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Extorting the English Teacher

By: tangentjoker



All of the characters in this work of fiction are age 18 or older. 

The plot of this story was given to me by zurustru. I have never tried to flesh out someone else's plot in this manner, so please be patient with the tale. This story contains reluctance, forced sexual activity and humiliation.

Thanks, as always, to my Beta Reader, FangsAnarchy, for remaining vigilant against my proclivities towards rushing the good parts.

Votes and comments are welcome. Please keep it polite. Thank you.

*****

The stories were legendary. There were descriptions from trusted sources. Students who used to go to Overbrook High School, but were now in college, had seen Mrs. Flick jogging near Clementon Water Park during the summer. Due to the heat, she wore very little. Despite being forty she was, according to the tales, slim with an amazing ass and enormous naturally firm boobs. All the teenage boys of the Pine Hill area prayed for the day they might catch a glimpse of Mrs. Flick's angelic body. They knew it would never happen where she worked. Mrs. Flick dressed so conservatively, she made nuns look like strippers.

Samantha Flick was an English Teacher at Overbrook High School. She had a firm reputation as a good teacher. She cared about her students. She never wore makeup to school, but anyone could tell she was beautiful. She rarely bared any skin. Her blouses were always buttoned all the way and topped with a blazer. Her slacks were always full length. Her shoes were always practical for a woman who spent the majority of the day on her feet. Her ebony hair was always in a tight bun and her thick rimmed glasses were always perfectly in place. If the rumors of how hot she looked when jogging hadn't wafted through the halls of the school, very few people ever would have thought of her sexually. She was certainly pretty, but she was far too covered up for most people to invest their imaginations.

Once the word goddess was used, however, the boys started paying attention. All the seniors at Overbrook knew where Mrs. Flick lived. Her son, Tom, was their classmate. Most of the seniors liked Tom. He was a regular guy and decent looking. Tom's friends often spoke about how sexy his mom was. They knew how angry he got to hear this, but they would say it all the time anyway. Tom did not want to think about his mom like that. She was Mom. She never acted sexy, Tom thought. She worked all day. She cooked. She occasionally helped Tom with his homework and she read a ton of books. Tom honestly could not understand what his classmates saw in her.

Tom was not in his mother's English class but his friend, Tucker, was. Tucker could never shut up about how sexy he thought she was. He was always talking about it to Tom and their friend, Jeff. Jeff was in the same English class as Tom.

"Man," Tucker would say, "she was writing on the board today and she had this little wiggle going on. I got so fucking hard watching her. It was unreal!"

"Dude!" Tom would shout. "For the last time, I don't want to hear about you getting a boner looking at my mother. It's sick. My mom is a dowdy teacher. Drool over the French teacher like everyone else, for fuck's sake!"

"Oh, come on, bro!" Tucker would retort. "Your mom is way hotter than Ms. Price. Ms. Price just dresses better."

Jeff usually didn't get involved in the arguments but he did spend quite a bit of time checking Mrs. Flick out. He was a frequent dinner guest since Mr. Flick usually ate before getting home.

Mr. Flick left early every day for his commute to New York City. He was a wealthy day trader on Wall Street. He loved his wife and son but felt determined to work hard and make even more money. He was never quite satisfied with his bank account.

Tom hated to hear his friends refer to his mother as a MILF. It was something that always got him angry. They knew it and yet Jeff and Tucker seemed to go out of their way on a daily basis to call her that. His classmates at school were even worse. They said MILF all the time when they referred to her. They would often wonder aloud if she was a nasty slut.

Male students from her English class loved to tell the story of the first day of class. She wrote her name, Mrs. Flick, in all capital letters on the board. The l and the i were written very closely together and to several students in the back it looked, instead, like a u. Those students, from that day on, began secretly calling her Mrs. Fuck. Soon, almost all of the male seniors were talking about wanting to fuck Mrs. Fuck.

Tom did his best to ignore all the scandalous things being said about his mother. It wasn't easy. His hormone-crazed colleagues seemed to get worse every day. Tom felt stress at school having to bear the remarks of classmates who didn't realize he could hear them. He asked his friends for ways to get his mind off the things guys said about his mom.

Tom, Tucker and Jeff started going out skateboarding at night. They would attempt jumps, rail grinds and other tricks. It worked at first, but Tom needed a bigger diversion.

One night in March, the boys broke into the school. They found an unlocked window on the ground floor and slid in. It was harmless fun. They went into classrooms and drew dirty pictures on the boards. They broke the lock on the trophy case outside the main office and ran around with the school's pride and joy: a huge football trophy for being division champions. Tucker was riding the trophy as though it were a horse when it slipped out of his hands and smashed on the floor. The boys panicked. They ran out one of the side doors, not realizing they would set off the fire alarm.

They jumped into Tucker's car and zoomed away from the high school. They were so shaken up, it wasn't until much later - when he was home and getting ready for bed - that Tom realized he was no longer wearing his ball cap. He shrugged his shoulders and concluded he had already taken it off without realizing.

The next morning, Saturday, Samantha got a call from the school. The three intruders were caught on the school's closed circuit television system and the Vice Principal thought that one of the culprits bore a striking resemblance to Tom. Abe, the Vice Principal, asked Samantha to come in to look at the footage.

What she saw appalled her. It was clear enough to her that Tom was one of the three individuals caught on the CCTV. She could tell by his posture and the way he moved. She couldn't tell who the other two were. They were all wearing ball caps and never looked up at any of the cameras.

Abe showed her something the perpetrators left behind. It was a ball cap. It was the same school logo ball cap that half the boys wore but Samantha was sure in her heart that this ball cap belonged to Tom. Samantha admitted that the boy on the video screen resembled Tom and she promised to ask him.

"It's too late for that," said Abe.

"What do you mean?" Samantha asked.

"I've already called the police," he replied.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, concerned for her son.

"Sam, it's school policy. We have a break in and we call the police. That's how it works. I just thought you should see this. I didn't want you to get caught blindsided by this."

Samantha thanked Abe and, shortly thereafter, returned home. She called for Tom who had slept in.

"Tom?!?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Where's your school baseball cap?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. I misplaced it before I went to bed last night. Why?"

"Did you possibly misplace it outside the school office last night after destroying the division championship trophy?"

Tom's eyes were wide open in terror. Had his mother suddenly become psychic? He wanted to tell her it was an accident. He wanted to say he didn't even do it. It was Tucker! He wanted to say a lot of things but Tucker and Jeff had sworn him to secrecy.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Abe Klein called me into school this morning. The fire alarms were set off last night. They checked the security cameras and found a lot of footage of three boys running around the halls and smashing into the trophy case. Abe also found a baseball cap at the scene. Do you have anything you want to say to me, young man?"

"Not really." He looked into his mother's angry eyes. "Ok, ok. It was me..."

"'It was I,'" his mother corrected. Inwardly, she growled at herself. Her son had committed a crime and she was worried about his grammar. It was ludicrous.

"Right. It was I. I've been really stressed out at school lately. I really hate some of the things the guys have been saying and I needed a release."

"Let me get this straight," Samantha said. "Some boys at school tease you so you break into the school, draw naked women on the boards, and destroy a trophy so you can feel better? Did it work? Do you feel better now?"

Bill Flick had heard the arguing and went to Tom's room to check. He heard Samantha describe the things Tom did. Before he could make his presence known, Tom answered his mother.

"They weren't teasing me," he said. "They were talking about how hot you are. They were saying a lot of filthy things about you and I just can't take it anymore."

Bill said, "So that gave you the right to destroy school property?"

"Dad!" Tom cried out in surprise. "No, sir. I never meant to break anything. It was an accident."

