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Teaching her a lesson 169
I was staring at the door, the after-image of Taylor's departure burned into my eyes. When she spoke again, however, I realized something was amiss from the muffled sound of her voice. "She said, 'I am a stupid, easy, flat-chested cocksucking whore,' right? I think I heard that correctly." I turned. Tabitha was at the board, dry erase marker in hand, writing those very words along the bottom of the board. "What on earth are you doing?" "Huh? She said to... you know. Write." She gestured to where I am a stupid, easy, was already enscribed in red marker. "A hundred seems like a lot of times. Is it OK if I stay after school, or should I come back to finish in the morning?" "You don't have to write that!" I snapped. "I do whatever Taylor tells me to do," she replied with chilling casualness, and resumed writing. "Though that goes for you too, obviously Mr. Canon." Still trying to wrap my head around what she was saying, I glanced down at the rolled up paper in my hands. There at the
Teaching her a lesson 170
Social media was blocked by the school internet server (plus it was pretty hypocritical to chastise them so many times for being distracted by it if I was going to do the same), so that was out. My work laptop was a simple machine, but it had a browser. Out of options, I pulled up a news site and started catching up on the world. Not surprisingly, it seemed little had improved. I was in the middle of an article on summer travel trends when I fell asleep at my desk. The second worst thing was that when you fall asleep sitting upright, in a place you know you shouldn't fall asleep in, you wake up in that moment where your chin slipped off your fist and you have that tenth of a second falling dream. Even if you had managed to escape notice dozing off, your sudden jolt to consciousness cannot be missed. The worst thing, of course, was that I fell asleep in the middle of a final exam. For over an hour. "Ummmgbummng!" I stammered as I started myself awake. Laughter rippled through the
Teaching her a lesson 171
She ran a hand back and forth across my smooth, bare desktop suggestively. "A little cold, but I bet we could warm it up." "Look, I appreciate you're in the mood, but we really shouldn't. How's it going to look if Officer Barbour is standing watch outside my room all the time?" "She watches the halls, like, constantly. Not as if the woman needs to stand right outside your door. And 'all the time,' really? We have barely twenty-four hours left in the school year. She'd have to stand right outside your room for all of them for it to seem weird to anybody." "Tabitha..." "Look. I'm not trying to pressure you, Mr. Canon. You can say no and it won't hurt my feelings." Her button nose wrinkled momentarily. "Not much, anyway. But I'd like to, and I think you would like it, too, if you let yourself." My star pupil rose from her desk and gracefully spun around the back of it to position herself on the edge of my desk. In doing so, she confirmed that she definitely was not wearing any panti
Teaching her a lesson 172
"Yeah, you like that, little teacher's pet slut," I grunted, barely aware of what I was saying. Tabitha nodded for me, but even now, holding on for dear life as she was fucked harder than her young body ever had been, that big, sexy brain of hers was working. I hadn't meant to be instructing her, but evidently our student-teacher connection was so strong that being in this place, it kicked in automatically. "Oh, wow, you look really nice today, Mr. Canon," she said in an almost off-puttingly chipper voice. Except after another half dozen pumps, I realized that it was only out of place because that was her normal voice. Maybe slightly exaggerated, but the utterance rang all too familiar, especially in the confinement of these four particular four walls. "Have you been working out, Mr. Canon?" she asked. Oh fuck yes. This. God, how had I not realized I'd needed this. I redoubled my dicking, spurred on by her on-going flattering. "You're one of my favorite teachers, Mr. Canon." I squ
Teaching her a lesson 173
It was going after nine when I threw in the towel for the day. I'd gotten through about three quarters of the grading, including the entirety of my junior exams. The sun had only set an hour ago, but it felt like ages. Arriving and leaving in the dark was usually a feature of the winter months in teaching, not the summer, but such was the life of an educator. Other years, I packed up my fat stack of exams and trudged home to grade in comfort, but I was too accessible there. Everybody knew where I was and had proven far too casual about popping in whenever they felt like it. Much as I was enamored of my women, I had my hands full with responsibilities that night. Tabitha's lunch sex was more than enough to tide me over for the day. So I turned on some music, turned down the AC, and grinded through the stacks at my desk. By and large, the scores were promising. It was a comfort knowing my brief termination hadn't damaged their performance on exams. I hadn't realized how much of my anx
Teaching her a lesson 174
Canon English 12 Period 6 2 June, 2020 "There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion." - R.W. Emerson The essay from which this is excerpted, "Self Reliance," might be the only old-timey thing we ever read in class that actually spoke to me, so I am going to quote the hell out of it. I didn't really get it at first, another lame nonfiction piece my teacher tried to make us read. When I heard that quote, though, and once I followed what Emerson was saying, it was like he was in my soul. I think he's been in there for a longer time than I would have ever imagined. When I was a little, I was big. The worst part about it wasn't being out of shape or unhealthy. (Those were bad, though. I dreaded gym class so hard.) No, the worst thing was the way people treat you differently. After all, everybody knows that little girls are supposed to be thi
Teaching her a lesson 175
One day freshman year, we had this sub. I forget his name now, and he doesn't work here any more after this incident when he had Abbie in two classes in one day that I won't get into. Anyway, our class was being rowdy, and he got nastier and nastier with everybody, even us kids who weren't doing anything wrong. I was getting stressed out and plus I really had to pee, so I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom. He laughed. He literallylaughed. He told me that the class had given up bathroom privileges because of how we were behaving. I said it wasn't fair; he said he didn't care what I thought, and then he got distracted by somebody doing something bad again. I sat there and squirmed in my seat and started asking myself what Abbie would do if she were in my shoes. So I stood up and walked out. Once I peed, I was too afraid to go back, so I didn't return for the rest of the period. That was how easy it was. Nobody chased me. He got my name, or maybe he just remembered me, and
Teaching her a lesson 176
Henry David Thoreau, inCivil Disobedience, which we read around the same time, let himself be thrown in jail instead of paying some stupid taxes for some stupid preacher. But while he was in there, he said that because he was in there by his own choice, living under his own terms, he was really the free man, while everybody else was a prisoner. Like sure, I kept eating right, working out enough to keep the pounds where I wanted them, but now I was only doing that because I liked looking good for my own reasons. Then there's all these other girls chained to their treadmills and starving themselves so they'll fit in a dress or get asked out by some boy or whatever, and if they weren't so disgusting and smug about it, I might feel bad for them. I don't. I think that's part of why I don't get along with many people. Yeah, I can be a lot to handle, but also because I don't have patience or respect for these prisoners, paying their taxes, worshipping their shadows. It's why I gave my Engli
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