SCHOOL-TEACHER LESBIAN RAPE

copyright: Lesley Tara, 2009

The young school-teacher fled desperately down the corridor, the flat slapping of her shoes echoing sharply in the silence. Panting for breath, she ran past deserted classrooms, none of which offered any hope of refuge or escape – she was on the third floor of a long block, and even if a window would open far enough, it was too high to jump. Tearful and gasping, she looked back over her shoulder at the sounds of closing pursuit, the raucous whoops of her hunters. Three black teenage girls appeared around the corner, running with an easy lope, barely having broken into a sweat. They laughed jeeringly when they saw her small form leaning against a doorway, exhausted and straining for breath. The teacher realised at that moment that it was hopeless – not only could she not out-run them, but they had been playing with her, herding her like a sheep to the pen. They had cut her off at every chance of escape, forcing her ever deeper and higher into the empty school buildings, so that now she was completely trapped, on the top floor and in a hallway that was a dead end. Still the instinct to flee dies hard, and she pushed herself away from the wall and staggered, rather than ran, to the furthest end of the corridor. Her attackers closed in on their target, more serious now as the reckoning approached. As the teacher backed, sobbing and pleading, into the empty classroom at furthest end, they crowded in around her, and seized their prey.

‘How had it come to this?’, thought Jenny Gibson in fear and distress, ‘Dear God! help and save me now!’ She had tried calling out at the start of the assault, but a swift punch to the stomach had left her gasping for breath. Then, when she had first run from them, she yelled loudly for help. There was usually a security guard on patrol at this time, but there was no one in the block – the bitches had timed her capture carefully. As she was at the start of her teaching career and had little experience, Jenny could not be too choosy about where she worked – so she had taken this job in a high school on the edge of the inner city, where about two-thirds of the pupils were black. It was not the roughest or worst of schools, and after seven months in post she had no longer worried – and had, she realised now, become complacent and made herself vulnerable to the sharks that swam just below the school’s surface, waiting for a helpless victim to snatch and drag under.

Jenny was in her early twenties, white and middle-class, not very tall at five feet four inches, and quite pretty – not outstanding, but well above merely average in her looks. Her hair was light brown but she dyed it blonde, and she had nice brown eyes and a good complexion. Jenny’s breasts were a jutting triangular shape and amply filled her 30C bras, and she had a trim waist which was often accentuated by a tight skirt waist-band or a belt. However, her best feature was definitely her ass – it had always been cute and round and bouncy, but without the slightest suggestion of flab or fat. She liked to wear tight skirts, even pencil cut, or well-tailored trouser suits, but this time the tapered knee-length black skirt and the two-inch heels on the matching black boots had been no help at all, restricting her movements as she ran and slowing her down.

Probably she could not have escaped her fate anyway. The gang of three black girls who were about to overpower her were all much larger and stronger than she was, and ten times meaner. Although they were pupils at the high school, they were all seventeen years old and were star performers in the athletics and sports teams – one was a sprinter, one a javelin thrower, one a tennis player, and all three were in the basketball team. They were between five foot ten and six foot in height, and built in proportion – not over-muscled, but fit, strong, sleek, confident and aggressive. They didn’t lack feminine curves or attraction – indeed, that had been the problem, the lure that had caught her, landed like her a fly baits the hook for the fish.

The ringleader of three, Marcella, was in one of Jenny Gibson’s classes for modern American history. Her striking height, her glossy black skin, her shapely figure and her overall beauty had caught the young teacher’s eye from the start, but she had made very sure at the school to clamp down on her feelings, never to show the sexual interest that she felt. Jenny’s secret was that she was a lesbian, and the secret within the secret was that her fantasies often revolved around seducing her more attractive pupils – and especially the black and Asian girls. Of course, fear of losing her job – even, in the case of the younger girls, going to prison – deterred her from ever acting on her fantasies. They remained a matter for masturbatory tangles in the sheets in the loneliness of her studio apartment or, on her occasional weekends in the state capital when she cruised the lesbian bars and tried to get picked up by the youngest and most feminine woman available (which she managed fairly often, being a cute and attractive package herself). Sometimes on these occasions Jenny would close her eyes in the moments of approaching orgasm and pretend that it was a girl from one of her classes who was going down on her, like sweet sixteen-year old Kishiko with her small breasts and boyish slim hips, or curvy redhead Macy-Jane with the ass that looked so hot in tight white pants.

