Swim or Sink

The trigger for the thread of this story is a non-consensual act followed by blackmail and some irrational obsessive behavior. If these plot devices offend you, please look elsewhere for your reading pleasure.

Susan, a mature teacher, interacts with people much younger than herself. This prompted me to place this story under the Mature Genre. The story occurs pre-pandemic.

All active characters are over 18. This is a work of fiction. This means any resemblance to existing or former names, places and events is a coincidence.

Many thanks to Nercited for her editing expertise. She made a difference. Anything you find that still needs attention is my bad since I have made a few changes post-editing.

******

Swim or Sink

Nine-thirty Saturday morning. Susan stood in her living room looking out from the bay window at the wet shining green grass of her front lawn and the reflective black asphalt of her newly resurfaced driveway. She smiled as she thought about the garden needing the rain. There was no need to water the plants.

Dressed in her cotton pajamas, tightly belted thick robe that stretching below her knees and a hand towel turban on her head, she clutched a large mug of coffee. She did not sleep well, being woken by her dreams. It had been over a week since she had managed to stay asleep through the whole night. She was worried. Absent mindedly, Susan watched several cars splash their way across her field of vision on the suburban side road that passed by her house.

Susan was puzzled when a dark sedan pulled into the driveway. A large man of African heritage levered himself out of the passenger door. The jacket of his buttoned-up, dark blue suit jacket looked too small for him. In contrast, a blonde, relatively petite woman in a black business pantsuit walked briskly around the front of the vehicle from the driver’s side. Susan watched them approach the front door side-by-side. Had it not been for the fact they arrived by auto she would have taken them for a religious couple looking to save her. But she knew in her now rapidly beating heart who they were. They rang the bell.

Susan took three deep breaths and opened the door. They both looked her up and down momentarily before the woman asked in a pleasant voice, “Susan Smith?” She smiled knowing full well who she was speaking to.

Susan nodded.

“My colleague is detective Johnston. I’m detective DeVilliers.” They both held up their badges.

******

It started with her hatred of shopping. Susan had passed on getting groceries at the weekend. An empty fridge and freezer confronted her. She needed milk and bananas at least. To avoid driving too far in the raging January blizzard, and out of a general prudence, she drove to the much closer very up-market and high-priced grocery store. Even so, what would normally be a careful five-minute drive from her home took her twenty minutes.

In the store, she picked up some milk, bananas, salad, a frozen vegetarian pizza and her favorite comfort food, cashews. She rarely used this store, as the vegetables were inferior and more costly than her favorite supermarket. As a casual vegetarian, good fruit and vegetables were important to Susan.

Looking at the bananas Susan was pleased to recognize a young woman pushing a baby in a pushchair. The face and the way she carried herself was very familiar but for several moments she could not place her. Certainly, one of her former students, but who? She always liked seeing her former students, but she was not quite sure of this one’s name.

Then it came to her. Tentatively she called over, “Theresa?” She observed the beautiful, young woman was expensively dressed in a long well-cut lamb’s wool coat and expensive boots. Theresa looked puzzled for a moment before she broke out into a dazzling smile.

“Miss Smith. How are you? Wow. I’ve not seen you since graduation. What? Nearly seven years. Wow, you remembered me.”

Susan also did the calculation. It was indeed almost seven years. She remembered Theresa well. She was one of the school’s star students but flopped to a middling standard in her physics class. Theresa had the rare ability to be liked by all the girls as well as the boys. Despite her popularity, Susan always felt there was something quite sly about her behavior. It was as if she managed the happy crowd of students who surrounded her. Susan also felt Theresa was also trying to manage her as well. Because of this Susan held her to a higher standard and was tougher, but still fair, when she marked her work. Over all her courses Theresa still did very well but she missed being Valedictorian by the fraction of a grade point.

“Yours?” Susan grinned, pointing at the baby.

Theresa nodded. “Six months. Her name is Susan. Same as yours if I remember correctly.”

“Well, well. You didn’t have to name her after me, you know?” Susan winked and changed tack. “Did you complete your university?”

“Oh yes. Did English and women’s studies. It was great. I met so many wonderful people. Learned a lot.”

“You live around here?”

“Yes. Over by the golf course.”

“Ah. I know. That’s not too far.” Susan noticed that Theresa was looking a bit anxious.

“Look, I need to get back for Susan’s next feed. I can’t chat now. Can you come over and visit me?”

“I’d love to. Where do you live precisely? But it may have to wait a while, what with the new semester.”

Theresa wrestled with her purse and handed over an embossed card with all the details.

“Here. Give me a call when you have your diary in front of you. Got to run. My tits feel as though they are about to explode.”

“I’ll call you. Lovely to see you again. Drive carefully in that treacherous weather out there.”

Susan was a bit shocked at Theresa’s easy use of the word ‘tits’, but the pleasure of meeting up with a former student overtook any mild discomfort she felt. Susan had long ago acknowledged to herself she lived part of her life vicariously through her students’ successes and progress. She knew she would call. In any event she was anxious to get a better look at her little namesake. Despite the pleasure of meeting a former student something was out of synchrony with the first wave of recognition she had felt. She shrugged it aside and drove home carefully.

A week later Susan called Theresa and arranged to visit during the March break about six weeks later.

******

Susan passed by Theresa’s house the first time and had to double back. The large wrought iron gates opened automatically as her Prius approached them. She had not expected to see such a large mansion on a huge lot.

Theresa met Susan at the door and gave her a deep hug that was perhaps a small moment too long and too firm for Susan’s comfort. “Right on time, eleven. Welcome to our humble abode.”

“Humble?”

“Well, not so humble, I guess. But comfortable. I’ll show you around later.”

The size and the presence of the house intimidated Susan. She, inexplicably, felt diminished and somehow inferior to Theresa. This was unusual for someone who usually took charge.

“Let me take your coat.” Theresa looked Susan up and down. “You are dressed exactly as I expected. Polo neck sweater, dress pants and medium heels. That’s how I always remember you. You’ve not lost your great figure either. You always had the best figure of all the teachers. You were — hey, still are — hot Miss Smith. Maybe you have lost some weight though. Suits you, but you must pad your bra a bit. Always had great boobs.”

Susan was getting quite uncomfortable with Theresa’s personal comments. Susan was a private person.

“Come on through to the kitchen. Coffee?” It was more of a statement than a question. Theresa did not wait for an answer. Susan followed closely behind her. Susan went straight to an expensive looking machine that made a lot of hissing noises as it filled a coffee cup. As she fiddled with the machine, she spoke over her shoulder, “Still darn cold out, and they say it’s going to get colder and windy as the day progresses. I hope we do not get any more snow. I’ve had enough of the white stuff.” What Susan did not see was the shot of cognac that joined the coffee. Theresa had always observed Miss Smith to be uptight, and according to a plan she had thought out, she wanted to see if some alcohol would loosen up Susan as well as warm her up.

Susan did not complain about the coffee although it did taste a bit strange to her. She did enjoy the warm glow it left though.

“What does your husband do?”

“He’s a high-powered mining engineer, who opens up new mines around the world. He’s away a lot but makes whole gobs of money. I quite like the fact he goes away for months at a time. I have a wonderful group of girlfriends who look after me, as well as my parents who still live the other side of town. Another coffee?”

“No thanks.”

“For lunch I’ve put out some salad, fruit and cheese, and some delicious desserts and pastries.”

Susan had not thought about lunch, as she rarely ate in the middle of day. “Oh. You didn’t have to do that. But it would be wonderful. Where’s little Susan?”

“She’s still down for her morning nap. We can collect her in about half an hour.” Theresa wandered over to the fridge and took out a bottle of white wine. It was a German hock — Libefraumilche. “I love the name — mother’s milk.” She did not ask Susan, but simply poured her a large glass and a small one for herself. “Drink.” There was something in Theresa’s tone, a confidence and the authority in her voice that prevented Susan from refusing the offered wine.

They moved to the living room with the coffee, wine, and glasses on a tray. They both sat on the white, soft, leather sofa.

Susan could not remember the last time she drank wine in the morning. She was not averse to an occasional glass of wine and could not think of any way to refuse it without appearing rude.

They talked about the school and what was happening there. Theresa told Susan about her University experience that became more and more explicit with stories about her boyfriends and girlfriends. Theresa bluntly asked Susan if she had a boyfriend and was surprised when she was told she didn’t. Theresa refilled Susan’s glass.

“I cannot imagine that you do not have a boyfriend. As I told you earlier you are hot. At school all the boys thought they’d like to fuck you and half the girls did too.”

Susan was stunned. “Pardon? What did you say?”

“Most of the students wanted you, but you were always too strait laced, or naïve to figure out what was going on. You were, and probably still are, the subject of a lot of wet dreams.”

“I can’t believe what you are saying. The students lusted after me? Never.” As much as she did not want to believe what she was being told, a part of her loosened by the alcohol was somehow flattered and slightly aroused by the revelation. She gulped down the rest of her glass of wine. She was beginning to get light-headed. Theresa had the glass refilled almost before Susan had placed it on the table.

“Miss Smith, it’s true I always envied your tits and all the boys wanted to feel them.” Theresa reached over on the sofa where they sat and squeezed Susan’s left breast at the nipple. Before Susan had a chance to respond to the unexpected attack, Theresa stood and was leaving the room as she called back over her shoulder, “I’ll go and get little Susan.”

Susan was stunned. She tried to rise from the sofa, but her legs felt wobbly. A major part of her wanted to get up and leave but she now knew she should not drive. Another part that anchored her was the unexpected thrill that ran through her body when her breast was pinched, and yet another part just wanted to see little Susan.

Suddenly a long-suppressed experience came to mind and linked to the present. Her first-year roommate at university, Chloe who could have been taken as Theresa’s sister, seduced her. She had a year-long intimate lesbian affair. Theresa’s nipple grope triggered the memory of Chloe’s first move on her. This earlier experience occurred only an hour after they had met in their shared campus room.

Chloe did not return to university for the second year and moved out west. Susan’s parents died early in her second year. It was a tough year for Susan. She turned in on herself and became celibate for the remainder of her undergraduate degree time.

Susan did not move. The shock of this repressed memory, unfamiliar alcohol in her system and her desire to see and hold a baby kept her sitting.

Theresa brought little Susan in after a few minutes. “Good as new. Clean diaper and her best outfit for our important visitor.” Theresa goo-gooed and tickled little Susan, who giggled delightfully. “Want to hold her?”

