Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 03

That wasn't it either. Abbie's massive tits pressed into my chest as I kept looking...

I've confiscated your chapstick. You could wait, or try talking it out, maybe even apologize, but no. It's not about that. You make a move, throwing yourself on me, but that's not what why. It's because you're a horny teen slut and you've wanted to be fucked by your teacher for so long you can't stop yourself any more. It's the excuse you've been waiting for, and you take it. Your first time with a man, prostituting yourself for a cheap tube of lip balm...

Nope. Nope nope nope. What was I looking... Oh yeah. Right.

"Abbie... this is wrong. I can't stop you from doing what you want, but this isn't what I want. So do what you gotta do, but know that I don't consent. And I won't."

When my eyes opened, she was studying me from inches away, a wounded expression on her face. "Really? You really don't want me?"

"It's not about what I want," I answered. "It's what I'm willing to live with."

"Really? You... you don't even want to try it, just once, see how you like it?"

"No," I lied. I wanted to fuck her more than I'd wanted almost anything else in my life. But it wouldn't be right to-

"Then open wide, mothafucka!" Her eyes flared wildly.

As she tugged my chin down with her thumb and spritzed into my open mouth, I had to admit she'd been right. Serenex really did taste awful.

What happened next, I couldn't say 100%. I'd been black-out drunk a couple times in college, and it was about like that. The time was just... lost. I woke up in my own bed. Naked. It was still dark out. (Dark out again? No, my phone confirmed it was the same night, but now it was going on three in the morning.) After pulling on some clothes, I first confirmed that the Stern sisters' car was gone. It was.

There was no telling what, if anything they'd done with me. I wasn't sure if Abbie had made me take my clothes off, or if I'd done it myself. I did usually sleep that way, unless it was especially chilly out. The droplets in my shower and Old Spice scent on my body confirmed I'd showered at some point, which I also didn't remember, much less have any inkling as to why. If Abbiehad taken advantage of me, it would only be poetic justice. Things had finally spiraled so far out of control that I might have actually gotten to live out one of my fantasies, and I didn't even remember it. Other than a mild headache, there was no evidence the girls had ever come over tonight.

Was anything different about me? She'd said she had overheard our conversation, which meant she was in possession of the same knowledge we had in regards to the potency of Serenex ingestion. I racked my brain trying to think what sorts of things Abbie might have tried to do. There were the obvious temptations, but my bank account balance and the cash in my wallet were still there, along with my credit cards. (Not that a relatively new teacher with a mortgage and a penchant for blowing his savings on doomsday devices had much money, but to a high school student, it might seem a small fortune.)

So it hadn't been money. Then what? Sex? Certainly a possibility, but I wasn't sore and was still as passively horny as I'd been all week. There were no condoms in the trash, no signs a woman had tidied herself up after or the like. I ruled it unlikely, but possible. And even if she had fucked me, that wouldn't have taken five hours. As turned on as I'd been, it might not have taken five minutes. So then what else had transpired in the missing time?

With all that had been done to Abbie's brain yesterday, it was hard to guess what other motives were at the forefront of her mind. Not that whatever, if anything, she'd done would have had to be on impulse. She'd had hours with me out of it, no doubt wearing that some dopy, vacant stare she'd had under the same influence. Hours to think of what all she might like to do, to change about me. Oh god, and Taylor! Should it be comforting to think she'd almost certainly plugged our leak? Because it didn't feel comforting. Not that I was any less resolved to prevent the previous afternoon's events from going public, but that had been true of me before, nothing Abbie would have needed to adjust my thinking on. With that canister of Serenex, she could-

Oh,no. The canister!

I raced through the house, eyes darting frantically every which way for the little white container. If she still had that, people could be in serious danger! Those girls had been borderline sociopaths before they'd learned how to brainwash people, and there had been enough in there for a hundred more doses if the labeling was to be believed. Please let it be here. Please let her have been that careless, that stupid. But it was nowhere. Not in the living room where she'd used it on me, not dumped in the garage on their way out, not on the counters, not under the bathroom sink, not between the couch cushions. I even checked the refrigerator at one point, like they might have pranked me for when I woke up and went to pour a bowl of cereal.

But it was gone.

I sunk to my knees at the realization. I'd created a monster - an evenworse monster than she'd already been - and armed it with power mankind had never been meant to possess. In my hands, sure, it was little more than a teaching tool, but in hers? Damn it all to hell! I shouldn't have been such a pussy. Instead of taking pity on my whiny bitch student, I should have just taken final and definitive charge of this whole fucking mess before I ever let them leave my classroom. My fist pounded down so hard I nearly broke the glass. I slumped over the coffee table, resting my head on my briefcase, imagining all the-

Hmm. My briefcase?

Oh, why not.

I opened the briefcase. There, tucked off to the side, right where I'd been keeping it all week, was the Serenex. I heaved a sigh of relief, but the sensation didn't last long.

Beside the canister was a piece of paper covered in my handwriting. It was written on the back of a quiz from my third period. Guess Faruk wasn't getting that back. It was two columns of small print that grew increasingly sloppy as the repetitions drew nearer to a hundred. The text was simplicity itself, five little words in a declarative sentence. Subject linking verb adverb article predicate nominative. Raw simplicity.

I am not a pussy.

I clutched it in my hands, staring. A deep red lipstick print was at the top of the page. Abbie's color. The longer I looked, the stranger it seemed. Why would they have me write that? It was the sort of thing you'd have a pussy write, and I am not a pussy. I amso not a pussy. Not at all. My fist clenched around the paper, crumpling it into a little ball. Pussy?Me?! I am NOT a pussy!

"Oh, fuck..."

That comment was sparked by two realizations, the first being fairly obvious. She'd brainwashed me, all right. Decided I was a pussy and had me scribble my way to manhood. Which was ridiculous, because I amnot a pussy! Which was in turn confusing, because I was, or had been, even if now, I am not a... Crap. Those words.I am not a pussy. Once I'd thought them, they wouldn't go away. It was the world's catchiest jingle advertising my own masculinity and refusing to stop. Knowing what I knew about the Serenex, I was aware that intellectually the thought was new, and was false - except not false, not being a pussy was the truest thing about me - and there was no arguing with it. What could be more of a pussy move than deliberately, knowingly, trying to go back to being a pussy? And I am not...

Ugh.

The second realization, and perhaps more disturbing, came only as I tossed the ball of paper aside and saw the one beneath it. Eyes wide, I flipped past it to the next, and the next...

We'd been busy.