by Selena Kitt
"The fish, Phil?"
"Tautog—they're quite common around our rocky shores. More good eating, they say. Personally, I hate fish. More of a meat-eater, myself." Phil continued to rub himself against Lacey's ass, and kiss the back of her neck. Now his hands joined in, the first deftly beginning to unzip the back of her costume top.
"Who's this guy here, Phil? I've seen him downstairs with Julie." Lacey turned in his arms, effectively stopping Phil from completely unzipping her corset. "Whoa, mister. That'll be enough of that, you naughty little boy." Looking up into his hungry leer, and smiling at him with a most seductive pout, Phil realized she was only playing coy. Flirting; something rather unusual for the normally prim Miss Rodriguez.
"Spoken like a true teacher. I suppose you have all the naughty little boys trying to touch you in class, Miss Rodriguez," he teased.
"Only with their eyes, Mr. Weazel. They're nowhere near as badly behaved as you."
"Well, I guess you'll just have to punish me, Teach. Make me stand in a corner, or something," he said, forming his own alluring pout.
"In a little while, Phil. Not here." Trying to defuse an evening killer, she jumped back to her original question. "So who's the guy? He's a lot younger than the rest of you, and he's only got the one fish."
"Jamie MacLeod. Town cop. It was his idea to fish locally. I guess he's a scuba diver or something. Claims there's a lot of big fish right at our doorstep." Phil grabbed Lacey by one hand and lead her back into the main part of the master bedroom; the part dominated by a huge four poster bed. "Anyway, he's only got the blue shark because he was driving the boat. Supposed to be working, lazy cop. Town fathers only let him come along cause he knew where the fish were." Patting the bedspread, Phil ordered Lacey to sit, and when she did, he sat right next to her, snuggling close. Almost immediately, his hands went exploring. "Didn't even keep the damned shark. Threw it back alive, I heard. Idiot. Why are we talking about him? Come here, you sweet thing."
When his fingers pattered over her costume's corset, and began to skitter up onto her white satin bodice, Lacey slapped them away. "Philip — not here. Someone might see." She looked up into his eyes, a sheepish smile on her face as she placed one red gloved hand on his broad shoulder. "I like you...a lot. I want to...but not here. Okay? I've a reputation to—”
"I'm the vice principal at CP—most of these people's boss. I really don't give a shit."
"And I'm just your newest, greenest teacher. Most of these people's tongues are already wagging over the costume I'm wearing. I don't want to leave here with everybody thinking I'm a total slut." She leaned over to him then, fully aware he could see right down her costume, and kissed him passionately on the mouth. "Tell me about this Lady Liberty I'm supposed to be playing. What're my super powers, anyway? Can I leap over tall buildings, fly, or something?"
"You really don't know? Never seen her on the internet, or in a comic book?" His hands were back, persistent, testing. Just as persistently, she slapped them away. "Well, the gold bracers you're wearing—yeah, why don't you take them off—gloves too—give you super strength to fight the bad guys and evil monsters. Of course, in every episode, you seem to lose them almost immediately." His fingers were still exploring, a little more insistent now. He'd gotten the back of her costume half unzipped, and twice his right hand had made a dive inside her satin bodice. "The gold belt—come on, off with it." Giggling uncontrollably, she played along, obediently unsnapping the back of the wide vinyl belt, and handing it to Phil. "Thanks, babe. Well, this belt protects Lady Liberty's "virtue". Saves her from being molested—raped by all manner of ugly creatures. Of course, she's always losing this belt almost quicker than her gloves."
"So she's not really a super hero at all—I'm just some sort of kinky damsel in distress who's always getting—violated?"
"That's about it, babe." Seeing the disappointed look on Lacey's face, he was quick to defend himself. "Hey, babe, I didn't go into all the gory detail about how she gets raped. Space-freaks, eggs, impregnation and all that good stuff."
"Gee, Thanks, Phil. Can we go now?"
"Wait, there's just one more room. Then we'll go, I promise. Find ourselves a nice spot down by Wolf Head Light—or I'll take you home—if that's what you really want."