Little Susan was placed into Miss Smith’s cradling arms. Susan stroked the baby’s face with her finger and let her finger be grabbed by a surprising strong grip, whilst also making gooing noises at the infant. As Susan pulled the baby closer, the baby turned and tried to latch onto her breast through her sweater. The attempted bite on her nipple sent a shiver down through to Susan’s groin.

“Feeding time. Can you hold her for a moment more?” Theresa pulled a towel from a drawer and unbuttoned her blouse and opened the front-clasp of her bra. She fully exposed her milk-laden breasts to Susan, who could not believe the uninhibited behavior, but at the same time admired the firm breasts.

With a deliberate swipe Theresa lightly brushed Susan’s breast as she reached in to retrieve the baby. “Feeding time sweetie.” Little Susan latched on to her mother’s nipple immediately. Gradually the triumphant grin of her successful gropes was replaced by a soft smile on Theresa’s face. She looked in bliss. Susan, uncertain whether she should be looking or not picked up her glass and started sipping the wine again. After a while little Susan disengaged and was taking a small rest.

“Susan come over here.” Susan rose and walking deliberately, to prevent herself staggering, went over to the nursing chair thinking she was needed to help. “Give me your hand.” Susan put her hand forward. Theresa grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand onto one breast and then the other keeping it anchored over the nipple on the full breast. Susan felt the nipple contract under her hand. “See how much my little one can take. Can you feel the difference? This one is still hard as a basketball.” She moved and squeezed Susan’s hand against the empty breast. “And this one is like a……” Her voice faded and she did not finish the sentence.

Susan did not know what to do. She was strangely excited by the feel of her former student’s breast –the breast of a beautiful woman. Echoes of her past rang through her. Once more a pang of pleasure ran through her, and she shivered momentarily all over. For a moment she was having a vicarious moment of motherhood. Theresa resumed feeding and a beautiful expression of joy suffused her whole face and body language.

“Sometimes I have a series of small orgasms as I feed her. It is the most wonderful feeling ever. I cannot understand why women do not want to breast feed their babies. I can now fully understand why women do like having their tits sucked though.”

Susan finished her third glass of wine and was beginning to feel all her judgmental attitudes slip away from her. She felt detached and at the same time a bit aroused by the look of Theresa’s tits. Susan felt her long-suppressed nascent bi-tendencies surfacing.

“She’s almost full now. Aren’t you my little one?” In a swift sweep, Theresa lifted little Susan over her shoulder, patted her back and marched up the stairs. “Follow me. Come on up and see the nursery.”

She followed Theresa on unsteady legs holding onto the bannister as she mounted the wide sweeping staircase. She watched Theresa put the baby back into her crib in a delightfully decorated pink room. Theresa then gave Susan tour of the rest of the upper floor. The master bedroom had an en suite bathroom. The master bedroom was dominated by a four-poster, king sized bed. The canopy ceiling over the bed contained a large mirror surrounded by a mass of tiny pinprick LED lights. The four thick pillars were intricately carved with naked people and random patterns. The headboard had similar motif.

“Some bed!” Susan could not resist making the observation, putting on as much emphasis as she could muster.

Theresa grinned, “Seen some nice action too.” To make her response perfectly clear she made a ‘O’ with her left forefinger and thumb and pistoned her right forefinger in and out of the O.

As the tour continued Susan discovered that the other four bedrooms each shared bathrooms that separated the bedrooms in pairs.

Susan suddenly felt she needed a pee when they were in one of the secondary bedrooms. “Feel free. Use that one.” Susan went in and automatically locked the door behind her for her private moment. Susan sat and started. As she was finishing, she looked up to see Theresa watching her from the other door from the paired bedroom.

“It wasn’t locked. Don’t flush. I need to pee too. I didn’t remember that you have great legs too. You should wear skirts more often.”

Susan hastily pulled up her panties and trousers as Theresa dropped her panties and lifted her skirt in front of Susan. Theresa noticed Susan looking at Theresa’s shaved pubic regions.

“Miss Smith, you have a wild bush down there. I like mine shaved. Sometimes I get one of my girlfriends to do it. You should try it sometime.” Susan turned and washed her hands at the washbasin. They returned downstairs.

“Let’s have lunch.” Theresa opened another bottle of wine and made sure that Susan’s glass was well filled. Susan was now not in full control of her faculties. Over lunch Susan learned that Theresa was bi-sexual. Several her girlfriends were not friends as Susan knew them, but friend with benefits. She understood why the absence of the husband was not a concern.

As she looked at Theresa, she found that her beauty was beginning to get into her head. She wondered how kissing the full lips might feel. Despite the milk her breasts carried they were still magnificent. She could see from the expanse of legs that was visible below the high hem of her mini skirt that she was beautifully shaped and proportioned.

Susan suddenly felt chilled. “Is it cool in here or is it my imagination?”

“This is a lovely house, but it is rather porous and with the large windows it cools quickly inside. As soon as a wind kicks up the outside temperature starts intruding. See the wind has picked up, and there is sleet in the air.” Theresa pointed out of the window at the whiptails of the leafless willow thrashing around in the wind. “It didn’t help that hubby Victor both designed the house and acted as the general contractor.” She gave a wry smile. “I can turn up the heat, but the geo-thermal system takes quite a while to get back up to comfortable. I’ll jack it up.” She did.

Susan was now feeling very chilled and was beginning to shiver.

Theresa offered, “Let me get you a coat.” Stopping for a moment a puzzled look came over her face. “I’ve had an even better idea to get you warm again. I’ll turn on the hot tub.” Theresa brought Susan a down coat. “Takes about ten minutes to get the hot tub to a nice temperature. Let’s have dessert and then it should be ready. Would you like a cognac rather than more wine?”

“I’ll stick with wine, thank you.” They had dessert. Susan was warmer but her core still felt icy.

“I’ll check on the baby and be down in about ten minutes.” In a wine haze Susan dozed in the warmth of the down covering on the sofa.

Theresa shook Susan. “Ready to be warmed up? Let’s go. Little Susan is happy playing in her playpen — she likes playing on her own in the afternoon for an hour or so. She gets fussy if I hang around. I am still yours for another hour. Let’s go and get warm.”

Theresa led Susan through to the back of the house. Susan was surprised as they opened a door to find themselves in a room with a huge indoor swimming pool with the hot tub on a raised platform overlooking the pool. Susan could not think of anything to say that would fit her surprise except, “Very nice.” This sounded so inadequate to her own ears.

“You can go for a swim if you like, first. Get the blood pumping around. It’s twenty meters long”

“No thanks. I never learned to swim.”

“OK. Jump into the hot tub.”

“I don’t have anything to wear in the tub.”

“Follow my lead.” Susan expected Theresa to go to a dressing room or at least a closet to bring out something to wear, but all she did was to go to a closet to bring out a pile of white bath towels. Theresa looked at Susan, shrugged and stripped off naked. “Come on. Just do it. Strip off.”

Susan was nonplused. She had only ever stripped for two men she had been engaged to earlier in her life, and, of course, Chloe. Yet she was still somewhat drunk from all the wine, the chill was returning, and she had little fight in her to resist the idea of getting warm in the now steaming churning water.

As Theresa lowered herself into the water she urged, “Come in, the water’s just fine and I will not bite. Hey, I may nibble or even lick, but no biting. Just joking.” Susan undid her trousers and folded them over the back of a plastic chair, removed the down coat, and she then pulled off her sweater, her bra, and trousers. Her nipples became pebble hard in the cold and the excitement of the moment.

As Susan was about to step into the tub Theresa said, “Stop! House rules — no panties. It’s a hygiene thing.” Reluctantly Susan bent down, removed her panties, and slipped as quickly as possible into the water. She sighed. The warmth felt wonderful.

Susan sat opposite Theresa and positioned herself with one jet playing on her back and two jets on the sitting bench pulsed up the outsides of her thighs.

“Normally I do at least twenty lengths before having the hot tub experience.” Theresa stood up. “What do you think, am I getting my figure back. Tell me. What do you think? See any flab?” Theresa stood and turned around slowly. “Well?”

“You look great to me. You have a great figure. Your breasts are still a bit full, probably with all the milk, and the blue veins will disappear, I believe, once you stop feeding. I cannot see any stretch marks.” Susan was now looking at Theresa’s body carefully. “But if you don’t mind me saying, I find the shaved pubic region a bit strange. I’ve never seen one like that before.”

“Ok. I get that. But do you like my bare cunt?” Theresa thought she’d notch up the education of the prim Miss Smith. “Susan, can you say ‘cunt’?”

“Theresa. No. I cannot. Vagina, yes. Not that. No.” A part of Susan was wrestling, in her partially befuddled mind, with trying to find a reason for not saying the word. Of course, she knew the word, but some barrier went up as she thought about using it. Hearing movement behind her interrupted Susan’s thoughts. She felt a jolt of shock run through her. It was one thing to be naked in the hot tub with Theresa but was there someone else: a maid or handyman, who? Susan sank lower into the water and looked around.

“Susan, meet Allison Chan. You may remember her. She was a year ahead of me. She’s a neighbor. Lives three houses down from here. Allison, you must remember Miss Smith.”

“How do you do? Please excuse me if I don’t shake your hand. Its wet.” Susan remembered the tall gangly Chinese girl who was all knees and elbows, with an intellect that was off the charts.

“Miss Smith. Hello. Wonderful to see you. How are you? Still teaching?” Susan relaxed a bit, but she kept herself low in the water with the bubbling water protecting her nakedness from Allison’s eyes. Susan observed Allison had, in a similar way to Theresa, developed into an elegant, beautiful woman.

Theresa queried Allison, “I thought you never drove in the snow or sleet? I’m surprised to see you.”

“Peter gave me a lift. He’s outside now cleaning off the rear window of his auto. Be in in a minute. Anyway, I couldn’t wait to see you. It’s been three weeks. I flew back in last night.”

Susan felt a small wave of panic about a strange man, probably Allison’s husband or boyfriend, coming in and seeing her naked. She looked down at her body and was somewhat reassured that the churning bubbles were opaque. Nothing was on show. Nevertheless, she slid her bottom forward on the sitting shelf such that her chin was almost at the water’s surface.

Susan saw a young man stride in removing his winter jacket. He looked over at Theresa and asked, “is it OK if I do a practice swim today? Since I’m already here.”

