Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 21

Little by little, I could see my words sinking in. Good. So she had some imagination after all. "You're saying you wouldn't go all Liam Neeson and use your particular skills to bail my ass out if I got tooken?"

"I'm sorry, 'tooken?'" She merely nodded. "If you keep abusing my language like that, I'm going to root for the tookers."

Abbie sighed. "OK fine. You can have the rest back. Wasn't enough to do anything too cool with anyway. I'll drop it off." She caught my skeptical expression. "I will! What, you think I'm gonna go on a rampage in the next twenty minutes of the school day? Short-ass rampage. Almost nothing left anyway."

"And again, did you use it on anyone other than Justin and Tabitha? We do have our own designated security chief in all this. It would be smart to keep her informed so she can be looking out for us." I omitted the fact that I hadn't yet told her about the addition of Tabitha (and to the limited degree of his involvement, Justin) myself. It was on my to do list. Now.

"Nah. I was gonna use it on that fucking hoebag Katie Medina, but I couldn't pry her away from her boyfriend at the party. So much for an early birthday present."

I tried not to imagine Katie Medina joining the lineup. I had little doubt her name would have come up if someone forced a confession of fantasies out of me. Even without Serenex, she was already well on her way to fantasy slutdom. It was almost cliché - the quintessential vapid, gorgeous, busty blonde cheerleader. The blonde was dyed, and the vapidness was a learned response after years of reinforcing that if she couldn't do something people would line up to do it for her. It was my least original student-centered fantasy, no doubt, but it was impossible to to look at that body, that blank, doe-eyed stare, all of it wrapped in a tight sweater and short skirt and waving its pom-poms, and not think about fucking her.

But not now.

"My birthday is in February."

"Way to be literal, dude. Early Memorial Day present then, what the fuck ever. Bitch was gonna support my lil' trooper."

The troops only wished they had a pinup like Katie Medina. I reminded myself that it was agood thing that Abbie had failed to ensnare her. "So you'll return the canister then?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

A pallet of bricks suddenly lifted off my shoulders. Mostly, at least. I'd relax when it was securely in my hands. "Good. Thank you, Abbie. I was... well, to be honest, I'd started to worry that you and I were drifting apart."

"So then come over here and let's drift together." Her thighs slowly spread, putting ever more purple before my eyes. "You haven't fucked me in, like, five days now. Your widdle Abbiekins wants dicky."

Honestly, I'd meant to save some for Tabitha or Taylor after school, but if it would help fix the rift between us, I supposed I could donate some dick to this poor under-dicked teen. "All right, but we have to be quick."

She clapped her hands giddily, jerking her panties to the side and sliding her hips into place as I took a moment to lock the door, in case Isa came back early. My slacks dropped to my ankles as I stepped up to the desk. I wasn't hard enough yet to just thrust straight into her, so I teased what I had along her moistening labia.

Her eyes squeezed shut in exhilaration, and she inched forward to press me inside her too-long-vacant teenage pussy. "Come on, just fuck me already, Mr. Canon. Fuck your little fantasy slut. God, how did I get so lucky to land a man like you. I was so jealous of Taylor last night. Can I sleep over sometime? I want to suck your fucking dick all night long. While you eat dinner, while you watch TV, while you text your other fuck toys, while you plan your little lessons, while you shower, until you fall asleep. Your dick in my hot little mouth until-"

All right, now I was hard enough. I pulled her hips down to meet me, the dress slipping up to pool around her waist on the desktop. "Ya miss me?"

"I missed these," I answered, taking hold of her tits, which were doing an incredible job of filling out that dress. There was no simple way of getting them out of that thing, so for now, I settled for pawing at them through the material. Her sister hadn't worn a bra today. No. Stay in the moment. And in this moment, I was going to fuck the hell out of Abbie St-

The door to the office suddenly jiggled behind me as someone tried to enter. It was followed a heart-stopping moment later by a pair of staccato knocks, accompanied by a voice.

"Mr. Canon? Are you in there?"

Principal Horen's voice.

