Chapter 13

Once again I was, thanks to luck and quick thinking, in the good graces of my sister-in-law Kim and the all powerful criminal "Organization". Even Conrad, my older half-brother, had muttered a puzzled "Well done!" when he heard I was now on the books as a potential tactician and hit man, before he headed off to sea once more.

I now had time to consider the problem of how to rip the knickers off Miss Throsbie, the petit blue-eyed blonde who taught accounting at the night school I attended. What attracted me, apart from her physical attributes, was the fact that, although she appeared to be a very sexy little package, she was totally unaware of the fact. She had made it clear that she disapproved strongly of, "that sort of thing".

She was aged about twenty-five or six, stood about five foot two inches in heels, and was very short sighted. She would peer over a student's shoulder to check the screen or paper, quite unaware of the fact that one of her soft, full, breasts would dangle within range of his (the class was all male) carelessly lifted arm. Her tartan skirt would stretch invitingly tight across her derriere raising the hem and revealing shapely black stockinged legs, with a hint of white flesh above the stocking tops, to the great satisfaction of the student sitting in the desk behind. She was a honey!

She was also a true believer, a member of the Purity League and a regular attendee at a fundamentalist church which advocated no sex before marriage and very little after. She left tracts on her desk which staff and students were invited to take, read and inwardly digest. These educational pamphlets explained the way to salvation was through "clean living". Sex before marriage was an abomination. Consummation of marriage was permitted only with the lights out, nightwear modestly raised and in the missionary position.

So seriously had Miss Throsbie taken this last injunction that she was engaged to be married to one Gregory Goodman, who was saving souls in a remote village on the upper reaches of the River Congo. Once she had earned enough money to pay for the journey to Bongolo Mission, she said, she intended to abandon her classroom for married life in darkest Africa.

My plan was very simple. Through Kim's travel agency - a legitimate business specializing in arranging flights for disabled travelers to remote destinations (an ideal cover for her white- slaving activities) - I arranged a special travel package for the grateful Miss Throsbie - air to Brazzaville then transfer by hire car to a boat destined for Bongolo Mission. The flight was scheduled for the day after the night-school shut down for the holidays. Miss Throsbie was so happy, little knowing she would get no further than the cellblock in Kim's warehouse. Here I hoped to teach her some of the joys of sex before she took up residence in a middle eastern household whose master needed financial advice and a blonde fuck-toy.

Even simple plans screw up, as the Scottish poet said.

Three of my classmates had decided to make Miss Throsbie's final night-school session a memorable one. Earlier, she had antagonized them by confiscating a pornographic magazine they were sniggering over during class. It featured a large breasted schoolmarm being spanked, stripped, then gang-banged by her lusty pupils. Miss T. had failed to return the stick-book and maintained that she had lost it. In fact it had been recovered from her desk by Graham, the leader of the three. He decided to use it as the blueprint for Miss Throsbie's sexual enlightenment on the last night of school. I knew nothing of this until the night in question. I expected to escort the dainty blonde teacher to the "air port", calling at her apartment to pick up her bags. When Graham heard this, he had Spud and Snotty, his two disciples, make me an offer. They said I could join them in their nefarious plan to deflower the maiden teacher or...

I didn't want my legs broken and quarter of a loaf is better than no bread, as my dear departed Mamma used to say, so I smiled sweetly and accepted.

When just the four of us and the delightful and unsuspecting woman remained in the deserted class room, Spud locked the door. Miss Throsbie did not notice. She picked up her briefcase, ready to depart.

"Right, Sebastian," she said brightly, "shall we go?"

"Not just yet," said Graham, "we have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" she said, suspiciously. "What sort of surprise?"

"You remember that book you took from me?" sniggered Spud."The one where this teacher gets tied to her desk and the whole class watches her get spanked then... "

"We found it!" declared Snotty. "And all the other stuff you kept in your desk. Who'd have thought that the prissy Miss Throsbie, so pure, so proper, would have such a collection?! Such a fetish!"

"What are you talking about?" she said, genuinely puzzled.

"Your secret is safe with us, Miss Throsbie," said Graham. He was holding a thin cane which he had just taken from his sports bag. "We understand. And we are prepared, as a special favor to you on your last night with us, to help you live out you hidden fantasy!"

"Yeah," sneered Spud, "That's right!" He moved behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Let go of me! What, 'hidden fantasy'? What nonsense are you talking?"

"Not nonsense, Miss Throsbie. As well you know!" said Graham, preventing her from moving away from Spud with pressure from the cane. "Just look at the evidence! Show her, Snotty!"

Snotty came close to her. He was carrying a bundle of magazines, paperback books and a scrap book full of teacher-related pornography down loaded from the web.

"Found these in your desk. All the same theme. Like this one... 'Teacher Takes a Test', illustrated. She gets stripped naked by the boys in the class who then... well you can see what they do to her. She loves it, see? And this one. 'An Apple for the Teacher'. Same deal but they tie her up first and leave her for the janitor to untie. The dirty old bugger doesn't, of course, and she comes again! She's wearing a mortar board, too. In fact they nearly all are. And not much else. Is that part of the fetish, Miss?"