Samantha asked, "Who were the two other boys?"

Tom shook his head.

"What's this?" Samantha asked in a threateningly angry tone.

Tom folded his arms and said, "I'm not a snitch. I gave my word I wouldn't tell anyone."

"It's so nice to know there's honor among thieves," Samantha said sarcastically.

"I'm not a thief," Tom said with a hint of anger in his voice.

"You destroyed school property," Samantha retorted. "You took away their trophy."

There was a knock on the door. Bill went to answer it and was surprised to see a police detective on his doorstep. 

The detective identified himself and explained why he was there. He spoke to Tom, with his parents present, for a little over an hour. The detective wrote down a lot of notes in his little book. He thanked the parents for their time and left.

The police investigation went on for two weeks. The police could not prove Tom had been there. All they had was a cap and some grainy footage. There was nothing ironclad. The District Attorney decided not to pursue it. The case was dropped.

Tom felt wonderful. Only his parents and his friends knew he'd been there that night. For what seemed like the first time in his life, Tom got away with something. He would be happy when this would be nothing but a vague memory.

In April, Samantha got a text message on her iPhone from a number she didn't know. 

"ik what ur son did"

Samantha's eyes opened in fear and she texted back, "Who is this?"

The reply was, "nvm. do what i tell u or ill tell"

"What do you want?" Samantha texted in return.

"i want u 2 b sexy 4 skool. like this." There were four pictures sent with the text. The women in the pictures showed a lot of cleavage. They wore their hair down or in a ponytail. They wore short skirts that revealed thongs underneath. The women in the pictures wore stockings paired with 5 inch stiletto heels. The two who wore glasses had them on the tips of their noses. They all wore heavy makeup.

"I don't own any sexy clothes," she typed into her phone.

"ubest go shopin bitch"

"That's all you want? For me to dress sexy at school?"

"look at the hair 2 dumb bitch. nd glasses. u gotta do what i say too in ur class 2 or ill tell. dont tell any1 or ill tell."

She replied, "I don't think I could do that."

"lol ill tell the cops then."

Samantha was crying. She loved Tom. She couldn't let his life be destroyed when she had the power to stop it. This stranger was asking her to do some embarrassing things, but she knew that Tom was worth it. Samantha looked at the horrible spelling in the texts. This was obviously a student. Was it someone in her class? Was that why she had to do things in class as well? None of her students had spelling that was quite this execrable. Was this person intentionally spelling things badly to cover up their identity? She couldn't agree to this. She didn't really know what she'd be agreeing to.

"How long would I have to do all these things?"

"4now do what i say till i say stop"

"When will that be?"

"end of skool year"

Two and a half months, Samantha quickly realized. This bastard wanted her to look and act like a tramp at work for ten weeks. Ten weeks. It wasn't that long but it was also an eternity. Her reputation would be destroyed. Who was more important, she had to decide. Tom or herself? Tom, of course. Samantha really had no idea who this could be. Who had her cell phone number? One of the other teachers? One of the administrators? One of the students she tutored? There were enough people who had legitimate reasons for having her number to make guessing impossible.

"What, exactly, do you know about my son?"

"ik were his hat is"

That decided it. This person knew what Tom had done. He knew about the hat. Samantha thought about going to the police but she really didn't have anything to tell them. What would she say? An anonymous person was blackmailing her to dress in sexy clothing at work for ten weeks? That would be ridiculous. She couldn't believe she was agreeing to this, but she couldn't think of a way out.

"When do I have to start?"

"2morow"

"Fine. I'll do it."

"lol. good. ubetter look sexy 2"

Samantha drove to Delsea. She went to the mall and bought a ton of slutty clothing. The sales girl at one shop saw all the things Samantha was picking out and suggested getting a top that was one size too small. Samantha looked at the girl strangely. The sales girl explained that it took dressing slutty to the next level.

The next morning was chilly enough to justify wearing an overcoat on top of the outfit she was dressed in. Samantha wasn't ready to wear this sort of clothing and drive Tom in to school. Under her coat she had a low cut red pullover blouse that was one size too small for her. She also wore a black short skirt that ended about mid thigh, a red bra, a red thong, black stockings and black stilettos with 5 inch heels. Tom didn't seem to notice that she was suddenly taller than he.

Samantha went through her morning routine and did not shed her coat until she was safely in her homeroom. She sat at the desk and sorted through some paperwork. Some of the students noticed the ponytail but no one commented on it. It looked nicer than the usual bun. Her outfit was fairly well covered by the desk and the stack of papers she was reading. The only major difference the students could detect is that she was wearing makeup. 

Mrs. Flick had lined her eyes and had lips as red as her top. 

As absurd as she felt in these clothes, she was glad no one was saying anything about her metamorphosis. The bell declaring the start of homeroom rang and Samantha began to relax.

Her cell phone vibrated on the desk. She had forgotten she left it there. She glanced at the screen to see she'd gotten a text.

"stand up 2 call attendance"

A cold chill ran up Samantha's spine. Her blackmailer could see her. She glanced at the door to see if anyone was looking in from the hall. She saw no one. She looked for phones on the students' desks. She couldn't see any from where she was seated. She was given an order. This was the moment of truth. Would she actually go through with this? She sat there for a very long minute and shook her head in disbelief. She stood up and lifted the attendance list. She called the first name and heard, "Here," in reply. Then, apparently, students looked up and saw her because she heard an onslaught of wolf whistles and cat calls.

The students could not believe how hot Mrs. Flick looked. She had legs! They were toned and firm. She had cleavage! She looked amazing. Many kids wondered what the occasion was. She certainly had everyone's attention as she called the roll. 

She got through the roll call and returned to her seat. It wasn't too terrifying. That hadn't been as embarrassing as she thought it would be. Samantha let out a small sigh of relief just before her phone vibrated.

"sit on the front of ur desk and spread ur legs"

Her shoulders sagged a little as she read the text. Her eyes searched for someone in the class with a phone and found no one. She pushed her chair slowly away from the desk and stood up. There were eyes on her this time. She walked around the desk and sat on the edge. Many pairs of eyes followed her movements. Samantha cleared her throat because she was having trouble breathing. Her legs parted and she felt the short skirt ride up her thighs. She paused. This felt too obvious to her. She slowed her movements down to make it look like a happy accident and not a grown woman exposing her barely covered crotch to a room full of teenagers. Her phone vibrated. She tried to discreetly read the new text.

"knock ur pen off ur desk and pick it up slowly"

Samantha didn't even think about it. She bumped the pen with the back of her hand as it left her phone. The pen clanked to the floor. She walked over to the pen and bent over. She didn't realize there was anything naughty about this request until she heard the gasp from one of the students. She felt the coolness on her bottom and understood what she'd done. She was wearing a very short skirt and a thong. She had just flashed her ass to her homeroom class. She stood up straight and went towards the safety of her desk. She kept an eye on her phone. She waited for it to betray her again with a new embarrassing order. She had just pulled out her chair when she heard the bell which ended homeroom. Seconds later, there was a text on her phone.

"lol. good job. i thought ud face the other way. ill c more of u soon" She felt relieved it was over for now but she understood the last text clearly. This was just the beginning.

Her first period class was Sophomore English. She enjoyed the class more than she normally would because her iPhone remained silent for the duration of the class. The students all paid attention to her lecture and there was only a small disruptive element. Samantha never bent over or turned her back to the class and felt it went as well as it could. She had just gotten to the point where she convinced herself she could do this when something she didn't anticipate happened.

