Teacher

It was a Friday evening and a bunch of us had gone to a night club. It was a very informal arrangement. It wasn't that we were couples or anything like that, just a bunch of girls and guys hanging out together.

You know how it is in those places. Some of us drifted away from the group while others joined it. Then some of those who drifted away would come back and others would wander off. We weren't keeping a close eye on each other, just friends having a good time together.

At one point, about midnight, I got separated from the main group. I didn't worry about it. I'm a big girl now. I could look after myself and I'd connect up with the others sooner or later. I drifted over to the bar to get myself a drink.

"Geez, they'll let anyone into these places," drawled a nasty voice behind me.

I just knew whoever it was, was referring to me, and I held my head high, standing on my dignity. I had to stand on my dignity. I was too short to get my head high any other way. Petite, that's me.

"I thought you had to be at least eighteen to get in," continued the voice and this was something I was going to have to nip in the bud. I don't look eighteen and if I hadn't had my ID and my friends to vouch for me I wouldn't have got in. If anyone raised a query about my age I'd be thrown out just so the nightclub could be on the safe side of the law.

I turned around to give the man my patented killer glare. My ire was raised even higher when I saw who it was. Would you believe it was Mr Mac, my English teacher? What the hell was he doing in a night club?

"You know damn well," I started to say hotly, but then caught hold of myself.

"Good evening, sir," I said politely. "I am fully aware that you know how old I am and that I am legally entitled to be in this night club. I thought they had an upper age limit? Don't you have to be under thirty?"

"Cat," he said cheerfully. "Why are you nightclubbing instead of at home busy studying for your exams?"

"I have completed my exams," I pointed out, "and I am quietly confident that I've passed all of them."

"Well, I don't know about your other exams but I know how you went in English."

That was all he said. I waited, but he didn't say another word.

"Well?" I prompted him.

"Now Cerise, you know the school rules. I'm not allowed to tell you that you have a distinction in English. You have to wait until the official marks come out."

I wanted to jump in the air and shout yes. I thought I'd done really well in English. Some other subjects would be tighter, but English was one of my best.

"To make up for your disappointment at not being able to find out your mark, why don't you let me buy you a drink? What'll it be?"

Why not? Smiling happily I placed my order, only mildly irritated when he attracted the attention of one of the bartenders by just lifting a finger. I'll admit Mr Mac did have a bit of a presence to him.

I had my drink and tried to pressure Mr Mac into telling me my mark but he just smiled and shook his head. After a few minutes his smile seemed to get a bit blurry and I could feel the drink hitting me.

"You look like you need a breath of fresh air," Mr Mac was saying, and he was holding my arm, escorting me to the door. That was all I knew of the nightclub.

I woke up feeling a little confused. It slowly registered on me that I was in a strange room, laying on someone's bed. That was a downer. On the plus side, I seemed to have all my clothes on. A quick check showed that, yes, my panties were still on, which was a bit of a relief.

I went to sit up and things promptly went downhill. I couldn't. My left arm was stretched out to the side and I hadn't moved it when I checked for panties, just slipping my right hand down and plucking at the material of my dress. Now I found that I couldn't move my left arm. It appeared to be fastened to something. I went to roll over to try to use my other arm to free myself but found I couldn't do that, either. My right ankle was fastened to the bed.

From what I could see, I had some handcuff fastened to my ankle. One I couldn't undo very easily even if I could just reach it. Presumable the same sort of arrangement was on my wrist.

"Hullo, again," said a voice and I looked over to see Mr Mac standing in the doorway, smiling at me.

"What do you think you're doing? How long have I been here? Why am I tied up?" I demanded, feeling distinctly nervous.

"Let's see. You've been here for about half an hour. You're tied to the bed so you won't fall off it and hurt yourself. What I'm doing is entertaining myself. Ah, I take it you did notice that you're still fully dressed, bar your shoes?"

I nodded, the reminder relieving me slightly. After all, if he really had evil intentions he'd have been able to strip my clothes off while I was out cold.

"I noticed," I admitted. "What happened to me and will you please undo the cuffs?"

"It seems that some nasty person slipped a knockout drop into your drink. A most reprehensible thing to do. You just went to sleep while talking to me, so I felt I'd better see you safely home."