"One more room." Lacey was obviously very disappointed in the way her evening was going. Sweetling's drug certainly seemed to make her a willing lover, but Phil's comment about Lady Liberty's usual fate seemed to turn her to ice cold stone. "All right. But then we go, okay? All this wine is starting to give me a head ache, and I really should get my calico cat, Allegro, inside."
"So you want to just go home? Take care of your pussy," he tittered.
She smiled up at him, batting her sooty dark eyes. "Be a good little boy and we'll see. Teacher might give you a gold star if you're really well-behaved."
What if I'm really...naughty, bitch? "Okay, put this on over your eyes. Here, let me tie it." Leering like a wolf, Phil waited until Lacey had removed her mask, and then wrapping a dark cloth over her eyes, he tied the blindfold behind her thick black hair. Ignoring the small pile of discarded costume accessories and her small purse, he took Lacey by one hand and led her staggering out into the hall. Winding through the lengthy hall and down a dozen narrow stairs, he finally pulled her into a large, much cooler room, and removed her blindfold.
* * * *
Lacey and Phil just stood there holding hands, drinking in the Bonnets' 'playroom', looking like Hansel and Gretel before the witch's cottage. There were heaps of magazines and videos, all promising adventures in bondage. A brace of matching gallows stood facing each other, their hanging manikins clothed in blue latex and black leather. Sheathed tightly from toe to head top, Lacey wondered how they breathed until she saw the hole. There were actually a number of holes; only one could possibly be used for breathing. The others promised breath-taking experiences. A rough hewn plank studded with rusted nails, and supported by two kneeling maidens clad in restrictive leather garments that left nothing to the imagination, offered a large display of male dildos. Some electric-powered, some in crazy colors, and one or two attached to restraining belts obviously fashioned for a woman. There were a ton of other things as well; some obvious like various whips and restraints, but others a little stranger like nipple clamps and a wire contraption looking like some demented dentist's pet creation.
Turning around to ask Phil to explain a couple really weird devices, Lacey noticed he'd wandered to the back faux stone wall, and seemed to be playing with some restraints suspended from a hanging chain. Striding across the marble floor, her high heeled boots sounding like angry gunshots, Lacey staggered and swayed with a tsunami of sudden dizziness. Principal Sweetling's drug—guaranteed to make a defiant bitch submissive—hit her like a mailed fist.
As the pseudo-dungeon began to spin, Lacey tottered forward in her red boots, and collapsed into Phil's waiting smile.
She barely noticed as Phil led her towards the hanging chain and slipped each of her wrists and ankles into the leather restraints.
Just before he buckled the last padded cuff, Paul noticed the faint rash of horizontal scars inside her right wrist. Her left one had scars as well. Suicide? No wonder she was such a submissive pussy. Beautiful or not, she probably had pretty low self esteem. Phil lifted the red ball gag to her lips just as Lacey opened her big sloe-eyes, stared at him, and giggled uncontrollably.
"Am I a very naughty girl, Mr. vice principal? I guess you'd better keep me after school and punish me!"
Grabbing her satiny bottoms with the flag emblazoned across her ass, Phil shrugged them down to her calves, wondering what it'd be like to take Miss Rodriguez in her classroom. Would she be as willing without the date-rape drug? After all, he was the hottest guy around. She always looked so yummy in those dainty dresses she wore, her books and lesson planner pressed up against her breasts—
"Philip, honey, what are all those rubber toys for? That long black one must be at least a f
oot and a half long!" Her dark eyes grew larger with wonder, and she giggled again, stopping abruptly to stare at Phil as he reached for a huge flesh-colored dildo.
"Phil, you don't use that, do you?" You don't need to, with me. I'm willing, you handsome hunk of male. "Oh my god, Philip!"
Phil turned around, holding the dildo in one hand, his naked probing cock in the other. Lacey decided she didn't really care which was bigger, as long as he didn't stick them in her. She'd pulled back against the restraints when he flashed his hardware, and realized for the first time she was really bound and helpless. As she squirmed, the effects of the drug began to bleed away, and all she wanted was to be free; free of this bondage, free of Phil.
"Philip, untie me please. You've had your little fun; now untie me. I've never liked B&D. Let me go—now!"
Reluctantly, Phil admitted to himself he'd screwed up. The drug had obviously passed its peak, and was beginning to wear off fast. He'd been so busy mentally jacking-off, he'd almost missed his crack at the real woman. He'd better gag Rodriguez after all. She seemed a lot less willing now.