Tom passed a woman in the hall who bore a striking resemblance to his mother. His smiling face had contorted into a look of sheer horror after a better look at her. Tom was shocked when he recognized his mother's face on the body of this sexy woman in a short skirt and a low cut top. He tried blinking, hoping the mirage would go away. It did not. His mother was... sexy. He would never hear the end of it. Things were bad enough when she was pretty.

Samantha settled in for her English Literature class. These were seniors. She had hoped that, since the sophomores were fairly respectful, she would have an easy time with her mature students. She was behind the desk before the students arrived. As before, the ponytail was noticed but not commented on by the students. The bell rang to begin the class and, seconds later, her phone vibrated. She moved as nonchalantly as possible to check the text.

"sit on ur desk. keep the phone on ur lap."

Samantha welcomed the class and walked to the front of her desk. She sat down and crossed her legs at the ankles. She could hear some murmuring in the class, but there were no overtly sexual remarks made. She felt the vibration on her thighs and glanced at the new text.

"arch ur back"

It seemed like a weird request but Samantha thought it was harmless. She still had not been able to find anyone in the class using a cell phone. Whoever this was, if it was someone in this classroom, they were very good at being sneaky. She put her left hand behind her for support and arched her back as she'd been ordered. She waited for the gasp like she received in her homeroom class. No one seemed overly concerned with this pose. The class had an open discussion on the works of William Blake. There was a new text.


Extorting the English Teacher



"turn ur tits a little 2 the left"

Samantha kept her legs where they were but aimed her chest a little left. Another text arrived.

"more"

She adjusted herself and felt the vibration again.

"right there. slowly spread ur legs"

Samantha was explaining that Blake was an artist as well as a poet as her knees moved further away from each other. Her head hung lower than it normally would have. This was a heavy weight to bear. Samantha had never been so ashamed of herself before but tried to carry on normally. She had her eyes directed at the students desks. She was looking for any kind of movement that wasn't writing in a notebook.

"Sean Cama!" she called out suddenly. "Would you please stop writing on your desk? Thank you.";.

The student looked up with a classic deer caught in headlights expression. He put his pen down and paid attention to the class. Actually, he was checking out Mrs. Flick's body. However, he certainly looked as though he paid attention to what was being said.

Another text came in "write what u just said about blake on the board and stick out ur ass while u do"

Samantha was shocked at this one. She already knew that if she stuck out her butt too far she would wind up mooning her class. She certainly couldn't do that. She still had no idea who was sending these texts. She carefully got up and walked to the board. Samantha took in a deep breath. She was cautious as to how far she stuck her butt out as she wrote on the board. She felt some cool air on her upper thighs, but not on her ass. She decided for herself that was enough and wrote about William Blake on the board. She'd left her phone on the desk and she wondered if any further instructions would come through. When she finished writing, she walked back to the desk. She sat on the desk and put the phone discreetly back in her lap. Less than a minute later, with Samantha looking intently at her students, she got another text.

"move ur ass when u walk"

She nodded to signify her understanding. She internally chastised herself for that. She couldn't even prove her blackmailer was in this classroom. Why give him a visual cue? She was about to ask the class some questions about Blake when the bell rang. 

The class filed out quickly and Samantha looked at her phone. She called the number that had been texting her. She heard a ringtone. It was Metallica's Enter Sandman. It was out in the hall. She ran to check. The hallway was crammed with teenagers. There was no way to tell what everyone was doing. The ringtone stopped and a raspy voice came on the phone.

"Nice try. Don't call this number again or the next time you see your son, you'll be visiting him in prison. You've been doing good, so I'll let it slide this time. Keep up the good work. I'll see more of you later."

Samantha didn't see anyone using a cell phone in the hall. She hoped she could confront her blackmailer and bargain for her freedom. This was a free period for her so she went to the Teachers' Lounge. A few more boys stared at her as she passed them in the halls. This would be an adjustment for everyone, she thought. She made it to the lounge and poured herself a cup of coffee.

Don, the gym teacher, stared at her from the moment she walked in the lounge. Samantha swore she could feel his eyes on her body. She wondered if it could be Don who was blackmailing her. He did linger in hallways after the bells rang. He did hit on her once at a faculty Christmas party when Bill was less than twenty feet away. Was it possible he was the one blackmailing her? Samantha looked at Don and he did not turn away. He looked right back at her. She felt so exposed and decadent in these revealing clothes and wearing smoky eyeshadow. This wasn't her. This was not how she showed herself to the world. She had Don's interest. It looked as though he was about to say something to her right before she jumped. Her phone vibrated.

"in ur next class flirt with the guys"

Don obviously did not send that text. She sat down at a table away from Don and typed in a reply.

"I don't know how to do that." She had to wait a few minutes for the response.

"walk up 2 guys and lean forward. talk 2 guys in moaning whisper. lift up ur skirt in class. let boys look and pretend not 2 notice them. move around class and sway hips. trail fingers on guys backs. drop things and slowly pick them up. u k what 2 do. just do it."

Samantha lowered her head. She had to do this to protect Tom but it was destroying her. This was wrong. This was not how a teacher acted. Whoever this was was going to get her fired and arrested. She knew she had to follow these instructions, but she was going to do so carefully. She had some measure of control in this situation. She decided, somewhat, how much of herself she revealed to her students. At least until another text corrected her. She would play her part cautiously and see if she could get through without new texts.

*****

By fifth period, the only topic of conversation in the cafeteria was Mrs. Flick. Boys went into great detail when discussing her thong and the steps they took to see it. They called her a cocktease. They speculated how horny she must be to dress like that to school. Almost all of the boys imagined themselves as the one who discovered how good she was in bed.

One boy in the cafeteria loudly said, "I always knew Mrs. Flick was a slut."

That boy didn't know Mrs. Flick had a son. He didn't know Tom could hear his entire conversation. 

Tom could not believe the things being said about his mother. He was enraged and he didn't know where to direct his anger. He wanted to beat the shit out of the loud boy at the next lunch table but he knew the other boy would beat him to a pulp and the incident would go in his permanent record. He sat in silence as he heard his mother's name mentioned by every group of pupils around him.

Tucker was saying, "And then she arched her back while she sat on the desk. Oh, my God! Her tits are so firm! I could suck on them all day..."

"What the fuck, Tuck?!?" Tom snapped at him.

"I'm sorry. man," Tucker said. "Your mom is way hotter than any other teacher here and now she dresses hotter, too. Don't yell at me, ok, man? Did I tell your mom to dress like that?"

Tom was still very angry at Tucker but he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do to stop Tucker from thinking of his mother like that.

The next several days got worse for Tom. His mom wore button down blouses that had so many open buttons you could see her bra. She wore holdup stockings that went all the way up her long legs. She touched students playfully on the shoulder as she spoke to them. She constantly dropped pens and took forever to pick them up. She spoke in a breathy voice instead of her usual teacher voice. You could tell male students who had just left her class from the trail of boners. Hallways would get silent as his mom made her way through and then they would get deafening with all the guys commenting on what they wanted to do to her.

After a week of quiet misery, Tom couldn't take it anymore. His mom had stopped wearing a long coat when she drove them to school. Kids on buses would look down at their car and point.

After breakfast one morning, Tom decided to confront his mother.

"Mom," he said, "this has to stop."

"What has to stop, Honey?"

"THIS!" he shouted as he gestured to her outfit. Her top had a plunging neckline. A gold necklace she was wearing vanished in her cleavage. The skirt she had on was so short that when she sat you could see the face of Hello Kitty on her panties. "You can't go to school dressed like this, Mom. You're embarrassing me. The whole school is talking about you and they're saying some really filthy things."

"Like what?" she asked calmly.

"Devon Proctor said he wanted to split you like a log with his big black cock."

"Really? He said that?"

