Chapter 1

Ms. Anderson, English and Composition, was a bitch on wheels. No one who discovered that they had her for English was very happy about it. Ray, Charlie and Lennie, who called themselves the three mouseketeers, were really unhappy. They had already suffered from one year of English with Old Lady Anderson and now, having flunked, they were assigned to her again.

The first day was an agony. The bitch at the front of the class made comments at their expense about how much English that they'd know, taking it for the second time, and she made remarks about being grateful that they liked her enough to some and see her again. The comments came during most of the entire first day period.

They met after school and talked about it. It was only a continuation of the conversations that they had already had after English last year. This time, however, they said that they were 'serious.'

"Let's go and visit her some night," Ray said.

"Visit the bitch?" Charlie asked.

"You crazy?" Lennie scoffed.

"Yeah," said Ray, "Visit her, you know at her home some night and teach her some manners."

They laughed about that, about teaching Old Lady Anderson some manners, for a while. But it was ultimately Ray who set the tone for their adventure with Mrs. Anderson:

"Hey," he said with sudden inspiration "We'll make the bitch blow us."

"Hey, cool," Lennie said.

"Right, cool," Charlie agreed.

"No matter what else," Lennie said then, "She's got big tits."

"Got that right," Charlie agreed.

They settled down then to some actual planning for their visit to their teacher. Then with a thoroughness that their teacher might even appreciate, they began to go into details about what they'd do. They paid visits at night to scope out her house, finding it rural and isolated, much to their delight. They noticed that she had a kind of late night schedule that she held to every night. Before she turned the lights out, she took out the trash. For three nights running they watched her, barely suppressing their giggles about what they were going to do.

Carol Anne Anderson was a contended woman, even as she got closer to middle age. She was, at 42, still fairly attractive, although putting on weight across the middle. She liked her life and the orderliness of it.

She watched Letterman late that night, and then took a shower. Only when she'd already dressed in her nightgown, a long pink affair that she really favored, did she remember that she hadn't taken out the trash. It was her nightly ritual, kind of even a mental thing, the removal from her life of the dregs that had accumulated for the day. So, out to the kitchen she went, and then she went out walking to the back of the yard. She was even kind of pleased at the feel of the night air against her barely covered body. Her nipples were erect and she allowed herself to have silky, sexy thoughts. She stopped her walk with the trash, and let the feeling of the night breeze sweep over and against her, making her nipples even harder. She loved the sensation, and the accompanying surge of fantasies that she was prone to, when she allowed it.

Carol Anne giggled about it, a sound so unusual that, had the guys actually heard it, they would never have believed it was from Ms. Anderson, the ogre.

But the giggle was for her fantasies and the games she promised herself that she'd play in her bedroom, giving in to scenarios of being 'taken', or 'forced' or 'made to... ' here her giggle became delicious, as she thought of, fantasized about being someone's who would order her to suck their cock.

(Even using the word was a powerful aphrodisiac for her. But Carol Anne got a grip on herself and went on with the trash.) The three mouseketeers were waiting at the back of the yard, in the trees. They watched Carol Anne Anderson come out of the kitchen. They saw her stop and wondered what she was up to, hoping that she hadn't seen them.

But apparently she hadn't, for she came on then with the trash, and were immediately pleased by the fact that, with the light behind her, her nightgown was transparent.

"Look at the sexy bitch," Charlie said.

"Yeah, fuckin' nice lookin'," Lennie agreed.

"This is going to be more fun than we had thought," Ray said, with all three agreeing and laughing.

Carol Anne made it to the back of the yard and put the trash in the can. She was still smiling about the treat that she was going to allow herself, when she climbed into bed. Just as she turned to go back to the house, they struck.

"Nice tits, teach," Ray said, standing in front of her.

"Yeah, nice ass too," Charlie said on the other side of her.

Lennie joined them and said: "I bet you've got a nice pussy too."

