Raping the drunk teacher

author’s note : This story contains rape and violence. the author does not condone such behavior in real life.
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She was looking at me again, with those big hazel eyes which narrowed whenever they beheld me. Currently they were narrow enough to pass off as those of an angry cat. And as usual, I was the mouse.

“Completed the work ?” her voice was unusually low, another danger sign. I opened my notebook, its blank pages foretelling my doom. By this time she was at my desk, her heavy breasts just inches from my shoulder as she bent over me, peering with artificial interest into what evidently wasn’t a repository of wisdom. At other times I would have been acutely aware of the faint scent emanating from those heavy globes which threatened to meet my shoulder blades, but the situation was too dangerous. I shifted an inch, trying to not to add any new cause of irritation. It didn’t help much.

She picked it up, and waved it like a wand before the class, which was half trembling and half sniggering (depending on whether they’d done the work or not), and threw it onto the table, or rather into my girlfriend’s skirt. The equally scared girl picked it up and placed it timidly on the table. Hers was picked up, waved and slammed (into my lap) in turn. “Meet me after class, both of you.”

In a moment her gaze was lifted from us, and she was gone. I mouthed a few expletives as I smoothed the pages of my poor ignorant notebook, before managing a watery smile for the rest of the class. A hand tapped my shoulder from the back, “Hey man, seems like the Witch is on the warpath today. Better copy mine for now. You can give me a treat later.” It was Ranvir, choir leader and class topper. And my guardian angel.

Suffice it to say that the rest of the class, indeed the rest of the day went passed under the shadow of the evil one, who appeared at distressingly short intervals at all incovenient places, including the small tool shed where I was trying to console my girlfriend. Not that there was much to do, we could look forward to another scolding, followed by a grounding with more homework. Sometimes I counted the days till the last year of my school would end and I’d sign up for the merchant mavy like my dad did. It’d take me away from Ria (my girlfriend) and the other guys, but unless I drowned, I could always come back with a stuffed bank account and ask for her hand in marriage from her father (as I eventually did).That was in the future however. For now, we had to endure a none too adventurous or profitable extra hour with the least pleasant of our teachers.

Time moves remarkably fast when fate has set a date with you, and in no time we found ourselves standing before her room. Ria was trembling from head to foot. She usually wasn’t in trouble, being good in studies and a “good” girl to boot. If she had been any less of an angel, she’d have squarely blamed the fiasco on me. She didn’t, and I tried to show my appreciation by knocking. “Come in” a bored voice responded.

Using Ria as a human shield, I followed. ‘Close the door’ I complied. Normally people ask visitors, even students, to sit. But she didn’t bother. Instead, she continued to read some journal, while we stood like lambs that’d arrived early for slaughter. After a moment, I reached out and held Ria’s hand, lest she collapse from suspense. It seemed to calm her a little, and she even managed to give me a wan smile. My heart skipped a beat.

It skipped another as Ria pulled away, her body stiffening as I felt a feline gaze upon me. She was looking at me with those eyes again, perhaps contemplating what to do. “Your copies please” It took me by surprise, and by the time I was fidgeting with my bag Ria had already handed hers. She flicked the pages lazily, her hazel irises travelling over them without reading anything. Unfortunately for her, Ria’s copy was on average more complete than mine, and except for that day’s fateful class, she couldn’t find much to complain about. Infact, had she not been a new teacher, she may well have not bothered to call Ria : finding fault with her was a tough job. It also took sometime, as she was hell bent on finding fault. The net result of this was to scare the poor girl to the point of fainting, while making me feel a little pissed at this unjust trial. By the time she finished, Ria’s pretty face had gone white, her face sporting a look akin to one being led to the gallows. Without a word, she took back her notebook and put it in her bag. I gave her a thumbs up below the level of the desk, before handing in mine.

To my credit (and relief), the first half of the notebook, corresponding to the classes of the earlier teacher, was relatively complete, and even she couldn’t find fault. She then found her own class’ notes, and her expression turned. Looking up, she gave a false smile “do you find my classes difficult ?”

“N-no ma’m” Ria stammered, causing my hand to poke her before she wrecked my case. Giving as big a smile as possible, I spoke at the speed of my heart beat “Not much ma’m, but you see the topic is a bit difficult. Plus I was a little unwell in the last-”

“Enough! You will complete the work, and whatever isn’t there, will have to be done twice over.The second copy in a separate notebook, which I will check. And….”

She took out a notepad, much like a doctor’s. Our school had dispensed with the system of school diaries, instead using this method coupled with phone calls directly to the guardian/parent’s number. It was now my turn to tremble a little, as she began to scribble something. But as she began the third line, somethind buzzed, and she jumped. It turned out that she had kept her mobile in the folds of her saree, and the gadget had afforded us some comic relief. Before I could open my jaws in laughter however, she had resumed her composure. Tearing off the sheet and throwing it in the bin, she began to write afresh.

But now the phone began to buzz insistently, forcing her to abandon the judgment pad and pick up the call. The caller apparently was quite agitated, as the Witch listened with deepening creases on her forehead, before adding a “I’ll be there.” and hanging up. She stood up with a flustered look on her face. “What are you staring at me for ? Get out!” The pad lay forgotten. We both rushed out, our jailor locking the door behind us.

The school was deserted, and after giving an explanation to the gatekeeper, the two of us, with the Witch hot on our heels, walked out of the gates. A car was waiting outside, and dived into the backseat. The car sped off, leaving us amid its fumes. For a moment neither of us moved, she being too stunned to act and I hoping the witch was truly gone. She was, the car having disappeared round the bend. That left us alone, and my girl took the opportunity to exhale after an eternity. I sighed, realizing belatedly that her preoccupation had saved me a grounding. Taking Ria’s hand, I began walking towards my house (and hers, we living in the same society).

“That was close eh ? Another moment and I’d be carrying my arrest warrant home”

Ria wasn’t usually the most optimistic of people, and she was unusually crestfallen today. I changed my carefree tone to a more concerned one, trying to persuade her not to tell her parents, that nothing really had gone wrong. By the time I had had any amount of success, we were at the entrance of the complex, and I had to let go of her hand lest some moral policewoman protest. Soon we parted at her house’s entrance, and I walked the remaining distance, making a mental note to ask Ranvir for another favour.

My parents weren’t home when I reached the door. My dad’s in the civil services, mom is a physician. Which means we have plenty of money but little time. Atleast for me. I parked my bag on the sofa and proceeded to raid the fridge. Yet before I could open it, a sticky note caught my attention. Attached in a hurry, it merely read that I should be ready for a formal occasion by 7 PM. The remainder of the note detailed my clothing. I silently swore, knowing the damage this worthless farce of a social occasion would do to my prospects of avoiding a teacher’s note the next day.

As I pondered over how to avoid this predicament, I discovered that the larder was in fact empty. My mom had had a series of night shifts and me and dad had survived on takeaways. Today he had told me he’d dine at office (some dignitary being honoured) and I should bring something on the way home. I hadn’t.

My mind echoing the curses of my tummy, I pawed through the pile of leaflets and called KFC. I checked my wallet, made the order, and went off to shower. The delivery came just as I was putting on my shorts. Rushing down topless, I opened the door took the order, made the payment and fell upon the food instantly. By the time I was done, another half hour had passed and I just had three in which to get my work done. No point calling in Ranvir now, I’d have to do what I could. With my stomach satiated and my mind quite the opposite, I collected the relevant stuff on the dining table and got to work.

I won’t say I’m terrible in the subject, rather I’m bad at meeting deadlines.