"Yes, he did," replied Tom. "Aren't you angry at that? Don't you care that boys stare at your panties all day?"

Samantha couldn't tell him the truth. She'd been warned by text several times what would happen if she said anything to anyone. She tried to rationalize her sudden change in behavior in a way that would placate Tom.

"Honey, you've looked at other teachers, haven't you? There's no sin in dressing in a way that shows off your body. I've worked very hard to stay in shape. It took forever to lose the weight I gained when I was carrying you. I did it, though, and I've kept it off for years. Shouldn't I be proud of that? Shouldn't I celebrate the fact I've gone almost two decades and stayed the same dress size?"

"But, Mom, this isn't about staying the same dress size. This is about you acting like a slut!" Tom barked.

"Excuse me, young man?"

"You're a slut, Mom! Every guy in school thinks so. You're a dirty cockteasing slut!"

"How dare you speak to me like that?" Samantha was furious. She was doing this to protect him and he resented her. He thought she was trash. She didn't want to hear another word from him. "I can't look at you anymore. How dare you call me a slut? Go up to your room. You're staying home today."

"You're kidding me..." Tom said in a dazed quiet voice.

Samantha took out her phone and called one of her contacts.

"Claire? Good morning! It's Sam Flick. Tom's not himself today. He's going to be staying home while he gets over it. I'll be in in about fifteen minutes. Right. See you then." She put her phone back in her purse and in a low tone she said, "Go up to your room right now."

Tom was dumbfounded. He went upstairs and sat on his bed. He heard his mother walk up the steps. He heard her enter her room. She did not close the door to her room but he heard her footsteps coming closer to his room. She stood in his doorway.

"Well, you don't have to worry anymore, Thomas John Flick. No one will be looking at my panties anymore. You're grounded today. Stay in your room. You may have lunch and go to the bathroom, but that's it. And no video games. You sit there and think about how to speak to your mother."

She walked downstairs in a steady cadence, grabbed her bag and slammed the door behind her when she left. Tom heard her drive off. He stayed on his bed, in the exact same position, for ten minutes because he was afraid of his mother coming back and catching him out of his room. When he was sure she wasn't returning, he went to his parents' room. The door was ajar. There, on his parents' bed, was a neatly folded pair of panties. The gleeming face of Hello Kitty stared up at the ceiling. Tom's face went pale. He knew these were the panties she'd just been wearing. She hadn't been in there long enough to put on another pair. She went commando.

*****

The male students were very excited when Mrs. Flick spread her legs open in class. At first, as her thighs parted, they thought they were getting their usual treat of panties with cameltoe. There was stunned silence in the classroom when it became obvious Mrs. Flick was not wearing panties. Phones came out. Pictures and videos were taken of Mrs. Flick and she didn't stop them. For a moment, it looked like she was angry and she was going to say something. Instead, she looked at something on her desk for a long time and then her face changed. She tilted her head back and arched herself. Her hands ran slowly up and down her sides. Every boy with a phone was getting great footage. She stopped suddenly. She looked at something on her desk again. She started to recite a poem as she arched her back. She moved her shoulders forward and back slowly. It made her breasts move in a very lovely, but subtle way. Mrs. Flick moved her chest while reciting a poem! The boys were cheering in approval. It was very loud in the class as this slutty teacher raised her tits at her students. The poem could barely be heard. She suddenly stopped again. She looked at whatever it was she'd been looking at before, then picked up the textbook and stayed still on the desk.

The door opened. One of the other teachers, Mr. Bridges, had heard the cheering and wanted to make sure everything was alright. The phones were quickly put away. Mrs. Flick told Mr. Bridges that they were just very excited about a particularly moving poem and promised to keep the noise down. Mr. Bridges left and Mrs. Flick finished reciting the poem. She explained it was one of Shakespeare's sonnets.

*****

Samantha couldn't believe she'd just done that. It was bad enough the blackmailer told her to allow the boys to record her with their phones. She was shocked when the demand to move her shoulders like that while reciting poetry appeared on the screen of her phone. It was so undignified. Who does things like that in a room full of eighteen-year-olds? She was glad she'd noticed her phone moving on the desk. She never would have heard the vibration over all the cheers and cat calls. The text warned her that someone was coming. Samantha was still shaking but finished the sonnet after Mr. Bridges left. The next text told her to slowly spread her legs again. The phones reappeared and she said nothing about it.

*****

A mass text went out when the pictures and videos started to circulate around the school. The text said to keep the pics and vids in the school. Nothing was to go on the internet. If Mrs. Flick got fired or arrested, there wouldn't be any more shows. If, however, everyone kept this to themselves then the shows would get better and better. No one could argue with that logic. The students followed the instructions of the mass text. The text also said not to say anything to Tom.

*****

Samantha was getting angry with Tom. Three days had passed since she kept him home that day and he still hadn't apologized for calling her a slut. It was hard enough to do all these despicable things for her unseen tormentor. It was five times as hard when she didn't have the respect of the person she was going through this hell for. He barely looked at her anymore. Samantha continued to sacrifice her dignity for him. As angry as she was, she couldn't let him be arrested. She followed her tormentor's instructions. She stopped trying to figure out his (she was convinced it was a male) identity. She was sure it was a student, but there was no single student who was in all the classes she received texts in.

She was arching her back and rubbing her sides in her first period class when an announcement asked her to report to the main office immediately. The class made sounds that indicated they thought she was in trouble. She was fairly certain that she was also. She had done some things she was not comfortable with and these things were being recorded now. She assigned the students work to do while she was gone and put her son's friend, Tucker, in charge of the class.

Samantha walked over to Claire, the school secretary, and asked her what was up. Claire told her that Mr. Bridges was very ill and had to leave early. They wanted to know if Samantha could cover his English classes for the next few days. Mr. Bridges was Tom's teacher, Samantha knew. She was glad the blackmailer wouldn't be in those classes. She could show her son what a respectable teacher she really was. She looked over the class schedule and told Claire she'd be happy to take over those classes. It meant she'd have to eat her lunch during one class but Claire assured her that Abe Klein said that would be fine.

She returned to her classroom and was amazed at how quiet the students all were. Everyone was reading the assignment she'd given them. She sat down in her chair but before she could relax, she got a new text.

"sit on the desk and pull down the top of ur shirt a little"

She was distraught that she had been reduced to this. She happily thought that at least when she took over Mr. Bridges classes she would be free from this slavery. She let out a sad sigh and pulled down the top of her shirt to reveal quite a bit of cleavage as she continued talking about the poetry of Hart Crane. She alternated her shoulders, one forward and one back, to allow her bra clad breasts to sway. She made no attempts to stop the cellphones that were aimed at her. Samantha felt filthy. She had no idea she would ever have to sink this low. Her class now knew what her breasts, vagina and rear end looked like. She knew her blackmailer would not be satisfied with this for long. She was certain she'd eventually be teaching naked. This wasn't what she'd agreed to but she was committed to it. Tom's freedom depended on her. He didn't even know it and he could never know. He thought of her as a slut. She certainly felt she was doing things a slut would. Only she knew how much she despised this behavior. No one would understand this.

The bell rang and Samantha pulled her shirt back up. She crossed the hall to Mr. Bridge's class and sat behind the desk. This period was, thankfully, one of two that never got interrupted with texts. Jeff and Tom walked in the class together. Tom seemed shocked to see his mother sitting in his teacher's seat. His mouth hung open in an unanswered question.

When the seats were all filled, Samantha stood up and announced, "Hi there, everyone. As some of you may have heard, Mr. Bridges went home sick today. I'm Mrs. Flick. I'll be covering some of his classes for the next few days. Let's not try any of that 'Mess with the sub' crap. I am a regular teacher here and I won't be taking any of that. I have your lesson plan so turn to page 262 in your texts." She sat down as the class followed her instructions.

