Chapter 6

What was going on was that Alice was getting her revenge on an arrogant man, the math teacher at her high school. She'd long had an adversarial relationship with him. He was a chauvinist and proud of it, advisor to the chess and math clubs, and a bigot for science who liked to bait her with questions about how you could pin down any worthwhile truth with a novel. She had sometimes let herself be dragged into battle with him, which she always won (so she thought, anyway), pointing out for instance that a novel stands forever as written while a science book goes out of date in a year or two. Which source of knowledge was more lasting? Then she'd hate herself for stooping to his level.

Even after she'd won, as far as she could tell, he would not admit defeat. In fact, he thought it was he who gave her the last word by his alleging that history had proved -- "irrefutably!" -- that females were inferior to males.

"If that weren't the case," he would contend, as if he were head of the debate club as well, "why did males dominate everything?" He noted that females had "complete control over all children during early childhood, the most impressionable period of life. If females as a gender had any sense, wouldn't they teach their children something other than to let males have preeminence in everything that counted?" Worst of all, he preached the same line of thinking to the impressionable young men who flocked to the math and chess clubs.

She couldn't deny that he was a handsome ass. He wore his hair in a flat top and made a point of keeping himself in shape. He was a sharp intellect, which she'd always found attractive. But he'd always attacked her and her discipline and her gender from day one, and she found him irritating more than anything else. Eventually it came to a climax, so to speak. He'd been teaching for ten years, so he knew the ropes around the school, and with enough rope, he managed to hang himself, at least as far as Alice was concerned.

Knowing the ropes meant knowing every crack and crevice in every one of the faculty offices. He had the office next door to hers, so the partition that served as a wall was all that separated them. Almost as soon as Alice was hired, he'd noticed and enhanced a thin crack in the hinge of the partition, just enough, using what he knew of optics, to open a line of sight on her chair and desk at about the level of her waist. At first he just watched to see her. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen "live and in person," and he was too tongue-tied with her to say anything real. Instead, he just jousted with her. But he secretly had a huge crush on her, which he interpreted as mere sexual attraction. He'd never been so attracted to anyone this way, and he didn't know what to do about it. So he didn't start out meaning to do anything wrong. How could he have imagined where it would lead?

For Alice, the situation was different. He was just an arrogant asshole who'd been peeping on her at work. Granted, she'd given him something to peep at, but she still had a right to her privacy in her office during her lunch hour. Not long after she began having Joey baby-sit for her, she found her imagination going wild. She couldn't stop thinking about his body, the way he was hard while he slept, the way he looked at her when she awakened him. She thought about it so much that she had to have some relief.

Thus, she'd gotten into the habit of masturbating in her office during her lunch hour. (That and a fifteen minute nap revived her completely for her afternoon classes.) She would remove her panties in the ladies room and then get comfortable in her chair. She enjoyed all the sensual potential of the moment, realizing that part of what turned her one was the fact that she was at work, that just on the other side of the door were her colleagues and students, that she could be caught doing something so wicked.

She began by posing, imagining she were being photographed for Playboy magazine. First she loosened her blouse, smiling at a poster of William Shakespeare on the partition as if it were the photographer. Flash. Then she leaned forward and gripped her bra. Flash. Undid the clasp in front and let the bra fall forward, casually displaying her right breast to the nipple, left breast nearly as much. Smile. Flash. She pulled her blouse completely open and stretched, yawning, fully exposing both her breasts. Smile. Flash. She leaned forward again and straightened left her stocking. Winked at the camera. Flash. Pulled up her skirt. Flash. Showed the tops of her stockings. Flash. Spread her legs. Flash. Leaned back, put one leg up on the desk, showed herself fully to the camera. Smile. Flash. Touched herself. Flash. Wet her finger in her mouth. Flash. Touched herself. Flash. Stretched her legs wide in the air. Flash. There was something about exposing herself more than necessary that turned her on. She blushed to think that someone might call her an exhibitionist. But it was only since that night with Joey. Since then, the thought of showing herself made her ache with desire.

Little did she realize that she was making Mr. Arnold Masters, the math teacher, ache as well. He was watching her through his crack in the partition. He was panting with desire. She was so damned hot, so beautiful. He'd been watching every day, and he still couldn't believe his luck. Of course he was masturbating, watching Alice and trying to time his orgasm to hers. He'd been doing it for the past few weeks, just as long as Alice had been. He'd actually given up watching her through the crack since it only frustrated him, but then he'd noticed Alice masturbating, largely because she was making much more noise than she realized as she neared her climax. He couldn't resist finding the source of the moans.