“Of course. You know the routine. Shower off first.” Turning to Susan, Theresa elaborated, “Peter swims here three or four times a week. He’s in the school swim team and likes to get his training in here. He tells me it’s less chlorinated than the school pool.”

Turning back to Peter she introduced, “By the way, meet Susan Smith. You probably know her.” She gestured with her hand towards Susan.

Susan was shocked to see Peter Liu, one of her students standing before her. One arm automatically covered her nipples and the other hand her pubic area. She managed to croak out, “Hello Peter.” He had been at the top of her physics class for the last three years. She knew him well, and, unbeknownst to her, he had spent many, many hours looking at her, always with some suppressed yearning that never quite developed into a full-on lust-crush.

At that very moment the water stopped churning and became clear. After a few moments silently gazing at Susan’s body through the now clear water, Peter stuttered, “Hi Miss Smith. Must swim now.” He went bright pink and immediately turned away and marched down to the changing room at the other end of the swimming pool.

Theresa giggled, “Sorry about that. Bad timing. There must have been a blockage. The fail-safe is to shut down. Perhaps some of your pubic hairs block the tubes. Let me restart it.” She casually reached back without looking and the water and bubbles stared their circulation again.

On a moment’s reflection, but without having seen Theresa do anything as she looked at Peter, Susan suspected that Theresa had turned off the circulation pump. The bitch she thought, uncharitably.

Standing at the side of the hot tub fully clothed, Allison looked back and forth between Susan and Theresa, “I’m really feeling out of it.” She immediately started to strip without inhibition. Susan was stunned but could not look away as her slim figure emerged. Susan could not fail to notice her long firm nipples, crowning medium sized breasts, and the fact that she too had completely shaven her cunt, as Susan secretly framed the word in her mind.

Allison slipped down by Theresa, and they kissed mouth on mouth. Allison looked over at Susan, “I hope you do not mind. I’ve not seen Theresa for a while. I’ve missed her.” She was not really seeking permission from her old teacher, just offering a courtesy. She then turned again to Theresa and kissed her more passionately using her tongue in a way that it was clearly visible to Susan. Susan once more felt a voyeuristic tingling in her nipples and vagina at the same time.

“Don’t mind us. We do this all the time. Allison’s husband goes off to Hong Kong for six months at a time and as you know my hubby is away a lot too. We need our outlets — and it’s harmless enough.” Theresa grabbed Allison around the neck and started kissing passionately. Susan observed as their hands came into play with each other’s breasts. Susan found herself shuffling to one side over a jet the flowed from the rim of the bench seat in the tub so it could run up between her legs. She subtly adjusted her position of her legs, so the flow pulsed up between her legs over labia and clit. Susan found that she was pulling her own nipples under the water.

In a moment of disengagement from Allison, Theresa smiling asked, “need any help?” Susan simply nodded her head from side to side. She was close. Susan pushed her hand down firmly on her pubes as an orgasm pulse ran through her body. A wave of emotion seemed to boil up from within her and hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Theresa reached across to find Susan’s hand and squeezed it. Susan was amazed and ashamed of herself. She never masturbated and she managed to keep her voyeuristic tendencies totally hidden until now.

“It’s ok. Let go.” Theresa urged.

Let go. Just let go. As the imperative took root Susan surrendered herself to her emotions. After a minute or so, she felt her orgasm wane. Suddenly realizing where she was and who was there, Susan whipped around to see that Peter was totally unaware of what was transpiring in the hot tub as he did lengths of the pool. A wave of relief broke over her and she sank down.

“I didn’t know I would feel like that…that emotional” Susan said apologetically without specifically speaking to either of her companions.

“I’m guessing it’s been a long time” Allison said sympathetically.

“Quite a while” Susan murmured. Once more, her emotions seemed poised to engulf her.

“Hey, you. Don’t worry. You did good” Theresa said smiling and giving her hand another squeeze.

“As a religious person, I’d have to disagree with that statement,” Susan countered.

Theresa barked back, “As a religious person, you have been educated to suppress your emotional and sexual needs. Your needs haven’t been met for years yet they’re still there like a small child hoping someone will play with her or just give her a smile.”

“Yes, you may be right.” Susan, feeling somewhat defeated and not wishing to argue the point, paused, and followed up with, “It’s funny how sometimes the student teaches the teacher.”

Susan said “I think it’s time for me to go. It’s been educational.” Yet she made no effort to move.

Susan looked up and saw that her companions had resumed their embrace and caresses. She just watched in the afterglow of her own orgasm. She smiled as they reached their own mutual orgasms quite discernable from the way they were arched their backs with their heads back. They all took a few minutes to gather themselves.

“Warm now?”

Susan could not resist conveying the idea she was with them. “More like hot, actually.” She grinned.

“Bravo.”

“I really should be going.”

“Sure?”

“Yes. This has been all way too much, in the nicest way.”

The all climbed out of the water at the same moment. Theresa and Allison came round the tub in opposite directions sandwiching Susan in a nude and quite lengthy hug. “Take a towel.” Susan had checked that Peter was still doing lengths. They all dried off. Susan dressed. Susan spotted Peter get out of the pool and head for the changing room.

Theresa took charge. “Let’s see if Peter can drive you home. If not, I’ll call a taxi. We have an account. I’ll arrange to get your car back to your house or apartment. You’d better leave your address, phone number and your car keys.”

Allison addressed Susan, “I’d love to have a chance to chat with you sometime. I’ll give you a call at the number you leave. You were always one of my favorite teachers and I learned a lot from you.” Susan blushed.

The party dispersed and Susan was driven home by Peter. Susan stripped off naked for the second time and slipped into the cool sheets on her empty bed. She was asleep in seconds.

******

Susan Smith was aware of the pain even before she awoke. Her head had a knife splitting it in two. There was pressure pushing her eyeballs out from their sockets. As she became conscious, she was aware of a second knife in her body. In her lower abdomen. She needed to pee so badly she had trouble holding on.

The act of swinging out of bed and getting vertical twisted the knife in her head and doubled the weight of her bladder. Susan stumbled into the bathroom attached to bedroom and sat on the toilet. A wave of relief swept over her as she let go. It was no ladylike piss; it was a flood. As the stomach pain subsided, the pain in her head increased. She reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out two caplets of Extra Strong Tylenol. She washed then down with two full glasses of water. Dehydration be gone.

Susan knew the cause of the pain. It was a good old-fashioned hangover. Only the second in her whole life. As her awareness grew, Susan became aware she was nude. She always wore pajamas. She knew she must have been in a bad way when she went to bed. Although it felt wrong to be naked, she was too distracted by her headache to put her pajamas on now. She slipped back into the warm bed.

The headache blocked all thoughts. As the Tylenol took effect Susan drifted into a light sleep.

Her second awakening was much more normal. Her head had a dull throbbing but was quite bearable. She tried to think about the circumstances that found her in her present state, but Susan had the strange sensation of an absence. It slowly dawned on her the absence was a lack of shame and guilt. She took two more Tylenol.

For a while, the teenage Susan seriously considered becoming a Nun under the influence of a friend. In the end she chose teaching instead. Her religiousness with its more demanding values hung around Susan like a soft net. Despite this invisible constraint, she was surprised that all she felt was a sense of pride about the way she had handled her recent transgressions. She had faced the unknown and mastered the challenge. She would have run away even a few years earlier. Now all she had to do is wrestle with her conscience.

Susan wondered what her parents would have thought of her. They had married, both for the first time, quite late in life. She was forty-two when her mother gave birth to Susan. Both her parents were gentle, pious people. Her mother taught math and her father modern languages — French, Spanish and sometimes German if there was demand. In addition to following in her parents’ career footsteps, Susan adopted religion from the example they set in their lives and embraced it without any parental coercion. There was no hellfire in their household. Susan thought they would have been forgiving for the way she had behaved.

Susan’s thoughts returned to the previous day and realized a new window had opened for her. In her mind she tracked the journey from the meeting on a wintery day in January weeks earlier to the previous twenty-four hours.

******

Later in the day Susan phoned, “Theresa? I’m calling to thank you for yesterday.”

“You Ok?”

“Bit of a fuzzy head, but yes I’m doing fine. How’s little Susan? You know I’d love to see her again.”

“Certainly.” Theresa paused for a moment before recovering, “Of course, but let me get back to you on that. Your car will be back to you later today. Sorry, I really must rush. Caught me at a busy moment.” The call ended abruptly.

Susan Smith was a creature of habit. Her solitary life was always focused on her students. They were her family and her children.

Susan had developed an optimal routine that suited her circumstances. She always went to bed early, usually before nine, and rose at five-fifteen every morning.

At five-forty-five each morning she went through her front door with outerwear appropriate to the temperature and precipitation. Susan’s routine did vary a little. If her friend Samantha, called Sam, was in town, Susan waited for her to pull into the drive, and they went for a brisk thirty minutes’ walk together. If Sam was away, Susan went by herself and jogged. She had three different thirty-minute routes around their mostly residential neighborhood. After her walk or jog Susan stripped down in the bedroom, showered, dressed, and had the breakfast she had laid out earlier. She was usually at school by seven fifteen.

Her evening routine was less structured because she never knew for certain what time she would be coming home. There was grading, which she preferred to deal with in her classroom, parent-teacher interviews, student counseling, exam marking, staff meetings, and twice a year extra-curricular projects she worked on. She sometimes arrived home shortly after four, but this was rare. Unless there was a meeting, she always tried to be home before seven. People who sneered at teachers’ hours made her angry. Susan was dedicated to and very focused on her work. She loved being a teacher. It was in her blood. Her friends and many of her colleagues thought she devoted herself to her students too much.

If not otherwise occupied, Susan endeavored to sit down quietly at eight o’clock to consider the day that had passed and think about the activities of the next day. If school matters were quiet Susan caught up with current events in the newspaper. When she was younger this time was devoted to prayer, but over the years the prayers had become shorter and shorter until they had disappeared altogether. It was a time of quiet reflection based on the challenges, mainly school related, of her life as they were passing by. On Tuesday and Thursday evenings her period of contemplation was taken in a warm soaking bath, often spiced with fragrant bath salts and bubble bath.

The Monday after the March break conformed to Susan’s usual routine. Sam drove up and they took off for their walk. Sam was a chatterer. She had recently returned from two months in Arizona and had a lot to tell Susan. It was Friday before Sam paused her daily monologues before she finally asked Susan how things went over March break. Susan would have liked to tell her close friend and confidant about meeting Theresa but had difficulty framing the story without making it sound demeaning.