She was in her element now. All the distractions of the last few weeks were behind her. She picked a student to begin reading from that page and leaned back in the chair. She was about to pick another reader when her phone vibrated.

"sit on the desk and spread ur legs"

No, no, no, no, no, no, she thought. This is my free period. This can't be happening. No, no, no.

She looked at Tom. She couldn't believe this nightmare. The blackmailer had always seemed to go out of his way to keep this from Tom. Now this was happening. Samantha stood up and walked in front of the desk. She picked a girl to read the next section and very slowly opened her legs. It seemed to be subtle enough, at first, to go unnoticed. It didn't remain that way for long. The cells came out and Samantha pushed her legs as far apart as possible. A new group of students saw her pussy in person. She smiled, as she'd grown accustomed to, and picked another reader. As a new voice droned on, her eyes turned to her once again pulsating phone. Her head dropped in shame as she read the new text message. As she had in her last class, Samantha silently showed her cleavage.

Tom couldn't believe what he was seeing. Students were holding up their phones to record his mother who was showing off her pussy and her cleave. It was too bizarre to be real. He wanted to scream. He should have been screaming. He needed to do something but he had no idea what the hell he could do to stop this.

Samantha got another text.

"let ur tits sway. flirt with any1 who talks 2 u"

Her shoulders almost automatically began to alternate. She felt like pond scum moving her body like this in the same room as her boy, but in the same moment she was still upset with him. He called her a slut and never apologized. There was a part of her that needed Tom to suffer as she had been suffering. She was bearing this burden for him, even though he would never know that.

The student reading the chapter got to the part in the text that said poets fill the holes in our imaginations. A boy behind Tom said that he knew what holes he would like to fill.

Samantha turned to the student who made the remark and said, "You need the right tools to fill holes. I doubt your tool is big enough."

Another boy said, "Mrs. Flick, you're really good with poetry, right?" He was trying to set her up for a cheesy pickup line.




Extorting the English Teacher



She answered him, "Why? Do you need me to help you straighten out your Longfellow?"

Tom was devastated. He sat in mute humiliation as his mother traded double entendres with several more students. He simply couldn't understand what was going on with her. He didn't know why she seemed determined to make his life a living hell. He didn't even look at her when the bell rang. He just grabbed his books and trotted off to his next class.

The blackmailer was getting worse. He ordered Samantha to wear more revealing outfits. Her third day in Tom's class, she was bowing low and revealing an incredible amount of décolletage while being recorded by the male students. She didn't know how much more she could bear. She blocked everyone out. Her son. All of the students. She had no choice. The blackmailer obviously could see her and hear her. If she didn't comply, she'd be sending her child to prison. She didn't feel human anymore. She was some depraved animal instead. She could tell herself she was helping her son but she just wasn't sure any longer. She waited for Bill to fall asleep every night and then she would let herself cry. It was her only release now that the blackmailer contacted her during every class. Things became a little easier when Mr. Bridges returned. The blackmailer did not contact her during the three classes she would have been covering for him.

One week before the Senior Trip, Jeff and Tucker came to the house while Tom was at the library.

"Oh, hi, boys," Samantha said cheerfully. "I'm afraid Tom's not here right now."

"We know," said Jeff. "We came here to talk to you."

"Oh?" she asked somewhat defensively. She wondered if Tom had sent them to talk her out of her slutty ways.

"May we come in?" asked Jeff.

"Oh, of course. What did you want to talk about?"

"Our arrangement," Tucker said.

"What arrangement is that?"

Tucker answered, "The one where you do whatever we say so we don't tell the cops about Tom breaking in to the school."

"You bastards! It's been the two of you all along?" Samantha asked in a demanding tone.

"Watch your language, Mrs. Flick," Jeff said in a threatening way. "There are tons of kids at school who are just waiting to post pics and vids of your pussy on Tumblr and destroy your career. We've stopped them so far. Don't give us a reason to destroy you."

"Haven't you already? Why are you here anyway?"

"We might not be able to give you your instructions by phone during the Senior Trip," Tucker said with a gleam in his eyes. "We need to make sure you'll respond as well when we give you orders directly. Show us your tits."

Samantha was freaking out inside despite how calm she may have appeared externally. There were two blackmailers! They were her son's best friends! She had known Tucker since he was a toddler! Most likely they were the two who broke into the school with Tom, but she didn't have any proof to make such an allegation. They, on the other hand, had all the male members of the senior class - and possibly some of the girls - shooting daily videos of her doing various lewd acts in the classroom. The blackmail might have been all about Tom before, but now her ass was also on the line. There was no way to stop now. They had everything on her and she had nothing on them. She was their slave.

She pulled down her top and slid her bra off her shoulders. She couldn't believe she'd done that.

"Play with them," Jeff said. Samantha grabbed her breasts and kneaded them hard. She was videoed as she played with her chest.

The next few days were a blur of such commands. The extortionists ordered Samantha to meet them at various places. They made her do more and more degrading things. The day before the big trip, they were back at her house while Tom was out shopping for supplies.

"Strip," Jeff said. 

She began quickly unbuttoning her blouse but was told to slow down. Music was put on, she had no idea which one did it, and she began to strip to the rhythm of the song playing. It was Dark Horse by Katy Perry. She'd never danced to something like this before. At her tormentors' instructions, she moved her hips thusly and shook her tits once they'd been freed from her blouse and bra. She whipped her long hair and slapped her own tits as her body swayed to the woman's lilting singing voice. She was down to her panties and heels when the rap portion of the song began. She twerked hard to Juicy J's voice and then slid her hands in her panties when the song returned to the chorus. Tucker was making a video of this on his phone and Jeff was stroking himself. Samantha was disgusted with herself and her houseguests but she was trapped. 

She slid the panties down her legs and sat on the arm of the sofa. She leaned back and played with her pussy as the two boys watched every motion of her hands and fingers. Tucker whipped out his cock and stroked himself without losing a moment of recording time. Jeff turned off the music as the three of them masturbated in front of each other. Samantha was ashamed. What if either of the men of the house walked in at that moment? What would she say? What could she say? She'd have to admit to being a slut. She'd have to lie and say that she enjoyed this. She would have to convince someone she loved that this wasn't a living hell for her.

She had hoped that being a chaperone on the Senior Trip would have gotten her a respite from the extortion. Now she saw how utterly trapped she was. Both of these boys and Tom were signed up for the trip. They would be spending four days and three nights in Atlantic City. Her dreams of rest were now hit hard by the reality of opportunities for even greater suffering.

The three of them came very closely to one another. Samantha thought Tucker spurted first but wasn't positive about that. They had walked up to her and came on her belly. They were dogs marking their territory. She kept thinking about the repeated words from the song they'd just played for her. "Once you're mine, there's no going back."

Samantha was dreading the trip. She envisioned horrors upon horrors being inflicted on her by her son's friends. The events she anticipated were so awful that the week of "regular" torment had gone quickly for her. She didn't hesitate to move her shoulders to slowly bounce or sway her breasts in the classroom. She exposed her vagina and her cleavage all while teaching her lessons. She played with herself with her son's two friends as her private audience. She stripped and twerked for their amusement. This was nothing, after all, to the sexual tortures she expected in AC. 

