Punishing Miss Primrose
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The Last Days Of Miss Primrose free porn video
THE LAST DAYS OF MISS PRIMROSE
©C. Smith 2004
1. The Abduction
Damn! He hates to plan these things at the last minute. Too many thingscan go wrong. But she has to be done quickly and he has, after all, considerableexperience at this sort of thing, although never before in haste or with someonehe knows. Just means he has to be more careful and more clever. Besides, dangerhas always been part of the thrill, hasn't it?
So far he's been lucky. The self-righteous bitch was stupid enough to alerthim of her intentions. Actually came into his room after all the students hadcleared out, pranced right up to his desk so she could tell him in privatethat she'd been watching him.
"What do you mean, ogling ?" he'd replied, as if shockedat the suggestion.
"Just what I said, Mr. Madden," she'd snapped back. "I've seen you oglingthe students — or more specifically, the pretty female students — notonly in the corridors but in the cafeteria. You probably do it right in yourown classroom, too. It's outrageous! And if you don't put a stop to it, I'mgoing to say something to the principal."
Something in his look made her change tack slightly.
"It would be for your own good," she had weaseled. "I'm not saying you doanything more than look , but imagine what could happenif one of those fifteen year old Brittany Spears wannabes decided she didn'tlike the grade you gave her in algebra and accused you of groping her? Do youimagine none of her friends would back her up with recollections of how you'vebeen staring at their boobs and crotches? Never mind that everything they wearis shrink-wrapped. The point is that they wear that stuff for the benefit ofthe boys their age, not for a presumably grown-up teacher."
Two things had come into his mind. First and foremost, he had better suckup to this trouble maker and go for damage control. Second, he had never beforehad an opportunity to examine the foxy new English teacher up close. Miss LiliPrimrose, he dutifully observed, was a striking beauty. Fresh out of college,she was probably no more than twenty-two or twenty-three, with hypnotic eyesthat matched the dark chocolate of her long, flowing hair. She had pert lips,a small, sweetly upturned nose that perfectly complemented the delicacy ofher oval face, and a figure that promised to be spectacular, even though itwas cloistered, at the moment, in an austere, terribly professional suit.
He had torn his eyes away from her, adopted a stricken look and let hisgaze drop to his desk in a convincing display of shame.
"I'm embarrassed," he'd said. "I guess I hadn't realized I was doing that.I mean, I don't really mean to stare at the girls, 'ogle' them, as you putit. But the way they dress these days, it's hard to look away sometimes. Butyou're absolutely right. It's a matter of propriety. I'll have to be more consciousof . . . of where my eyes are focused."
She backed off a little, her face softening. "They're only children, afterall," she went on. Her indignation vindicated, she had slipped into her teachermode. "We have to make sure they respect us as mentors. It's not appropriatethat we appear to be appraising them sexually, even if their hormones are atfull throttle. It would break an important trust."
She had gone on, blathering sexual harassment shit, regurgitating the sameanal crap the school department threw at them all the time, as if he'd justbeamed down from Mars and had never heard it before. But he had kept his maskof shame in place.
"This is terrible. Are other teachers complaining about me," he'd askedmeekly.
"No, not yet. But I can't believe they haven't noticed."
"You mean you haven't been discussing it with anyone?"
"No. I don't do gossip. I'm bringing it up with you in the hope that I won'thave to go any further with it. But if I see you doing it again. I will reportit to the principal. What any one teacher does here reflects on all of us."
"Of course, of course!" he had agreed. "Thank you for your candor, MissPrimrose. I appreciate your telling me all this. I obviously need to controlmy male impulses better."
She'd been unable to resist another jab. "You need to remember that mostof these girls are minors, and as a male you are vulnerable to serious consequencesif you overstep the boundaries of your position."
He had looked directly into those magnificent eyes. "Absolutely. Again,I appreciate your bringing this to my attention. I won't forget."
And he has not.
He's been planning ferociously ever since.
She's a loose canon, far too dangerous to his career and avocation to beleft bouncing around free. Fortunately, there's still time. The dumb bitchsealed her own fate when she admitted she hasn't yet mentioned her poisonousobservations to anyone else. Now he just has to make sure she never does. Butin doing so, it would be too bad to waste all that ripe young beauty. No problem.He knows just how to seal her mouth while putting her body to good use.
He happens to possess three bits of information that will make the projecteasier. He knows she has a boy friend and where he lives. He also knows herroutines at the school.
Routine one. Like most suburban high schools, Geoffrey Bartholomew Highhas barely sufficient parking for the entire body of students, faculty andstaff. Miss Lili Primrose had soon discovered that there's always a slot tobe found out behind the maintenance building, and that it's not all that farfrom the classroom complex.