Susan was pleased when Theresa called to set up another visit for the following Sunday, but on quiet reflection was not sure how she was going to handle it

.

She was in her Thursday bath when Susan’s thoughts turned to her visit to Theresa, having been submerged by the weight of practical matters at school earlier in the week. As recollections about her first visit swirled around, she noticed a gap open in the bubbles on bath’s surface of the water. Her dark bush of pubic hair was exposed. Her mind jumped to the shaved cunts of Theresa and Allison. She surprised herself how easily the word cunt came to mind, when all her life she had considered it obscene. She repeated it out loud, getting louder each time, “Cunt, cunt, cunt, CUNT.” She smiled to herself. “And fuck, fuck, FUCK.” Now she was grinning at her own mild private rebellion.

Susan was not that interested in sex. She never felt in need of sex. She was reluctant to label herself asexual, but she readily admitted to herself that she enjoyed and actively participated in her limited number of sexual encounters. She did not have the drive to initiate sexual activity but was quite willing to enjoy what was offered, providing the partner was kind, considerate, and quite acceptable to her. Masturbation held no attraction for her. Chloe and her two fiancées had initiated and driven her trio of sexual experiences. Theresa did the same for just the fourth time in her life.

.

As she soaked, she thought of Philippe in Paris when she was there to take some post graduate courses at the Sorbonne University. He had seduced her. Notwithstanding her lesbian relationship with Chloe, as a religious young woman, she only allowed Philippe to advance beyond some kisses and light petting after he proposed and gave her a ring. For Susan being engaged — having intent to marry — legitimized having sex. Over the nine months they were together, Philippe taught her everything she needed to know about pleasing a man sexually, and Susan became fully educated in her own responses to sexual stimulus.

After she returned to North America she wrote daily. Philippe replied initially once a week then every two weeks until she received the “Dear Jill” letter. After crying for a week, she sent the ring back by registered mail. After a while she did not miss the sex. She went further, coming to resent the very thought of the messy physicality of sex intruding in her life.

She succumbed to her second relationship nearly twenty years later when she was in her early forties. In retrospect, she realized that during her early menopause, her hormones churned up her needs, helped by some pharmaceutical magic intended to alleviate the imbalances. She fell in love with a married man, who promised to leave his wife. Once more Susan insisted on an engagement to Bob, albeit a secret one.

She remembered and exercised much of what she had learned in Paris. Over the two years they were seeing each other, as much as her school schedule allowed, Susan’s hormonal balance returned, and she no longer had the urge to create a nest and seek sexual satisfaction. Without the imperative generated by her raging hormones, she began to objectively see that she was playing into a scenario that would compromise her independence she had created over the previous twenty years.

She hated the mess that Bob left on the rare occasions when he stayed over at her house. She liked him well enough if he could live elsewhere. She steadfastly refused to agree to a commitment to marry by a certain date, which would take into account his divorce. He eventually gave an ultimatum: marry or they were done. They were done.

Susan found herself twirling her pubic hairs under water as she thought about her past. She recalled overhearing her students talking about ‘Brazilian wax treatment’ and learned from Sam about the procedure. Susan placed her index fingers down either side of her pubic region in a triangle to get some idea how it would look if she had a partial Brazilian. She was not impressed. She would live with the generous bush God had given her.

Susan washed without pinching her nipples or massaging her clit. She enjoyed her usual lack of internal horniness, although she admitted that when confronted with an erotic sight, she did get a wave a voyeuristic arousal. Susan smiled to herself as these thoughts ran through her head. She only ever got herself off in front of two men, Chloe and recently two women.

It was a week later, also in the bath, when her thoughts once more returned to her visit to Theresa. She was vaguely aware that Theresa was trying to provoke her and loosen up her inhibitions with alcohol. She wondered if she would allow that to happen again. Susan puzzled over the origins of the deep-seated maternal instinct that drew her to seeing little Susan. The moment the baby briefly reflexively clamped onto her covered nipple, she bonded with her namesake, although she recognized the reverse was probably not true. The baby had her mother, and her life-giving milk. She knew she would let herself go with the flow and do whatever Theresa had planned for her, for she was sure that Theresa would have an agenda, although she would prefer to have little Susan alone with none of the other activities.

Something that niggled at the back of her mind for some time finally surfaced in her thoughts. Theresa had said how blind and naïve she had been about how the students reacted to her. She had trouble believing this. Susan batted around why Theresa might have said this. Was it just flattery, or part of her manipulation to get her to loosen up? Part of Susan wanted it to be true. She knew that she would be truly flattered if indeed some of the students really did think she was sexy and hot. Such flattery mined a deep vein of vanity that Susan tried to suppress.

As she was lying in the bath the thought of the boys mentally having their way with her proved to be a powerful stimulant that had never occurred before. She ran with the fantasy and thought of specific students she hoped would be part of her lustful admirers. She included Peter in her musings. The very thought of stripping naked for them, and with a minimal amount of jilling, Susan brought herself to a very surprising mild orgasm.

On the following day, Friday, as Susan was about to leave for work when she received a phone call from Theresa.

“I am so glad I caught you. I know you leave early to get to school. You always were the first teacher at school I remember. Are you free the Sunday after next?”

Susan thought for a moment. “That’s fine. Sunday works for me. What time?”

“Make it noon. I’ll have some finger food and a bottle of wine open.”

“Little Susan will be there?”

“Of course! Oh. Oh. You do remember it’s Easter Sunday.”

“So it is. Still no problem. I’ll go to Church on Friday and Saturday. Also, there is no school on that Monday now I come to think about it.”

“Thank goodness you’re free. I am so looking forward to our get together. So is Allison.”

“Sure. No problem if you and Allison behave yourselves. You’re not trying to loosen me up, are you?” Susan laughed. So did Theresa.

“Goodness me, whatever put that thought in your head? No. That’s settled then. Until Sunday. Bye.” Theresa disconnected.

Susan had a weekend routine. Saturdays were devoted to putting together a big wash and putting it in the machine, making a meal plan for the week, buying food, going to the bank, and most importantly, going to church for the service. There were variations but essentially it was a catch-up day for obligations.

Sunday was different. Sunday was Susan’s day for herself. On this Sunday she had a plan. Susan was a person who needed a plan. After staying in bed until six o’clock, she rose and showered. Selecting her blue satin dressing gown, she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror doors that covered three walls of her dressing room.

Susan adjusted the doors so she could see her back as well as her front, slipped off her robe and appraised her reflection. She was slim. Her legs were just a touch longer than most people with very smooth knees, slim ankles, well-shaped calves, and sleek muscular thighs. She liked her still narrow waist but was less enamored with the small bulge in her stomach over her wild pubic area, her ribs showed a bit, but she did not look emaciated, her breasts were a C cup with left one just a bit larger than the right. Susan’s nipples, with prominent nubs and aureoles, were of just the right proportion relative to the breasts and were set slightly on the upper side of her breasts. Her shoulders were quite wide, and she had quite deep depressions between her collarbones and her shoulder muscles. Her arms were slim and firm. She always thought of them as her best feature. They ended with elegant long fingers.

Susan was critical. She looked at her tight, muscular but very small bottom. She knew it could do with some fat on it. Skirts tended to fall almost directly from her waist. She also realized there was little she could do about this.

Susan was also very self-conscious of her neck. She thought it too scrawny. To disguise it, she wore a lot of turtleneck sweaters. Recently — horror of horrors — she discovered the beginnings of the dreaded chicken neck. She had purchased an expensive neck cream and was relieved that hydration seemed to help.

Despite a few shortcomings, she had to admit she looked damn good compared to her contemporaries. Susan had never considered herself to be very attractive. Pretty, perhaps. Body, ok but not great. She was shocked to realize she was one of the best-looking women on staff, even the much younger ones. No wonder she had to dodge the principal who kept making discrete grooming moves on her which fell just short of harassment.

In a ten-minute frenzy, Susan pulled out the contents of most of her drawers and spread them on her king-sized bed in piles and divided them into panties, bras, sweaters, vests, leggings, pantyhose, and stockings. She opened all the cupboard doors so she could see her whole collection of clothes hanging on their hangers. They too were in order; blouses, dresses, skirts, trousers, jeans tidily organized by hanging cupboard.

Susan was intent on updating her wardrobe. Her recent experiences with Theresa drove her to reassess her look. She wanted to achieve a high-class but sexy look. Fortunately, much of Susan’s underwear was sexy. This was a small indulgence she had always had. No plain white panties and bras for Susan. She did not use Victoria’s Secret but a small almost anonymous lingerie store at the edge of town.

Careful examination of the individual items revealed wear and elastic that had become slack. After an hour Susan had almost filled a large black garbage bag with discarded clothes. As she looked at the turtleneck sweaters and discovered she still had eight even though she had thrown out five. It irked her that Theresa had her so pegged about her turtleneck sweaters and dress trousers she had to restrain her impulse to throw out all the sweaters but could not see herself getting rid of her tailored trousers.