There were two buses and three chaperones for the trip. Since she would have a bus full of students all to herself, Samantha got to pick which students would be on her bus. She had made her list very carefully. She had selected only eighteen-year-olds, hoping for some sense of maturity. Before they had revealed their extorting identities to her, Samantha had assigned Jeff and Tucker to her bus along with her son. These were not school buses, much to her surprise. Since they would be used all four days to go from place to place and this was during a school week, the admission money required for the trip included the price of charter buses. They had very comfortable seats with tall seatbacks. They also had television monitors connected to a blu-ray player. The trip was only about an hour but they could watch a film if they wanted. One of the boys on Samantha's bus joked about watching some of the movies they had made of her. She was sure that Tom heard that and her head slumped a little. Tom sat in the front of the bus. He was the only boy who opted to do so. All the other boys were crammed in the back of the bus. As chaperone, she would be expected to go up and down the aisle and make sure that everything was ok.

The bus drivers decided to avoid the Parkway. They took Black Horse Pike towards Atlantic City. It was a little longer mileage wise, but would most likely have less traffic. When the bus left the school, Samantha was sitting near the middle of the bus. She was talking to two of the girls in her Literature class who did not think of her as a skank. One girl's father was going through a midlife crisis and she felt she understood what was going on with Mrs. Flick. They were having a pleasant conversation as Pine Hill disappeared behind them.

When their bus reached Sicklerville, the boys in the back of the bus were making a lot of noise. Samantha excused herself, got up and went back to check on them. There was a large group of boys gathered around Jeff, who was holding up a tablet. The video playing on the tablet was Mrs. Flick, in her own living room, stripping to Dark Horse.

"Hey there, slut!" one of the boys from Mr. Bridge's class said to her.

"Now, now," said Tucker. "There's no need for name calling. Come over here, Mrs. Flick. I need you to do something for me."

"What do you need?" Samantha asked with a feeling of dread rising slowly up her spine.

"Not much," Tucker said with a smile. "Just sit on my lap for a little while."

The bus was picking up speed and Samantha thought sitting would be more comfortable than trying to stand, even if she'd be sitting on a boy's lap. She did not relish the idea of sitting on a guy's lap. She really didn't need him to say that she was fat. She wasn't fat, she knew, but who knows what he might say if she put her full weight on him. She thought he might be polite about it. Besides, he owned her. As nicely as it was given, it was still an order. Samantha sat on Tucker's lap. He wrapped an arm around her chest and slowly groped her left breast. Samantha tried not to react to the sensations. She knew if she made any noises, the boys around her would think she liked the way she was being treated. She would not stop this young man she'd known for most of his life but she would not give him the satisfaction of an auditory response.

She bit her lip as he pulled on her breast through her top and her bra. Tucker grew impatient and pulled the shirt up and pulled the sleeve off her left arm. The top sat on her shoulder on that side. He popped that breast out of the cup of the bra. He pulled hard on her nipple. Samantha kept herself from moaning. Her body rocked with the strong pull on her breast. She wondered if the driver could see her. The seat backs were tall but they weren't a wall. If the driver did see her, he didn't say anything. She held the seat in front of herself for balance.

The top was pulled off over her head, but Tucker didn't do it. It was the boy who'd called her a slut. Her right breast was pulled out of her bra and handled unceremoniously. The boy slapped hard on the side of her breast several times. Jeff, who was sitting to Tucker's left, lifted Samantha's skirt and roughly rubbed her labia and clit. She held her lips closed with her teeth. She was not going to let them think she wanted to be treated like this. She would not resist, but she would not moan. She held on to her reserve. She felt the tugging and slapping on her breasts. She felt Tucker nibbling on her earlobe like a lover would. She felt the harsh rubbing fingers on her vaginal folds. She heard Jeff say she was wet. She wasn't sure if that was true. She wasn't focusing on that. She ignored the sea of phones aimed at her general direction. She only cared about two things. She would not make noise and she would not cum.

More hands were on her. Some were gentle but most were not. She was not a lover to them. She was a toy. They slapped. They pinched. Her long hair was pulled hard. Her face was slapped. A hand pushed hard on the back of her head. It was Jeff. He was guiding her head to his penis. It was wordless, certainly, but clearly this was an order. She stopped resisting and let her head go down. He pulled his penis out of his pants.

"Suck it, slut," he said coldly.

This was not her choice. She was not a slut. She opened her mouth because that was what her owner told her to do. She would never think of him as her master. She sucked on his cock. His hand was still on the back of her head. He pushed her farther than she wanted to go but she did not resist. Maybe he would suffocate her and end this all once and for all. It would be embarrassing to die with a young boy's penis in her mouth but the torture would be over. He stopped pushing her head and her instinct to breathe oxygen took over and she pulled her head off. She coughed violently but air was getting in. He'd almost choked her. She took in two really big breaths and her head was pushed down again. Samantha breathed through her nose but still had some difficulty. Jeff was trying to get her lips to completely engulf his penis. He was choking her again and really didn't seem to care.

Samantha's nose pressed against his crotch hair and he again released her. She sputtered for air as the phallus drew back from her throat. Her head was pulled up by her hair and she was dragged into the aisle of the bus. Someone slapped Samantha's cheek with his penis. She was surrounded by boys and completely exposed in the aisle.

"Give a blowjob to anyone who wants one," Jeff ordered her. "And do not waste one drop of cum. Swallow it all."

"Hey, man," Tucker said quietly to Jeff. "Are you sure about this? Tom is right up there..."

"So?" came the cold reply.

"Do we really want to humiliate him like that? I mean, he's our friend."

"Is he?" Jeff pondered this for a moment and then turned to Mrs. Flick and reminded her, "Don't waste a drop."

Jeff and Tucker saw their control over Mrs. Flick very differently. Tucker saw Mrs. Flick as a life-sized Barbie doll with black hair. They could dress her however they liked. They could pose her in any position they chose.

Jeff saw Mrs. Flick as a promise he'd made to his sister. His sister, Tina, was a Junior now but had been in Mrs. Flick's Sophomore English class last year and felt unduly pressured by Mrs. Flick. The English Teacher was very hard on the young woman. Mrs. Flick was disappointed because she saw Tina's potential. All Tina saw was a woman yelling at her for simple mistakes. The yelling was so distracting that it led to other mistakes and a vicious cycle was born.

Tina had asked Tom out once last year and he all but laughed in her face. The Flicks made Tina feel like shit and Jeff swore he made sure they knew for themselves what shit felt like. He wanted both of them to be humiliated. His friendship with Tom was a ruse to get close to him. It almost took more patience than he had. When he suggested breaking into the school with Tom, he'd planned to knock Tom out and leave him to be found by a teacher or a janitor.

Jeff suspected Tucker dropped the trophy on purpose to spare Tom from humiliation. It didn't matter. Tina's vengeance was at hand.

The boys surrounding Samantha quickly grew impatient with her. She quickly found herself bobbing her head on one penis while stroking two others at the same time. She felt disrespected by these boys but refused to be a victim. She repeatedly told herself she could handle this.

Her glasses were removed and the streaks of her mascara caused by tears she cried when she was choked became obvious. She switched off often as there were several eager dicks that wanted to feel the inside of her mouth.

Tom looked over his shoulder at the back of the bus where a throng of boys were very excited about something. He heard the moaning and the chanting from his fellow students. He knew his mom was back there somewhere but he refused to believe she was doing anything sexual. As he looked, some of the guys who were facing him smiled brightly the way one does when they are party to a private joke. Tom denied the possibility his mother was doing anything wrong.

The bus passed the huge billboard for the gentleman's club in Hammonton and a few of the boys who took turns fucking Mrs. Flick's mouth joked that she'd make more money in a single weekend at the club than she would all year as a teacher.

Someone pinched Samantha's nose closed as she deep throated another one of her students. Her head was held in place and she panicked. She gagged and the hands restraining her let go in time for her to grab two lungfuls of air. She was coughing and shaking violently but the horny boys would not let her rest for long.

