insisted emphatically. “Unless he’s wearing two condoms maybe.” She said in a lower tone of voice. All three girls burst out giggling. “Or if it’s Gideon.” The first suggested. There were murmurs of agreement all round, and there it was, my redemption.

At last I knew what to do, and it was so very simple. First would come some research. I was embarrassed to realise that even then I almost certainly knew as little or less about the topic than these disturbingly worldly girls.

It didn’t take me too long to narrow down a shortlist of options. However it was thoroughly irritating to see how poorly the information was compiled and communicated. Had I been less aware of what I was looking for I could easily have floundered among an ocean of drivel before finding what I sought.

What I needed was something that would be harrowing enough to make a strong impact. Something that would taint the well permanently, as it were. At last I found my candidate. I collected some brochures for props and began to rehearse.

I versed myself in the science well enough that I could create a smokescreen of confusion. All I needed was plausibility enough to cause fear and apprehension. The second part was discovering a devious little trick that can work fairly consistently. This was where I was taking a gamble.

My plan required me to initially sow a seed in their minds. I reasoned that it should take several days and I’d need to practice my sleight of hand. The second part might not even prove necessary if I could be convincing enough. When I was feeling confident I readied myself and bought some condoms, the following day I would begin.