On this fateful Tuesday, warm in the late spring, the last class of the afternoon had been the one including Marcella. When the young black woman strode into the room, laughing with one of her friends, she had almost taken Jenny’s breath away. The black babe was scantily dressed even for a teenager in this neighbourhood on a hot day – very brief and tight cut-off denim shorts, with a seam that must be riding up into her pussy cleft and rubbing it with every movement, and a sleeveless, low cut, halter-neck shirt which showed most of her breasts. These were large – easily D cup – and firm, needing no support; it was obvious that she was not wearing a bra, and her nipples were poking through the thin cotton top. Her long shapely legs ended in white sporty ankle-socks and a smart pair of trainers. Jenny took a gulp, and tried to ignore the pooling wetness in her panties – but that became almost impossible, for instead of taking her usual place at the rear of the room (where Jenny knew Marcella indulged in sardonic commentary with her friends during the class, insolently just below the level of hearing, almost daring Jenny to challenge her about it), the black girl took the desk in the very middle of the front row. As Jenny began the class, rising to her feet in sudden uncomfortableness and feeling the need to move around, Marcella sat forwards in her chair, appearing to be interested, but at the same time affording Jenny a very clear view down the front of her cleavage. Jenny tried to tune this out and carry on, but her eyes kept coming back to the sight of the ripe young breasts, visible almost to the nipples.

At the end of class Jenny was relieved – and so aroused she wanted only to get out of the school and go home to jerk herself off. However, as the other pupils filed out of the room, Marcella approached and asked if she could talk to her about something. Jenny agreed – it was the first time the tall black girl had ever shown an interest and she wanted to encourage it, and besides if Marcella – one of the coolest kids at the school, a real trend-setter – liked Jenny’s classes, her status and popularity as a teacher would go up. So when Marcella then explained that she had to see the athletics coach for a few minutes, by prior appointment, but if she came back in fifteen minutes would Miss Gibson please still be there, Jenny readily agreed.

When twenty minutes had passed, with the school now emptied of its pupils and staff, Jenny gave a shrug and decided Marcella had either been detained or had forgotten, and it would have to wait for another day. In fact, no such thing had happened, and there was no appointment with the sports coach – everything from the clothes Marcella had put on that morning to her after-class request had been carefully planned, so as to leave the cute Miss Gibson alone, defenceless and vulnerable. Then Jenny heard laughing voices coming along the corridor – one of them, she was sure, being Marcella’s – and in her innocence she was pleased, and put down the jacket and briefcase that she had been about to take home. The door of her classroom swung open, and three tall and arrogantly confident black girls swept in. Marcella was at the apex of their wedge, flanked on the left by Cerise (a bit less full in the bust, but taller, and with long curling black hair falling to the middle of her back) and on the right by Darby (the tennis player and most muscular of the three, but still attractive with her wide nose and full lips that Mick Jagger might envy). Cerise wore a short and very tight scarlet mini-skirt, with a contrasting navy-blue figure-hugging sweater on top; Darby had white boots, black hold-up stockings of which the tops were visible under her extremely short white skirt, and a short black tube top which left both her midriff and her shoulders bare – apart from the thin straps of the underwired black bra that she was wearing underneath it. They were a powerfully sexy trio, exuding sensuality but also menace and danger. Jenny couldn’t help taking a slight gulp as they eyed her, and the teacher backed against her desk.

