Love's Wicked Craft Ch. 01

Chase turned to assess Hannah with a solemn look.

"Are you angry that she left?"

"I was, for a while. She left though because she was angry, about a lot of stuff. She didn't like that the house was mine when I turned twenty-one. That's why she stopped cleaning it, taking care of it, living in it."

Hannah had been watching the lady bug march its way along a branch as a sudden gentle wind whistled through the maple's leaves. Realizing the silence, she turned to see Chase still studying her.

"I'm sorry." Said Hannah, looking away; the woman's eyes being suddenly too much to bare.

"Don't be. I asked, and you shared. Now; I know you just a little bit better."

"How much control do you have over that? Blurted Hannah, lifting her gaze to meet Chase's, "I mean, your eyes; it's like you've got this great big world inside them."

"I've never heard that one before." Chase laughed as she led them past the maple's bows and onto the foot of the hidden trail, "I suppose I have some control in as much as they can, I don't know, seem to disguise or intensify the emotion behind them. I'll tell you though, as far as my profession is concerned: male staff think twice, female staff seldom challenge my judgment on a matter and my students don't even try to lie."

Chase paused, admiring the greenery before her.

"That's not to say that I don't use my baby blues to forward any administrative or academic agenda I might have. There is the level of discipline that is upheld in my school, the quality of the teachers I keep there and the running record of my students' state test scores that prove that Principal Hudson don't fuck around."

"Principal Hudson said fuck." Hannah laughed.

Chase laughed in kind as they rounded an immense oak. Eventually, to their left, the women came upon a sun splashed stretch of quietly babbling brook, a carpet of shade grass rolling out to its bank. Beyond the brook ran stands of flowering shrubs. Gasping, Chase withdrew her phone as she slipped out of her loafers, and then snapped a shot or two. Hannah watched her companion advance into the picturesque scene. Arriving at the bank, Chase scanned the ground at her feet, and then sat. Hannah watched her peer into the rippling water, and then poke the toes of her left foot into the brook.

There Chase remained for a time, not looking back or waving any invitation. Hannah finally shrugged, slipped out of her flats and peeled off her stockings. She took a seat on Chase's left, sitting very close at her side. Settled into their proximity, they sat together in silence as the brook babbled, the birds sang and the warm wind played with the stray strands of their hair.

"Thank you for this." Said Chase, giving Hannah her biggest smile yet, "I'm totally amazed by this place."

Hannah met her gaze, seeing both mystery and truth, varying shades of blue, intermingled, stirred, ocean churning into cloudless sky and cloudless sky into ocean. It was she, eyes wide open, who leaned in first; pressing her lips against Chase's soft, partly opened mouth.

"Your eyes are open." whispered Chase.

"I'm afraid to fall in." Hannah answered, moving her lips gently across Chase's, "Don't tell me you haven't heard that one before."

"Fine then." Chase said through a smile, "I won't. But, I'm thinking that you might want to take ownership of your part of the next one by closing your eyes. I promise; it'll be a good one."

So Hannah did; opening her mouth a little more as her closing eye lids obscured the sight of Chase, her tongue tasting the sweet remnant of banana and passion fruit, her nose breathing in the comforting scent of her hair, the poly cotton clean of her shirt and the lovely honeysuckle soap of her skin. As they whiled through the kiss, Hannah felt Chase cup her palm around the back of her head. She kissed more deeply then, and began to probe with her tongue. Chase responded in kind, kissing and licking so tenderly that Hannah could do nothing but reach her left hand to caress and cradle Chase's cheek.

Then, after they'd drawn apart from their second kiss, each still only a breath away, they joined again for a third. Hannah's sex tingled, her heart began to race and the white noise in her mind was thrilled into silence. After a moment more, it was Chase who drew back first. Hannah glanced briefly into her stunning eyes, observed the redness in her cheeks and neck, and then, suddenly shy, looked away. A fourth kiss would make it even, she thought, but I'd want to start kissing other parts of her after that. And, after all-

"Now," said Chase as they broke, "I need to ask you."

"Ask me?" said Hannah, clearing her throat.

"Are you on the spectrum?"

Hannah's brow furrowed. Again, she glanced at Chase; afraid. She opened her mouth, but only to utter some unintelligible chunk of word. Then Chase observed a single tear welling in Hannah's right eye. She watched it start its trail along her cheek bone before Hannah got to her feet, walked into the brook and crossed to the other side. The bank there had more of a vertical edge, and she chose to lay along it, resting her head against her arm as she stared into the rippling water. Chase studied Hannah for a moment, and then took a long, patient, breath.

