Teacher’s Lesson

Janice Baker was under the kitchen sink, on her back, putting together a plumbing connection that had come apart. She heard a voice say “Hi” and was puzzled but not yet frightened. She put the wrench down and slid out. Erik was standing there. He was one of her students in Stamfield High School – a boy she’d had a most unpleasant experience with the day before, during English class. She had been seated at her desk and was leaning forward, checking test papers, when she heard Erik say, in an undertone, “Look at that set on her, will you?” That was when she noticed that the top button of her blouse had become undone, leaving her considerably exposed.
The boy’s remark had caused a titter in the classroom and she could not let it go unchallenged. First she re-buttoned her blouse, causing another titter, then, looking directly at Erik, she asked, “What did you say?” Erik looked a little abashed, then, realizing that he was the center of attention, regained his aplomb. “I said, ‘Look at that set.’” His cool response might have warned her to leave it there. Although he was only 17, Erik had the physique of an adult. His muscular body had earned him a place on the football squad, but there was more to him than athletic ability. Janice had observed many examples of his academic intellect and quirky, sardonic wit. He also had a reputation for risk-taking that bordered on the reckless.
Nevertheless, she plunged on. “What did you mean by ‘that set’?” Erik remained unflustered. “Do you really want me to answer that, Mrs. Baker?” By this time, she really didn’t, but could not think of another way out of the boy’s challenge to her authority. “I asked you a question, Erik. Of course I expect an answer.” “Okay, then, I meant that set of tits you were showing us when you leaned over with your shirt wide open.”
There it was, total disaster. The classroom filled with laughter, with only a few embarrassed girls abstaining. Erik did not hide his enjoyment of the sensation he had created. Janice felt it was imperative to regain control. At age 36, she was an experienced teacher and could have found a way to defuse the situation gracefully – perhaps praising Erik for his powers of observation while suggesting that some thoughts are better left unspoken. But even though she had a body she could be proud of, Janice was almost puritanical about both sexual matters and her dignity as a teacher, so instead of subduing Erik with a mildly humorous rebuke, she chose to use a sledgehammer.
“Well, Erik, that crude remark might be suitable for the locker room with the other jocks who substitute muscle for brains and real manhood, but it has no place in a senior classroom, where most of the students have outgrown puberty.”
Her comeback brought forth raucous, sarcastic cheering from some of the boys, and Erik flushed with anger. Janice tried to restore order. “That will be enough!” But the class was in disarray and Janice was literally saved by the bell that signaled the end of the period. As Erik turned to leave, he shot at her, “I’ll remember what you said!” “I certainly hope you do,” Janice replied, feeling that she had regained command.
But now her young adversary was standing uninvited in her kitchen. She got to her feet. “What are you doing here, Erik?” As she spoke, she noticed that the back door, which she had left open to let in the Saturday morning breeze, was now closed. He answered in a casual voice, with a smile. “I came for the set. You know, those tits you were showing off yesterday. I came to get my hands on them and suck your juicy red nipples. And there are some other parts of you I’m also interested in. I bet a smart lady like you can guess which ones they are.”
Janice stood frozen. Even a brash boy like Erik wouldn’t dare to be so explicit strictly as a joke. And he wouldn’t walk right into her house like that, unless … she had to think carefully about what to say, how to act. She knew this was very serious.
Erik didn’t give her much time to think. “I see you’re at a loss for words, Mrs. Baker, which is unusual for you. May I call you Janice? Yes. Janice, how about showing me your bedroom? I assume it’s up those stairs. I’m anxious to get at all those nice body parts and prove to you that I’m past puberty and have a pretty good manhood” He looked her up and down, very much at his ease. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt that showed off her body in much more detail than she wanted at this moment.
“Erik, I didn’t really mean –” “That will be enough!” he mimicked. “Now, do you want to come nicely with me to your boudoir or do I have to drag your ass there?”
“My husband will be home –“ “Some time this afternoon,” Erik interrupted. “You told the class he’s with the Boy Scouts on Saturdays. So I came here to keep you from getting lonely.”
Janice knew she could not match his strength and it was clear that her authority as a teacher had become non-existent. She dived for the wrench on the floor. He was quicker. He grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and headed resolutely for the stairs. She had no choice but to follow – the pain in her head became excruciating when she tried to hang back. She started to scream, but the sound was quickly cut off as his other hand clamped onto her throat. “Yell and I’ll choke the life out of you.”
She could hardly breathe, and this brought back the dreadful memory of when she had almost drowned while swimming at the age of twelve, caught in a strong riptide. Engulfed by the turbulent water, she had held her breath for as long as she could, seeing the world go black and feeling her life slip away. A lifeguard in a skiff got to her in time, but she had been claustrophobic ever since and would not even venture into a closet.
So as Erik dragged her up the stairs she did not try to fight him. She would accept anything rather than have that hand tighten on her throat and completely cut off her air. At the head of the stairs her bedroom door was conveniently open. Conveniently for Erik. Continuing to pull her by her hair he forced her to actually climb onto the bed – the last thing she wanted to do. Then he used his big hands to put her on her back and he sat astride her. He glanced at the window. It did not look out on a neighbor’s house. There was no one to see what was taking place in the bedroom.
She tried to speak calmly, reasonably. “Erik, surely you’re smart enough to know what will happen to you if you – do anything to me. Leave now and I will let the matter drop.”
Erik smiled and spoke to her as if he was the teacher and she was the student. “Nothing is going to happen to me, Janice. And I am not leaving until I enjoy every inch of that hot body of yours, including those great tits and let’s not forget your soft cunt and your nice round ass.”
He seemed to enjoy offending her with his crude language. Janice had heard that the best thing to do under these circumstances was to adopt a sympathetic tone and get the attacker to keep talking. “Erik –” “There will be no more conversation.” He mocked her use of that phrase she often used to get the class settled down. She tried again. “Look –” “I’ll look, all right. But first, I want to taste that mouth of yours.” He bent over her. She twisted her head to one side. His hands went to her hair and her throat again. “Turn your face to me and open your mouth.” His voice was commanding now. She made herself face him and opened her mouth. “Now, Janice, dear – put out!”
His mouth was on hers, his tongue moving inside. She did not resist, but her lips did not respond as he wanted.