Chapter 1

Lisa Hamilton paced the outside aisle between the last row of desks and the windows. She could see the schoolyard and the small park beyond, its trees and shrubs just beginning to bud with spring, and because of the slant of the afternoon sun, she was also able to see her image reflected in the glass.

She paused for a moment, the way a woman will when passing a mirror, and primped her long blonde hair with her fingers, inspecting herself abstractly in the window's reflection. Never, though, did she pause in her lecturing, the day's lesson on chemical reactions between basic oxides and acids flowing from her lips in a never-ending stream of words. Lisa Hamilton was known as a hard task-master by her high school students, even though to look at her, one would think she would be warm and tender and perhaps too soft on the freshmen who took her course.

In fact, there were some who couldn't understand how Lisa could stand being a teacher at all, when there were so many more exciting and pleasant things for somebody as beautiful and provocative as she. Most of these were men who had tried dating her at one time or another, and who had subsequently been firmly rebuffed in their amorous efforts. Lisa was thirty-one, of medium height and a little on the slender side, with full high-peaked breasts and firmly rounded thighs, long sculptured legs and a flat taut belly -- all of which were more in keeping with the budding figures of the girls in her classes, instead of a woman twice their age. Her face was a heart-shaped oval with a pert stubby nose and large Koala-bear eyes with bright ice-blue pupils. Her lips were naturally crimson and needed very little lipstick, and they habitually curved outwards and down in a mock, seductive pout. Her smooth skin was the ivory of a natural blonde, although during the summer months she took a tan readily and became a golden hue. Add to all that a melodious voice with a seductive, throaty purr, and it was no wonder that the vice-principal chewed his report cards with frustration!

At the moment, her class was either looking at her or their open books, and all of them were fidgeting. They wound their legs around the metal supports of the seats in front of them, sliding down farther and farther in their chairs and doodling aimlessly with their pens. Lisa Hamilton talked on, and she was only half-heard, the teenagers impatient to get outside in the lovely weather, their eyes rolling around the room like cattle in a small enclosure.

Finally the voluptuous blonde teacher made a complete circuit of her class and came once more to her desk. It was on a raised platform and was much larger than any of the others, and was cluttered with reports and bunsen burners and all the paraphernalia necessary to conduct experiments. When she stood behind her desk and stared out at them, the students all knew it was time to pay closer attention, as much as they wished not to, and there was the soft sibilant sound of cleared throats and shifting clothes, like the rustle of dry leaves across the ground.

"Bertram," she said, indicating a tow-headed boy. "Would you tell us all what happens when acids are added to bases?"

"Uh... salts are formed, Mrs. Hamilton."

"Very good. And what determines the number of salts which can be formed? Not you, Elmira, I can see you've done your homework! Sherry? Will you tell the class the answer?"

The girl in the third row, fourth seat blushed a violent red, and lowered her head. "It... it is determined by... by... by..."

"Don't you know, Sherry?"

"Yes, Ma'am... only I can't say it."

Lisa Hamilton made a mark in her grade book with an indelible pencil. "Then I'll say it for you, Sherry. A salt is formed by the replacement of the atom or atoms of hydrogen in the acid by the metallic atoms of the base. Thus acids which contain more than one atom of hydrogen can have more than one salt. How many salts can sulfuric acid have, ah... Jerrold?"

The boy named Jerrold looked up with absolutely blank eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists, squirming in his chair, and his jaw worked up and down without uttering a single sound.

"I could have sworn that Jerrold was here when we began class," Lisa Hamilton said tartly. "Excuse me while I mark him absent."

The class was given time to giggle.

"Merribelle? Can you tell us?"

A high-pitched nasal voice began: "Two, Mrs. Hamilton. It has two atoms of hydrogen, so it --"

Briiinnnggg!