In Phil's opinion, ball gags did ugly things to a pretty woman's mouth. He'd use something more basic. Pulling out his M-15 Dear-slayer folder, he snapped the blade open and deftly snipped away the side of Lacey's lilac silk undies. Yanking the torn panties off, he pulled them into a taut narrow rag, and forced the make-shift gag between Rodriguez's quivering lips. Tying the silk panties behind her black hair, Phil stood back to admire his prize. Damn, but she looked hot. God, helpless like this, he could do anything to her. It'd serve her right for teasing him. Of course, Monday morning, he'd have to face her in school; women were such constant gossips. Hey, she'd been virtually asking for it—looking so damned hot. Maybe if he just took a look at her boobs and gave them a squeeze or two.
Lacey really began to squirm when Phil yanked her silly costume off her breasts. Hot useless tears pumped out of her dark makeup streaked eyes. Bound and gagged, what could she do but submit to his fantasies. She'd trusted Phil, thought him a perfect gentleman at Constance Paine. She'd been hoping for a little romance, maybe even a little late evening love-making. She'd even dared hope he might be the one to finally see her for more than a pretty face and a nice rack. Maybe even fall in love. Now all she wanted to do was scratch his eyes out. The bastard! She felt like such a fool!
* * * *
Suddenly, the fake-dungeon's door burst open, and a costumed man stormed in. The handsome were-wolf cast a blue-eyed stare at Lacey hanging in her naked shame, —was that a look of real concern—strutted right up to Phil and shoved him back against the wall.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here, Weazel? I'd think it's fairly obvious the lady doesn't want to play your little...games. Get the fuck out of here—now! You're lucky I don't haul your ass off to—"
Big, bad, dominating Phil Weazel, unquestionably the hottest stud at Constance Paine Elementary, was gone before MacLeod finished roaring. Weazel had been sharp enough to realize he was out gunned, quaking in the presence of a real predator.
Jamie closed the door quietly, to give the humiliated woman some sort of privacy. Hearing her begin to dissolve into tears, he locked it; mostly to keep the curious gossips from poking their heads in. He tried to avoid looking at the nearly naked teacher; what he'd seen had nearly driven him wild. Now was not the time. He'd avoided looking at the moon before he'd come inside.
Stalking across the fake dungeon, his muscles rippling like those of a huge jungle cat, Jamie removed the spittle-soaked gag from the lady's mouth first. The gag looked like silky panties. Hers? They certainly bore her entrancing scent. Feeling light-headed from the heady musk, he absently pocketed her balled-up panties, and tried not to look at her slick berry-wine lips. So full, wet, and pouting. As if begging to be kissed.
Trying not to become too distracted by the Bonnets' kinky treasure-trove of sex toys, Jamie bent to free Lacey's ankles before she found her raspy voice.
"T-thank you. Oh my god, thank you s-so much, officer. I don't know what I would have done—"
Her graceful legs free, Jamie resisted the urge to stroke their smoothness, to part them, and run his tongue along the inside, up into her hair—he straightened like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar, and flashed his best bad boy grin. "It's James MacLeod. Locals call me Jamie. And you're welcome. Wish I'd found you sooner, Miss Rodriguez. I hope he didn't hurt you. If you want to press charges—" He moved closer to her, the primal attraction between them shooting actinic sparks.
Lacey closed her tear-blind eyes, wishing he hadn't seen her messy like this. She wanted an hour with her hair and makeup, maybe a week to get just the right dress...
She left her lush lips parted, waiting, hungering for his first kiss. When it didn't come, she opened her dark eyes and realized as he pressed his hard body into hers, he was busy undoing the restraints on both her wrists, seemingly totally oblivious to her urges. All she had to do was turn her face to his and...
She kissed him. A lop-sided slobber somehow ending on his lips with both of them going at it like hormone-crazed teenagers. She might be the teacher, but he was anything but a slow learner. Lacey found his lips pressed against hers, as his hands helped themselves to her tender and eager breasts.
"L-leave the one wrist bound, James. Please. It lets me pretend I'm still a helpless lady instead of a wanton slut. Oh God! Don't stop doing what you're doing to my nipples! You make me feel like I'm on fire!"