Carol Anne was stunned by the suddenness of their presence in her face. But she recovered quickly:

"What are you three retards doing here?" she demanded to know, the sweet feeling of the fantasy totally gone now.

Ray moved quickly; he slapped Carol Anne's face hard, sending her reeling.

"Be more polite, teach," he demanded.

She stood and held her hand to her reddened face, and then turned on her heels and started to walk away. Ray grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her back around. Giving her no time to react at all, he punched his teacher in the stomach. Carol Anne Anderson folded like a deck of cards, going to her knees.

Ray pushed the kneeling gasping teacher with his foot so that her head was in the grass. He put his shoe on her cheek and pushed her head farther into the ground. He laughed and let up, as she began to gasp.

Lennie and Charlie hauled the gasping teacher back to her feet. "Are you going to be more polite, teach?" Ray asked her in a low but threatening voice.

"I'll see you punished for this," was her response, just before he hit her in the stomach again.

Lennie and Charlie let her go then, as she folded again to her knees in the grass with her head down, resting her forehead on the ground. She just groaned. Lennie and Charlie then pulled her up so that she was on her knees in front of them. Ray took out a knife. For a few seconds, Carol Anne looked at them with panic in her eyes. They all enjoyed the look. Ray reached out then and with a swift gesture cut the straps of her nightgown.

This time, when they hauled her up to her feet, the nightgown fluttered to the ground, getting stuck for a few seconds first at her hips.

"See, I told you," Ray said, "Nice tits."

"Please," Carol Anne said, covering her tits with her arms.

Ray slapped her face again, sending her staggering back a few steps.

"Put your fuckin' arms down," Ray demanded.

At this point Carol Anne Anderson began to cry. But she quickly put her hands down.

Lennie reached out and grabbed her nipples. She looked up shocked but, fearing what Ray might do, said nothing.

"More like it, teach," Ray said to her, "You're learning but I think, teach, that you still have a lot that we need to teach you."

Lennie grinned then and began to pinch her nipples. She only groaned at first but then her groaning became louder, as he pinched harder and harder. He began to twist the nipples creully. Her legs folded as the pain increased, and she went to her knees again.

"Please," the trembling teacher said.

"Please what, teach?" Ray asked.

"I don't know," she answered, shaking her head.

(And she really didn't; she knew that she loathed these three, thought them troublemakers, but was confounded by the fact that they were playing out her own fantasy here, as though she'd written it for them and had rehearsed them.) Then she was silent.

"Please do it again, Lennie?" he prompted.

She looked up suddenly and, afraid to speak to the, shook her head 'no'. Ray slapped her. This time on each cheek. Tears were running down her face, and she was becoming really afraid.

"Say it, teach, or I'll slap you silly."

"Say what?" she said a voice of agony, "Please tell me."

"Tell Lennie to pinch your nipples again," was Ray's answer.

"Oh please no, that hurt so much," she whined.

Ray slapped her face again. She was blubbering by this time. But she went on:

"Lennie, please do that again," she said weakly.

"Do what, teach?" Ray asked, raising his hand.

She flinched from the possibility of another slap and said quickly:

"Please pinch my nipples; Lennie please, do it!"

And right then, despite the pain, despite the fear, despite what she knew was a desperate situation, Carol Anne meant what she said. She knew that and hated the fact that she knew it.

"Sure, teach," Lennie said, grabbing his teacher by the nipples and pinching them again. He twisted them cruelly again also.

Carol Anne Anderson wailed, prompting Charlie to put his hand over her mouth. She began to cry bitterly.

"Why?" she demanded to know.

"Because you're such a bitch, Ms. Anderson and we're going to teach you to be polite," was Ray's answer. "Now stand up," he ordered.

Carol Anne struggled to her feet, and stood, this time, meekly in front of them.

"Ugly panties, teach," Ray said, reaching out and snapping the waist band of her plain, white cotton panties.