Merribelle was rudely interrupted by the raucous sound of the class bell. It was five minutes to three, and another boring school day was over, and better yet, it was Friday! A whole weekend of freedom loomed ahead! The bell produced a nervous explosion, a discharge of every ounce of restraint that had stored up during the long hours. Lisa Hamilton couldn't have prevented her pupils from talking out loud and scraping their books together if she'd wanted to, and if truth be known, she was just as glad her last class was over as they were.

Immediately Merribelle and sulfuric acid atoms were forgotten by all, and the boys and girls stood in the aisles and chattered like magpies as they filed out the door. The chemistry classroom emptied, and from the long halls came the echoing reverberation of lockers being opened and shut and students coming and going. Mrs. Hamilton was left standing behind her desk; they all had something to do, someplace to go.

All except the thirty-one year old teacher. She smiled wistfully as the last of her students drained from the room and left it empty. Then she began gathering her papers together with a slow, precise grace, her mind wandering as it often did at the end of the day about where she should go and what should she do.

Home, she thought morosely. She'd go home just like always; home to a rambling ranch-house that was as sterile and vacant as this classroom. And it shouldn't be this way! She should be going out and having fun, letting a nice man take her to dinner and dancing and maybe even... oh God, it was madness to think this way! "I'm still a young and attractive woman," she groaned under her breath, "but I might as well be an old hag. It might even be better if I were..."

She hung her head shamefully, leaning forward on her hands in a posture of penitence. The papers and books on the desk were a blur of meaningless nothings to her as she contemplated the barren weekend ahead. It was always worse on Friday and Saturday afternoons, although now even the weekday evenings were becoming heavier to bear alone. Yet the thought of being with a man and encouraging his affection and friendship, produced a still greater reaction of aversion in her heart. A man inevitably meant a relationship, possibly even a sexual one in time, and always that reminded her of her ex-husband.

Her marriage to Ralph Hamilton had only been one year out of her life and seven years ago at that, but the scars of that brief interlude were still carved in her soul. She had finally become inured to living in the large house which had been theirs and which had been part of the divorce settlement; now it merely produced a dull ache every once in a while when she considered it. But the thought of Ralph invariably produced a sharp, icy chill, and even now as she stood at her desk she could sense the acute pangs growing in her chest. Instead of the womanly warmth that love should have brought her, she only had the frigid void of fear and despair, which no man had ever been able to crack since her parting with Ralph. And, wretchedly, she knew that emptiness included Ralph. Especially Ralph. While there had been things wrong about him, as there is with any human being, she instinctively realized that the blame for their dissolution rested squarely on her shoulders. Or rather, she was forced to admit grimly, the blame rested down between her legs...

Lisa knew deep in her mind that she attracted men easily. Without being immodest, she was aware that her figure and manner was disturbingly desirable, and that there was nothing outward to indicate her inner frigidity. She looked all woman, a totally sensual female. Ralph had been taken in by it, and she couldn't face the prospect of chagrin and horror which another affair would surely produce. So she lived alone... and hated it.

It wasn't as if she didn't know what was at the root of her problem - but knowing the problem and knowing the solution are two different things. Even though she had loved Ralph very much, she hadn't been able to respond to him the way a full-blooded woman should. Every time they went to bed, her mother was there between them in spirit, and the ghost of the old lady held her daughter back, curdling the physical response which nature had instilled in her body.

Lisa's mother was puritanical and prudish, but unlike Lisa, she believed sincerely hers was the only right way for a woman to behave. She had explained the mysteries of sex to her child when Lisa had come running home with her first menstruation, tearfully afraid something was wrong and she was bleeding to death. The mother's teachings had consisted entirely of dire warnings about the bestiality of men, and the woman's chore of submitting to their disgusting animal-like ruttings which overcame good taste and gentlemanly breeding. A woman had to endure, but never allow herself to willingly serve in the evil and filthy practice of procreation. To this day, Lisa could recite chapter and verse of St. Paul and St. Augustine, and the passages concerning the devil's love of flesh and the meaning of Original Sin.

