Chapter 1

Mark couldn't believe it had gotten this far and yet here he was, living some kind of nightmare. A respected secondary school teacher married to a loving, beautiful successful wife, he had the life he dreamed of. As far as science teachers went, he was popular among the students and his colleagues. As a young couple, only five years out of university, Mark and his wife Rosie were only just settled in their new house. But they lived in a good neighbourhood and had plenty of friends they could call upon. A few more years and they'd probably be starting attempts for a baby.

But now Mark was a pariah, accused of a heinous crime: the rape of one of his own students. How had this even come to trial, he wondered. It seemed to be a case of her word against his – there could be no evidence, he knew, because it had never happened. The student in question was a certain Taylor, sixteen years old and evidently out for revenge. Thinking back to that one afternoon, he cursed himself for not doing things differently.

Taylor had come to him after school had ended, her uniform, as always, skirting the fine line between acceptable and not. Mark liked being popular among the kids so he was never going to be the one to tell her that the pleated blue skirt had ridden up her thin, creamy legs a little too high. Besides, the school itself was trying to move with the times so that, even if they had uniform, they didn't adhere to it too strictly. Pupils knew they could dress even more slovenly in Mark's classes so shirts and blouses often became untucked, buttons became undone. With Taylor it was a bit more of an art form – she knew how to arrange the clothes on her frame just so, to maximize the effect she wanted. That frame itself was a work of art too, although an incomplete one. Slender Taylor, with her creamy skin and tousled long blonde hair, could look like a delicate creature or a girl that had just fallen out of bed - but either way she oozed sex. There were better endowed girls of her age, probably many in fact. She wasn't particularly tall either, and her long legs looked a little awkward as if they hadn't caught up with the rest of her body in filling out yet. But she knew how to be sexy.

Mark was used to being surrounded by young nubile flesh of course, but Taylor was probably the only one that could actually distract him for a moment or two during class. Many of the teachers, the male ones that had confided with him, thought she did it on purpose. It was unspoken but obvious to him that those same teachers probably had fantasies of grudge-fucking the young girl. Her looks combined with a superior demeanour ensured that.

In truth she seemed to enjoy employing her wiles on Mark most of all. He was the youngest teacher after all, the subject of a number of school girls crushes and also the least likely to give in to temptation – happily married after all. Still, he was a man. He couldn't help glancing at Taylor's chest when she sat up in class, back straight, smoothing her sweater over the delightful B-cup swellings on her tight body. Alternatively she could be slouched down, her blouse unbuttoned far enough that he could see the top of the cups of her bra from the right angle. Taylor made sure he got those angles, and that her bra was a nice colour to contrast with all that pristine white. Under the desk her knee would be swinging from side to side like a nervous tic, offering a tease of what lay under her skirt to anyone sitting at the teacher's desk. And no matter how she dressed, at least once during class he would see her pink glossy lips sliding up and down over her pen, as she thought about ... whatever it was she thought about. Once he'd actually caught her eye as she did it, and she paused, pen half in mouth, as though embarrassed. Then, making sure he was still held captive by her eyes, she began slowly thrusting the pen back in and out of her mouth, fellating it her with lips even as she was fellating him in his mind. He had stopped mid sentence and turned to sit back behind his desk, where at least his erection wouldn't be spotted.

Still, the teasing wasn't enough for a teacher to worry about, or so he thought. Until that afternoon when she had come to him, after school, a pensive look on her face as she closed the door behind her.

"Taylor? Is there something you wanted to speak about?", Mark asked as he collected his papers. He took care not to glance too long at her but had to do a double take as his eyes travelled up from her skirt to her untucked blouse. The sleeves had been rolled up and the buttons undone nearly halfway down her torso so that the teacher had no doubt about the colour of her bra – she wasn't wearing one. In her hands she held her school jacket, the one thing that had been covering her up outside in the corridor. Steeling her courage, she tossed it aside and walked towards Mr. Slater. He swallowed and stuttered as he stared at her braless teenage breasts, bouncing half in view.

"Taylor! Your ... blouse!", was his strangled words and only then did his eyes finally meet hers. She stood in front of him, looking a little uncertain but meeting his gaze.

"I was thinking, Mr. Slater, Sir...", she started, before her hands came up to grab his, "I was thinking that you might ... want...". For all her practice at teasing, she'd never actually gone a step further, and this new territory was scary for a girl used to being in control.