Hannah descended the stairs to the large, furnished, basement. To the left was the laundry room, a work out room and another bath. To the right was the play room. Shelving, that supported all of Chase's sowing things, fabrics and scene props, ran along the left wall. To the right and centered in the space, an entire classroom was set up, complete with a chalkboard and its acutramental sticks of chalk and erasers, a projector on a high rolling cart, a pull down screen and a corner book nook at the farthest most right. Arranged in the middle of the open area were a set of seven tablet arm desks. They were set in two rows, the first row comprised of three and the rest arranged behind them. The desks were perfectly aligned and faced the teacher's desk, upon which were arranged the appropriate tools and objects: a vinyl edged bladder, stapler, a mug of pens and pencils, a pointer, a globe, a ruler, a yard stick, a paper tray, a staple remover, a box of tissues and a single, large and leather bound, book.

Hannah entered the space, toting a back pack, and went to her seat, the rightmost seat in the first row. As she withdrew a bottle of water, a pencil and a notebook from her pack, she wished that Chase had middle school desks, the kind that came in two pieces; a desk with a cubby underneath and a separate chair with the thick plastic seat that fit the contours of your bottom, and you could push it back if you wanted. Hannah looked at the big round clock on the wall, tuned to the low buzzing sound it made. Or, maybe those desks that had the cubby tray and you could lift the desk top and pull out what you needed.

The clock, its droning buzz Hannah happened to find soothing, was just like the clock she remembered from second grade. Chase would be there soon. Hannah drank her water, and then drank some more. The low buzzing, she remembered, was what she listened to, focused on, when Mrs. Carlson started trying to talk to her. And, after the talking didn't work, she'd try yelling, and then the buzz, the fly away airplane of it, harmonized with the white noise inside her head and everything was nice and quiet then.

"Hannah?" Chase whispered into her ear, "Can I ask you what you think love means?"

She'd given Hannah five minutes. Then she stood up, crossed the water herself, and then came to rest behind Hannah, spooning her in the grass.

"Love is like a ghost, " answered Hannah in a distant monotone; her eyes still watching the brook ripple and churn, "A nice ghost that goes into a person, and lives there for a very long time, or; sometimes doesn't or maybe most times does."

"Hmm. And; have you had a nice ghost in you?"

"I have. My friend Catherine helped me to keep my ghosts, and she taught me that I have room for more."

"Your kissing is very nice." Chase said, grazing the words along Hannah's ear, "Have you had sex before?"

"Yes," impatiently sighed Hannah, "I've had sex before. Sex is giving big wet kisses with your body. I'm grown up. I'm a grown up. Can we talk like adults now?"

"Do you promise to be honest and to always tell me if I upset you?"

"Yes. Can you tell me why you want me to promise?"

"I want to start dating you."

"For, for how long?" asked Hannah as she rolled onto her back. And faced Chase.

"Well," sang Chase, smiling, "Today counts as our first. It's Saturday. Uhm, how about we learn more about each other over the week, and then we can decide to do something together next Saturday?"

Hannah opened her notebook, and began to transcribe what Chase had written in the top left corner of the chalk board. I will not touch myself in an impure manner while in the girl's lavatory. Hannah took another drink, capped her bottle, and then began to inscribe the numbers one through one hundred in the left margins of the front of the first four pages of her notebook. Next, she copied the entire sentence five times over. Then, arriving half way down the page, Hannah decided to finish the rest of the page with each word, one word at a time. After completing her column of the word not, Hannah emptied her first bottle, and withdrew another from her backpack.

By the time Hannah had finished the entire page, she heard Chase open and then close the front door. Sighing contentedly, Hannah continued to write, starting her second punishment page, watching her columns of words and the even spacing between them. The floors above creaked slightly with Chase's steps. Hannah knew, as she wrote, waited and drank, that Chase was making her own preparations, and that she would be joining her soon. Fifteen minutes later, Hannah heard the opening and closing creak of the basement door, and then light foot falls descending the stairs.

"May I see that questionnaire now?" asked Chase as she played with the top button of Hannah's blouse.

"only if you kiss me again." Hannah replied, watching the brook's reflection in Chase's eyes.

"Why I would be happy to, Ms. Ansley.