It was certainly no wonder that Lisa lasted as a virgin all during high school and teacher's college, despite the numerous temptations cast her way. When, at the age of twenty-three, she had fallen in love with Ralph and lost some of her reticence, he had tried to explain to her that her mother was wrong. But the damage was too complete, and no matter how logical or loving he was, he couldn't dent the mother's insidious teachings which by then had seeped into Lisa's subconscious and controlled her basic emotions. The result had been that she'd remained untouched until her wedding night, and if she'd had her way, would have continued undefiled afterwards. Love was pure, sex was ugly... and the two could never be joined.

"Be kind, Ralph," she pleaded that first night together. "Please, be gentle with me."

And Ralph had been gentle and kind with her. But in the double bed with him, Lisa's eyes filled with tears, and when he caressed her breasts through the transparency of her honeymoon nightgown, her whole curvaceous body had shuddered uncontrollably. She sucked in her breath convulsively when he slid the negligee up over her naked body and began kissing the pink nipples of her breasts, making them harden and distend with involuntary desire. She could recall after all these years every clear detail of his strong hands sliding over her nude skin in the darkness of the motel bedroom, and the way her flesh had betrayed her mind by responding with shivery goose bumps of delight. His fingers moved slowly lower, until at last they teased softly over the curly silken hairs of her pubic mound. Then down deeper... to find their way gently into the tight valley between her tender vaginal lips...

Now, staring sightlessly down at the pile of work on her desk, Lisa Hamilton fought to erase the memories which still haunted her, but without success. The painful recollections of her marriage were too vividly seared on her mind to ever be forgotten, or forgiven. She unconsciously trailed her eyes down her conservative woolen dress, thinking how Ralph had traveled the length and breadth of her naked body that first night and on many subsequent nights after that. And she recalled the unwanted sensations he had caused to ripple through her exposed loins, now so correctly covered from blatant exhibition...

Ralph had been her husband, and she knew it was her wifely duty to please him. But her mother's warnings about tiny electric sensations of pleasure were still too strong for her to overcome, and she lay frozen on her wedding bed in fear that there was something wrong with her because he was sexually arousing her. And when her lawful mate lowered his strong, muscular body between her cringing thighs, and probed her defenseless virginal passage with his thick, throbbing penis, Lisa was more terrified than she'd ever been before in her life.

Ralph's massive cock-head buffeted lightly against her hymen, easing its way into the undiscovered moistness of her soft trembling pussy. It felt too good to her to be anything else except evil... and then she was able to sense the tight ring of her purity give way to the prodding tip of his long, hard cock. There was a spasm of pain, she recalled, but not like any pain she'd ever known before, it was warm and more fulfilling than frightening, and she involuntarily gasped with delight as she felt him slide further up inside her tightly clasping cunt.

Yet, helped by her domineering mother's disapproving image, she was able to fight away even the tiniest bit of excitement from her senses. She endured her new husband's lustful passions with hundreds of puritanical proverbs she had become infused with, reciting them silently with her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her lips bared back over her clenching teeth. She prayed her morality wouldn't desert her as she heard Ralph's breathing become harsher and more labored, and sensed the contradicting emotions surging through her when his penis flooded her vagina with great spurts of his hot thick sperm. That was the only reason for allowing a man to have his way with her... for children, for procreation... or so she told herself over and over.

Still, in spite of her firm resolve not to weaken, somewhere in the back of her mind were excited nerve-endings that lewdly reveled in the spewing warmth of his semen. His pulsating cock pressed rhythmically against the smooth, rippling walls of her helplessly contracting pussy. Those sudden, uncontainable spasms of delight had scared her breathless, and she redoubled her promises to resist the slightest sign of prurient pleasure for fear of becoming no better than a sluttish whore.