"Keep going," whispered Abbie.

"Um, yeah, do you, um, do you need me?" My voice broke. Good grief, my voice broke!

She tried the knob again. Oh thank god I'd locked the thing! I nearly hadn't! Shit! "Can you let me in? I need to talk to you about something."

My cock was out of Abbie's pussy and back in my underwear in a flash, recinching my belt as quickly as I could. "Hide!" I mouthed to Abbie. "Right, sorry - forgot I, ah, did that."

Abbie rolled backwards across the desk and crouched in the hollow beneath it. Hands trembling, I undid the lock and opened the door. Did it smell like pussy in here? We hadn't been at it long enough for that. Had we? Would Principal Horen even recognize that smell?

The middle-aged woman on the other side of the door wore her usual pinched-off expression. She glanced into the office quizzically. "Is Louisa not with you?"

"Um, no, she had to step out. Don't know why she locked it. Wait, were you looking for her, or for me?"

"You, though I was hoping for both. No matter."

I was breathing too fast. I tried to go slower, but that only made me feel more out of breath.Relax! I ordered myself.She doesn't know anything. This is just some mundane-

"What can you tell me about your relationship with Abigail Stern?"

To my credit, I didn't faint on the spot.

"Excuse me?"

Her eyes narrowed. "We should talk in my office. I'll have Louisa paged."

"Um, now?"

"Yes. This has already waited too long."

Ohfuck.

I followed behind her woodenly, at least relieved that Abbie would be able to flee. I hadn't been caught redhanded or in any provable fashion, at least. But what did Horen know?How did she know? Why Abbie and Isa but not the others - or did she know about them, too? I will not let anyone learn about my relationship with the Stern sisters. Except I already had! Fuck! The best I could do now was protect my secret about Taylor.

We marched down the hall to her office. Was everyone staring at us? No, that was my guilty conscience. I think. Were they? She shut the door behind her, and I fought my instinct to panic. This was the fruition of that moment I had dreaded when I'd first received Megan's blackmail message, all that dread suddenly poured out like a truckload of concrete. At her gesture, I sat down in the hard wooden chair opposite her desk, and she took a seat behind it.

"So what's up?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. Probably failing.

"Up front, Mr. Canon, is there anything you'd like to tell me before we go further?"

So much for my dim hope that there could be some benign explanation for her previous question about Abbie. This was the start of an interrogation.

Like so many occupants of this chair before me, I feigned ignorance. "I'm not sure what we're doing here, so I'm not sure what you're looking to hear. You said something about Abbie Stern?"

"I did. You know her?"

"Vaguely," I replied vaguely. "I've had her older sister the past couple years, but I haven't been graced with Abbie's presence." I made sure the sarcasm came through. Maybe she had nothing but suspicion, some anonymous report. (From who, though?!) Maybe I could bullshit my way out of this.

"What about outside of class?"

Most students thought teachers disappeared into the ether with the tolling of the last bell, and I channeled that belief into my response. "Outside of class?" A place I'd never been, never heard of, my face said. "I think I've seen her in Saturday class here and there. Usually kind of a pain in the tush about it, too, but that's what you pay me the big bucks for, right?" I chuckled.

She did not.

"And nothing beyond that?"

"How else would I know her? From what I hear, she's not exactly Spell Bowl team material." (I coached Spell Bowl in the spring. Too nerdy for the Sterns, too intellectual for Cassie, too low-brow for Tabitha. It was a fantasy-free zone.)

Usually Mrs. Horen let her glasses hang from a cord around her neck. Presently, she raised them to her face. I recognized that maneuver. I'd seen it before in conferences with difficult parents, where she was done listening to them bloviate and was about to lay down the law. I have to say, it was doing work.

Without a word, the principal flipped open her laptop and tapped a few keys. She then pivoted it so I could see. It was a video. A large, dark room somewhere. The quality was crap, way too low-def for fullscreen. Then she hit the spacebar and it began to play.

I recognized it almost immediately.