Susan made a list of purchases she needed to get. She had ideas of how she could really see if her students found her hot. After a leisurely breakfast and a cursory scan of the New York Times, Susan was ready to shop.

~~~~~~~~~~

She felt herself getting warm in the ambient heat and the sun reflecting off the front of the building. As she dressed, some brazen courage caused Susan to decide that If they wanted to play she would meet them head on. Susan rang the bell. It was a few moments before Theresa answered.

“Wow. Who’s looking good? Very smart.”

“Thanks. You’re not looking so shabby yourself.”

Susan felt as though she was looking at a mirror image of herself, except Theresa’s skirt was black, not blue, the white blouse high buttoned to Theresa’s neck whereas Susan’s was V-necked. Susan wore a royal blue choker scarf around her neck. She also took in that Theresa was not wearing shoes. The only other difference was that Theresa was wearing a bra.

“Come in. Come in.” Theresa urged Susan. Allison’s face appeared over Theresa’s shoulder, with a mild, “Hello.”

Susan had already decided to show Theresa that she was not a prude. Also, she planned to come across as being hot. Taking a deep breath to reinforce her resolve, she stepped up to Theresa and kissed her full on the lips accompanied by a tight hug that lasted rather longer than it should. Susan stepped past Theresa, grabbed Allison, and gave the same treatment. The thought ‘that’ll show them’ crossed her mind.

Susan presented a bottle of wine she had researched as being a good event drink into Theresa’s hands.

Theresa looked a bit stunned but managed to get out, “Thank you. That was not necessary.”

After some other pleasantries, Theresa placed a full glass of champagne into Susan’s hands. Theresa guided her to the kitchen where a buffet of finger foods sat under cling-wrap protection. A birthday cake caught Susan’s eye. She looked at Theresa, “Your birthday? I didn’t know.” She felt bad she had not brought a gift.

“Oh, no. It’s not my birthday. It’s Peter’s. He’ll be over in about an hour and a half.”

This changed the whole complexion of the afternoon for Susan. She felt a sense of deflation from the high she was riding at being hot. Now she would be dealing with a teenage boy who was also a student of hers.

“Don’t worry we have time for some fun before he arrives.”

It was Theresa who took the initiative to regain control over the situation and pounced on Susan as she set her empty glass down. It was a full-blown lip kiss with an invading tongue and groping hands-on Susan’s ass that pulled Susan’s vulva into her own. Theresa pulled back a bit, looked down and moved her hands to Susan’s tits, as she said, “No bra. Interesting. Firm tits still.” She established the veracity of her statement by giving Susan’s breasts a firm stroke before she pinched and twisted both nipples at the same time. A buzz broke down Susan’s body and took residence in her whole pubic region.

“Allison come up behind Susan and sandwich her to me.” Allison moved in and did as she was asked without hesitation. Once in position Theresa continued her instructions. “Lift her skirt and put your hand in her panties and rub her cunt.”

Susan wasn’t ready for this and resisted by pushing downwards with her hands on Allison’s wrists to keep her hem line where it was. Yet her resolve was thwarted by another subtle assault on her nipples and its attendant signals down her body. Her arms relaxed and her skirt was bunched up to her waist as Allison’s fingers found their mark.

Susan knew she had lost control and submitted to twin attacks on her senses before losing control to a mounting orgasm that buckled her knees. As she recovered her composure when her two companions backed away from her, Theresa grinned and said, “See, I told you we had plenty of time before Peter arrives. Probably, time for one more round, too. Let me fill your glass again.”

Susan looked down and could still see her erect nipples pushing into her blouse. She took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, another glass would be lovely. When can I see little Susan?”

“Oh, it’ll be another half-hour before she wakes. No hurry.” Allison passed a full glass of champagne to Susan as Theresa continued, “Drink up. Plenty more to be had. A toast. To us, none like us. I learned that one from my dad. He always made us drain our glass with a toast. To us.”

Susan raised her glass in the air and then took a modest sip. Seeing the other two take the bubbly liquid in one gulp she decided she better do the same. A short while later she felt she had to sit down.

******

Confusion took over Susan’s befuddled mind as she opened her eyes in a semi-lit room that was clearly her bedroom. She looked at her bedside clock. It showed eleven-fifteen in the morning. It was a while before her brain began to organize itself. The first question was “How did I get here?” She had no answer to that. She looked down and saw she was fully dressed except for her shoes as she lay on the top of her bedcover.

The next thought was that she’d had a stroke of heart attack. But that didn’t make sense because surely, she’d been in the hospital if that was the case. She did remember she was at Theresa’s house with Allison. The thought of their activities came to mind. She then knew she must have been drugged.

What the fuck had happened? Her anger made her rise too quickly. She fell onto her back on the bed again. Her head swirled. Next time, she got up slowly and looked at herself in the mirror. Nothing she could see was different. After stripping off her clothes she re-examined herself. First, she had no panties to remove. Something else was different. It took a while for her fuzzy mind to realize her pubic bush had disappeared. She called out loud every foul name she knew at Theresa and Allison. She had to have a shower to cleanse herself.

In the shower she washed out a rose petal from her hair. Further questions arose: what was a rose petal doing in my hair?

Susan had a strong black coffee and bagel. Her composure returned but anger boiled white hot. She called Theresa’s number. Before she could speak Susan was pre-empted, “Hello Susan. Awake now? Like our little prank?”

Susan was thrown off balance. “Prank you call it. You drug me and assault me, why shouldn’t I go to the police.” As she spoke this thought occurred and seemed just.

Theresa’s reply was dry, “You may want to think that over carefully. There are two of us who will swear blind nothing untoward happened, and that you tried to drug us. We spotted what you were doing and reversed the process. I also have CCTV of you coming into the house and kissing us. I can edit that to make it look like an unwanted advance. Relax. Just cool it and treat it for what it was — a prank — in which no one was hurt. Anyway, you enjoyed the opening moves, and we enjoyed the rest. Anyway, your bald pussy is much more attractive. Anything else Miss Smith?”

Susan was stunned into silence for a moment and did know how to respond to the counterattack she had been subjected to. “Bitches!” She smashed the disconnect button on her phone. She’d have been shocked and ashamed had she seen Theresa and Allison high fiving each other and dancing around as the phone call ended.

******

The following day she noticed that Peter, who usually sat with his partner at the front bench of the physics lab, was at the back. As the class ended, Miss Smith waved Peter over to her desk at the front. He was red in the face and looked down at his shoes.

“Peter. You OK?”

“Fine Miss. No problems.”

“I just wanted to wish you happy birthday. I’m sorry I missed you at Theresa’s. If I had known, I’d have brought you a present.”

“Thank you. You were present enough. Sorry, I have rush for my next class.”

Susan shook her head as she did not understand what Peter was saying. She called after him, “Can you come by here after school. Say three-thirty? ”

Now it was Peter’s turn to look puzzled. “Sure. If that’s what you want. I’m free. Are you certain?”

“Of course, I’m certain. I just asked you, didn’t I? See you later.” Susan found Peter’s comments troubling, and she let her annoyance show. Peter spun on his heels and left without answering.

As she waited for Peter, she assessed her opinion of him. She had always found Peter was great kid. Always polite and helpful. Academically he was probably even brighter than his elder cousin. He had been accepted at MIT for computer studies. She learned from her colleague who taught computer science that Peter was already way ahead of him and only to take the courses to get the grades and requirements for university. He did not run with the jock set, and in fact was not identifiable with any group at school. He swam for the school team and was the regional squash junior champion.

Peter knocked on the door before entering. He was forthright, “Why do you want to see me. Was it about Sunday?”

Susan regarded him carefully and knew she had to discover what was going on even though she might not like the answers. If she opened to him maybe he’d do the same for her.

“Peter, can we talk in confidence?” He nodded in the affirmative. “Good. I’m going to tell you some things that must never leave this room. Agreed?” Again, a nod. “On Sunday, I do not remember anything after two drinks with Theresa and Allison. I woke up late the next morning on my bed fully clothed.” She left out the part about her pubic hair. “I think they drugged me.”

Peter looked down at his shoes and managed to utter a defensive, “Oh.”

“Is that all you can say? Oh?”

“It’s complicated.”

Susan straightened her back, “As I always teach, go back to the beginning. First principles. Start when we first met at Theresa’s. What did you think when you first saw me naked in their hot-tub?”

“Honestly?” Peter’s eyebrows were as high as they could get.

“Yes. Full disclosure.”

Peter swallowed hard, “Ok here goes. You were — are– hot. I only got a glance of you and had to get into the pool for it not to show?”

“Not to show?”

“I became immediately aroused. I know Theresa spotted my condition. Every time I came over to do my training swim, she asked me about what I thought of you. She has a way of wrangling information out of me. I told her you were hot. She asked me if I’d like to fuck you. I tried to be a smartass and brush off her constant inquisition, but she knew the answer.” Peter stopped talking.

“And the answer is?”

“Promise not to lower my grades or report me to the principal?”

“Peter. This just between us and nothing to do with school. No grading games and no reporting you to anyone. I promise.”

“Given the chance I would fuck you, as would every other guy in our class, except for the two gays. There I’ve said it.”

“Peter. Let me surprise you. I’m flattered, not angry at you. Thank you.” Peter’s eyes opened much wider as he stared at Miss Smith.

“Now tell me about Sunday.”

“When I arrived, they had some beer for me and there was this terrific food layout. Including a cake. You were nowhere to be seen, but I was puzzled by the three glasses. Both Theresa and Allison were dressed in semi-see-through harem outfits with lots of folds of the loose draped material and seemingly no underwear. One was in blue and the other green. They looked very sexy with their peek-a-boo outfits.”

“I saw the food in the kitchen.”

“They lit the candles and sang happy birthday. Allison has a great singing voice. After the song they both gave me a passionate kiss and sandwiched me rubbing me all over. I became aroused. They both sank to their knees and pulled out my cock. Can I say that?” It was Susan’s turn to nod. “They double teamed me on a blow job. Theresa took my cum in her mouth. It didn’t take long. I remember her turning to Allison and saying something like that will take the edge off him.”

“I can see that.” She knew that an eighteen-year-old with two mature women he didn’t stand a chance. “What next?”

“This is where it got weirder. They told me that they had my present upstairs. They led me to the master bedroom. On the huge bed was woman spreadeagled on her back with her hands tied with stockings to the headboard wearing nothing but an elaborate Venetian half-mask on her face concealing her identity. She seemed to be asleep. They told me that she was my present to do what I liked with.”

Peter looked conflicted. Susan jumped in, “That’s it?”

“You know where this is going, don’t you?”

Susan had a general idea that he had intercourse with the prostitute acquired by Theresa.

Peter with his inhibitions now totally dismissed he continued, “Well, I kissed her and initially she responded as if in a dream. I stroked her and sucked her pussy. She surprisingly responded and when she bucked and went rigid, I assume she had an orgasm from my efforts. Theresa and Allison watched. She seemed to wake and told me to fuck her properly. I thought the voice was familiar. Allison handed me a condom. I started and as I was clearly getting close Theresa whispered in my ear for me to remove the mask. I did.”

