Lesson Plan

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It's been two days. Every bit of my free time has been spent re-living that incomparable experience. Did I miss something? Is she simply some sort of freaky slut who fucks all of her student's fathers? Maybe their mothers, too? Or was that whole scene solely for my benefit?

I've wracked my brain, trying to make sense of how my son's teacher acted, and the brutal way I responded. What puzzled me the most was the incredible euphoria, the sense of power I felt. I've never been that sort of guy, but I'm now re-thinking my relationships with other women, where they went wrong - especially my marriage. Did my wife really think I was 'too nice'? Was I?

I had already decided to start dating again, and to see what happened if I pushed myself to be a little more aggressive. Then Michael came home today with another note.

Tears were streaming from his eyes as he handed it to me. "I - I've been g-good, Daddy!" he stammered. "I d-didn't hit anybody! I p-promise, Daddy!"

"I believe you, Michael," I told him, giving him a hug. "Go on in the kitchen and get yourself some milk and cookies."

He trudged off, but paused at the door. "I like Miss Caldwell, Daddy. She's super nice. She talks to me and listens when I say something. Sometimes she hugs me like you do. I wish Mommy was more like her."

I opened the sealed note. She used her personal stationery, with a pink, floral border. In her flowing style, she wrote:

Mr. Pierce,

You should be pleased to know that Michael's behavior has improved considerably, and he has been fastidious with turning in his homework the last few days.

I am curious why I haven't heard from you again. At our last meeting, I thought that we were making excellent progress on our mutual problem. Your sudden and unexpected departure makes me wonder if you have the fortitude to see this process through. Respect and obedience are paramount; proper discipline is the key, Mr. Pierce.

Unless you have something better than a poor excuse, I will expect you to appear in my classroom promptly upon receiving this, but no later than 4:30PM today. The children have exhausted me. I dare say I'll be in bed before eight tonight. I can be so forgetful when I'm tired. I hope that I remember to lock the front door.

Regards,

Catherine Caldwell

I checked the clock. It was already a quarter after four. I'd never make it in time. But she expected that, I grinned to myself. Perusing the note again, I found what I was looking for. In delicate pink script, printed across the bottom of her personal stationery, was her home address.

As I came up the front walk of her bungalow, just after eight o'clock, I caught a brief glimpse of a shadow behind the pink curtains covering the second window on the right, the only lighted room in the house. Then that light went out, too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So I'm standing on her front porch, staring at the doorknob. There won't be any 'sudden departure' tonight. Michael's sitter doesn't expect me to come home. I have all the time I need to take whatever I want from sassy little Miss Catherine fucking Caldwell.

This time, I'll be looking her in the face while I rape her, my hand around her throat, choking off her protests. Then her prissy little smart-ass mouth is going to clean my cock thoroughly. If she starts up again - no, when she starts up again - I'll flip her over and wear her womanly butt out. Then I think I'll drag her by the hair and soak her tormented bottom in a tub of hot water. I'll enjoy licking her pink pussy until she can't take any more, and then fuck her again. Yeah, up on all fours, mauling those big, firm tits while I drill her cunt from behind, rubbing myself on her sore ass.

'Respect and obedience', she'd written in her note. One way or another, even if she has to miss school tomorrow, she's going to give me the respect I want. Then we'll talk about the next step in her lesson plan.

I stare at the doorknob. There's nothing unusual about the fixture itself, just a normal brass knob. What makes my heart beat faster is the sight of the two heavy ropes draped over the knob, each one about three feet long. A wide, red ribbon is looped around the dangling ropes, about halfway down, and tied in a bow. Through the center of the bow, like an arrow piercing its heart, is her wooden ruler.

A testosterone-fueled rush permeates my body. My cock is practically screaming to get at her. Taking the tools she left for me, I quietly turn the unlocked doorknob and tiptoe into her house.

Yes, I grin. Plenty of time.