‘Well, howdy, Miss Gibson,’ said Marcella with a slight sneer, ‘how nice of you to be ready and waiting for us.’ ‘What do you mean,’ stammered the young teacher, trying for a tone of authority and failing dismally. ‘We know about you, Miss Lezzie,’ suddenly said Cerise, looking avidly at the white woman, ‘oh, yeah – we know!’ ‘What?? What do you mean?’ gasped Jenny, shocked and now feeling the first stirrings of real fear – but for her reputation and career, not yet for her body. Marcella suggestively cupped her own breasts in her skimpy halter neck, and sneered at the dumbfounded teacher: ‘Liked looking at these, didn’t you, cunt!’, and turning to her henchwomen, she added: ‘The bitch couldn’t take her eyes off them all lesson!’ ‘Well,’ said Darby with a fake Southern drawl, as she reached out to cup and squeeze one of Marcella’s melon-shaped tits, ‘Ah can see why, honey-chile, ah can surely see why!’

Marcella’s demeanour then changed, as she swung round to confront the much smaller and slighter school-teacher. ‘This is the way it works, bitch – we’re gonna gang-bang you, here and now, and afterwards whenever we want – and you’re gonna take it and like it!’ ‘No!’ protested Jenny in a hoarse, shocked whisper, ‘Stop this at once, or I’ll call the police – touch me, and you’ll end up in jail!’ Jenny’s one attempt to recover control over the situation lasted only for a second, as in response Marcella slapped her across the face, whilst her two accomplices grabbed Jenny’s arms and held her trapped between them. Jenny was shocked and half-stunned – never before had she been struck by a pupil, and she hardly knew what to do. Then she gave a half-scream, half-gurgle, for Marcella had reached forwards and grasped one breast, whilst Darby had grabbed the other – and the cruel black bitches twisted them in opposite directions, before pinching hard on her nipples. Jenny shrieked in outrage and pain, and then with redoubled frantic panic, as Marcella thrust her hand up the young teacher’s skirt and gripped her crotch. ‘Your fucking pussy belongs to us now, you lezzie slut – and don’t you forget it!’ Jenny was horrified – women didn’t do this sort of thing to each other, women just didn’t do this sort of thing – it was male, violent and hateful, and just for a moment in her fright and anger the thought crossed her mind that these mad bitches had maybe been taking too many steroids, which had made them mentally (though clearly not physically) into men. Why else would they want to rape her, to hurt and humiliate her? Jenny’s quiet suburban upbringing and her vanilla sex-life meant she was quite unprepared for anything of this sort, indeed could barely imagine it – but this was no fantasy, it was down-and-dirty reality.

For just a moment, the black gang released their hold on the ashen-faced young white woman. Jenny seized her opportunity, shoving aside Cerise (who was between her and the door), and making a dash for freedom. In a second, the black girls were after her, and suddenly Darby appeared from a parallel corridor to cut in front of the young teacher, closing her off from the main entrance hallway. Then the pursuit began, hounding Jenny from corridor to stairs to landing, herding her upwards and away from safety, into the most remote and quiet parts of the empty echoing building. It had all been a game – in fact, they had deliberately given her the chance to run, knowing that her small size, awkward clothes and general unfitness made her an easy catch, and wanting to get her into a place where the chance of interruption or rescue was nil.

So now, in the upstairs classroom, the three black vultures closed in on their prey – a victim whose resistance had largely been broken in the pursuit, and who now had little strength, physical or mental, with which to resist her fate. Marcella pushed her face up close to Jenny’s, and hissed menacingly at her: ‘You ain’t gonna be tellin’ anyone about this, you cunt, becos’ if you do – you’ll be the one with her ass in jail, getting fucked over by the dykes and guards, not us!’ The frightened school teacher gaped at the domineering black girl: ‘What … what do you mean?’ she quavered. Marcella’s explanation was brutal – they had ‘babes’ in the years below who would accuse Miss Gibson of coercing them into having sex with her, and there would be witnesses to back this up. Jenny was stunned, but tried to rally and countered with: ‘you won’t be able to explain my bruises that way – I’ll go to the police, and it’ll be obvious I was attacked!’ Marcella shook her head, and replied that they would say that she is a submissive masochist who threatened them into doing kinky things to her, and that the younger girls would confirm this.