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Teaching her a lesson 013
Not knowing what else to do, I set the spray down on my desk and took a step away. That was it. I was done. All that was left was to see if they'd blackmail me, or simply go for the throat and end my life as I knew it right here, right now. Abbie approached her sister, though it was clear she was apprehensive about Taylor's uncharacteristic nonchalance about all of this. Still, she was curious, pulling her sister's arm up where she could see it. It was still wet, almost dripping with how much I'd overdone it. Abbie sniffed, and when she didn't experience any pain or discomfort, sniffed closer. "What even is this shi--" With reflexes I didn't know I had, I pounced. One hand clamped on the back of Abbie's head and the other under Taylor's arm. The two were pressed together until there was contact, then held there. Abbie squealed and then flailed in shocked alarm. Worried she'd start screaming, I let go a few moments later. Abbie immediately spat and sputtered, wiping her mouth on her s
Teaching her a lesson 014
"What's her problem?" asked Taylor. "Hush." But what was Abbie's problem? Was it that she had ingested the Serenex? How much had she taken? Abbie had consumed enough of it to comment on the taste. Hmm. I retrieved the Serenex and, sure enough, the lengthy warning label had a bolded prohibition against ingesting the substance. However, it was also accompanied by warnings not to get it in the eyes, not to use more than the prescribed dose, to only use it in accordance with state and federal law, and a hundred other cover-your-ass statements. There was nothing about the reason for any of these warnings. Although it seemed pretty obvious that a chemical that affected the brain when it made contact with the skin would only have a stronger effect if it was ingested. Well, bookmark that for now. I had a bigger problem at the moment. Simply put, I had just openly dosed two students with a chemical weapon. The girls even knew the name of it, and eventually, they would snap out of the effects
Teaching her a lesson 015
The younger Stern wasn't lacking in confidence, that was for sure. Even aside from having the guts to pose half-naked in the first place, she'd festooned them with quotes - lyrics, I was guessing - boasting of her hotness, sex appeal, and unattainability. Her expressions dripped condescension, arrogance, or both. Pretty nauseating stuff, really. But once I got past that, my eyes almost popped out of my head. There were dozens of lewd photos in here. None of them were fully nude, and she never did a bottomless pic, quite. But I'd gotten a lot of good peeks at her nipples, often merely partially concealed behind hands or hair or a translucent bra. Wide and pink-red and almost angry-looking. Her tan covered the whole thing - no bikini top in the tanning bed for her. Her ass did have tan lines, right along her panty line. But it looked like she'd come across a thong bikini earlier this spring that she really couldn't get enough shots off. She was at a pool somewhere, and it looked indoors
Teaching her a lesson 016
Whatever I had done was working a lot better on Abbie than it was on Taylor. I didn't know what to do. Taylor was suspicious, accusatory, but by the same token, she was still sitting there calmly, her most boisterous resistance a slight elevation in volume. But would her passivity last? Maybe I was safe, maybe, but that was an awfully big risk to take. "Your sister is fine. And so are you. Understand? Nothing bad happened in here today. Say it, Taylor." After a moment, she shrugged. Fucking hell, that jiggle. "Nothing bad happened in here today. Apparently." Did that statement mean anything? Her present apathy made it so difficult to predict long-term animosity. There was no telling whether getting away with Monday had been a fluke or a part of Serenex's intended effect. Their product advertised its ability to suppress an unruly mob, but not to make them permanently well-behaved citizens. Would Taylor keep playing mum? There was no certainty, and standing around wondering wasn't g
Teaching her a lesson 017
Taylor Stern might be the queen bitch of the senior class, young and desirable and cocky well past the point of fault. But as long as my Serenex was in her system, I could knock her over with a feather. I may or may not be able to control what she did tomorrow, but right here, right now, for once in her miserable life, the little bitch was going to do as I said. "Do you need me to help?" I pressed as she kept hesitating. "No," she said quickly. "No, I got it." Last semester, I'd realized she was copying vocab quiz answers off of the boy next to her. She'd denied it, of course. While most students would acquiesce to a deserved rebuke at having been caught cheating red-handed, this was Taylor Stern. She'd never admitted guilt, even after being assigned two nights' detention for her persistence in lying about it. Even tried to suggest the honor roll student might have been copying off of her. So I'd whipped up a second version of the quiz, one just for her, visually similar enough to
Teaching her a lesson 018
She eased the shorts down an inch. Two inches. I could see the separation between her mons pubis and the tops of the thighs surrounding it. "I mean it! Really, I do. Please, Mr. Canon! Don't make me take my shorts off. Please! I'll never tell a soul!" And like that, I was having an idea. Mr. Canon? I know you like my big tits. Come on, let me fuck you with them. Does that sound good? Yeah, just wrap these titties around your huge fat cock, just rub and squeeze you until you come all over my fucking face. Please? Mr. Canon, I'm begging you, please, just let me titty fuck you. Give me an A, and you can have these double D's. Please? God, I'm so horny, I just want my titties fucked so baaaad! The video ended, immediately looping around to the beginning. There she was, on her knees in the girls' restroom, recording herself begging me to fuck her tits in exchange for a grade. Abbie, I knew, had been in the next stall, waiting to be herded out to their car like a wayward lamb. She ought
Teaching her a lesson 019
Deep breaths. Deeeeep breaths.So that wasn't working. The garage door creaked shut behind me. And behind that...The night was almost perfect aside from that. Mid-sixties, a gentle breeze to keep the mosquitoes at bay, crickets chirping, stars shining. It was the sort of night that made me miss my childhood, camping out in the woods by my parents' house, my friends and I pretending to be trailblazers braving the wilderness, yet conveniently in range to restock our supplies of junk food and flashlight batteries. Then, the worst thing I'd ever done had been hiding around the corner on the stairs and scaring my sister so badly she'd peed her pants; the hardest decision that had lain before me was whether or not to join band once we started middle school.Oh, what a difference a couple of decades and a canister of black market neuroinhibitor made.With a sigh, I made for the garage. My car was in the driveway now, the Stern girls' in the garage. I prayed nobody had seen her in the short
Teaching her a lesson 020
One afternoon last summer, one of my students, Miguel, had stopped by my house randomly to say hello. His family lived in the neighborhood and he'd been walking by, he said. Miguel had always been a nice kid, nobody I'd ever had any trouble with, but from the moment he showed up on my doorstep, there was this nervous tingle in the back of my mind about that tiny remote possibility of someday sitting in a courtroom trying to reassure a jury about a no-witness encounter with a student in my home. Miguel hadn't made it past the front steps, and that was a student who had never given me any trouble a day in his life before or since. Now I was walking into my living room with the Stern sisters, one fresh from being kidnapped in a trunk and the other obviously compromised by my indoctrination attempt. In fact, as we walked into the living room, I saw I'd even left Taylor's video playing muted on the screen. God, I was stupid. If that knock on the doorhad been the police, I'd already be boa
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