Teaching the Teacher

Teaching the Teacher
by Sundel
BUT IT STARTED AS A HOGTIE!byANNE GRAY
As a new principal at forty years old, I thought that I had outgrown some of my earlier problems when I had taught middle school classes.  Little did I know how memories linger. I thought it was by accident when I met Susan at the convenience store one afternoon.  Susan was eighteen, pretty as a girl can be, but petite - no more than 5'1" and 100 pounds.  Draw your own picture. Susan had been a student of mine eight or nine years before - but now she was a nineteen year old college student, and home for summer when we met.  As a student, she had been a little rebellious in my classes, but nothing more than the average middle school student.  Or so I thought.

On meeting at the convenience store. Susan was outgoing and friendly.  We chatted amiably.  It being a Friday, I suggested that we had better part and let her get ready for her date for the evening.  I was divorced and had no plans for myself.  Nor had Susan, she told me; "Guys are such a pain in the ass, Mrs. Sundel."
"Oh, they can't be all that bad, Susan."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
One thing led to another, and I invited Susan to come to my townhouse for dinner.
"How should I dress, Mrs. Sundel?  Will there be anyone else there?  Dress up?"
"No, Susan; come as you are, if you wish."  She was in a pair of denim shorts, short tee, and sneakers.  I may as well admit, she was cute.  As cute as I had thought when she was in my classes . . . and I had thought no one noticed me notice.
     
"Welcome to my home, Susan.  I know you're old enough now; would you like a drink?  A glass of wine?"
"That would be nice; yes, thank you."  So polite, that girl. Strange change. She casually dropped an oversize bag on the floor beside my sofa.
Dinner began nicely.  Susan was very polite, yet somehow beguiling.  
Over coffee on the sofa afterward, Susan said, "Do you remember that term paper you only gave me a D on, Mrs. Sundel?"
"Yes, not your best effort, Susan, I regret to say.  But things have turned out well since, haven’t they?"
"Oh, sure.  But I was really pissed over that D."
"I would have thought that by now, you would have forgotten that, Susan," I said, feeling somehow edgy.
"Nope, never have.  Remember Debbie, the little blond in the same class?  She was - let's see - thirteen then, I think."
"Hmm, I think so, yes.  Pretty girl, if I recall."
"Debbie and I still stay in touch, Mrs. Sundel."
"That's nice, Susan," wondering where this was leading to, but feeling it might be more than mere chit chat.

Susan's expression changed somehow as she said, "Debbie told me what you did to her, Mrs. Sundel."
I had no idea at all what Susan was speaking of, and told her so.
"The same as you did to me.  She will swear to it."
"What on earth are you getting to, Susan?"
"You know all those priests that grown men are accusing of abusing them when they were boys?"
"Yes, what has that got to do with you, Debbie and I?"  But, I had thought things about Susan and Debbie way back then.  I thought they had not noticed.
"Well, you see, Mrs Sundel, Debbie and I think we should report what you did to us."
"But, I didn't do anything.  I'm beginning to think you should leave now, Susan."
"Well, maybe you did and maybe you didn't; but Debbie and I have another story.  It wouldn't be pretty."
"Why are you doing this, Susan?  What do and Debbie want?"
"Debbie is just my buddy, but she doesn't want anything.  But I do."
"This is all ridiculous, but I'm listening."
"Alright, Mrs. Sundel; I'll tell you.  But, if you don't do it, I'll make it harder on you."

I knew that I had done no more than just look at these two girls.  I had never engaged in any untoward behaviour with them.
Then Susan dropped the bomb; "Of course, there is Georgia to consider too."
Georgia!!!  Another teacher who had left the county two years before.  Georgia and I had . . . been together once.  I thought no one had known.
"Georgia messed with Debbie a few years ago.  And told her about the two of you.  Debbie was why Georgia left."
I certainly didn't want Georgia and Debbie and Susan all to testify against me, although I had never done a thing . . . really wrong at all.

"Tell me something, Susan; just what do you want, anyway?  You are talking about ancient history which never happened anyway, but, like you intimate, it would be no pleasure to defend myself, so what do you really want from me?"
"So, you want this to go away?  And, maybe even have some fun in the process?"
"I don’t know about the 'fun' part, but go ahead and tell me what you are after, and we will see where we are."
"I've really always liked you, Mrs. Sundel; and I think you . . .sort of like me.  Oh, I know how you can't let on, but I know."
"You do, hmm?  So, now, what do you want?  And, if I decide to do it, will you forget this foolishness?"
"Sure."
"Have you and Debbie really teamed up on me?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out."
"Alright then.  Tell me what you want."

Susan reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of . . . . oh, my, handcuffs!
"Take off your clothes - all but your panties - and put these on.  Right now!"
"But, Susan, I'll be helpless."
"Ok then, see you in court."
"Wait, Susan."  A long pause while we stare at each other.  "Oh, alright.  I'll do it.  But what are you going to do to me then?"
"Don't worry about it.  It'll just be you and me.  Now, do it!!"

Susan's eyes were on me.  I stood and began.  Her eyes were on me the entire time as I slowly removed my clothes and laid them on the floor nearby, hoping she would relent.
"So, now what, Susan?"
"Now sit on the floor and, here, use this to tie your ankles together."  She handed me a length of soft, white rope.
I sat, but said, "I just agreed to be handcuffed."
"I think you better do as I tell you.  Ok?"