"This isn't my home. Who would have given me a knockout drop? Ah, the cuffs?"

"It is my home, though. I have to admit that I might have slipped you the drops. We'll leave the cuffs for now. You're probably wondering, if the man has evil intentions, why am I still dressed?"

I nodded.

"That's because it's much more interesting undressing a young lady when she's awake and knows what's going on."

My stomach turned over and he was moving closer to the bed. I slapped at his hands with my free hand and he just caught it and held it down. Then he lifted my dress and started pulling my panties down. Started? He whipped them smartly down, ignoring my kicking and swearing and trying to hit him. He caught hold of my left leg to stop the kicking and dragged my panties off that leg, leaving them bunched up around my cuffed ankle on my other leg. And he laughed while he did it.

I guess he must have taken the time to examine my dress while I was out. He seemed to know just where the various fasteners were and how to undo them, and this he proceeded to do. Amid a hot mouthful of descriptive adjectives he removed my dress, leaving me to lie there in my bra, and that didn't take long to undo, finally leaving me naked.

I was helpless and naked and I knew it. He was looking at me, and liking what he saw. It was odd. The fact that he liked seeing me naked started heat burning inside me while, at the same time, I was mentally cringing away from him. He ran his hands over my breasts, rubbing them and pushing them about, finishing up by running his hand down to my pussy and rubbing me there while I squirmed under his touch, protesting bitterly that he had no right to do this.

He stood up and looked down at me.

"Don't go away," he said with a smile and a wink, and sauntered out of the bedroom.

Don't go away. Chance would be a fine thing. I tugged at my ankle and wrist but they were both held firmly. All I achieved was the ability to rattle the stupid cuffs.

Mr Mac returned and sat down next to me. He had a bottle of something which he started to dribble onto my breasts. I figured he was going to massage oil onto me, just having his fun. Having his fun was right.

He leaned over me, his mouth on my breast, sucking and licking at it.

"What is that stuff," I asked, realising it couldn't be oil.

"Honey," he said. "Very tasty stuff. A little nipple makes it even tastier."

With that he very carefully cleaned up the honey, his mouth wandering over my breasts, sucking and licking and sucking some more. Then he added some more honey.

Oh my god, I was going mad. If having him sucking honey off my breasts wasn't bad enough he was also playing with my pussy. It started of simply enough, just firmly rubbing against my mons, but I could feel the effects of that rubbing deep inside me. Then his hand moved around a bit, sliding along the cleft in my flesh, rubbing against my lips, stirring me up.

That didn't satisfy the monster, of course. He rubbed my mound firmly, first back and forth along it, then crossways, deliberately dragging my lips apart and letting them slap back together. I could feel the heat building up inside me and I was squirming about under his touch.

With the third lot of honey his fingers went even further, easing past my lips and probing about inside me, agitating me, working me up, building on my arousal. I was hot and wet and squirming under him, wanting him to stop, wanting him to do even more.

He stopped and stood up, smiling down at me. Slowly he undressed, watching me all the while. His erection bulged against his trousers and I couldn't help but watch as he dropped his trousers and showed himself. Naked, he sat back down on the bed, leaning over me slightly. A hand on either breast and he gave them a gentle squeeze and drew his hands slowly down my sides. There was a hand either side of me, just at the base of my ribs, and then he poked me under each rib.

I shrieked and almost bounced off the bed. That's why I was fastened down, so I wouldn't bounce off. The son of a bitch thought it was hilarious, hands probing in and tickling me while I shrieked and squirmed, giggling my fool head off.

He stopped and I was left lying there, think what the fuck? I couldn't believe he'd done such a thing. Molestation and ravishment was one thing. Tickling a poor girl like that was completely beyond decent behaviour.

He was still laughing at me as he moved between my thighs, his hands lightly stroking my breasts, his cock now gently rubbing against my pussy, sort of sliding up and down along my slit. I was back to moving uneasily beneath him, knowing what was to come and hating the idea and at the same time wanting it, but there was nothing I could do to stop him.

