Anvil

"Good morning, Andre. Please have a seat." Wallace pointed to the open chair.

The principal gestured for him to push back his hood and pointed to his ears when he sat.

Andre slipped the hood back and popped his earbuds out. He glanced over at Garlin and saw the man's angry expression fade to shock.

"Damn," the coach said.

Wallace shot him a glance, then turned his eyes to Andre. "It's come to our attention that there was a fight behind the school after last bell." Andre nodded. The principal continued. "It seems obvious from your bruising that you were involved."

Garlin snorted and got a stern look from Wallace.

Andre nodded once more.

"We've heard from the others, and the police who I understand spoke with you last night?" Another nod. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Andre looked between the two men, then kept his eyes on the desk surface. He described how he was dragged out to the portable, how angry they were about their girlfriends dumping them, how they blamed him, and how Rick had started them all hitting him. He said he tried to run, but they kept hitting him, so he had to hit back to stop them.

"Could you show us your arms?" Garlin asked and got another weary look from the principal, but he also seemed to want to see.

Giving the principal a questioning look, he got a nod, so Andre pulled his hoodie up over his head, pulling his shirt off at the same time.

Wallace gasped when he saw the bruises covering Andre's arms, torso, and face.

"You can put it back on. Thank you, Andre," the principal said softly. "When you're ready, please go back to your classroom."

Andre stood and straightened out his clothes and nodded before he put the buds back in and the hood up. He left quickly, as he wanted to get his day started.

-=-

When they were alone in the office, Garlin shook his head. "Shit!" he cursed softly.

"The defensive bruising was there just as the police officers said. I have to believe the story Andre just told us, as it's far more believable than what we heard from the others. They couldn't even keep their stories straight."

Garlin nodded. "I have to pull the team from the tournament. None of the injured players are in any condition to play, and I can't substitute that many players this far in."

Wallace gave the coach a bewildered look. "I don't care about the bloody championship! We can't have students bullying others and attacking them in groups! It's bad enough Mr. Marin had his privacy invaded so badly. I'm still waiting to hear from you who it was, by the way. Could it have been one of the hooligans who fought with him last night?"

Garlin's expression must have slipped as Wallace caught it, and his temper exploded. "If you knew who it was, you had to tell me!" His expression changed as he realized what the coach had done. "Oh, my god! You were protecting them to stay in the championship!"

"I never found out which of them took the picture!" Garlin argued in his defense.

Wallace scowled. "But they were all involved?"

Garlin bit his lip, but he'd already spilled too much. "David Trent wasn't in the change room that afternoon, but the others were, though none confessed," he mumbled.

Wallace leaned back in his chair as his eyes locked onto the eyes of the man seated across from him. "You will no longer obstruct my investigation. As of his moment, you're on suspension pending a disciplinary investigation. Get out and go home."

The principal watched the man wearily leave his office. He called the admin desk. "Helen, it's Harry. I've just suspended Jerry Garlin. We need to schedule a disciplinary investigation."

"Oh, my word! What did he do?" the older office administrator asked.

"He withheld the identity of suspects responsible for the Marin privacy breach," Wallace sighed. "Get someone to watch his classes for today and next week too."

"Yes, sir."

"Thanks, Helen. Oh! And one more thing, I'm looking for the names of the girlfriends of several students. They may have evidence in this case."

"I can get that information for you. Just send me the list of students," she said.

"You're the best, Helen!" Wallace said with a smile.

"You better believe it!" she teased back.

Wallace hung up and closed his eyes. Right under his nose. This didn't look good, but he was going to do this by the book.

He would find the guilty party and get some justice for young Mr. Marin and his formidable sister.

Chapter 10

For Andre, life at school settled into a new state of normal over the next two months. He was now sitting in the back of every class, and the other students left him alone, mostly.

Occasionally, one of the ladies he used to sit next to would smile back at him or wave. He did his best to ignore these efforts. He didn't understand their intent, and it didn't feel safe to speak to them.