Alice wasn't the only person making noise. One day she heard a strange echo to her breathing. At first she'd taken it for just that, an echo, but now and then it appeared to get out of synch. Once she stopped breathing suddenly and clearly heard not only someone breathing but something thumping as well. She reddened immediately and pulled her skirt down. The thumping stopped, but the breathing grew more intense. Then she noticed a small crack beneath the bard's poster. To confirm her suspicions, she got up and walked to her neighbor's office. She knocked and waited. He finally appeared.

"Did you hear something?"

"No," he said, as demure as a school girl.

"I thought I heard something thumping."

His sudden deep red blush told her everything she needed to know. His stammering inability to say anything added further confirmation. From there it was an easy matter to trap him. First she reestablished her habit of masturbating, making sure that he was still joining in. On Friday, she brought along two props -- a squirt gun filled with purple water color and a camera. When lunch time came, she put the squirt gun right next to the crack and the camera near the door. Then she started her best show ever. She'd worn garter, black stockings, and a nearly transparent white teddy beneath her chaste looking white blouse and gray skirt. She kicked off her loafers and put on a pair of bright red four- inch heels.

She started the show by slowly posing as a chaste teacher. Then she began raising her skirt. First she allowed the voyeur to get a good look at her legs as she straightened and restraightened her stockings. Then she pulled her skirt up above the tops, where she carefully made sure they were well attached to the garter belt. Then she pulled it all the way up to reveal the nearly transparent white cloth of the teddy. She was already wet, which made the material even less an obstacle to the eye. She ran the middle fingers on her right hand along the notch of her sex, delighting in the smooth sexy feel of her lips, the fat slick lump of her clit. She pulled at the teddy, pulling it away from her cunt as if to give it air. She tugged it tighter, and one of the buttons gave way. She let her fingers stray beneath it for a quick wet stroke. Then she yanked it completely apart, lifting her leg and catching its heel on the seat, leaning into the chair, arching her back.

She could feel the lips of her sex opening, and she couldn't help the slow undulation of her hips that started as she began fingering herself in earnest, driving herself towards an orgasm. Actually, she only meant to drive herself towards a fake orgasm. She began moaning, began clinching her thighs, noticed that she really was going to come. She let it happen, letting herself make more noise than usual, but keeping herself ready through an enormous force of will. She stopped herself suddenly, dropped her skirt, squirted a healthy stream of purple water color through the crack, grabbed her camera, and went next door.

She caught the math teacher just as he was going off, so she began clicking away, flashing for real, catching a shot of his startled face with its purple eyes and the nearly purple head of his penis, gripped tightly in his jerking hand. Though Mr. Masters realized immediately what had happened at the first flash, he couldn't stop himself. He was in the grip of one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Alice was actually pleased at the performance, noting that the man had prepared by grabbing a tissue first, but noting also that he was overfilling it so that the sperm was dripping from his hand. When he finally finished, he fell to his knees and began begging Alice not to turn him in. She calmly rewound the film.

"This is the very first time I've ever done this, I swear. I've just been so, that is, I mean, you must understand the effect you have on us.

Men that is. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, any of us has ever seen, that is. Could you have resisted? Maybe you wouldn't watch me, I mean, you know, men are supposedly more visual and all that, but you might be tempted. Maybe by a student? Obviously something's turning you on. Excuse me for saying that. It was inappropriate. The whole thing was... that is, I... uh, look, I'm sorry. Please have mercy. I just couldn't resist. Please have pity on me."

Alice was stung by his reference to being tempted by a student. Did he know she was fantasizing about her neighbor, Joey? She gently removed the film from the canister and placed it into its small plastic case.

She looked down at the math teacher. He'd been so arrogant before, so confident. Now his juice was spilled, and he was completely submissive.

Alice couldn't resist the temptation to take advantage of the situation.

"I'll give you these pictures under one condition."

"Name it," the desperate math teacher begged.

"For one day you shall be my slave."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you will do absolutely everything I say for one day, Saturday, from sunrise to sunset. I have plenty of work I need to have done around my house, so you can show up at exactly sunrise. Agreed?"

"You leave me no choice in the matter."

"Remember that. And don't you dare be late."

She left him standing on his knees.

Again, she'd prepared well. She left her child with her mother for the weekend. Got the house cleaned. Got herself groomed -- she wanted to be make him so hot he would be in pain. Also, she wanted to make the punishment fit the crime, so she decided he'd be able to peep at her all day. He'd be able to see everything, but he wouldn't be able to touch. At least, not unless and until she ordered it.

When he arrived, exactly as the sun broke across the eastern hills, she was waiting, wearing frilly lace robe over a black transparent baby doll and panty set. On her feet, she wore a pair of high-heeled house slippers. Before he could say anything, she greeted him with a friendly kiss to throw him off guard and led him through the house back to her bedroom.

She explained that she only wanted to give him a fair punishment for his crime.

