Miss Lilly's Spring Surprise

And smile, don't forget to smile, she reminded herself, and finding that the smile had slipped she plastered it back on as Principal Steele said something. Something she didn't catch. Her heart pounded as she asked: "Sorry, Mr. Steele, what was that?"

Steele frowned. "I said, are you feeling alright, Miss Lilly?"

"Oh yes, fine," she said, grinning for all she was worth. "Fine, fine, fine, thanks, just fine. Just fine. Thank you."

A treacherous trickle of sweat was making its way down between her shoulder blades as she felt the Constable's gaze boring into her. All their faces were so stern, so serious. The vibe in the room was a thousand times more icy and forbidding than she'd prepared herself for, even hostile. What could be wrong? She felt her breath quickening in panic, fought to steady it. They don't know. They... they can't know. Can they? Oh please God.

Jim Long was saying something. Something about performing... how she felt she'd performed. Turning away from the stony faces of Steele and Rodney, she pointed her smile at Long's confused-looking frown and said: "It's been a really positive few months for me, Mr. Long, thank you. I feel really good about being here."

Long's frown deepened as he said: "Uh... I'm glad to hear that, Miss Lilly, but the question was how do you feel your students have performed over the past three months."

I'm blowing it. The panicked thought skittered across her mind like a leaf dancing on undercurrents of hysteria. This is like a nightmare.

But she gamely kept her smile plastered on and said: "Oh, I'm sorry. I meant to say that it's been really, really positive for the students. For me and the students. I feel so good about being here with them, I feel like they're really adjusting to me, like, like they're getting to know me. And also that I'm getting to know them really well. It's been wonderful, I... I feel really... good about it. Them. The students."

As if against her will, her eyes were drawn back to Mr. Steele as she babbled -- finding his expression blank and frozen as a mahogany carving -- and then to the Constable. His gaze grabbed and held her, burning bright with suspicion, and with... something else. Elation? The excitement of having a criminal in his grasp? She saw the tension in the thick, bull-like neck that bulged above the collar of his uniform, the ferocious, almost angry clench to his jaw.

No, no, he can't know, they can't know. Get it together, girl! She yanked her focus back to Steele as he asked: "And would you say you have a good understanding of our school district's rules and regulations? Our expectations of student and parent responsibilities, staff conduct, that sort of thing?"

"Oh, absolutely!" she heard her voice skirl up and squeak, the word absolutely emerging far too loudly. She clapped her hands over a hysterical giggle, swallowed it, steadied herself and said: "Absolutely, thank you, Mister Steele. Everyone's been really helpful and supportive, I really feel like they've made it possible for me to do right by our student body. And to live up..." Her throat closed momentarily, but then she forced out the words: "... to live up to... to the moral standards our children deserve."

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of water, Miss Lilly?" Jim Long's nasal voice sounded concerned.

But she didn't have time to turn and address him before the Constable's voice cut in, harsh and demanding. "Can we talk a little more about that, Miss Lilly?"

She froze, looked back at him, found herself caught guiltily again by that predatory stare. Went for a casual tone: "Ah... about what?"

"Morals." Long and Steele were both looking at the Constable with hints of confusion, as if he were speaking out of turn, but she barely noticed it as his intense eyes held her trapped. "You see, we do have certain moral standards to uphold here at Barrymore Collegiate. Legal ones, too. Are you aware of the new Teacher Testing regulations?" She felt frozen, shook her head numbly as he went on: "Governor McBain's office brought them in just last month."

"Really?" She could hear how breathy and faint her voice was, fought to speak out more strongly: "I -- uhhh, no, I hadn't heard... anything about..."

"Just a formality, really," Steele said. She gratefully took the excuse to look back at him... except his flat eyes and stony visage were not much more encouraging than Rodney's. "We're required to follow up all temporary teacher contract evaluations with a mandatory drug test. Doesn't mean we don't have every confidence in you, of course... errr, Miss Lilly? Miss Lilly."