They both watched as her hands took his and placed it squarely on her blouse, his palm separated from her nipple by thin cotton. She leaned into him slightly, her eyes closing, her teeth biting back her bottom lip. Mark was in a daze that he snapped out of as he felt her teenage nipple harden beneath his still hand. A moan escaped her lips and he pulled back.

"Taylor, what on earth... ?!", he started but she interrupted, her eyes opening.

"You like me! I know you do sir and I thought, because my grades aren't good ... I'd let you ... I'd let you do..."

He didn't know why, why he didn't stop the whole thing there, but he gasped it more out of fascination and surprise than out of any genuine interest in pursuing the offer,

"Let me do what?!"

Feeling bolder, Taylor leaned forward again, cornering Mark against his desk and pushed his hand back onto her sixteen year old tit before squeezing.

"Anything...", she half moaned and sighed, her face inches from his. Her eyes captured his, making it crystal clear that her offer was real. Finally, suddenly, Mark woke up and thrust the young girl from him, almost throwing her into the pupils' desks. He grabbed his bag and hurriedly threw his papers in. Taylor was crumpled against one desk, confused and her eyes filling up with tears.

"Don't you think ... I'm pretty? Is that it?", she asked. But Mark was already too spooked to register anything except a need to get out. He didn't acknowledge her presence, or words, as he fled.

Now Mark found himself on trial, with his world falling apart. His school had suspended him, naturally, pending the full results. His wife had become cold and while she said she believed him, her behaviour suggested otherwise. At the very least, she seemed to think that he should have told her of the incident and that it was still some kind of act of unfaithfulness. In fact pretty much every relationship Mark had – to friends and colleagues – had either been strained or broken.

"It can be fixed, you know"

Those had been the words of the strange lawyer that had come from out of the blue to offer his services. The man, in his sharp expensive suit, had bailed him out before he'd even had a chance to phone his wife, before introducing himself,

"I am Mr. Stansen", he said before pausing dramatically, " ... of Stansen & Stansen"

Mark's subsequent research had found them to be a small, very expensive law firm. They didn't take many clients or cases but he also seemed to only find cases that they had won, convincingly. Even stranger, Mr. Stansen had said the firm wanted to take his case pro-bono as soon as they had heard of it. How that was even possible when, at that moment, Mark's wife still didn't know, was just another of the strange facts. Still, Mark felt he had no choice but to accept their help. Between him and his wife they couldn't afford the best of lawyers, certainly nothing like Mr. Stansen.

"I want you to promise me something Mr. Slater", Mr Stansen had said. His manner was confident and charming, if a little formal.

"Please, just Mark"

"Of course ... Mark. I want you to promise me something, in return for our help."

"Ok ... what is it?"

"Mark, I want you to promise that when we get you acquitted – and we will – when we get you acquitted and you have your problems fixed and your work and social like is back to what it was ... no, even better than it was!", the teacher had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at Mr. Stansen's optimism, "I want you to promise me that you will live your life to the fullest. Promise that you'll take advantage of every opportunity that you get, that you'll enjoy every benefit that we're going to give you."

It seemed an odd way of phrasing it but Mark could only nod, "Of course! If I could just get my freedom back, get my name cleared ... it would be like a second chance. Of course I'd make the most of it, and I'd be so grateful!"

Only a day in and Mark was convinced that he'd made the right choice in accepting Mr. Stansen's help. Rosie had been far more sceptical but the money saving had been enough to sway her opinion. After all, if he was found guilty their marriage would be over – no sense her losing money over that.

"Your honour, its obvious the make up of this jury is already biased against my client", Mr. Stansen had argued. The judge, a man in his fifties, chuckled, a noise that made Mark wary,

"Really? And how is that?"

"Your honour, this is a rape trial. I put it to the court that any member of the jury that has a fear of rape – any jury member that is afraid of being forced to have heterosexual sex with a man – is already prejudiced against my client"

Mark put his head in his hands. That logic made no sense and Mr. Stansen was obviously crazy. Somehow he'd been stupid enough to choose him as a lawyer...

"I see", said the judge, "I suppose, ladies of the jury, that if any of you do hold a fear of being raped..."

"However slight or small that fear is", Mr.Stansen said, interrupting the judge. Mark couldn't believe the lawyer.

"Yes", said the judge, "however small that fear is, you should probably excuse yourself from this trial."

Mark looked up at the sound of chairs shuffling. Slowly, one by one, all the female jury members got up and filed out. Was this really happening?