Samantha's entire world became a veritable sea of young cocks pointed at her face. She would suck one and stroke two others but there were always more waiting for her. She felt very small and insignificant. She felt like the slut that boy had called her. Samantha couldn't rest. They wouldn't let her. Her only choice was to speed up and make all the boys cum. The cocks in her hands began to stiffen and the wielders of those dicks seemed desperate for release. As each pupil reached the point of no return, Samantha would suck hard on the tip and greedily accepted the deposits made into her mouth. She had to act quickly as some boys threatened to cum on her breasts and she was not allowed to waste a drop.

There was still a huge crowd around her but almost all of the boys had been sated by the time they were five miles away from Atlantic City. Tucker reached into his travel bag and pulled out a large package of wet wipes. He handed the package to Mrs. Flick and ordered her to clean herself up. The boy who'd called her a slut tried to pull the package away from her.

"Whores don't get to clean up," he said.

"Stop being a dick, man," Tucker retorted. "If we get there and the other two chaperones see Mrs. Flick like this, they're going to call off the trip and they'll report this. We don't want that shit. Let her clean up and make sure she looks like she did when she got on the bus." He turned to her and said, "Don't worry about the makeup. Wipe all of that shit off and reapply it later. We're not far. You have to hurry."

Jeff almost wished they could let Mrs. Flick step off the bus the way she'd looked but he understood what Tucker was talking about. As much as he wanted the Flicks to be completely humiliated, there were two other chaperones and he had to be careful.

The bus pulled up to the hotel they'd be staying at. Tom had caught rumors that the boys on the bus would all be fucking his mother at the hotel but he dismissed these as the wishful thinking of horny teens. He'd lost sight of his mother for a long time but she eventually came forward, looking fresh, and sat down with the girls with whom she'd been speaking earlier.

It was a quick check in and drop off at the hotel. Rooms were assigned, bags were left on beds and then the busses were boarded again as the group was transported to the Atlantic City Aquarium.

The aquarium wasn't the most awe inspiring place in the world. It was not as impressive as the aquariums in Camden or Baltimore. It had some nice exhibits. The most popular was the touch tank. Visitors were allowed to reach in to touch bamboo sharks and other interesting marine life. Touching a shark quickly became a rite of honor among the boys in the group.

Since the aquarium had three floors the only male chaperone set up what he called a "zone defense" for the chaperones. They would be there for three hours. Each chaperone would take a floor. They would stay for an hour and then cycle through until all three adults had been on all three floors.

Samantha started on the first floor. There were benches strewn about for visitors. She was given orders to pose on the bench in such a way that her skirt would ride up and her ass would be on display for all those who walked by. It was an embarrassing enough command on its own but it became worse with the realization they were not the only group touring the aquarium. Part of the command was that she had to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She bent over the bench, legs splayed, and looked with admiration at the tanks. She would occasionally caution students not to run. Her heart shaped ass was on full display and she calmly acted like a responsible adult in charge of a large group of pupils. After thirty minutes, she was instructed to change benches and poses. She was in the main flow of traffic and her pussy was exposed for all to see. Her back was arched. She felt as slutty as she looked.




Extorting the English Teacher



On the second floor she was allowed to move about freely. Jeff and Tucker would occasionally walk by and reach under her skirt to feel or grab her ass. This hour went by a bit more quickly than the previous hour.

There were not enough attractions in the aquarium to warrant a three hour visit but they were not scheduled to go to the next stop on their itinerary for an hour and everything was prepaid. They were stuck there. There was barely anything of interest on the third floor. Mrs. Flick had her top and bra pulled so that her left nipple was peeking out. She had to walk around for an hour as though nothing were amiss. If anyone pointed it out to her, she was allowed to act suitably embarrassed and cover herself. Once the helpful person was gone, she would expose the other nipple. Only two girls pointed out the nipple slip during the entire hour.

When their time at the aquarium was up, they boarded the buses and headed for lunch at the Rainforest Café. As there was nowhere private to go at the restaurant, Mrs. Flick was allowed a brief reprieve from her ribald torment. Tom and his friends sat fairly far away from her. She understood she was an embarrassment to him. She concentrated on keeping order in the eating establishment and enjoying her meal. 

The next stop on their tour was the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! Museum. It had a few interesting and a few gruesome exhibits and it took 45 minutes to go through. The chaperones needed to work together to keep boys from pranking other students at the more bizarre items on display. As such, Mrs. Flick was mostly unmolested at the museum. Jeff rubbed her pussy under her skirt for ten minutes when he was pretty sure the other adults weren't looking.

After their tour of the museum, the group was taken back to the hotel. Everyone took advantage of the free time before dinner to rest. Most of them rested in their own rooms.

Samantha couldn't rest. A wave of guilt swept over her as she thought of everything she'd done that day. She'd given blowjobs and handjobs to students. She chewed six sticks of gum to try to get the taste of cum out of her mouth. She exposed herself to students and strangers. She loved her husband and felt ashamed of her recent activities. She felt guilty about wanting to be smothered to death. It would be a sin. As angry as Tom got her recently, it would be unthinkable to allow herself to die while he still needed both parents.

The school group had dinner at The Melting Pot. Samantha had checked to make sure none of the students were lactose intolerant before allowing anyone to have a fondue dinner. Everyone enjoyed the meal. It was a gorgeous night so they decided to walk back to the hotel from the restaurant. The meal had done wonders for Samantha. The warm food filled her up and the fact that the three chaperones sat so they could see each other prevented any shenanigans. She walked back in a better mood than she had in weeks. 

The chaperones did bed checks and went over the itinerary for the next day. Samantha was feeling better about herself and looked forward to a good night's sleep.

At some time around one, there was a knock on her door. She expected it to be one of the other chaperones. She did not expect it to be Jeff and Tucker. She opened her door and they pushed their way inside. The door was closed and they looked at her in the diaphanous nightgown she wore.

"Nice, very nice," said Tucker as he looked her up and down.

"What do you want?" she asked her extortionists.

"Blowjobs," said Jeff in a chilly voice.

"You've had blowjobs," she retorted.

"We want the best damned blowjobs you've ever given in your life," replied Jeff.

Samantha thought that wouldn't be so hard. She generally didn't give blowjobs. Bill never asked for them. He was the only person, before this day, she'd performed fellatio on and really didn't know what she was doing. She used her teeth and Bill stopped asking.

The two boys pushed Mrs. Flick onto her knees. Tucker took a pillow off her bed and set it on the floor at his feet. Mrs. Flick put her knees on the pillow. Tucker quickly dropped his pajama pants and held out his cock for her. She hesitated. This seemed like a gateway moment to her. If she allowed this, at this moment, it would be expected of her in the future. She also had the feeling it was too late. They'd reached that moment on the drive in to AC and it was already expected of her. She opened her mouth to ask a question and her mouth was filled before she could utter a syllable. Her right hand was grabbed and placed on Jeff's cock. She alternated between the two boys. One would get a blowjob while the other got a handjob. Tucker told her he wanted to cum on her glasses. She realized it was an order. Jeff wanted to be deepthroated. Another order. Jeff was rougher with her than he had been on the bus. She jerked hard on Tucker's cock as her nose was tickled by Jeff's pubic hair. She gasped and sputtered for air when Jeff finally released her head. He was about to ram her head back down but Tucker turned her face and claimed his turn in her mouth. She bobbed hard and fast and he felt himself about to cum. He told her to open her mouth and hold still. Tucker jerked himself off and left a nice dollop of goo on each of the lenses of her glasses. Some got on her nose and some was in her hair. Jeff took over. He shoved his cock as deeply as he could get it. He slapped her tits and used her hair like the bridle of a horse. It seemed to take forever to get Jeff off, but he finally came in her mouth and insisted that she not waste a drop. She caught his release and showed it to him. This was something he liked her to do. As much as she was disgusted by this act, she would open her mouth so Jeff could see her swirl the cum around with her tongue. For his benefit alone, she pretended this was the best tasting thing that had ever been in her mouth and then swallowed.

