Paul Gable
Teacher bound for torture
CHAPTER ONE
Susan Evans let her head fall back, her long blonde hair sweeping over her full, naked ass. How the rusty chain links chafed her wrists, rubbing back and forth against her flesh until the sobbing woman thought the iron would cut through to the bone! Tears blurred her vision while her heart skipped yet another beat. How horrid! How absolutely horrible this scene was. Never would she have thought that teaching high school could lead to this!
Again Susan tried adjusting her body, the pulling ache in her shoulders making comfort an impossibility. But the chains were unrelenting. Holding her body captive, stretched downward from the basement ceiling, the links continued to press harshly into her wrists, keeping her toes at least three inches from the cement floor.
"You don't look so all fuckin' high and mighty now, Miss Evans!" The harsh male voice mocked her.
Susan raised her head, shaking several stray strands of hair from her face. Standing there with a hellish grin was Jack Harrison, one of her senior teens. He had been nothing but trouble, she remembered, from the first day he'd strolled into her American History class late. But never would she have believed that he was capable of this.
"Yeah, hangin' around there all nice and naked, she sure don't look like she's gonna put us on report or nothin'. Too bad, some of the other guys can't see the bitch now," said Clint Jackson, Jack's buddy.
"She sure don't look like she's havin' a good time," Jack commented, scratching his chin.
"Yeah. Maybe there's somethin' we can do to help the slut out."
Susan shook her head, feeling sure something had popped in her shoulder. The muscles were pressing against her dampened flesh as she surveyed the two teens below her. They were sneering up at her, their handsome faces contorted with sadism and rage. Clint's black hair hung rakishly over one eye as he reached down and began unbuckling his black leather belt.
The woman drew in a sharp breath, feeling something like a tingle of excitement rush through her body. Jack saw the move and nodded approvingly, reaching down and cupping his fingers around his cock. Susan watched unblinkingly as both teens became aroused at her naked, hanging, helpless body. She folded one leg modestly over the other, trying to hide her cunt.
But she was helpless to hide herself just as she had been helpless when Jack and Clint had forced their way into her home. They had broken in through the bedroom window, jarring her from her early sleep, tearing the covers from her. How she had trembled naked in bed, clutching the top sheet, then feeling it torn from her. Clint – or was it Jack? – had had a knife, holding it pressed against her jugular vein. Sleep quickly fled her as she heard the teens telling her how they had had it with her discipline. Now, they said, they were going to teach her a lesson of their own.
"Yeah, looks like that butt can be whipped up bad… nice, white, round ass," Clint said, sucking in his lower lip and biting down hard.
Susan focused her rounded blue eyes on him, a pulse leaping at her throat. She watched him with mounting, terror and – could she admit it to herself – growing excitement. Clint had pulled the two-inch wide belt from his Levi's, folded it in two. At times he snapped the halves together, creating a sound that reminded Susan of a gunshot.
Tilting her head back, the woman looked up at the long links of rusty chain that rose to the wooden beams overhead. The teens had brought everything. Having pulled her naked from her bed, they had shaved her through the house, laughing at her threats, then her pleas. She had nearly fallen down the steep wooden basement stairs twice as they hit her, slapping her ass, her thighs. They told her that all she needed was a good hard fuck.
Susan ignored most of their threats, feeling that perhaps this would be some kind of high school prank that would end in a moment. It was only when Jack had slipped the chain around her wrists and hauled her off the cold cellar floor that Susan had realized how serious her situation was.
"Gonna beat ass. That's our way of makin' sure people toe the line," Clint said, rubbing the cool black leather against her thighs.
Susan shuddered at the smooth touch. She kept her legs folded one over the other, hiding her pussy from their excited eyes. Oh, oh, oh! These were her students, teens who she was supposed to teach!
"Yeah, we don't run around behind peoples backs and report 'em just 'cause they're doin' somethin' that's fun."
"Too bad, teach. Now your ass is gonna pay for your mouth bein' so stupid," Jack laughed.
Susan could hear her pulse roaring in her ears. Her fingers curled, the nails creasing her sweaty-damp palms. Looking around, the woman saw the once-familiar items in her basement – the washer/dryer combination, the water heater, the wash basin. They all loomed like demons as she hung from the rafters. Then she felt Clint's hands rubbing up against her right asscheek.
"Man, that's a nice ass. She always wore those fuckin' dresses where you couldn't see a Goddamned thing. Not like Allison with her damned tits hangin' out all over the place."
"She's got good tits too, man. Can suck on them nips all night long – after we get through primin' 'er up with the belt," Jack added.
Susan did all she could to be still and calm.
What could they do to her? They were only scaring her, frightening her so she would relent and tell them how sorry she was for having reported them to the principal.
"Jack, Clint. Please, let me down. If you do, I won't tell anyone about this. I promise," Susan began, trying to keep her shaky voice even and calm.
"Yeah, sure."
"I promise," she said again, trying to sound sincere. "I know I upset you by reporting you to the authorities about that… that incident. But I'll do everything I can to change that. Just let me down."
Susan let out a low, even sigh. A tremor rippled through her cunt, tickling and tingling her cunt. She felt the muscles tense, blood slowly filling her cunt labes. A slight draft ruffled through the whisper-soft hairs protecting her cunt.
"Too late for that," Clint muttered.
Once again the blond athlete crossed her vision. There was cruelty in his face now cruelty mixed with incredible lust. Jack wore the same expression, the teen also having slipped off his belt. He held the buckled end loosely in one hand, then tightened his grip until Susan could see his knuckles whitening. Susan's arms tensed, her wrists rattling against the restraining chains. Her tits rolled against one another.
"Oh man, man, teach, that's the way, that's the way I want you to act," Clint said, enjoying the woman's mounting terror.
"No, no, let me go! Clint, Jack! You don't know what you're doing. If you think you're in trouble, you don't know the meaning of the word."
It was the wrong thing to say and Susan realized it the moment those unfortunate words left her lips. Clint's face darkened, his lips curling down in a frown. Susan closed her eyes, thinking of kicking them with her unbound feet. But that surely would only enrage him further. She had to play their game until they released her.
It was the first blow and Susan doubled up, her knees jerking up to the rounded bottoms of her tits. How the pain bruised through her belly, rattling her brain! Clint had swung his doubled fist into her stomach, the knuckles turning her flesh black and blue. If she had had any doubts as to the seriousness of this event, Clint's killing blow had ended it. Her arm muscles knotted as she tried climbing up the chain. Bright blue and yellow explosions popped in front of her eyes as the woman struggled to breathe.
"Ohhhhhhh!"
Susan gagged with pain, her eyes dulling. A flash of hatred made her nostrils flare.
"Yeah, man, she's gonna be right fine by the time we get done workin' over her body. I wanna fuck her ass first," Clint said, rubbing his cock through his Levi's.