A hand left my breast and travelled down to my pussy, rubbing it, slipping between my lips and touching me inside, preparing the way for his cock. The swine seemed to know just where to touch to have me jumping about. A couple of times I thought he wouldn't have to take me, I'd simply impale myself on his cock. I literally screamed when he stroked me right next to my clitoris.

He took his finger out and aligned himself, hard masculine flesh pressing lightly against soft female flesh. I waited nervously, knowing he was going to drive into me at any second.

Any second at all, and he would be taking me.

Poised there, just fucking touching me, ready to slide home.

I was breathing hard, anticipating that first lunge. Would he try to drive all the way home in a single thrust or what?

Any moment now he would be thrusting into me.

"What the fuck are you waiting for," I yelled at him, feeling rather frustrated at the delay.

"Permission," he said.

What? What was he talking about? You don't need permission to rape someone. You just do it.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"Well," he said, sounding sanctimoniously smug, "you can't expect me to just take you without permission. Why, that would be rape."

I thought I was going to have a stroke. He had got me aroused, I was burning with need, and now he wasn't going to follow through? I mean, he'd even licked honey of my breasts and now. . .

"Just do it, fuck you," I wailed at him, almost groaning with relief as he laughed and drove forward.

I'd been right about one thing. All the way in with that first stroke, burying himself inside me. I just closed my eyes, feeling myself wrapping around him, holding him there, relieved that it was finally happening.

Well, not relieved, as I didn't want this, but relieved in a way because I wouldn't have to wait any longer. So while I was relieved, I wasn't really relieved and I just want to make that point clear. Being relieved doesn't mean that I was really relieved. OK. Maybe I was a little confused about how I felt.

He only waited a moment and then he started on me, pulling back and driving firmly into me, with me automatically lifting my hips and pushing to meet him. It seemed reasonable that I should cooperate, as things would go smoother that way.

I'd lift my hips and I would feel his cock sliding down my passage, stirring me up and making me hot. My temperature was rising with every stroke and there seemed to be a lot of them. Even though he wasn't wasting any time with his love making he sure seemed to be prolonging the encounter. Maybe it just took him a while to get his rocks off.

I suppose I can't really complain that he was taking a while to do the dirty deed. The longer he went the hotter I got, and I was really burning after a few minutes, expecting him to blow at any moment and quite ready for it to happen. I was tossing my heads about, gasping and panting, humping my bottom, doing all that I could to get him over the line, and still he kept going.

I couldn't keep it up. I was over-excited, needing completion, and if he couldn't finish who cared? I was about through and he could go to hell. A couple more strong thrusts from him and that was it for me. I climaxed, and climaxed very strongly, shivering and shaking with the force of my feelings.

It turned out that that was all he'd been waiting for, giving a grunt and letting loose quite happily with his own climax while I was still shaking with mine.

He rolled off me and lay on the bed next to me, a happy smile on his face. I just lay there, spent. Eventually I came back to my initial request.

"Ah, the cuffs?"

"What about them?"

"I'd like them off," I said, speaking carefully to ensure I didn't shriek at him and offend him.

"Well, take them off," he said.

Oh, yes, so simple. Just chew through my wrist and the cuff will drop away.

"Ah, I don't have a key," I pointed out. (And couldn't reach them even if I did have one.)

"You don't need one. I explained that when I put them on. They're trick cuffs. Just bang them against something hard and they'll pop open."

He was kidding. He had to be kidding. I banged the cuff on my wrist against the bar it was chained to and the fucking thing just popped open and fell off. I was going to kill him. The same thing happened with my ankle, one firm rap and no cuffs.

"You can get those things in naughty stores," Mr Mac observed. "You should have listened when I told you how to pop them?"

"When did you do that?" I demanded.

"The same time as I put them on," he said glibly. "I wouldn't cuff you without telling you how to get free."

I'd been out cold and he damn well knew it.

"You think this is such a joke," I snapped. "You won't laugh when I have you charged with rape."

"What rape?"

"What you just did to me!"

"Like, what I did when you told me to just do it?"

Fuck. He was right. I'd demanded that he do it. Fucking hell. No rape. Trick cuffs. Why hadn't I spotted that there was no keyhole?

"Well, screw you," I snapped. "That's all I've got to say."

"And it's an invitation I will happily accept," he said. "Shall we start with the honey again?"