The five students who attacked him had been expelled. The school had a zero-bullying policy, and because of the viciousness of the attack, they were enforcing it to the full extent. He and Cassandra were told their permanent record would reflect their actions. Some had already lost potential scholarships.

The principal had also come through with his investigation into the privacy breach. To protect themselves from legal action, Rick, Henry, and Kevin confessed Greg Davis took the picture and arranged for it to be distributed through the school's network. That's when it got out that Greg's partner in crime wasn't a female student he was having sex with, but a fellow named Brian... who Greg was having sex with.

All this drama largely passed above Andre's notice as he focused on completing his final year.

Another unfortunate outcome of the exposure was that his job dried up at the electronics store. His boss wouldn't look him in the eye but told him they had to lay off some staff. It seemed like he was the only one. Cassandra told him not to worry about it, as he should just concentrate on completing high school.

His math teacher introduced the idea of attending a math competition at the end of the school year. He'd been practicing with the more advanced principles and found it very relaxing. He wasn't sure if a competition was something he wanted to do, but he enjoyed stretching his math skills. Cassandra was pleased he was finding something to do after school that made him happy.

Their home life was getting better, too. Andre still got too excited when she sat close to him on the sofa when they watched movies.

Cassandra was finishing up her night college course, and her grades were the best in her class. She still came home late, sometimes smelling of alcohol, but he'd take care of her and tuck her into her bed. She always smiled so sweetly when he did that.

The school year was almost over, and he only had a couple more weeks to go. At the beginning of the year, Cassandra had him apply to several prestigious schools as his grades were at the top of his classes, and he was fast-tracking for a scholarship. He'd written essays, with her help, and two of his teachers wrote recommendation letters for him.

Months later, he'd received acceptance letters from two of the six he'd applied to, but the Massachusetts Institute of Technology was the one he chose.

Cassandra assured him that when she graduated from her course, she'd be able to get a job in Cambridge, and had already done some research into that, so he wouldn't be alone, and they could continue to live together. He was so relieved about that!

Math was his last class of the day, so once the rest of the students fled the building, he stayed behind to review the next section in the advanced principles textbook with the teacher.

This was quickly becoming his favorite class.

-=-

Ilsa Jäger smiled at Andre as he moved to the desk before hers at the front of the classroom. She stood and brought the textbook to him. She set it down and opened it to the next unit in the book.

She watched as his eyes scanned over the page, and he seemed eager to learn.

"Mr. Marin, you enjoy these sessions, don't you," Ilsa said.

He looked away from the textbook to glance at her and nod.

"You have a most exceptional mind. Very focused," she continued with a smile.

He nodded to her as his eyes returned to the book.

"During the competitions, they will try to distract you from the work. You can tune this out, can't you."

Andre nodded as he worked his way down the page, absorbing the formulas.

Ilsa nodded to herself and crossed the room to the door, which she closed after scanning the empty hallway outside. Watching Andre, she locked the door and closed the blinds over the door's glass. She shut off the overhead lights, leaving only the front of the room lit, but Andre never looked up. She smiled, walked to the back of the room, and crossed over to the windows.

Her classroom was in the oldest, original part of the building. Her antique casement windows faced a wall of hedges the administrators planted decades earlier to prevent easily distracted students from daydreaming. While she had no actual view or much natural light, she preferred the dark for working and was pleased to teach in the old room.

Principal Wallace was trying to replace the building with something new, but the promise of funding had yet to be realized. She'd refused the offer to move her classes to the ugly portables behind the school.

She began quietly closing the Venetian blinds from the back of the room to the front, keeping an eye on Andre, but he just turned the page to start reading the next part.

When all the blinds were closed, Ilsa felt safe in her dark little oasis of calm. This was her domain, where she was the apex predator, and her prey sat before her.

She was standing at the front of the classroom next to her desk. She collected a tissue from a box on the low bookcase by the window and carefully wiped her lipstick from her lips. It wouldn't do to leave evidence behind.

Since that morning months before, when she'd received a message with a special attachment, she'd been hunting this particular young man. She'd carefully studied him, reviewing his mannerisms and movements. She listened to his speech patterns when he chose to speak and monitored his social patterns. The more she knew about him, the more impatient she became to spring her trap to capture him. She wanted him, and he would be hers.

