Disciple & Master Pt. 01

Marilyn was anxiously awaiting her first class of the year. She was starting her second season in high school. She took long, deep breaths to calm herself. The first year had gone superbly well and the director had given her her first senior class. The schedule called for her to start with her first Monday morning.

The students were coming in. She looked at them and was struck by the fact that they were "little" adults, the girls were well dressed, some even wearing light make-up. Except for one or two, the boys were real young men. She introduced herself and the class began. A quarter of an hour after the class started, the director knocked on the door and entered with a young man. From the murmurs of some of the girls in the class when they saw him, Marilyn realised that she was not the only one to be blown away by his presence. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His brown curly hair framed a serene and determined face. His large light green eyes were enhanced by his tanned skin. His smile was charming with a hint of mischief that carved a lovely little dimple in his cheek.

The director introduced him and then left them. Marilyn made an effort to hide her appreciation and asked him to take a seat. Marc went to sit in the last row. Marilyn appreciated his round buttocks which were well shaped by his jeans. She tried to remain very discreet and the attention of the other students was focused on him. She had a little difficulty to recover the attention of the class, but succeeded after a few minutes of confusion. As the students filled in their information sheets, she observed him. He must have been an athlete, because his shirt molded his powerful torso advantageously. He exuded an ease and naturalness that was disconcerting. Her mind was beginning to race and she called herself to order immediately.

The class began in earnest and she noticed that Marc was staring at her for a long time. No one at school had ever commented on her outfit. As it was still warm in early September, she had opted for a tight, slightly low-cut top and a sheath skirt that stopped just below the knees. The boys in the class didn't seem to mind except for Marc. She felt a little uncomfortable. The end-of-class bell startled her and she placed her hand over her beating heart. The students laughed. She joined them and told them they could leave their cards on her desk. She gathered them up and looked at them absently.

Unconsciously she stopped at Marc's and read it in detail. He had good handwriting for a teenager. She smiled to herself, realizing that she was trying to make him look younger. She placed it at the end of the pile and lectured herself for the umpteenth time. The students in her second class of the day finished distracting her from Marc and the end of the day passed without a hitch. In the evening she found it difficult to get Marc's thoughts out of her head. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror after her shower.

"Get a grip, girl! He's just a teenager!" she convinced herself. She promised herself that she would pull herself together and be professional with all her students. With her good resolutions and confidence, she went to bed.

The first few weeks passed quickly and she had managed to regain her self-control. During the first few classes she had discreetly observed him and his attitude showed that there was no sign of any interest in her. Reassured, she managed to consider him as just another student. He didn't participate much in class, but when she asked him to speak, his answers were smart and sometimes even amusing.

Everything changed when the students gave her their first assignment. She sat comfortably on her sofa with a glass of red wine and corrected them. When she opened Marc's, a small piece of paper fell out. She bent down to pick it up and found four handwritten lines. She read them and immediately felt a warmth rush through her. They were four richly rhyming lines, innocuous at first glance. She immediately understood the second meaning of the poem and it excited her. His poem, if he was the author, was particularly subtle and refined. She immediately pulled herself together and shook off her excitement, for it was completely inappropriate. She had to put an end to this as soon as possible. She found it difficult to be impartial in correcting his paper because she was so angry with him and with herself.

The next class she watched him, but his behaviour was impeccable. Throughout the hour her anger subsided, as he gave her no reason to fuel it. She still asked him to stay at the end of the class.

When all the students had left, she turned to Marc. She expected him to approach her desk, but he did not, merely staring at her intently from his seat. She fought the excitement that was building up inside her. He exuded such confidence for his age! This was not normal. She did her best to hide it from him and stood up to approach him. His big green eyes hypnotized her. She stopped in front of his desk and managed to keep her voice clear and firm.

"Marc you have to stop this right now!"

He smiled, flashing his charming little dimple, which shook her slightly. She resisted.

"Didn't you like it?" he asked, looking mischievous.

"That's not the point, Marc! This is a completely inappropriate gesture on your part and I want it to stop immediately, have I made myself clear?

She was proud of herself, for her tone was firm and sharp as she had intended. Her confidence lasted only a moment, for he continued to smile at her.

"Very well, Miss Bernard."

He got up and calmly left the classroom. Marilyn's heart was pounding. How could a young man of seventeen make such an impression on her? She took a few minutes to reassure herself that he wouldn't do it again, but nothing was less certain and a part of her wanted more. She went to the bathroom and, once she was sure she was alone, she spoke to herself in the mirror. She lectured herself. She took a few long breaths to calm herself and headed back to her classroom.

When she placed the new pile of papers on her dining room table, she was tense. She tried to calm down and concentrate on the Marcing. When she reached Marc's, her heart raced. She feverishly opened the copy and saw not a small piece of paper, but a whole sheet. She picked it up, crumpled it up and threw it in the bin without even reading it. She finished correcting the papers and decided to go to bed. She couldn't sleep. A part of her longed to read what he had written to her. She struggled and struggled for long minutes. Mad with rage, she threw back the duvet, got up and retrieved it from the dustbin. She returned to her bed and began to read it.

She felt her excitement flare up as she read through the sultry lines of the letter. The words were fine, cleverly sensual without being crude. She felt a ball of heat rising in the pit of her stomach. The further she went, the more excited she felt and she even began to caress herself as he described so well. When she reached the end, she was outrageously frustrated. She wanted more! So she read it again and again. By the time she put the paper on her nightstand, she was feverish and finished masturbating to orgasm. She exploded with hot scenes in her mind of their bodies tightly entwined in passionate lovemaking.

Although she wanted with all her mind to order Marc not to do it again, she didn't have the courage to tell him so when she handed in the papers the next day. She knew it was a mistake. She should have continued to resist, but she could not bring herself to do so. She found herself waiting for the next corrections and she was spoiled. His writing was so vivid that she had no trouble imagining it and often found herself in a state of confusion once the next text had been read and re-read. It was then that Marc's attitude in class changed and gradually began to become disturbing.

Wanting to stop this as soon as possible, she cracked down and gave him an hour's detention for the following Saturday. She was pleased to see that the punishment had an effect as he returned to a correct behaviour. At the end of the class, when all the students had left, she asked him to explain his conduct. Then, with his disarming smile, he pointed out that she was the teacher on duty for the detentions that Saturday. Her heart raced and she found it extremely difficult to hide her discomfort. He smiled and left. When she opened Marc's essay that week, there was only a piece of paper with the following words:

'Sexy and permissive.'

She was stunned by his audacity. She was even more stunned by her excitement about it. For the next few days she was in a constant state of inner conflict. Her rational side ordered her to put an end to this unacceptable situation and her primal side vibrated with excitement and anticipated with delight what was about to happen.