"Crime?"

"Peeping. You're a Peeping Tom. A peeper. So for your punishment, you will finish several regular household chores. That's all."

She went on to explain that for this day he must acknowledge what had always been the truth, that she was his Superior. Absolutely. He was to address her with those exact words, as his Superior.

"Say them," she demanded.

He was confused.

"You don't understand, do you? I just told you, I am your Superior. Do you understand that?" She untied her robe.

He nodded.

"Good. Now address me appropriately."

"My Superior."

"You shall be Tommy. Peeping Tommy. Do you understand?" She opened her robe and pulled it partially back, exposing her breasts through the sheer lingerie. She saw his eyes go to her chest.

"Yes, My Superior," he said, suddenly thinking that this whole thing might not be punishing after all. He was already becoming hard.

She continued detailing the rules. He would do everything he was told to do. He would not speak without being requested to speak. He would not touch himself at all unless she instructed him to do so. He would not touch her unless she asked him to touch her. As long as he continued working, he could watch anything he liked.

She opened her robe completely and dropped it to the floor. Instinctively, he bent down to retrieve it.

"In the closet. And remove your clothing."

"But."

"Are you going to obey the rules, or do I show the PTA the pictures?"

He had no answer.

"Now, Peeping Tommy would be wise to remove his clothing," she said, as if speaking to a baby.

He could see she was not joking. After hanging up the robe, he began undressing, quickly at first, then stopping when he reached his underwear.

"I've already seen twelve pictures of it," she said.

Still, he hesitated, and she could see why. He was strongly aroused, hard as a rock beneath the white cotton jockeys. She could clearly see the outline of it, the lip around the head, the wet cotton spot near the tip. She was surprised to notice how the sight of it aroused her. She was intoxicated by the power she had over him.

"Move it!" He pulled them off, standing before her with his penis waving in front of him.

"Now, undress me, but do not touch me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Superior."

He cautiously picked up the hem of her baby doll. She put her hands above her head, and he pulled it up and off. She left her hands in the air, flashing her breasts at him. How weak he was! She knew he'd do anything just for a chance to touch her breasts.

"Put it on the bed," she said, happy to see him jump to comply. Returning, he bent down and carefully touched the tiny strip of elastic that held her panties up. He slipped his fingers beneath and got a grip, slowly easing them down. She leaned forward and let her right nipple graze his head. He continued removing the panties and stood, the head of his prick taut and purple with his arousal. He picked up the baby doll and turned to her with a question in his eyes.

"Put it on."

His hands were actually shaking as he pulled the panties up. His hard cock would not fit inside, but she told him it was all right, that he could expose himself if he couldn't keep his arousal under control. She noted that she'd have expected more of a superior being. She felt like laughing. He was so serious. She was finding how deliciously exciting it was to dominate a man, to tease him, to make his balls ache with the fullness of desire and then to refuse him any relief until and unless she decides he should have it. Then to prescribe the method.

"Now you will bath me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Superior," he answered, his voice hoarse.

"Draw my bath. Place those bath oil beads there in it. I like the water hot." She handed him a glove of terry cloth. "You can wash me using this. Do not attempt to touch my sex. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Superior."

The bath was delectable. She had him thoroughly soap the cloth and then slowly wash her feet, work his way up her legs. She stood for him to wash her thighs and ass.

"I want my anus clean, but do not touch my sex."

She could hardly stifle her urge to giggle. He soaped her ass, grabbing it. She knew what he was doing, but she didn't mind it. She felt so good. She bent forward to give him access to her anus, spreading her cheeks, knowing he had to be watching the moist lips of her dripping sex. She rotated her bottom lewdly. He let his the soapy cloth cover one of his fingers, and this he slipped along the crack of her ass, finally stopping to clean the rosebud, slowly circling the digit around its edge, not quite inserting it, cleaning it thoroughly.

She turned around and had him clean her belly button and her hands and her arms. She put her hands behind her back and thrust her chest forwards.

"Clean these with your bare hands, if you don't mind."

"Yes, My Superior, yes!"

He soaped his hands and carefully squeezed and wiped and held and pinched at her breasts and her nipples. She felt so vulnerable and so turned on. He pinched at her teats but couldn't keep his grip with the slick soap covering them. It felt so nice that her knees trembled, and she felt the tingle, the melting flow of her cunt as he pulled on her nipples. She touched herself and closed her eyes. She could make herself come so easily, but she stopped.

"Now I need a shampoo," she said, pushing his hands away. She sat back down in the tub, had him wet her hair with the shower's flexible, hand- held nozzle, and let him lather her scalp. She made him continue massage her head, which she found surprisingly arousing, for a full half hour. Finally, she rinsed herself off and stood.