Ilsa was extremely aware of the dangers inherent in the game she was playing. To make a mistake was to lose everything she'd built for herself.

Math was her first love, and teaching it was her second. She knew math would never fail her, but her ability to continue teaching it depended very much upon her doing this perfectly.

Her third love should have been her husband, but the man she married was weak. When they'd met years earlier, she'd thought he'd be her perfect mate. He was from an affluent and influential family, he was a partner at the law firm he worked at, and she'd grown accustomed to the luxuries his wealth and position afforded her. He didn't even make a fuss when she insisted she'd keep her last name when they married. But now, he disappointed her in so many ways. His most unforgivable sin was his inability to excite her sexually. She'd been unable to achieve even the smallest orgasm from his efforts.

Then she saw the image of a young god amongst mortals.

His body was sculpted of flesh, but she knew he would feel like marble beneath her.

Ilsa had planned her movements and set her trap. She studied her prey and finally lured him in with the only bait that would work on such a kindred spirit. She could tell math was Andre's first love as well.

And now he was going to be hers.

She approached Andre from behind and saw he was already on the third page. A thrill shot through her as he understood!

"Math is a universal language which contains no lies or misconceptions. It is pure," she said softly and saw him nod slowly.

She unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders to drape it over the desk behind Andre. She undid her skirt and stepped out of it, placing it on the desk as well. Next, she slipped her panties down her long, toned legs. She smiled, as she was already wet with anticipation. She was standing behind him in just her bra, stockings, a garter belt, and her high-heeled shoes she'd slipped on before he arrived.

Ilsa was aware of the lustful stares the young men secretly aimed at her. The male faculty members weren't immune to her looks as well. She knew she was beautiful, with pale blue bedroom eyes, a slim nose, and naturally full lips. She only needed a subtle emphasis with eyeshadow, eyeliner, and lipstick to completely capture a man's attention. She wasn't quite in her forties yet and carefully maintained her looks for maximum impact. Her gleaming, straight blonde hair reached mid-back. Her muscles were firm and toned from vigilant gym visits.

This exercise had robbed her of her modest breasts, so she had her otherwise worthless husband pay for her new breast implants and worked her way up to an F cup bra. He wasn't pleased with his investment, protesting pathetically once she passed her C cup implants, but they weren't for him. She felt sexy, and she enjoyed how easy it was to manipulate men once she had them.

Her ultimate goal was right before her, and it was time to make her efforts pay off.

She reached out with her right hand and ran her fingers through the silky black hair on the back of his head. She felt him freeze at the sensation.

The prey was aware of the predator, but it was too late.

-=-

Andre's focus was on the pages before him, but amongst the sensory barrage flooding into his mind, he picked up the room was becoming darker. He knew Mrs. Jäger was telling him about the competition and distractions, so he assumed she was testing his ability to focus. She had no idea how much experience he had with this.

When she touched him, he froze as memories crashed through his mind. Sensations sticky, pungent, heat, and pain obliterated all other input as thoughts of Gloria crowded into his mind. The pressure of her endless demands and the feeling of her much larger body trapping his became jumbled up until he couldn't separate them. Jäger's touch became the only input for his focus. He felt himself begin to whimper and clamped down on that as the teacher's grip tightened.

It was happening again.

-=-

"Your hair is so fine... yet strong." Ilsa closed her fingers into a fist, gripping his hair as she slowly pulled his head back, turning his face upwards. She slid her other hand down inside his shirt collar and across his upper chest until she found his nipple. She pinched it and tugged, and his mouth opened in a gasp.

She trapped his mouth with hers and kissed him deeply, feeling his body trembling.

He was submitting to her!

She felt powerful and hungry for him at the same time, but she was going to enjoy him slowly.

Ilsa roughly tugged on his nipple once more, and he squirmed with the mix of pain and pleasure.