"Similarly", continued Mr. Stansen, "I think you would need to be a heterosexual to fully understood a case like this, between a man and a woman"

"A man and a girl", the judge corrected, firmly, "But yes. If any of the jury is gay, they should also excuse themselves"

One man stood and left. All that was left of the jury was 5 men. Mark couldn't believe it – why was the judge accepting these ludicrous arguments? Not only that – nobody in the court seemed to question this strange turn of events, not even the prosecutor. Even if he didn't understand it, suddenly he could see how Mr. Stansen and his firm could be so successful.

"Your honour, members of the jury ... what we will show, in the course of only one day, is that what occurred on that fateful afternoon was not rape at all – far from it. No, what happened was in fact, a justifiable, even admirable act as part of the normal relationship between a committed, excellent teacher and his wayward pupil. You see this lady, the accuser, Miss Taylor Mayes", the lawyer pointed at the demurely dressed blonde beauty, "Is no less than a tease! A tease who enjoys tormenting men and one who needed to be taught a lesson! Who better to do that then her teacher – willing to take some of his own free-time, unpaid, willing to endanger his own marriage to his gorgeous wife, willing to expend the energy required to teach a tease a lesson!"

Yet again Mark swayed back in to despair. What was going on? It was too late for him to do anything about his choice of lawyer and he had no power to speak. Maybe, and he clung to this tenuous bit of hope, maybe Mr. Stansen could prove his fears wrong again.

"Men of the jury, your honour, who amongst us has not come across a woman, girl, young girl ... a female who delights in flaunting herself to provoke us men? Who hasn't wished these teases would have their ways corrected by whatever means necessary? We should be applauding this man", his hand came down to grasp his client's shoulder firmly, "For his courage and for sticking to his principles as both a teacher and a man. That lady, Miss Mayes, not to mention her family, her school and this court ... we should all be thanking Mr. Slater here for giving this lesson through the means of forceful and fair sexual intercourse."

Mark almost bolted out of his seat – had his lawyer really admitted, no, claimed, that Mark had actually had sex with Taylor? Surely he was finished now. But he was stayed by that hand on his shoulder and Mr. Stansen swept on,

"Allow me to present Exhibit A"

A large tv was wheeled into the centre of the court and flashed into life. A video started and there was a collective gasp. On screen was a view of what was obviously a teenage girl's bedroom, her pink bed in the centre. And perched on that bed was Taylor herself, staring into the camera lens. She was dressed in her school uniform, except that the skirt had been rolled up to barely mid thigh and her blouse was tied off, exposing a toned stomach and clinging tightly to her breasts. Mark had never seen the pretty teenager looking so sexy – her eyes had dark mascara, her legs were clad in white, thigh high stockings. Some music started and Taylor, on the video, commenced what was evidently a web-cam show, starting to dance and gyrate while staring, smouldering, at the viewer.

"Here", said the lawyer, after letting the video play for half a minute, "We have our tease. The truth is that Taylor has a number of such videos, as you will all see, available on the internet and purely to titillate men for her own sick pleasure."

Mark had no idea the teenager had this second life. Sure, he'd heard of cam-whores and the like and yes, he'd even watched a few similar videos. But sixteen year old Taylor? On screen she began toying with her blouse as her hips swayed. In court, it was Taylor's turn to put her head in her hands, but her torment was far from over.

"Now your Honour, men of the jury, watch this and the many more videos and imagine you are my client, Mr. Slater. You are a teacher surrounded, daily, by many young and beautiful girls and yet you are a faithful husband and upstanding adult. You have consistently resisted temptation but you have this thrown in front of you!" Mr. Slater himself was only half listening – on screen his gorgeous pupil had unwrapped her blouse to reveal a lacily trimmed bra clinging to her pert breasts.

"Imagine you have watched these videos and then have to come into work, every day, with this tease sitting and standing so close to you. Miss Mayes, could you come up here?"

Taylor looked up, astonished. Was this even allowed? To be asked to standing in the middle of court, next to that loathsome lawyer and the embarrassing video screen. How had he even known about those videos? She looked around for some kind of help but there was none. Every male face seemed to be looking from the screen to her, their faces hardened. Her parents looked mortified and angry. The judge's voice boomed out,

"Miss Mayes would you hurry up and take your place young lady?!"

She staggered up and walked through as he continued.

"I must say that so far, I am very unimpressed. Particularly with this video!" On screen the girl was sliding her skirt down her stockinged legs, revealing matching lacy boy shorts on her rump. She turned slightly to show off that ass and Mark gasped, "My God!" under his breathe. The regulation school skirt did a very poor job of showing the shape of a girl's behind but evidently Taylor had been hiding a magnificently tight, pert specimen for a while.