She was frozen again, as if encased in a bubble of shock. The words drug test rattled around in her whirling brain with the other things in a dreadful cacophony of guilt and dread. My God. They know. They must know. Oh my God. Steele repeated her name a couple times more before she was able to shake herself free of the paralysis, but all she could think to do was weakly echo: "Uh... drug test?"

"You know how it is," Jim Long said, perhaps trying to sound soothing -- with his permanently nasal monotone it was hard to tell -- as he got up and went over to a nearby bookshelf. She heard him pouring a glass full of liquid as he added. "Republican Senate and all. These are the times in which we live. Constable Rodney will escort you over to the nurse's office after we're done our interview, the tests are rapid-screening... so you should have the results within a few minutes. Preliminaries to lab confirmation, of course. Here, have some water."

Within a few minutes. Long pressed a cool tumbler of ice water into her hand. She couldn't suppress the tremors of fear that set it loudly shaking as she looked at it abstractly. A sudden, acute fantasy played across her mind of teleporting out of this room and leaving it all far behind; Lana Lilly had never felt more terribly cornered in her young life. After another trembling moment, she lifted the glass and gulped some of the water down, slamming the tumbler down abruptly on the desk in front of her, nearly spilling it before she righted it.

Jim Long was sitting back down on her right, the three men forming a dreadful phalanx of stern judgement around her. A feeling of doom descended on her... but there was nothing left but to play out the charade and pray. Plastering on what she felt must be her sickliest smile yet, she tried to approximate a resolute nod. "Okay, then," she said. "Okay. Rules are rules, I'm... I'm fine with that. Let's get on with it." At least if it's just the drugs...

A long moment drew out as the three of them stared at her. It seemed to last an eternity.

* * *

As he watched the exquisite Miss Lilly wriggle like a worm on a hook, it occurred to Constable Richard Rodney that he'd never seen anything go quite so horribly wrong... and yet feel so perfectly right.

For months, he's watched her in the hallways, seen her in the staff room. Swanning around with that supple young cock-teasing body as if she hadn't a care in the world, a molecule of appreciation for what the outline of her perky breasts and alluring ass were doing to the men around her. He'd fantasized about her, luridly, viciously, with the peculiar attention to detail that only a man who'd been divorced and sexless for six long years—save for the attentions of prostitutes—could muster.

He adored her. He hated her. He wanted her. He despised her. The imagined sounds of her squeals haunted night after night of feverish dreams about taking her tight pussy, violating her tighter arse, plugging her throat with his stiff, rampant prick and watching tears of shame streak down that perfectly-sculpted face. The imagined sounds of her shrieks of dismay and despair echoed through waking fantasies of putting her across his lap and spanking the fuck out of her like a wayward schoolgirl. Visions he'd been sure, in the depths of his soul, would never see the light of day.

And yet. Here she was. Clearly undone by the mere sight of him in the interview room. Befuddling Steele and Long with the sheer degree of her befuddlement, her strange behaviour throwing off the expectation the she would get through the interview unscathed. The possibility of her coming to pieces before they even got to the real prank had never occurred to any of them, not even Rodney.

The School Constable had seen hundreds of guilty students and lowlife perps in his time, all of them fighting valiantly to conceal the stamp of infamy that haunted their blighted little souls. He'd broken them all down, made them all confess. But none had ever looked more deliciously vulnerable, more utterly and obviously guilt-ridden, than this. Lana's fright shone from her sweet hazel-toned eyes like a beacon every time she dared to look at him... or was unable to stop herself from looking at him. And the words "drug test" had rung her like a bell, the vibrations still shuddering though that magnificent, slender young frame even now.

Dick Rodney realized that his cock was painfully hard as he contemplated the possibilities. The problem, he reflected, was what to do about it. Every fibre of his being screamed at him that here is an opportunity not to be missed, but he had to play it careful, keep the other two from getting spooked. A rush of excitement had prompted him to speak out of turn and introduce the drug test angle early, and now Steele and Long were clumsily steering the interview back toward something halfway resembling its planned course, like veteran airline pilots who'd just watched the nose of their plane come within inches of a mountaintop. Steele had to know, just like Rodney, what he was seeing... but he liked the girl, he loved his wife, he was clearly regretting his ostensibly magnificent prank and fumbling for a graceful way to just get this over with. He wouldn't push this situation where it needed to go, not on his own. And that yellow-bellied tub of guts Long was sweating more than the bitch was, he looked like he might fold and give away the whole game any second.