Chase took a moment to closely study the clear complexion and gentle slopes and nooks of Hannah's face. Then, she bestowed the kiss; as if constructing it, seeing the potential in the lovely canvas of Hannah's lips, and crafting an artfully layered span of time; arousing warm and sensuously wet coats of sensation that was sure to induce the intended effect. Minutes later, Chase drew back and watched Hannah basking; endorphin high and spellbound. Suddenly, her eyes snapping open, Hannah took a great recovering breath as she reached into her back pocket and withdrew the folded questionnaire. Chase took it, sat up and proceeded to unfold the pages and smooth them out.

"Hmm, let's see." She said.

Hannah, still laying on her back, studied Chase's placid face as she read. Then, as Chase flipped to the second page, Hannah said:

"You put that in the magazine, didn't you?"

Chase met her gaze; her expression quizzical, yet the blue depth in her eyes said nothing.

"I did." She admitted, not looking away, "How did you know?"

"I didn't. I just noticed that the magazine's print was times new roman and the questionnaire's was Arial regular. So, you sort of; lied."

Chase smiled then, her cheeks suddenly pink tinged.

"I deceived you, yes. I'm sorry. Can I make up for it with another kiss?"

"That would be a good start." Hannah answered, her eyes smiling slyly.

Chase's smile brightened.

"And after that, " Chase replied as she loomed in, "How else should I atone for my sin?"

Another kiss flowered between them; tongue slipped and tender.

"You can tell me the truth." Said Hannah, "Are your dirty little secrets as dirty as mine, or are they even dirtier?"

"Well, first thing; we're not dirty when we're looking at ourselves from the inside. As for what I see here, let's just say I think we'll have plenty to talk about."

"White women are the most likely to engage in anal sex," Hannah blurted suddenly, "Particularly if they also have a college degree."

The sudden frankness of the statement sent Chase into such a fit of laughter that she could barely contain herself.

"Oh my God; where do you come up with this stuff?"

"It's my stim. Chase?"

"Yes Hannah?"

"I want to tell you something."

"What's that?"

"I'm a cleaning lady. That's; my job. Otherwise, I have lots of free time; maybe too much."

"Well that's nothing to be ashamed of if you like to clean. Do you like to clean; Hannah?"

"I do. Cleanliness is next to Godliness.

Chase's expression turned suddenly serious; her eyes assessing, mysterious, calculating. Oh I would surely drown, thought Hannah as she peered into their depth. Presently, Chase reached gentle fingers to Hannah's chin, and then; tracing the contours of her features, said:

"Absolutely Hannah. We have a moral duty to keep ourselves clean."

Looking over her shoulder, Hannah watched her lover enter the room. With a poised air, Chase descended from the last step, appearing somehow magnified, exhibiting an allure of severity that wasn't present the first time Hannah saw her lover costumed as she was in that moment. Everything seemed to change in that very instant. There was a rise in temperature, a shallowing of the pitch in the frequency of the wall clock's buzzing drone, a mysterious palpability of the very air and a new smell to it: a mixture of aged wood, starched cloth and Damascus rose incense.

Chase's costume for the scene was a nun's habit, based on the garment of the Benedictine order. From her exterior, to the layers underneath: there was the black tunic covered by a scapular and cowl, with a black veil, beneath which she wore a White coif; the garment's headpiece, with the white cotton cap secured by a bandeau and a white wimple. From a series of hooks across her waist line hung a rosary of wooden beads and metal links; its simple wooden cross dangling beckoningly above Chase's hidden sanctuary.

Hannah rose to her feet, clasped her hands below her breasts, and then made a slight curtsey. Though dressed as chastely as she was, from Hannah's perspective, her lover didn't look even the least pious. The only other time Chase had worn the ensemble she'd tailored herself, had been during a dry run, though it didn't end that way, of the scene; their first scene.

"Good afternoon Sister. Hannah said.

"Ms. Ansley," Chase replied; giving her a short nod as she walked to the seat side of the teacher's desk, "It appears you've been caught yet again, defiling yourself in the school's lavatory. You may sit down."

"Yes Sister." Said Hannah, returning to her seat.

"Ms. Ansley? You do understand why there are no doors in front of the lavatory stalls?

"No Sister. I mean; yes Sister; so that girls like me won't do the dirty things I do."

"But you still do it, Ms. Ansley!" "

"I'm sorry Sister."