Gooses, the bar I met my friends at in White Oaks. Oh god, what was this? The screen zoomed in towards the bar, where after a moment, I recognized myself from behind, perched upon a stool. Roddy was beside me, the two of us talking inaudibly. "Aw, he looks so sad," someone said over the din. Jacqui?

The realization of what I was about to see dawned on me but slowly, but only because I didn't want to believe this was happening.

After some brief jibes at my expense by my friends, I watched as Roddy patted me on the shoulder and returned to the table, drink in hand.

"Dude, you're recording?" Roddy accused the camera operator. I wasn't sure who it was. "Come on, bad enough he's gonna be humiliated, but you're gonna immortalize it?"

It was Jay who replied, confirming the cameraman's identity. "Remember we were talking about his pouty face?" He made a mopy sound, and indeed I remembered both the conversation from a previous gathering, as well as his use of that sound to mock me then. "Here it comes."

"Come on, Jailbait, give our guy a chance." Alice, at least, was rooting for me. But by then, my aggressive tactic was working, and rather than waiting for the long shot of my walk of shame, he zoomed in to catch me leading Abbie away from that older guy she'd been using to make me jealous and back to my stool. My friends' reactions varied between shock and elation as Abbie and I briefly talked. Jay zoomed in on us. The quality was really poor, especially zoomed in all the way across the bar like that, but there it was. There on my principal's monitor, I watched with nauseating horror as the two of kissed.

(Hey, so I had kissed girls other than Taylor after all. I'd have to tell Cassie when I got out of prison.)

In the middle of the kiss, the bell rang signaling the end of the school day. As an English teacher, I appreciated the symbolism in its selection of timing.

My friends, Roddy in particular, marveled at what I had pulled off as Abbie and I walked out of the bar. Jay finally turned the camera around, laughing delightedly. "My fucking hero, man! Fire dat cannon, boy!" he exclaimed a bit too on the nose.

The recording ended.

"Wait, you think that woman was Abbie Stern?" I asked. I wanted to cringe at my own audacity. The quality had been poor, but I was pretty sure anyone who knew the girl well would agree it was her. They might even recognize her unprompted. Not many women with that body, those good looks.

"Are you telling me it wasn't?"

"Of course it wasn't! Where did you even get this video, by the way?"

With that, she tapped the right arrow, and the screen switched over to instagram. No, a screenshot of instagram. It was Jay's page, the screen frozen on the start of the video at the center. I squinted, trying to make out words from over here. It was mostly comments from my friends expressing their disbelief and a little hero worship - and Jacqui once more referring to Abbie as jailbait - but I did see that they had tagged me in it. Then I saw a comment from someone that read, "I think that's one of our students..."

I froze. Amy Cook-Burfield. My department head.

According to the screenshot, her comment was less than an hour old, from which I quickly surmised the chain of events. It wasn't hard to imagine. Amy saw one of her work buddies was tagged in a video, the comments suggestive and enticing. She clicked it, did a double take when she saw Abbie, probably watched it a few times to try to be sure. Her comment was probably a knee jerk response, but then she'd remembered herself and contacted Principal Horen.

Now here I was.

How long had this been out there? How had I not known?! When I'd shut off social media notifications on my phone, I'd figured it would be a time-saver, not cost me my only opportunity to save my career! Thankfully I didn't let students add me on instagram - one thing to socially network, another to do so in a medium that all too often shared images inappropriate for teachers' eyes. At least it meant the whole student body hadn't seen this by now. Had Jay even taken the video down after seeing Amy's comment? The dumbass certainly hadn't contacted me - he must have thought Amy was teasing me for the girl's apparent (and actual) age. Not jailbait in the traditional sense, but add to her youth the complication of teacher and student, and the term once again applied.

Nothing left to do but double down. The penalties for lying my ass off were insignificant compared to the penalties for telling the truth.

"That woman was not Abbie Stern. I guess I could see from this video how it sort of looks like her - not that I know what she looks like! - I mean I do (sort of) but not very well - but it wasn't her. It was just some random woman I met in a bar."