Peter stopped.

Susan was drawn into the narrative and showed some frustration at the long pause, “And?”

“I saw you, but I couldn’t stop. I fucked you as you looked to be in a dream. I quickly guessed you were drugged. I dressed and bolted out of there as quickly as I could. I’m so sorry, Miss Smith.” He looked at the ground between them.

It was Susan’s turn to be reduced to silence. Peter’s eyes filled with tears.

It took a while for Susan to regain her composure. Although she didn’t fully believe them, words came out of her mouth, “That’s alright Peter. No blame can be placed on you.”

After another long silent pause she continued, “Did you notice if either of them was videoing or taking photos?”

“I pretty sure they were not doing anything like that. They were kissing and fingering each other as I recall.”

Susan was coming to her senses, “That’s a relief. One question was my pussy bald?”

“Yes. Really smooth.”

“I knew I’d been drugged. They shaved me. And that’s what I thought all that happened. Theresa presented it to me as a prank. No mention of you. Now, what to do about this? I need to think about it. For the time being and maybe forever I may do nothing. Let it just be a memory for both of us. Perhaps pleasant for you and traumatic for me. It was pleasant for you I hope.”

Peter sighed, “I’m sorry, but yes. You’re still one hot lady.”

Miss Smith, Susan, had to smile despite the revelation of her violation. “That’s OK. I’ll get over it in time.” Not believing this for one moment.

Susan’s demeanor changed. She leant forward menacingly, “If you ever share any of this information, including this talk to anyone. I know I will lose my job and may never be able to teach again, but I would then see it my mission to prevent you from going to MIT or any university. Am I clear?”

Peter felt panic. He had no intention of sharing his experience but now he saw the danger to his own future. He pleaded, “Nothing of this will get any further. I promise. Promise. Promise. Please don’t do that.”

“You silence guaranties my silence.” Somewhat archaically they shook hands. “Good. Better get home after this academic counselling session. I still have a lot to think about. Go now.” Peter left.

Susan did think, and think about her event, as she couched it in her own mind. It returned time and time again over the next four weeks, but she did nothing. Although it maddened her, she knew if she was to take the situation to the police and she could convince them to act, and that would need Peter’s testimony, then all sorts of other shit most likely would hit the fan. Letting sleeping dogs lie seemed the best course of action. The trauma faded and she was able to set it aside as she buried herself more than usual in schoolwork. She took no action although every fiber in her body told her it was wrong to let this pass. She found she could reluctantly live with her trauma, providing she had nothing to do with Theresa and Allison.

With the past event well behind her she began to relax more and more until one day about six weeks after the event she received a couriered large, padded envelope. She had not ordered anything online. Her curiosity had her snip open the mysterious communication as soon as it arrived. In it was a nondescript thumb drive and a letter in a letter-sized envelope.

The letter simply gave a telephone number and the telephone message password. Susan was conflicted as to whether to view what was on the thumb drive first or the listen to the phone call. She inserted the drive into a USB slot, and it booted up. It asked for a password with a note that the number would be available on the telephone call. She dialed the number. It asked for the password in the letter followed by the number sign. She keyed the password in and hit the hash tag key.

The message opened with, “You have one minute to get a pen and paper to write down some details. One minute starting now.” As it happened Susan was sitting at her desk and had pen and paper immediately to hand. For the remaining fifty seconds there was silence on the line. Susan thought this was sort of hoax game or super-sophisticated selling promo but was curious to see it through.

When the neutral female voice returned it immediately told her to get ready to write. There was silence for another ten seconds. “Write this number down. It is the password for the thumb drive.” It gave the number slowly repeating it three times. Susan had the passing thought that this was getting boring. The message continued, “One last thing, listen very carefully as this message continues and make note of a date and time and any other thing you think might be useful to you. The message will only be given once, and this number will be discontinued, and this message deleted forever. You only have one chance of getting this right. The message will continue in five……” It counted down.

The smile on Susan’s face dropped from her face as soon as she heard the voice. It was Theresa. Her heart sank to her shoes, and she felt her veins throbbing in her ears.

“Ha. You thought you’d shaken me off. Not so fast Miss Smith.”

“My husband has been back three weeks and is already looking to supplement our sexual activities with some new meat. He liked the idea of an older trim woman when I told him about you. You should set aside Saturday-after-next into Sunday, the fourteenth and fifteenth, to come over to fuck the brains out of Victor. Arrive at our house at ten in the morning, and bring enough clothes, not that you’ll need many, toothbrush and so on for an overnight stay. Have you noted that? I may or not be there. I’ll keep you guessing on that one.”

“I can imagine you fuming, even apoplectic, at this point. Before you call me, or your lawyer, or even the police I suggest you look at the attached video which I compiled from your visits. If you do not comply, then I will be forced to send it to your school board, colleagues, and church functionaries. Apart from the lesbian kisses you gave Allison and me, I have some wonderful shots of you being royally fucked by Peter, your student. I think that’s enough to persuade you that there is an ongoing, not too arduous set of services that you can provide to us until we no longer need them. We will keep them secret if you will. It’s that easy.”

“I hope you have all the notes necessary to carry out your task. This is mission possible, and you will do it.”

“Goodbye.”

There was click and line went dead. Susan tried redialing the number, but a message said the number was not in service.

Susan was shaking. She ran to the living room and dug into the back of her alcohol stash, pulled out a bottle of Cognac from the cupboard, poured herself a generous serving and downed half of it. This settled her enough to tackle the thumb drive content.

Sitting into her easy chair with her laptop on her knees, tears rolled down her face as Susan watched her foolish kissing of Theresa and Allison and by the time the video reached her rape by Peter her eyes were hardly functioning as violent sobs wracked her body. She fainted back into her chair and was out for several minutes before regaining consciousness. Next her stomach heaved. Setting the laptop aside she raced to the bathroom to bring up her supper laced with Cognac. She continued to dry heave for twenty minutes before she could lift her head out of the toilet. Somehow, she climbed the stairs and settled on her bed falling into a deep troubled sleep.

When Susan awoke, she was clear-headed and resolute. She said out loud. “Theresa, you bitch, will not beat me.” Her thoughts ran to Peter. She concluded he was as much a victim as she was. She would not go public, but some inner voice told her she had to play the long game. To set up Theresa’s comeuppance she needed to know more. To do that she had to do her research. She had to get inside and find out how the pictures were taken and how they could be destroyed. Victor was the key. She’d have to submit herself to him and subtly interrogate him at the same time. She knew she could do that for her greater good. She started to plan but soon realized much depended on how much she could learn from Theresa’s husband. She had her first goal defined.

Perversely, Susan loved her shaved pubis. It annoyed her that the hair had grown back to a rough stubble. After some research she found that laser treatment would give a permanently smooth mons. She set up a spa visit for the next day where she could get the depilatory treatment. “Damn the expense.” she told herself. She had them also treat her anus. She estimated from what she had read that she just had enough time for possible inflammation to go down before she visited Victor. She checked her wardrobe again and selected what she would wear. Susan was in serious planning mode.

Susan delayed telling Peter anything until she had more information, even though he featured in her plans.

******

Victor answered the door himself. Susan first observed he was a slim short man. Immaculate in a heavy silk robe and a cravat, sharply creased trousers, and kid leather slippers, he invited Susan in. She set her overnight bag down in the foyer.

Victor’s hair was full and gelled over to one side with a sharp parting. He looked like a character out of a nineteen-twenties movie. Susan immediately summed him up: vanity is his weakness. Good.

“Come in.” Victor paused and looked Susan up and down. “My dear, Tree, that’s what I call Theresa, did not tell me you were so good looking. Turn left at the top of stairs. The bedroom is the second door on the left.”

The blood rushed to Susan’s head with anger. She somehow managed to keep her voice quiet and level as she blurted out. “Victor, I am not a two-bit whore. I need a coffee and would like to get to know you a little bit before we fuck. Think of me as a call-girl-consort being paid by your silence.” Susan felt her heart sink. She thought she had blown ‘The Plan’ in the first thirty seconds.

Victor looked at her in astonishment. He frowned and then smiled. He spoke lightly without menace. “That’s the first time that’s happened.”

Susan was still angry. She doubled down. “I guess this’s not the first time.”

“No. There’s Allison who you’ve met. Mary. I don’t think you know her. And Theresa has two more in the pipeline.”

Susan thought ‘the bitch is evil’. “Why do you let her do this?”

“She has to keep busy. Little Susan takes up some of her time. I prefer what she’s doing than taking some other male lover. At least the females can’t get her pregnant. They also make for pleasant threesomes.”

Susan wanted to retch but she sucked it in and simply asked, “Coffee?” She sighed with relief when Victor ushered her to the kitchen and pointed out the coffee machine. She hadn’t blown her whole scheme.

“Help yourself. Bring me a glass of water. I’ve discovered the importance of being well hydrated before vigorous exercise.”

As she made the coffee and filled a glass with water, Susan started, “I believe you are a mining engineer? What was your latest project?”

“Seven months in the Congo. Hundreds of miles from anywhere. Congo is a huge country.”

Susan grinned and joked, “I bet you didn’t dress like this.” She gestured with her hand up and down towards him.

He smiled. “No. Beard. Shorts. Big boots. And lots of sweat. I love the contrast of being elegant when I am home.”

She poured on the flattery. “I think you look very smooth and sophisticated.”

“Thank you.”

Susan made her first major move. “I believe you designed and built this house. It’s a masterpiece. I thought I wanted to be an architect when I was young. Studied all the great ones from the renaissance to Corbusier to Pei and of course the master FLR. Would you show me around?” She tried to look eager. His eyes lit up. Gotcha!

It was if she had pushed a button. He started to talk in wholly self-congratulatory terms about his masterpiece from being the designer to undertaking the general contracting role. He ushered Susan around. Victor pointed to and explained the problems and challenges he had overcome. He was particularly pleased to tell her how he had kept costs down and came in well below budget. The cost cutting and cheap materials explained why the structure was so porous and took a time to warm up. Victor prattled on about the geo-thermal system in a room full of pipes, valves, and dials. Susan gave encouraging comments and smiles before she slipped in the one thing she needed to know. “The place is big and a bit isolated. What about security?”