Chase set the four bottles of water she'd carried down upon the desk, and then trained a harsh stare on Hannah. Hannah looked immediately down, and resumed inscribing her written punishment. I, I, I, I, I- Chase pulled the leather bound book closer to her reach, and then opened her first bottle of water. As she riffled the pages, Chase finished the first bottle, stowed it into a drawer, and then started another. Will, will, will, will, will, will- Ouch. Hannah paused to shake a small cramp out of her hand. Chase shot a look in her direction, and then slowly got to her feet. Hands clasped behind her, Chase walked over to Hannah's desk, and reviewed her work. Sighing in impatient dissatisfaction, Chase took the note book, perused the pages Hannah had completed, and then summarily ripped them out.

"Start over." She said, taking the crumpled sheets of paper and walking back to her desk.

"But Sister!"

Chase turned on her heel and faced Hannah. a piercing look of madness in her eyes.

"Understand Ms. Ansley," She hissed, her words measured, "That next time, you will be suspended, and after that; you will be expelled. You will start over Ms. Ansley. And you will write each sentence, sentence by sentence, in proper fashion, you stupid, filthy, girl."

Pouting, Hannah held Chase's stare for a few seconds before finally looking away and reaching into her pack for another bottle of water. Chase turned, and walked back to her desk. She resumed her own drinking and the reading of the book as Hannah inscribed a fresh list of numbers. She'd copied the punishment correctly a total of eight times before the pressure was too great to ignore any longer. Chase looked up to see that her student's hand was raised.

"Yes, Ms. Ansley?"

"May I go to the lavatory?"

Chase glared at her, utterly appalled.

"No, Ms. Ansley," she answered, seeming to relish the words," You may not."

"But Sister-"

"I said not right now Ms. Ansley. Now please continue copying your punishment."

Hannah squirmed, but did as she was asked. She was able only to get through two more sentences before carefully rising out of her seat, and walking up to Chase's right.

"Please Sister," Hannah whimpered, her thighs clenched, "I need to go really, really, really bad."

"So you can touch yourself?" Chase accused as she sat demurely upon her chair, "Absolutely not! I rather you soil yourself here."

"But Sister!" cried Hannah, her hands beginning to shake.

In the next instant, Hannah cast her gaze toward the floor and spread her feet slightly as a sudden burst of urine darkened her skirt, cascaded down her bare legs and dripped to the floor. Chase watched with keen interest as the puddle caught the luminescence of the ceiling lights as it widened between Hannah's gleaming leather shoes.

"I'm sorry Sister," Hannah cried, "But you wouldn't let me go."

"Ms. Ansley, what are we to do with you?"

"I don't know Sister. Please; I'm so sorry!"

"You're; sorry?"

"Yes Sister. I'm sorry."

"No. I don't believe you're sorry enough. Be silent! Look at you. Your clothes ,soiled; my floor, soiled. Shame on you, Ms. Ansley. On your knees now girl."

Hannah paused, staring wide eyed at Chase. Then, with effortless speed, Chase took the ruler from atop her desk, and smacked Hannah hard on the outside of her left calf.

"I will not ask you again."

Hannah fell to her knees.

"That's right." Chase softly intoned, "Now; drink. You heard me girl; drink your puddle. Lap it up with your tongue like a cat with her milk."

Hannah did as instructed; dragging her tongue along the floor or slurping up patches as if her piss was the extra soda that rose above the lid of a fast food drink.

Chase returned the ruler to the top of her desk, but let her fingers linger on it, dragging her index finger along its metal edge.

"Yes girl," she uttered in husky solemnity, "That's right; drink it all."

Visibly aroused, her cheeks and neck flushed, Chase stared as Hannah's piss dripped from the tip of her pretty nose and drenched the ends of her hair.

"You need to be disciplined very seriously Ms. Ansley."

"But Sister!" Hannah looked up; pleading in her eyes, urine shining on her nose, lips and chin, "I promise: I'll never do what I did again."

"Get on your feet dirty girl."

Hannah stood. Waiting, she watched Chase's fingers reach the end of the wooden ruler, and slowly lift it off the desk a second time.

"Now; step back Ms. Ansley and drop your underwear."

"Sister!"

"Do not question me young lady. Do as I say!"

Hannah reached under her skirt and pulled the pink cotton panties down to her ankles. Chase stared at her feet and the urine saturated cloth draped upon the inky black surface of her shoes. Turning to face Chase, Hannah realized the hunger that suddenly appeared in Chase's eyes, and made her all the more acutely aware of her own apatite.