There was something . . .weirdly interesting about what Susan was making me do.  "Well, alright; I suppose there is no harm."  I took up the rope and began to wrap it around my bare ankles, loosely."
"Tighter, please.  Real tight.  I'll check it later and it better be real tight, or else."
"Oh, alright."  I decided to go along with Susan's demands, somehow knowing that all would be alright.
"Now, above your knees," as she gave me another rope.  As I tied myself up under her directions, I thought the ropes gave my legs an interesting look.
"Alright, now what do you want?"  My ankles and legs were tightly tied together.

She handed me what I now know is called a 'ballgag' and said, "In your mouth and do the straps behind your head.  And I want it deep and the straps tight.  Ok?"
"I guess.  If I have to."  It was awkward to have to gag myself, but I managed.  Humiliating to be treated like this by a teenager, a former student.  
"Tighter!!"  I gurgled and pulled the strap as tight as I could stand.
Next, Susan handed me the pair of handcuffs.  I knew what I had to do.  I put one cuff on my left wrist and ratcheted it down snug, then began to put the other on.
"No!!! Behind your back!!"
So, I shrugged my shoulders, put my arms back, and fumbled the other cuff around my wrist.  Finished now, with all that I could possibly do, I sat and waited.
"Good!  Now, the first thing is that there is no way I would really tell such a thing about you.  Debbie talked to me, but she is not in on this.  It is just you and me.  Ok?"
I knew it!  I had been suckered by this girl.  And now she had me helpless to do with as she wanted.

By the next morning, Susan had made me kiss every little inch of her body, and she had done most of me.  She had released me twice to go to the bathroom, each time making me promise to let her handcuff or tie me again.  Honour made me submit again and again.  Or was it more? And the digital photos!!  Things she would never be able to put in a processing lab.  Of me alone, and of my face against her body.  Easy to recognize me.  She has me now because of them.  She allows me to continue my 'normal' life, but those photos ensure that I will come to her when summoned - usually once a month.

The last time, Susan had become more sadistic than previously.  As usual, she made me strip in front of her while she watched my discomfort with a smirk.  Then she handed me the handcuffs.  I began to put them on behind my back, but she stopped me.  "No.  In front this time."  So, I put the darn things on my wrists in front.  It didn't feel quite so helpless.  Then came the rope.  About ten feet long, with one end tied to the chain between the cuffs.  While she did it, I could easily have overpowered Susan.  She is much smaller than I.  But, the photos!!

Next, Susan held the other end of the rope and led me into my own unfinished part of the basement.  I suspected what was to come, but was powerless to prevent it.  The darn photos!  She got on a stool and threaded the rope over a section of wooden framing, got down, and pulled.  Hard!  Her weight, though much less than mine, drew my arms upward until I was almost up on my toes.  Then she tied the end of the rope to another piece of framing.
"What are you doing, Susan?  This is very uncomfortable."  
"Shush!  Be quiet now."  And she pulled down my panty.  Had a short length of rope ready.  Reached up to hold my nose.  I opened my mouth to breathe, and she forced my panty into me.  And tied it in place very tightly with that rope.  By that time in our relationship, I was resigned to endure whatever Susan decided to dish out to me.  So, I hung there patiently as she withdrew from her ever present duffle, what I recognized as some sort of whip.  About three feet long, black, supple leather, with some sort of thongs on one end - the end I assumed I would soon be struck with.

I tried to shake my head and say 'no,' but it was no use; I knew that Susan would never relent from what she had decided to do to me.  So, I gave up and waited for the hurt to begin.  I knew by then that she would not injure me; after all, I was sort of her property, so why damage me? The first blow shocked me.  Yes, it hurt.  Stung.  On my bare behind.  then they came quickly.  I could see that she was enjoying it too much and might go on for a while.  And she did.  Quite hard on my behind and thighs.  Gentler on my stomach and breasts.
"Want to know why I am doing this to you, Mrs. Sundel?"
I nodded my head.
"Because I can."  Laughter.
Then it ended.  "Are you ready to do you know what?"
I knew what she meant.  Then she removed the gag.  "Then ask me nicely."

I knew that more beating would come if I didn't.  And, by then, I had often done it.  So, I asked, "May I please go down on my knees and give you oral sex, Susan?" 
"Yes, you may, as soon as I prepare you.  You know what I have to do, don't you?  Do you want me to do it?"
"Yes, if you feel you have to."  I knew exactly what she meant.  She would place a loop of rope tightly around my neck to control me while she changed my wrist bindings.  My hands would be free briefly, but she would tug the rope quickly and hard if they even move in that direction.  I knew that I would have to place my arms behind my back as soon as they were untied, and that, only a moment later, they would again be very tightly restrained.

I knew that Susan would force me to my knees and tie my ankles to my thighs so I could not rise.  I knew that she would probably blindfold me.  I knew all of these things because she had done them to me before. Yet, each time there was something different.  Something unexpected.  This time, once blindfolded, I sensed something different as Susan's body touched my face.  It only took a second to realize what the difference was; she had pressed her backside to my face.  She must have used her hands to spread her cheeks as she pressed back against me. I know that you, dear reader, have heard the expression, "kiss my ass."  I have truly learned what it can mean.  And know that I will again. Please do not feel sorry for me.  I am learning to adore Susan and the captivity she imposes upon me.  I'll bet you would too.
 
 

20.09.03