Victor laughed and looked proud. He was on a roll. “The whole house and grounds are covered by CCTV. Let me show you.” He took Susan into a basement room with a huge TV at one end with six sofas arranged for viewing. Three on a lower level and three on a raised platform. At the back of the room was a wall of twelve screen monitors but just one keyboard.

Susan was at his side and watched carefully as he tapped in a password. Tree1435. Easy to remember with the number being the street address. The screens woke up to an array of views of the grounds and inside. Susan could see how her self-incriminating kissing of Theresa and Allison was recorded.

“Turn around and look at the big screen.” The views cycled through with sharp clarity, all the rooms including bathrooms, bedrooms, passageways, and the living areas at huge scale on the big screen.

Susan spotted the master bedroom where she had been raped. “Go back one. Please.”

“That’s one shot of the master bedroom where we’ll be in a few minutes. Let me show you something special.” He clicked on a few keys and a threesome with Theresa and Allison blowing Victor came up. “Give you any ideas?” The images then flowed with views transitioning from all directions as the same scenes progressed, all in close-up detail. “Tree and I like to watch later. Gives us a blast.”

Susan was amazed and curious as to how the pictures were taken. “How do you get such close-up shots?”

“Each of the posts of the four-poster bed have three micro cameras embedded in them. That was one of my ideas.” He brimmed with pride at his initiative.

“Can we turn them off for our session. You have enough on me already.”

“Why would I do that?”

Susan did not want more material out there. She thought fast and tried the first thing that came into her head. “If you do, I’ll let you give me anal.” She gave her best coy impression. “Can we shut all this CCTV down whilst I’m here? Pretty please?”

Victor pondered the question for a full thirty seconds. “You’ve been so interesting maybe I shall.” He paused as he turned the thought over in his mind. “OK. Tree doesn’t do anal and won’t let me with the other two. Yes, I’ll do it, but don’t dare tell Tree. Agreed?” Susan thought how being a good listener made her interesting.

Susan smiled and said, “My lips are sealed, but my anus is open.”

Victor laughed. “You may have to open your mouth as well you know. But I trust you.” Laughing again, he turned to the keyboard and started to enter some commands. The screens went blank.

As Susan thought what an idiot he was to trust me, she smiled and asked, “You must have a huge computer to carry all this material. Do you keep it forever?”

“Oh, yes. It goes straight to a cloud server. Saves us keeping and cataloguing hundreds of DVD disks. The computer is quite small. It’s in the cupboard over there.” He pointed to a door to his left.

Victor stood as tall as his five foot six inches would allow. “Enough. I’m horny. Let’s go.”

“After you sir. Lead on.” Susan had all she needed. Now she had to make payment with her body. She summoned up all the detachment she could muster to accept the next twenty-four hours as a purely a carnal act that was no different than the physical side of the relationship when she was engaged to Phillipe in France or Bob the married guy. If it was pleasurable so much the better. She may only rarely get horny, but she was very capable of getting physically aroused quite easily. She gave herself one small smile when she thought she would make him feel he was the dominant person in their liaison. She grunted to herself, “Huh. He’ll see one day.”

On the way to the bedroom Susan scooped up her overnight bag from the foyer and ran to catch up with Victor. She took from the bag a tube of KY jelly and a box of a dozen condoms and placed them on the bedside table.

Victor spoke, “You won’t need those.” A flat declaration.

“Victor dear, you have just returned from seven months in the Congo. I cannot assume you were celibate the whole time. I do not plan to get a STD.”

“Look at the piece of paper in the draw.” He pointed to the bedside table. “I thought you might be nervous, so I fished it out just in case.”

Susan did as she was bidden. The heading was from the Mayo clinic. The date was just three weeks ago. It looked legit. She scanned the contents that indicated Victor was free of any bacterial or fungal infections and had no intestinal or blood parasites. He was tested for about thirty differing infections including herpes as well as the other STD’s.

Before Susan could speak Victor anticipated her question, “After I go away for a project lasting longer than two weeks, I arrive back three days before I tell Tree I’m returning, go to the Mayo clinic and get checked out. That answer the question? I can see the KY will be useful for anal though. Undress me. Now.”

“OK. I accept the document as valid.” To herself, she affirmed that she still did not trust him one bit even though she’d gone along with no condoms. “You should realize I am post-menopausal and rather dry down there despite some modest hormonal treatment so I might need the jelly. I do lubricate with some rigorous oral stimulation if you are up to that.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Proceed.”

Susan approached Victor and looked him in the eyes as she undid the sash holding his robe together. Pushing the lapels back over his shoulders she let her still covered breasts just touch his chest as a small tease. She let the robe fall to the floor, but then bent over, picked it up, folded and placed it on an adjacent chair. Next, she removed the cuff links from Victor’s crisp white Egyptian-cotton shirt and placed them with the robe. Starting from the top she undid the shirt buttons down to his belt. Loosening the belt, she tugged the shirt tails upwards to remove the shirt completely.

Victor’s chest was completely free of hairs. Susan ran her hand over the smooth firm abs and a suggestion of a six-pack. She was pleasantly surprised he was so buff. After tweaking his nipples, she removed to his trousers. With the belt undone and zip lowered the pants fell to the floor. He kicked off his kid loafers, stepped free from the puddled pants and was naked. No socks. No underwear. Commando.

Kneeling, Susan intended to pick up the trousers from the floor but changed direction when confronted by Victor’s semi-tumescent, uncircumcised cock that stood out a good seven inches from a bald pubis. The thickness of this cock did not fully hide a generous scrotum that housed a pair of the largest testicles Susan had ever seen in her very limited experience. She thought her vagina could probably take the cock, but she shuddered at the thought of doing anal with this equipment.

She was impressed but pulled herself back to the reason she was doing this and became business-like. Opening her mouth, she wrapped her lips around the end of the foreskin and started to push it back. It was if the cock rose to meet her mouth as it became harder and harder. The inner head slipped easily into Susan’s mouth as the folded foreskin retreated downwards on his shaft. It had been quite a while, but the muscle memory of her technique developed decades earlier in Paris came back to her without a pause.

She played Victor like a violin. He initially bent forward, but as she relaxed her throat and found she could take him deep he straightened and leant back a little pulling the back of Susan’s head. He moved forward and backwards fucking her mouth. He came. She swallowed as much as she could handle and let the rest dribble down her chin. It felt like a quart of liquid.

“Good girl. You’ve done that before. I’m surprised. Now let’s get you ready for some action. Strip slowly for me.” Susan gave him the best she could do without music. Naked she twirled around for him. “Like what you see?”

“Better than I thought. I like the shaved pussy. Maybe I will partake of that little dish on offer. See if I can get you juiced up.”

She could see he had taken getting her wet as a challenge. Susan backed up to the side of the bed and positioned herself, so her pussy was just hanging over the edge. She opened her legs wide. Victor was on his knees with his face in her crotch in a moment. He then backed off, as if had second thoughts. To Susan’s delight and surprise, he started kissing from her knees on the inside of thighs. Despite the circumstance, Susan knew that she was about to be transported as he hit one of her most sensitive and pleasurable areas. She lay back on the bed, pussy still fully exposed.

The tendrils of pleasure that emanated from her lizard brain stifled her thinking such that her dormant lust started to overtake her. Her last rational thought was a brief quote from Dickens: It was the best of times and the worst of times. Susan started to push her vulva into the Victor’s probing lips and tongue. A rhythm developed and continued and continued. Susan felt an illusory sense of being lifted yet she remained lying back on the edge of the bed. Victor inserted and then pumped one and then two fingers into her vaginal opening. With his other hand he pinched and twisted one nipple and then the other. She succumbed to the insistent stimulus and was slowly overtaken by a wracking crescendo of an orgasm.

After a few moments, Victor’s words brought her back to the present. “Hey, not so dry after all. Sopping wet in fact. When was the last time you were fucked?”

“You know the answer to that. When I was raped recently.” The reality of her situation came tumbling back.

Victor did not blink at the accusation and simply ignored it. “I mean before that.”

“A decade or so.” Susan felt compelled to be polite and answer his questions. She had a plan.

“Your cunt was dripping. Have you ever squirted?” Victor sounded genuinely interested.

“Squirted? What do you mean? Never heard of it.”

“Some women have ejaculations.”

“Really. Doubt it. Probably just piss. The orgasm contractions squeeze the bladder.” Susan did not have a clue what Victor was talking about.

“No. I’ve had my face showered. I can assure you it was not urine.”

Susan heard Victor but was not interested. “Whatever.”

“Get up.” Victor rearranged the bed pulling the quilt, blanket, and top sheet down the bed. “Lie down.” Susan positioned herself on the lower blue sheet with her head tilted up on a pillow. “Can’t mess up Tree’s old granny’s quilt can we now.” He placed a second pillow under Susan’s hips. “Spread your legs.”

Susan thought ‘here we go’, fully expecting to feel Victor’s still erect cock enter her. She was puzzled when she saw him locate himself further away and then bend over to start cunnilingus again. Susan shuddered as she realized he had taken her ignorance of squirting as a challenge to see if he could get her to squirt. His expert lingual skills soon had Susan losing control over her thoughts once more. She rapidly lost herself to the pleasure that overtook her whole body.

Victor did not stop his working of her cunt with his tongue, lips, and fingers when Susan had her first orgasm. Nor her did he stop when the second one arrived, nor the third. For Susan it became one continuous series of ever-increasing orgasmic waves. What Susan felt was just short of excruciating, totally unbearable sensitivity. She pleaded with him to stop. He didn’t. Reaching over to the bedside table he quickly undid the KY jelly and placed a dab on her anus and coated his index and second fingers. He pushed the slippery fingers into her resisting sphincter and doubled his tongue’s manipulation of her clit.

Susan felt she had been transported to another dimension and drowned by her own pleasure. She fainted.

She awoke to Victor’s sneering voice. “Told you so. Sit up.” Susan slowly drew herself up to a sitting position. Victor removed the pillow from under her hips. “You squirted. Look.” There was large wet patch on the sheet. Susan had no words and just nodded. “Roll over. Let’s give your cunt a rest. On your knees head down. Legs spread.” Susan assumed the requested position.

“One thing. When did you last shit?”

Susan was taken aback by the crude question. “This morning after breakfast. About eight-thirty. Why do you ask?”

“Anal, my dear.”

Susan could not resist saying, “You’re Ok. I do not think I’ll squirt from that hole.”

Victor laughed. “Yes, that would be a shit-show.”

Susan did nor share Victor’s humor, “Get on with it.”

To Susan’s surprise Victor was patient and gentle with his finger preparation and cock penetration. She felt stretched and had some initial pain, but the large cock found itself all the way into her large intestine. Her memory once more kicked in as she recalled her Paris experience. She relaxed as she let go and enjoyed the pleasure. The relatively mild orgasm that developed had the good fortune to coincide with Victor’s significant deposit. He remained in her until he had softened.