Somehow in the heat of their passion, Jamie bit Lacey. Not a little nip either, she swore she felt a pretty painful prick, like he had a chipped tooth with a very sharp edge or something. Funny, his smile had seemed full of very white, perfect teeth. Yet, she'd been bit, and one minute, the coppery taste of blood flooded her mouth, and then it was gone. Jamie must have licked it up or something, because within seconds the blood was all gone, and the last thing on her mind was complaining.
She ended up putting her Lady Liberty costume back on, and asking Jamie to bind her other hand. Somehow, strangely, completely at his mercy, being helpless didn't feel so terrifying.
He'd even retrieved the rest of her costume and her purse. When she'd shyly put on her glasses to check and make sure everything was still in her small purse, she'd tried to hide her face. Jamie had grabbed her hand and spun her around, saying he actually found her a turn-on with her glasses on. Guessed he'd always had a thing for school teachers, he'd chuckled.
God, she hoped it was so. Here was a man she could really fall for. He seemed so nice!
Once she was dressed and bound with both wrists suspended from the leather restraints overhead, he moved in on her like a predator ready to seize the bait. He was gorgeous; far more impressive than the body Phil had been so eager to flaunt at her. Taking hold of the satin crotch to her costume bottoms, he shoved it aside, and thrust himself inside. Instinctively, she lifted both red high-heeled boots, and wrapped her graceful legs around his tight ass. When she dug the heels into his cheeks like spurs, his thick cock drove deep inside her. Letting a little gasp of pleasure escape, she smiled through sudden happy tears. Her night wasn't turning out so badly after all.
Jamie grabbed his captive's plump ass, and pulled her tight against his loins as he slammed into her again and again, slow at first, but now with a steadily increasing tempo. God, she is so hot! Seems like a real sweetheart too. If only... His hands began to work across her generous breasts, gradually untying her bodice, and caressing her dark nipples to tender awareness. As the fleshy stalks rose high to flaunt their pleasure at his constant rubbing, he bent his shaggy head to suckle. God, she tastes so good...
They kept at it a while longer, rutting like two mated beasts, fitting perfectly into each other, touching kissing, licking, as though they'd been in love for years and knew each other's favorite spots. They came almost together, their hot thick cum flowing together, blending as though a portent of things yet to come. Lacey certainly hoped so, realizing she was half in
love already.
Too soon it was over; and as Jamie began to back away, she boldly mouthed, "Again," something shy Miss Rodriguez would never do. He smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling with something more than lust, and took her in his arms, tenderly. They made love again, slowly this time, with Miss Rodriguez free of any restraint, and yet, before they finished, Lacey felt herself truly bound.
As they dressed in silence, each sorry their brief time together was over, Jamie decided to take the risk, and ask to see Lacey again. He'd barely turned around to do so, entranced again by her innocent beauty, his awkward words jammed up in his throat, when a firm knocking began at the door, accompanied by jabbering voices. Making sure Miss Rodriguez was ready for guests, Jamie opened the door to the amused Bonnets' and Principal Sweetling's sour puss.
"Are you okay, Miss Rodriguez? Is this policeman behaving himself?"
"Yes sir—I'm fine. James—Officer MacLeod has been a very nice and proper gentleman. In fact, I think he's my super hero."
Sensing there was plenty of juicy gossip here, but both parties lips were sealed tighter than a holy sister's knees, the small group dispersed, dragging a scowling Sweetling away last.
"You are my hero, Jamie, you know."
"Aren't you being a little melodramatic now, Lacey?"
"So you do know my name."
"I'm a cop, remember? I'd really like to see you again, Lace. "
"I'd love that, James. How about tomorrow, my house. I live on—"
"I know where you live. The island's not that big. Seven, okay?"
"Make it seven-thirty. I'd really like to look nice for you after school. I'll probably spend at least an hour in front of my closet wondering what to wear."
"From what I remember, seeing you going into 'Constance Paine', you always look nice. "Black Swan" okay for wine?"
"How much more do you know about me, Mr. Policeman? If you weren't so damned good-looking, I'd say you've been stalking me. Can't a woman have any secrets?"