We can't have that. Rodney's mind raced as he watched them half-heartedly quiz Lilly about her understanding of the reasons behind Common Core standards, watched her fumble and stutter and babble her way through her answers as her terrified eyes kept flickering back to his. He was putting together pieces, slotting a strategy into place. How to take control of the situation?

Scanning back through the last few minutes, he realized something. The "drug test" thing had obviously given away that she had some not-so-legal extracurricular activities going on... but she had been terrified before that came up. The way she'd frozen initially and looked like she might bolt had to be down to something more than the drugs, something deeper. He ran the conversation forward in his mind again... paused it at the point where she'd seemed to actually choke on getting out a phrase about "morals." He'd exploited the opening but hadn't really thought through how strange it was; the kids of her generation didn't see drugs as a moral issue, they were just afraid of the heat. So what... what...

... ah. What indeed.

Light bulb. He kept his expression carefully steady as triumphant understanding pumped through him, stiffening his prick even more. Temp teachers don't make much, and what's a beautiful girl to do when she's hard-up for cash... except just what they've always done? Well, well, Miss Lilly who looks like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. You've been naughty. Rodney had worked a couple years in Vice before his move to the School Liaison Unit. His mind raced through the cases he'd worked, rifled through the various escort and dating services he'd seen used as fronts, put together a guess about what might make her most terrified of possible discovery... and there was really only one possibility.

A rough scaffolding of guesswork, but it was educated guesswork, and intuition told him that he had enough to run a solid bluff. The thought came with decision hard on its heels. Abruptly, the Constable sat up ramrod straight and forward on his chair and slammed a palm down on the desk beside him.

The interview cut off as if he'd flipped a switch. All three of the others were looking at him, Steele in confusion, Long in trepidation... and Miss Lilly, of course, in outright doe-eyed terror. Rodney gave the Principal a level look and said: "I think it's time to end this charade, don't you?"

Steele looked blankly back at him, clearly trying to figure out what angle he was working. But Dick was a man he trusted, he'd be willing to play along for a while and figure out the shot as he went... and that's all the Constable needed. After a moment, he gave a silent, acquiescent nod.

Rodney snapped his attention over to Jim Long, who looked so pale and sweaty he might almost be ill. Catching the Vice Principal's gaze, he gestured at Steele and said: "You heard the Principal. Let's cut to the chase. Lock the door if you please, Jim."

Long hesitated, shot a pleading look at the Principal. But Steele just nodded, and picking up on Rodney's cue, he leaned forward and punched the intercom button on his phone. "Mrs. Salinas," he said quietly. "No calls, please. We're absolutely not to be disturbed until we complete Miss Lilly's review."

The Constable turned back to Miss Lilly as Jim Long got up to lock the office door. A flash of alarm shot through him as he saw her eyelids fluttering, her body going rigid as if she might be about to vomit, or faint, or both. Oh no, you don't. You're not cutting the fun short before it starts, bitch. Suddenly affecting solicitousness, Rodney got up from his chair and quickly grabbed the glass of ice-water she'd set down, raising it to her lips.

"Easy now, Miss, calm down," he said as he tilted the glass up, relief washing through him as her throat started to work, swallowing down one gulp, two, three. "There, that's better. That's better. Steadier now, yes?" As he set the glass back down, her eyes came back into focus and found his. She looked dazed... and far from reassured by what was looking back at her. As well she shouldn't be. But aloud he said: "You've got nothing to fear if you tell the truth, Miss Lilly. We're here to help, and I promise you'll get a fair shake from us. But we do need to clear the air here, now don't we?"

As he sat back down, her arms wrapped protectively around her ribcage. She opened her mouth, closed it, put her head down as she tried to escape the Constable's merciless basilisk glare.