“That was good.” Victor was sated and satisfied for the moment. They both rolled over. “Clean me up. There’s a cloth in the bathroom.” Susan left the bed and did what was asked of her.

“Wow, how did it get to be two o’clock. Now go and get two beers from the fridge for me. You will also find a covered plate with smoked salmon sandwiches. Bring them back with you. Oh, get something for yourself to drink. We can share the sandwiches. Go. Go.” Susan skipped back down to the kitchen naked to fulfil her next task. Susan thought that Victor’s reasonableness will be sorely tested before she finishes with him. She prayed she would not bump into Theresa.

After they finished eating and having their drinks Victor was ready to go again. “Check to see if you are still wet.”

Susan was not sure what he wanted her to do. She frowned. Victor wiggled his first two fingers and gestured to stick them in her. She followed the mime and checked her vagina. Her fingers came out wet and shiny.

“Good. Missionary to start with. Let’s do doggy after that and then you can ride me cowgirl? That should take a while. But first I insist you kiss me for several minutes. Come here.” Susan joined him on the bed and kissed him for the first time.

Over the next twenty hours, half of which were spent sleeping, Susan discovered that Victor was a considerate, skilled, and insatiable lover. She had no complaints about his performance. It was the best sex she had ever experienced. She was also pleased at the amount of orgasmic bliss and that she was able to keep up and satisfy him. Her thoughts rarely wandered back to her prime intent to bring both him and Theresa down. She concluded he may think she is now his, but the truth of the matter he was now hers.

As she was leaving at noon the following day Susan asked if this would happen again.

Victor replied, “Maybe one more time before I go to the cottage on the lake for the rest of the summer. Then I’m off to the Philippines. We’ll get you up to the cottage for our mid-summer solstice party. Can you sail? I have two dinghies up there. I love sailing.”

“When’s that? Twenty first of June?”

“No, we only call it that. Third week in August.”

Susan wanted some tacit acceptance for her to call him if the need arose as ‘The Plan’ developed. “May I call you?”

“Really? Sure, but you may get Tree. Careful what you say to her.”

“Ok. Got it. I will not thank you, given the circumstances. Goodbye.” Susan turned and left Victor in the foyer.

******

Susan now knew she need a lot of help with ‘The Plan’. There was only one person she could turn to, Peter. She would have to be very careful.

After showering again, Susan settled down to some preparation for some her next week’s classes. She had the next step of ‘The Plan’ ready.

*******

“OK class settled down.” Susan reached into her briefcase and pulled out some papers. “A half-hour surprise test. I’ll get the marked papers back to you on Wednesday.” Her AP Physics class groaned. Miss Smith spoke as she distributed the tests. “See if you remember anything after the weekend. Start now. Thirty minutes.”

On Wednesday Miss Smith distributed the marked test papers and discussed the results in general terms. “Haley, Bo, and Peter, can you see me after school today to go over a few points on the test, please.” All three nodded that they would be there. Although this was not unusual, Peter wondered. He usually aced the tests.

After school, Susan called Haley up first and then Bo in turn before getting to Peter. She went through a couple of points with Haley and then Bo, as she had planned, before dismissing them. They left. Now they were alone Miss Smith turned to Peter. “First, question seven was a catch question that you read incorrectly. Watch out for that in future. Read the question twice. You still get an A, which is lower than your usual A+. OK?”

Peter shrugged.

“Now Peter, are you willing to help me on some other matters? You can guess what they relate to.”

Now Peter was cautious and nervous. This was delicate territory. “Sure. If I can.”

“We still have our mutual confidentiality agreement I believe.” Another nod. “I take that as a yes. Good. Are you any good at hacking computers?”

This was the last thing he thought Miss Smith would ask. He just blurted out, with a small laugh of relief, “Of course. I’m taking computer science.”

“Ok, I’ll get back to that. Next, do you know any drug dealers in the school you could get something from?”

Peter thought that this is going from baffling to preposterous, “Everyone knows the three dealers in the school. Why?”

“We’ll get to that too. I do not want to know who the dealers are. Got that?” Peter nodded.

“The third, and final thing, is would you be prepared to teach me to swim? I’ll pay you.”

“Sure. That’s no problem if we can schedule the time. How much?”

Susan had a co-conspirator. They talked for an hour as Susan explained exactly what she wanted and how each step was to be arranged. Peter added some ideas and expressed his worries if they were caught but saw it as a challenge. He felt he owed it to Miss Smith to balance off the trauma he had brought on the teacher he admired and lusted after.

The first part of ‘The Plan’ started the next day with Susan distributing details of a science fair. As expected, only Peter expressed an interest. This was not a surprise as he was the brainiac of the class. Susan had reason to be regularly speaking to Peter after school without raising any questions.

Peter approached one of the drug dealers in the school and purchased five roofies with cash Susan had given him. Five tiny plastic zip bags were handed over to Susan. Peter also worked on some software to take control of Victor’s computer.

With the software readied it was hidden in a short pornographic video. On Peter’s advice and with his help, Susan downloaded Tor to her computer and set up a completely anonymous email account. Susan sent an email to Victor from her bogus account to perversely thank him for “the event” and asking if he would need her services anymore. Susan was careful not to be too specific as to what the event was or when. She did include enough detail for Victor to recognize who was writing and what she was referring to. Victor replied to the email and remarked on the clip included, telling Susan, without using her name, that he would be in touch. Opening the video loaded the trojan software onto Victor’s computer. It was clever enough to be invisible to most of the common virus protection software. With the password that Susan had given Peter, he was able to test his intrusion and found it worked as expected.

Susan was pleased by her progress. The swimming lessons would have to wait until the holidays started. This did not stop her buying three new two-piece swimming suits. Not quite bikinis but sufficiently revealing to show off her assets. She also researched swimming clubs and found one affiliated to the YMCA about forty-five minutes away in two counties over from where she lived. Susan joined the YMCA under the name S. Smith.

Victor called. They set up a date about ten days later when she was invited to visit for another overnighter. Theresa was going to the lake. Susan found this intriguing. The fact that he did not want Theresa around suggested to Susan that she had some influence over Victor. She interested him, as he put it. Also, he’d want anal again. Susan smiled as she admitted to herself the event with Victor was most pleasurable and had triggered some deep-seated sexuality she did not previously know she had. It prompted her thoughts to keep returning to the fact that her male students thought her hot. She toyed with ways to play to this.

The more she contemplated her second triste with Victor, the more she felt inclined to embrace her sexual urges. Despite this new background sexual buzz, she did not lose sight of the fact she needed to know more about the solstice party to put some flesh on the bones of ‘The Plan’ for Theresa and Victor. Susan saw Allison more as fellow victim so did not include her in her planning.

One Friday night Susan overcame her reluctance to do what she had been putting off for weeks. She chilled a bottle of Prosecco, changed into her PJs, and took the bottle to bed with a glass. She filled the glass and drank it quickly. She settled on her bed consumed a second glass, jumped up for a pee, applied some KY between her labia and returned to bed to stretch out. Rolling over onto her side she then emptied one of the small plastic bags Peter had bought for her into her third glass and swallowed in one gulp. She noted the time at eight-twenty on a scratch pad she had placed on her bedside table and the fact she started to jill herself. After some energetic rubbing and thrumming of her cunt, and noting that she was managing to get a bit wet, she recorded the time again five minutes later with the progress of her activities, and once more after a further five minutes. She did not reach recording at the twenty-fifth minute.

Susan woke with a fuzzy head at ten minutes past eleven the following morning. She remembered very little of the previous evening after opening the bottle of prosecco, which sat open beside her bad. The roofie worked as expected. She mentally ticked that off her list. Her notes suggested it took about twenty minutes to work, but she had no memory of trying to induce some sexual overtones. She calculated that for ‘The Plan’ to work she should allow for different metabolisms with thirty minutes offering a safe margin.

******

Susan rang the bell. She had prepared both mentally and physically, paying particular attention to how she had dressed, to meet once more with Victor. She froze when Theresa opened the door.

Theresa carried a wide grin. “Ah, there you are. Come in.”

Susan stuttered, “Is Victor here. He asked me to come by?”

“He had to go out. Be about two hours. Come in.”

“No. I’ll come back another time.” Susan turned to leave and started back to her Prius.

“Stop right there.” The command was sufficiently forceful to stop Susan. “If you take another step away you will be getting calls from your principal, colleagues and probably the police tomorrow.”

Susan stopped dead still. She weighed her options. She did not know for certain if Peter could remove and delete all the material they had on her. She summoned up the courage not to throw away her life and possibly go to jail. She opted for the safe route, the cooperative face she presented to Victor. She slowly turned looked Theresa, smiled, and stated simply, “I was just going to return my bag to the trunk before joining you.”

“Bring it with you. You may still need the KY.” There was an acid tone in Theresa’s voice. Susan registered that she knew. She must have wrangled it out of Victor.

Inside they entered the living room. Theresa pointed, “You know Allison. And this is Carlos. He’s over here for a week from Spain.” Allison just waved a limp hand and a casual “Hi.” Carlos rose to his full six feet and came over to kiss Susan’s hand. With only the slight trace of an accent he just said, “Delighted”, before he retreated to the sofa where he sprawled. In an instant, Susan noted the carefully developed unkempt beard, swarthy complexion, a thick shock of equally disheveled hair, a boxer’s flattened and bent nose, strong jawline, and an athlete’s body, and deportment. He had an abundance of swagger and self-confidence.

A large glass of Champagne was thrust into Susan’s hand by Allison.

Theresa continued her introduction, “Carlos was a champion skier and now represents several prominent Spanish companies. He’s over here on a marketing and promotion tour.”

Susan nodded. She knew she had to get on track. “It must have been urgent to send Victor out.” It was a half question.

Theresa rose to the bait. It quickly became clear Theresa needed to ventilate her anger, “Oh, it was. Oh, yes. I was on the back road to the highway in the Jaguar going to the lake when I received an urgent call from Allison.” Theresa nodded derisively towards Allison. “She whined she couldn’t undertake the simple task of entertaining Carlos for this evening and night. Her period had started. It was a heavy one and she suffered bad cramps. That’s the moment when I hit a huge pothole that punctured my front tire and I later learned had bent the suspension. The Automobile Club guy told me it was seriously unsafe to drive. I need Victor’s help. Is that urgent enough for you?” The crescendo in her voice turned into a sneer as she moved in front of Susan. “Further, my sweet Victor mentioned for the first time that he was waiting for you to arrive. You. It’s almost as if he put you first.”

All Susan could muster in the face of the onslaught was, “Yes. I can see how that was upsetting.”