Routine two. For some reason she always stays late on Fridays, probablyhelping some dullard student. Unlike Byron. He's always off for a weekend ofsport, sometimes the kind of sport they show on TV, sometimes the participatorykind in his hidden retreat.
But not today. Today he's still on the school grounds two hours after classeshave ended. The school and the lot are empty. Except for Miss Primrose's silverToyotta Echo and his own black SUV parked beside it.
Finally he sees her coming around the corner of the maintenance building,juggling her purse and her books, fishing for her car keys. He climbs out ofhis SUV.
"Hello, Miss Primrose."
"Hi." She looks puzzled. "What are you doing hereso late?"
"Same as you, I suppose. Unfinished business."
"Oh." she says, a little guiltily. Perhaps she has underestimated his concernfor his students. "I mean, usually this parking area's deserted at this timeof day. So you're working late?"
"Nope. I just wanted to show you something. This should be of interest toyou."
They are standing beside her car now. He's on her right side and has beenpalming a huge veterinarian's syringe in his right hand, the type used forlarge animals, except that the needle has been clipped to a stub. He producesit as if from nowhere, like a magician. "See this?" He aims it at her car,pushes the plunger about a quarter of the way and a tight spray of liquid squirtsout on to the door. The paint immediately begins to bubble up. It peels away,hissing and steaming.
"What are you doing?!" she shrieks.
He reaches behind her with his left hand and seizes her outside wrist ina painful grip. Then turns the syringe and points it at her face.
"It's filled with an acid concentrate," he informs her casually, "whichwill remove your face as effectively as that paint if you utter another word.Understand?"
She holds her breath, terrified.
"Put your other hand behind your back!" he orders, his voice suddenly fierce.
She does so quickly, staring intently at the syringe. A drop of liquid detachesitself from the end of the truncated needle and sizzles on the pavement ather feet.
He clamps a pair of plastic cuffs on her wrists, the type that have to becut off. With a firm grip on her arm and the needle pointed at her head, heshoves her rudely into the back seat of his SUV. In a smooth motion perfectedby long practice, he puts her into a half nelson, removes a chloroform soakedrag from a plastic baggy and clamps it over her mouth until she slumps unconscious.In another minute she is trussed up with belts around her ankles, knees andarms. He shoves a thick cotton sock in her mouth and secures it in place withclear wrapping tape wound around her head three times. Then he buckles a dogcollar around her neck, attaches a chain leash to it and pushes her to thefloor, wedging her between the front and back seats. He secures her neck tothe floor track of the front passenger seat with the leash. A waiting lengthof rope secures her ankles to the seat track on the driver's side. He throwsa blanket over her.
Several minutes later he is cooly passing through the well manicured residentialoutskirts of town looking for a certain unoccupied house which happens to havea long driveway that sweeps around to the back out of sight. He knows thathis passenger on the floor behind him will soon begin to revive from the effectsof the chloroform. He spots the For Sale sign he's been looking for and pullsinto the driveway, just as she starts to thrash about, making muffled noisesinto her gag. He rolls past the neglected lawns, around the deserted house,and pulls up close to the garage in the back where a six foot high stockadefence assures visual privacy. He leaves the engine idling. They won't be herelong.
He peels back the blanket a little, revealing his captive's eyes, flashingwith indignant fury. She's trying to protest this outrage, but the words aremangled by her gag. Sighing, he climbs out of the car, walks around to thepassenger side, opens the door next to her head and positions the syringe needledirectly in front of her face. Her expression quickly shifts from anger tohorror.
"Have you already forgotten the effects of the acid, Miss Primrose?" heasks benignly. "Would you like me to spray a little into your eye to remindyou?"
She jerks her head away, turning it into the carpet. "'O, 'o, 'o!" she squeaksthrough the sock in her mouth.
Sympathetic to her speaking difficulties, Byron tells her he accepts thisanswer as "no," but warns her that she must remain silent and motionless forthe rest of their journey or he will be forced to teach her the folly of disobedienceby reducing one of her pretty eyes to a smoldering ruin.
"Furthermore," he elaborates, "it will be a fairly long trip, so get usedto your accommodations. And let us hope that we're not pulled over for anyreason, because if some cop gets nosy about what's under the blanket, I willbe forced to use the semi-automatic hidden in my door pocket to quench hiscuriosity. That, in turn, will cause me major inconveniences, which will reallypiss me off. In fact, I'd be so pissed, I would undoubtedly inject the restof this acid into your lovely little ear and watch it boil its way into yourbrain. Do I make myself clear, Miss Primrose?"
She nods vigorously, still keeping her eyes buried in the gritty carpet.She causes no further disturbance for the balance of their journey.
Trisha
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