She pulled him to his feet and turned him to face her, her hand still gripping his hair. She saw his eyes were glassy. Lust or tears she couldn't tell, and truthfully, she didn't care. He was hers.

She used her left hand to yank up on his sweater and shirt until he got the idea and helped her lift them over his head. She had to release his hair, but the moment she did, she spun him around and marched him to the end of her desk, and forced him to bend over it. He finished pulling his sweater and shirt off while she reached under him and undid his belt and pants. She tugged them down, and they came off with his boots.

She stood and spun him around to face her, then seized his hair in both her hands and kissed him hard again as she pushed him back over her desk. She'd cleared the surface earlier in preparation or exactly this.

As he fell back onto the polished surface, she ended their kiss, stood, grabbed his underwear, and yanked them down.

There it was, that glorious cock she'd fantasized about for months. Only now, it was on its way to becoming stiff with need.

Fuck, it was beautiful! Her husbands couldn't compare. She wrapped her fingers around it and gave it a squeeze. Andre moaned once more, and a flash of tingles rushed through her. She cupped his testicles in her palm and thrilled over their weight.

She had to taste him. Keeping a firm grip on the root of his cock, Ilsa extended her tongue and leaned over him to stroke the thick head with the tip, licking up his pre-cum.

Fuck! She was getting so excited! Ilsa couldn't wait any longer, so she pressed her lips against the head and slowly opened her mouth to accept more and more of his magnificent cock into her mouth. Her head was spinning with desire, and she felt like a giddy schoolgirl, finally getting what she wanted after such a long time.

Andre was making odd, little sounds, but she ignored him as he tasted too good, and she almost had him to the back of her throat. He was so thick! Her pussy juices were running down her thighs, and she had to have him inside her. Now!

Reluctantly, she drew his cock from her mouth but kissed all the way down his shaft and sucked his heavy balls into her mouth to bathe them with her tongue. Shit! She was going to cum too soon if she didn't stop this! She stood up and walked boldly around her desk, as he looked up at her nervously. She grabbed his wrists, lifted them above his head, and pulled him further onto her desk so she'd have room to straddle him. Looking at his gorgeous, masculine body, stretched out across the wood desk, made her mouth water. There was so much she wanted to do with him, but there wasn't time today. She'd make alternate arrangements another day to spend more time with him.

Releasing his wrists, she moved to the middle of the desk and climbed on. She swung a leg over him and immediately sat, trapping his cock between them. She gasped at the heat pressing against her pussy lips and felt shocks run through her deliciously.

She reached back and undid the clasp on her bra. She let it slip down her arms and saw his eyes drawn to her large, round breasts with their thick and stiff nipples. She leaned down to press them against his face, rubbing them against his cheeks and mouth.

"Suck them!" she demanded, then gasped as she felt his tentative tongue pulling one of her nipples into his mouth. He stroked his tongue across and around the stiff bud, and she gasped aloud again as he sucked. Her hips were rocking uncontrollably, grinding against his stiff cock almost painfully, and Andre cried out sharply, releasing the nipple.

She sat up and looked down between their bodies, but he hadn't come yet. That was both surprising and pleasing, as she wasn't finished. She lifted herself up on her knees and reached between them to position the fat head at the lips of her pussy. She rubbed it back and forth, coating him with her juices. She shuddered and jolted each time she felt the head rub her clit until she couldn't take anymore and pushed down as he was lined up.

The head forced its way inside her, and she stopped as he was already stretching her wider than she'd felt before. It was glorious!

-=-

Gloria touched him in ways a stepmother shouldn't, and her touches were meant to hurt. She didn't want Andre to feel good, as she told him he didn't deserve it. She had to punish him, yet his flesh denied her as she triggered a response she couldn't control. For Andre, losing control over his body seemed to be the worst part of her violation. The memories swarmed like angry wasps, and he couldn't think as once more his body responded automatically.

"no..."

-=-

She looked down in surprise and saw his glassy eyes were looking up at her.

No? There was no stopping now!

She reached down and pinched his nipples hard as she gave him a stern look. "Hush." His eyes closed, and tears rolled back from his eyes into his hair.