Chapter 5

"And, you got it all done in less than an hour?" Melanie asked, looking out the window.

"Yes." Ilsa sat on the bed in their dorm room, then flopped down on her back. She was relieved now that she finished telling Melanie all about the meeting. "What are we going to do, Mel?"

Ilsa's lover turned to her. "Ilsa, you have to do what Ms. Crow says. Otherwise, we're doomed."

Ilsa nodded, and sighed deeply. "What about you? I wonder if she's going to have a meeting with you, too?"

Melanie chewed lightly on her lip. "I was wondering that myself."

As if on queue, their phone rang. "You get it," Ilsa said.

Melanie stuck her tongue out at Ilsa and picked up the phone.

"Ohh, yes, hello Ms. Crow," Melanie said into the phone.

Isla sat straight up.

"Yes, Ma'am..." Melanie nodded, looking at Ilsa the whole time. "Umm... yes Ma'am, she has... I do understand, yes, Ma'am... ok... yes... bye."

"What, what??" Ilsa demanded.

Melanie sat next to her. "She wants me in her dorm in five minutes. She asked if you had told me what your arrangement was. And she asked if I understood the consequences of you failing to do your tasks."

Ilsa took a long look at her beautiful girlfriend. "I don't want to lose us," she whispered, taking Melanie's hand.

Melanie smoothed Ilsa's light brown hair. "We won't lose each other, Ilsa. We won't." She leaned over and kissed the other girl's mouth gently, letting her lips linger against her softness. Their tongues came out and slid slowly against one another, and the kiss deepened. Their arms went around each other wordlessly, and they sat there, their mouths locked in a deep kiss, for nearly half a minute. Melanie dropped one hand to Ilsa's thigh. They unlatched from each other's moist, tender mouths slowly, their eyes searching each other's dreamily.

"I love you," Melanie said softly. Ilsa smiled and said, "I love you too."

"You better get going," Ilsa added.

Melanie nodded, kissed Ilsa's nose, and got up.

Just a few minutes later, Melanie stood in the small office of Marsha Crow's bungalow.

"Now, Melanie, I can see from researching you that excel in language arts."

Melanie nodded. "It's been my strongest subject, yes Ma'am."

"Good. On your free period, you will come here, and take whatever is in this tray-" she tapped the end of a blue plastic tray full of compositions, essays, and articles--"and you will proof-read them. You will use a red pen, and mark any grammatical and spelling errors you find, and put them in the black tray when you finish. I will have plenty of work for you. I teach at two different schools."

Melanie nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." So far, this didn't sound terribly hard.

"Now come over here..." Ms. Crow said, walking by the uniformed girl and put her open hand on Melanie's bottom. Melanie flinched at the intimate gesture, but said nothing. The teacher patted her buttock gently, as if to urge her along, and Melanie, blushing deeply, followed her to the kitchen.

"If your girlfriend has done her job," Ms. Crow said with a small smile, "everything will be clean and in place here. Just before you leave, you'll make a pot of tea." She opened the cupboard, showing her where the teapot and tea bags were.

"That way, when I get back, just after you leave for your next class, I'll have my tea ready and my papers half graded."

Melanie stared at her, incredulous. She was being asked to be a kitchen servant in addition to the workload with the English compositions. She felt flush with humiliation as the woman locked eyes with her, smiling triumphantly. Melanie's eyes fell to her own shoes. What choice did she have? If either she or Ilsa failed in their duties, they would be exposed, expelled, and torn apart.

Ms. Crow walked closer, standing inches from the young beauty. She took Melanie by both shoulders. "Now, Miss Flowers, I trust I will get nothing but excellent work, and total cooperation, from you. Am I right?"

Melanie brought her eyes back up to meet the teacher. Right now, there was no way out of this. Correcting papers and making tea, while she certainly would rather be doing other things, seemed an easy trade when it came to keeping her very crucial secret.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Ms. Crow smiled at her, then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips lightly. Melanie stiffened. Then, she remembered what Ilsa told her, that this woman had seen her in the car with her, naked, legs open, writhing in orgasm. A deep shiver went through her, and she had to avert her eyes.

A small laugh came from Ms. Crow's throat, as if she were reading Melanie's thoughts, and remembering the image of Melanie's body, wanton and exposed.

"You'll start tomorrow," the teacher said, turning away. "Dismissed."

After her class with Ms. Crow the next day, Ilsa glanced at her teacher on the way out and they exchanged a silent look. Ms. Crow wanted to make sure Ilsa was on her way to her assignment.

The slender teenage girl walked the path to the teacher's cottage and used the key she was given to go in. First things first, she sighed. Little Donut. She put her books down on the table and got the dog food. After emptying half a can into his bowl and setting on the kitchen floor, she went to the cage in Marsha Crow's bedroom and let the schnauser out. He jumped up on her legs, then galloped to the kitchen and devoured the meal. Ilsa got her cleaning implements out while the dog ate. When he was finished, she clipped the leash to him and walked him away from the central part of the campus, through a grove of oak trees to the edge of the woods. He stopped twice to pee, and each time Ilsa looked back at the campus, quiet except for some girls on their break. She sighed, thinking that she was usually in the library or back at her dorm, catching up at this time. She walked the dog further towards the woods, and found a wide path leading in. She remembered that this leafy path led out to a bicycle path, which went into the school grounds to avoid the main highway, then, veered back out of the woods, on the other side of a wall, to the more public area, adjacent to the street. As she got a few yards into the path, she could hear the faint rush of traffic beyond.

Little Donut did his business, and she stood patiently, looking away, and caught some movement further in the bushes. She peered toward the wall, which was now visible, and was quite certain that she saw a man. He was standing, and staring at her. His eyes looked wide, and he looked to be in his forties or fifties, a little heavyset, with balding gray hair. He had a blue windbreaker and some black trousers on. She knew that somewhere in these woods, a fence separated the school grounds from that portion of the bike path. Or did it?