The next few nights were even worse for the newly-wed couple, no matter what Ralph did to try to overcome her resistance. Lisa's inability to rid herself of her mother's image and actively enjoy his love-making made her stiff and rejecting, until she was almost driven insane with guilt. It got so that in her mind's eye, his hardened erection was the symbol of all she was supposed to hate, and the sight of it projecting thick and spear-like from his hirsute loins was enough to set her trembling with witless anxiety. The blood-rigid rod of male flesh was too big, too lustful and overpowering for her to accept, and she groaned beneath its thrusting and surging with undisguised repugnance.

Months passed, and even talking out their problem was too painful to do any good. It was a time of hellish agony for the young woman, and she lay awake at night, listening to her husband toss and turn in his frustration. Even during the day, life was becoming increasingly unbearable for them -- for Ralph, because his wife's apparent repulsion to sex made him feel sexually inadequate for the first time in his life; and for Lisa, because her own fears and frigidity made her hostile not only to her husband, but to herself as well.

Eventually her consistent denial of sexual pleasure reached the point of no return. Over a night-club dinner on their first anniversary, Ralph drank a bit too much and blurted angrily: "I want a divorce. I want out, you cold-cunted icebox, so I can find me a real woman..."

And a self-denying, cold-cunted divorcee Lisa had remained ever since, miserable and subconsciously frustrated...

With a heavy sigh of regret and self-pity, the melancholy teacher gathered her books and papers together, and with a last look around the cavernous room, walked out and shut the door behind her. The hall was empty, the mad exodus of students over now, and her footsteps were a lonely sound to her ears. She could hear the last bus leaving the parking lot, and from further on came the distant yells of the school's baseball team practicing on the field. Pretty soon the custodian would begin his rounds, pushing the day's collection of dirt and trash ahead of him with his big broom. Perhaps I should let him sweep me up, too, she contemplated sadly. I'm not any more use than an empty bottle, or a discarded candy wrapper...

Disconsolately, Lisa Hamilton walked down the stairs at the end of the hall, and along the basement corridor toward the teacher's lounge, where she kept her hat and coat. But as she was passing the door to the girl's locker room, she heard an odd sound which made her pause. Curious, she cocked her head to one side, wondering if she'd heard correctly...

Yes! There the noise was again! It was a very faint wet sound, almost a sucking sound that was coming from the other side of the door, interspersed with soft moaning mewls! What on earth... ?

More perplexed with every passing second, Lisa stood wonderingly what the weird noises could possibly be, and automatically she glanced at her wristwatch. It was nearly three-thirty now, and nobody should be in the girls' locker room after the last gym class! Was somebody hurt, unable to cry out for help? Maybe... but she could not be certain. The walls were thin and the door hardly soundproof, but the sounds were so low as to be unintelligible. It would be terribly embarrassing to burst in and find that there was nothing wrong... but still... if there were a girl injured, it was her responsibility to find out!

She hesitated for another moment, and then she thought she could detect a vague whimpering. This convinced her to act, and, resolving to take a quick look inside just to set her mind at ease, Lisa pushed open the swing-door. Just inside was a plywood partition which acted as a screen to protect the girls' privacy as they changed or took showers. On the other side were the three rows of back-to-back metal lockers, with the tile shower room on the right and the exit to the gym on the left. The unknown sounds were in the direction of the showers, and, as she walked quietly toward the last row of lockers, she wondered if they were human or animal, or perhaps the dripping of a shower nozzle left on inadvertently when the students had hurriedly departed.

Louder now, closer and more distinct the sounds beckoned her nearer. Well, the noises were obviously not from the shower, she told herself irritably; while it might be wet, a shower drip would splash, not whimper and moan! She turned the corner of the locker row, gazing idly down the length, half-expecting it to be empty as the other two had been. Then her heart leaped into her throat!

Oh God! she cried silently, biting her lip to keep from screaming out in shock. On the long wooden bench in the middle of the aisle was a naked adolescent girl. Naked girls on locker-room benches are very ordinary and far from surprising in themselves -- it was how this girl was naked that blew the blonde teacher's mind!