Principal Horen listened to my raving, then nodded and tapped the arrow again. Another screenshot, this one from facebook. Abbie's page. It was a picture of her at last year's junior prom, wearing that same incredible dress.

"Anything else you'd like to say for yourself?"

"So the dress shop isn't allowed to sell multiple similar dresses?"

"To multiple similar women, you mean." She may as well have used air quotes with her "similar."

"Look, all I can say is, that woman wasn't Abbie Stern. You can call her down here and ask her - she'll laugh in your face, Mrs. Horen. Why would a girl like her even want a guy like me?"

In hindsight, the "I'm not cool enough to fuck a babe like her" defense might not have been my best tactic.

"Mr. Canon, with heavy heart, I must inform you that you're being suspended without pay while we conduct an investigation. The police will be notified and called upon to assist. Should the investigation find you innocent of wrong-doing, you will be reinstated and resume regular duties. If it concludes that you engaged in sexual conduct with a GHS student..." She paused, pivoting the monitor back to her, steepling her fingers such that it almost felt as if she were the villain and not I, "you will be terminated, and charges will be filed against you."

My heart ran cold. Was it even beating? This couldn't be happening. I deserved this, though, no denying it. I'd simply spent so long in this building where merit and outcomes were so utterly divorced from one another that I'd let myself believe this could never happen.

"Will it be Officer Barbour? Conducting the investigation, I mean."

"Your friend, Louisa Barbour, whom you've been eating lunch with for several weeks now? No. This is above her pay grade. But she and I will be escorting you to your classroom to claim any personal effects just as soon as she gets here. The building should be mostly empty of students, but please don't attempt to interact with any on your way out of the building. Keep your dignity about you, Canon. While you can."

That was all there was to it. Neither of us had anything left to say. What would happen now? Should I flee the state? The country? Should I try to bring any of the girls with me? Could I dose Principal Horsen? And Amy Cook-Burfield? And everyone they'd told?

I'd need a vat of Serenex to cover this up. An ocean.

No, it was over.

Or, well, almost over. Isa arrived a few minutes of awkward silence later. Mrs. Horsen briefly explained the situation to her aside, but Isa kept in character as the school resource officer, love slave persona temporarily suppressed. Her job was to protect the secret, but the secret was out now. I shuffled down to my classroom, head hung low, the two women following a respectful distance behind. They didn't want to look like they were escorting me. This would be dramatic enough without creating a scene now.

I made my way down to my room and keyed my way in. With a sigh, I reflected that I'd have to turn the key over, too. I opened the door and-

"Hi, Mr. Canon! I came for those extra lessons you mentioned!" crowed Tabitha. She was standing in the corner behind my desk so she'd be visible only to me and not to anyone out in the hall. The girl sounded like she was smiling, but I couldn't tell. I couldn't tell because she had her back to me, and was in the process of flipping up her little gray dress to reveal the thong wedged up her ass crack.

"Get outta here with that shit. Panties are for prisses," shared Taylor, standing next to her in the corner lowering her shorts around her thighs to reveal her bare pussy.

And there was Cassie, peering nervously between them. "Am I supposed to take my pants off or something? I mean, I guess I could..."

The door swung open behind me. The girls tried to conceal themselves in a flash, but when they saw it was Isa, Taylored rolled her eyes and relaxed, shorts slipping down again. Not to be outdone, Tabitha hiked her dress up, ass back on display. Cassie lowered her leggings, revealing her own sculpted bottom.

"I wondered if we could talk real quick about what happened after you butt-fucked me yesterday...?" Cassie asked.

Taylor was speaking at the same time. "Fuck, Barbie, we thought you were somebody else coming in here to..."

But the door, which had never fully closed, swung open again, and in walked our principal. Everyone present froze - in confusion, in terror, in humiliation, in stupefaction, in contemplation of tasing our way out of this. In defeat. After a moment, Tabitha turned back to see why Taylor had trailed off, squeaking in alarm and dropping her dress. Taylor's shorts were already back up, but far, far too late.

"Mr. Canon? You're fired. Get a lawyer."