Rodney let the steel creep back into his voice. "You've been acting queer since you walked into this room, Miss Lilly. Specifically since you walked into this room and saw me. You know that, don't you."

She wrapped her arms tighter, the picture of misery as she gave a single convulsive nod.

"So, why might that be? Any ideas?"

Wiping away the beginnings of tears, the young blonde beauty fought to rally her courage. Sitting up a little straighter, trying on a sickly facsimile of her sunny smile, she said: "Oh just... I think... it's maybe just kind of a misunderstanding, Mister... uhhh, Officer Rodney, you know? I just, I had a poppy-seed bagel for breakfast and when you said about the drug test... you know, I've heard about false positives and stuff, just... just kinda made me nervous..."

She trailed off as he looked back at her stonily. He let her sweat for a moment or two more before he said: "You know, that's what I might have thought." Like a cat toying with its prey, he waited to see the tiniest glint of hope come back into her eyes before he quashed it: "If I didn't already know better."

Lana blanched, her eyes going wide. "I... uhh, I don't know what you—"

"Did it occur to you to think why I might be here?" He let just a touch of the true ugliness of what he was feeling show in his voice now. "Do you really think they call in the School Constable for performance reviews? In the event of a drug test, don't you think Nurse Milne could just come here and get you herself? Why do you think I needed to be here?"

He felt Steele and Long's confused eyes on him now, wondering where he was going with this, but he kept his focus on the quivering bitch with laser intensity. As far as he was concerned, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing in this room and this moment but the little piggy and the Big Bad Wolf. And I'll huff, and I'll puff... he thought with a touch of glee as he got up from his chair, stepped over, leaned in near her and said, pitched for a terrible intimacy but just loud enough for the others to hear:

"We know."

Those two words produced a remarkable effect in her. On the one hand, the tension seemed to bleed out of her, the quivering of her taut body abating as if in profound relief. On the other hand, something behind her eyes seemed to break, or go suddenly absent, as if she might be sleepwalking or have stepped outside her own body. Her lips were parted, her breathing shallow as she looked at Rodney's brutal face close to hers, and spoke a single word:

"Oh."

* * *

A curious thing happened to Lana Lilly's mind when the words "We know" struck it, hauling her greatest fear into the light. Part of her stayed back in that office, breathing air thick with dread at the brutish expression of the Constable hovering over her, yet floating inside a curious sense of release... and part of her went swirling down, down, down into memory, into the dark heart of the event at the core of all the other things she'd been keeping at bay.

It had been two nights before. Three days after she'd listened to an automated voice tell her the number you are calling has been changed, three days after she'd discovered she was alone in the world. She'd been floating in shock ever since, plastering a smile on her face, going through the motions, waiting through long days in the classrooms until she could get home and put on the garish make-up and thong underwear and tight sequined mini-dresses of her alter ego, Lucy Loveless.

This time out the party had been at a bar called the Rancho Rivera. She'd been the "Party Partner" of a muscular, virile-looking Mexican man who called himself Sonny, with a crooked grin and smoldering eyes and the pecs of an Adonis. One look at him had reminded her of Marco, the guy at college she'd lost her virginity to, the guy who'd prompted her own father to call her a "whore" and a "slut" and a "disgrace to the family" and to disown her, never speaking to her again.

The loneliness, the shock, the tequilas they'd consumed shot by shot, the lines of cocaine they snorted in the bathroom... the resentment of her father's abandonment. She could see it all fitting together in her mind's eye like a mosaic of depravity, all the circumstances that had combined to drive her wild.

And wild she had gone. As the party had segued into the after-party and they found themselves back at Sonny's spacious loft condo shaking their asses to Mexican rap music, her dress had come off in record time, and she'd flirted almost manically with Sonny and his half-dozen friends, winding a perfect ass adorned by a tiny pink thong, shaking her plump titties at them from underneath her tiny pink half-bra, losing herself in their hollers and their crude, suggestive comments and in Sonny's dark, lascivious eyes. The beat had thrummed through her like it never had before, making her tight young pussy moist and her body tingle as she'd run her hands all over it, her troubles forgotten.