The teacher peered through her glasses having difficulty in seeing the printed words and pictures Snotty was waving in front of her nose.

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" she said, primly. "Now, please, let me go. I have a plane to catch!"

"Don't worry about that," said Graham. "Young Sebastian can take you to the airport when we've finished with you. Just look at the stuff we found and show me which is your favorite scenario. Don't pick 'Teacher's Pet', because we haven't got a nubile young schoolgirl for you to munch on!"

"What?" said Miss Throsbie still unaware that she was in any sort of danger. She managed to focus on some of the pornographic publications spread on a small table in the front of the classroom. "Where did you get all these... Oh! Oh dear!"

She was staring at a full page illustration of a woman, naked apart from black stockings, pumps and the ubiquitous mortarboard, bent over a desk being entered from both front and back by two extremely well endowed young men. In the background another is keeping a tally on the blackboard while the rest of the class has formed a line.

"I assure you none of this... this... filth is mine!" she said after a minute's silence.

"We found it in your desk!" lied Snotty.

"With a mortar board! What did you do? I'll bet you used to strip off after class, put on the old hat, and frig yourself to a climax just thinkin' what we horny lads could do if only we knew, eh?"put in Spud.

"It's not mine!" declared the teacher. "None of this... this... belongs to me!"

"You would say that, wouldn't you?" said Graham.

I picked up one of the books and showed it to her. As she peered to focus on the small illustrations I commented that the teacher in that epic was wearing no panties and wondered, aloud, whether she was knickerless too.

Before she could reply I slid my hand up her skirt, gently caressing her firm bottom before taking a firm grip on her right buttock and forcing her panties (of course she was properly dressed!) hard up against her tightly clenched arse.

She squeaked in surprise and tried to wriggle away from me but Spud had sat himself down in front of us and so there was no escape. She began to say something in a high voice but stopped when she saw what Spud was doing. He had unzipped his jeans. His tumescent penis was now pointing at the startled teacher who stood, mesmerized, as he grabbed her left wrist and guided her delicate hand onto the swelling erection.

"That's what you really want, isn't it?" he said, easing her fingers around his cock and indicating, by example, how she should handle the situation. "Times four?"

"N... No!" she gasped when she finally realized what she was holding and managed to jerk her hand away.

I let her go and she made a dash for the door. When she discovered that it was locked she turned but was still scrabbling at the door handle behind her back as she began to plead with the four of us.

"Please," she began, "you're mistaken if you think any of these... these... disgusting publications belong to me! I wouldn't... I couldn't... Please, just stop this nonsense now and open the door!"

"Nope!" said Graham, as he put an arm around the woman's waist. "Not until we've helped you to live out your secret longings!" He hugged her and then kissed her on the lips. While the diminutive teacher struggled to get away from Graham's embrace he ran his right hand up the outside of her left leg and cupped a plump cheek, scandalously clad (for a Purity League devotee)in black lace.

He picked her up and carried her to the table where the collection of teacher porn had been piled. He sat her down on the table making sure her legs were spread either side of his jean-clad hips. Her skirt rode up to show an expanse of soft white flesh above the black, elastic lace, stocking-tops. She struggled to pull the hem down and demanded in a barely audible voice that he, "StopitstopitstopitOhmygodno!"while Graham urged the rest of us to, "strip for action!"

She ceased her mantra and began to scream when Graham hauled the waistband of her skirt over her hips and, at the same time, tore her blouse off her back. "Shut up! You stuck-up prissy little bitch! No one will hear you! Besides, if there was anyone but us in the school do you think they'd risk a beating to help you?"

When Graham peeled off his tee-shirt, she wriggled off the table, scattering some of the graphic material. He caught her arm and led her back to the table.

"We're all going to fuck you, so forget trying to escape!" he said, as he fondled her lace clad bottom.

"No! I beg you... " she began to respond.

"Yes!" he interrupted fiercely. "I'm a butt man myself and I've watched you wriggle that plump little tail in front of the class for the last year. I've dreamed about what it would be like to have you bend over while I tenderized your rump before... before... When I found out that it's your secret dream too, well, you can guess how happy I was. How happy we all were! How willing to help you! So, bend over the table, Teacher, time for a little punishment!"

"Yeah!" sneered Spud. "It's what you get for being such a sneaky little bitch!"

"And it's our pleasure to give you what you've always wanted!" said Snotty.

"But it's not what I want!" she yelled. "What you are doing is rape! I don't want... "

"Shut up!" bellowed Graham. "Let's have the mortar board, Kid!" he ordered me. "And my little tail tickler!"

I hurried to obey and quickly placed the academic headgear on her head while giving one of her lace-covered tits a preliminary pat. "Try to relax, Miss Throsbie," I whispered in her ear. "You might find a thorough spanking really turns you on!"

Graham gave the teacher six cuts of the cane across her panty-covered bottom while I held the sobbing woman on the table. The other two would-be rapists stood by and watched. Each savage blow that Graham landed made Miss Throsbie howl and beg for us to stop. It was clear that her pathetic pleading was getting Graham more excited and after the sixth stroke of the cane he unzipped his jeans and let his erection spring free of the restraint.