The boys left her room as though it was theirs. They were not subtle at all about it.

In the morning, the group enjoyed the hotel's continental breakfast. The buses were loaded and the tourists from the school headed to the amusement park on the Steel Pier. This wasn't Disney World, but it was a fairly nice park. There was a pre-fab funhouse and the boys insisted Mrs. Flick go through it seven times. The "funhouse" had a shaky bridge you had to cross. It also had a long, slim, ladder that had to be climbed. The boys of the group loved going behind Mrs. Flick as she ascended the ladder. With a short skirt and no panties on, those behind her had an excellent view of her ass and pussy.

There was one roller coaster that everyone seemed excited to try. Tom loved coasters. He loved sitting in the front seat. His mother was in line behind him and wound up directly behind him on the roller coaster. It wasn't clear what happened as the cars climbed the first hill of the roller coaster. It might have been the wind. It could have been the angle of their ascent. It was also possible the boy sitting next to Mrs. Flick wanted a better view. Whatever the cause, Mrs. Flick rode the majority of the ride with her skirt up and her pussy on display. It seemed like the entire park except Tom knew she wasn't wearing anything under her skirt. Jeff certainly tried to show off his teacher's pussy.

The students and their chaperones had lunch at the park. Tucker and Jeff put Mrs. Flick on any and every ride that bounced, bumped or flipped. The other boys on the trip were very appreciative of these efforts. By the time they left the amusement park, the English Teacher was walking with her head hung in shame.

Dinner was at a fancy steak house. The group was seated in all the available places. It was impossible to seat them together. Jeff and Tucker shared a booth with Mrs. Flick and they took the opportunity to lift up her skirt and rub her pussy throughout the dinner. They were both reasonably sure the wait staff could see everything. One guy came over much more often than was necessary to refill their water glasses. Jeff and Tucker rubbed Mrs. Flick hard. They tried to make her moan. They wanted to see if she would attract attention to herself. They almost had her at one point but stopped rubbing her pussy when their entrees were served.

Samantha was not surprised when there was a knock on her door at one. She already had a pillow on the floor. She was about to kneel when Jeff grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her into a kiss. He practically dragged her to her bed. He threw her on to it and climbed on top of her. Samantha tried to push him off, but he grabbed her hard and pulled her nightgown over her head. He kicked her legs apart and rubbed his pajama covered crotch over her naked one. Tucker dropped the garment bag he'd carried in, came from the side and sucked on her right breast. He licked all around the nipple. Jeff slapped the nipple of the left breast. Samantha moaned in pain as he slapped it several more times. He acted as though the moans were sounds of pleasure and tried to claim her. Samantha did not want to commit adultery. She stiffened her body.

"Don't resist me or I'll send your useless son to prison," Jeff ordered.

Jeff learned everything he knew about sex from watching porn. Unfortunately for the sexy MILF he desired, he watched pay per view. He didn't buy entire movies. He only paid for the scenes he was interested in. He knew nothing of foreplay. He only knew about shoving the cock in the pussy. The teacher cried out in pain and he muffled the sound with a kiss. He hammered his rod into her haphazardly. He liked the feel of it and assumed the feeling was mutual. Tucker stood to the side of the bed and jerked off as he watched his friend fuck his other friend's mother. Jeff thrust himself hard and fast into Tom's mother. He set a fast pace and soon felt the need to cum. He really wanted to cum inside her. He felt nothing would be more humiliating to her than to have him impregnate her. He'd made a promise to Tucker, though. Right before he blew his load, Jeff pulled out and moved himself up. He stuck his dick in Tom's mother's mouth and let go. Jeff got off the bed and Tucker enjoyed his sloppy seconds. Tucker, who'd prepared for this trip, wore a rubber.

As Tucker fucked Mrs. Flick, Jeff stroked and pulled on his own dick in an attempt to get it hard again. By the time Tucker was finished with his ride, Jeff was ready. Sadly for Mrs. Flick, he knew as much about anal sex as he knew about vaginal sex. He did not prepare her ass. He just flipped her on her stomach and shoved.

Her sphincter worked valiantly to repel the invader. Brute strength won out, however, and he tore his way in. Mrs. Flick screamed in agony. Jeff remembered reading that anal sex hurt for the first few seconds and then became pleasurable to the woman. 

This was not pleasurable to Samantha. He ripped his way inside and his sawing cock ground itself against the skin tear. The penetration hurt and the thrusting was making it worse. Jeff wasn't listening to her. He liked the tight feel and continued to take his own pleasure. He thrust in hard, kept himself buried to the hilt and rolled with her so that she was on top. Tucker put on a fresh condom and slowly entered her pussy again. Samantha was sobbing. She knew they'd eventually demand sex from her but she thought she'd be prepared for it. She didn't want it like this. She was too busy screaming in pain to tell them to stop.

Much as they had the night before, after they'd had their pleasure, the boys left the room in high spirits. Samantha cried herself to sleep after a long shower.

After breakfast the next morning, the bus took the group to the Greek Temple Monument. This monument was a World War One memorial. It was a round cement structure with columns and Greek glyphs. Inside the structure was a bronze statue. The statue was a naked woman holding a broken sword standing on a pile of bodies. Some of the bodies were naked women and some looked like babies. It was sexy and grotesque at the same time. The two other chaperones stepped outside for fresh air as Mrs. Flick explained the significance of the statue and the markings.

While she explained about the savagery of war, Tucker and Jeff were feeling her up in front of everyone. Tom didn't really notice. He was looking at the tits on the statue. He didn't see his friends pawing at his mother's tits and ass. Mrs. Flick didn't act as if this was strange and that was probably why Tom listened to her but didn't look at her. She was calm when she pointed out the bodies the other figure emerged from. She read the engraved dedication on the ceiling while two boys rubbed her tits and squeezed her ass. When Mrs. Flick stopped talking, the boys stopped touching her. She led the kids out of the monument and found the other chaperones. Neither of them looked very well.

The chaperones both admitted to feeling sick and the visit to the monument was cut short. The group returned to the hotel and the chaperones discussed what to do next.

"We'll have to cancel the plans for tonight then," Samantha said to the other two.

"Why?" asked the male chaperone. "We were just going to go to the dance club across the street. You should be able to handle it. They're all going to be in the Under 21 section. You're the only one who'll be able to get a hand stamp. The kids will all get bracelets. You won't have to worry about anyone trying to sneak a drink. They'll have sodas and smoothies instead."

"Are you sure?" Samantha asked.

"Absolutely," the male chaperone said between coughs. "Let them dance for a few hours and lead them back here. There's no reason to cancel."

Samantha reluctantly agreed and told her fellow adults that she hoped they felt better soon. She went to all of the student rooms to check on them and let them know they were still on for the dance club after dinner. The last room she checked on belonged to Jeff and Tucker.

"Remember that garment bag I left in your room last night?" Tucker asked. "That's what you're wearing tonight. Don't forget to do your makeup, too. I want you to look hot."

*****

Dinner was a simple affair. The group ate in the hotel's restaurant. It was a nice meal. Samantha was the only chaperone and so did not spend much time sitting. She ate briefly and then walked around to check on everyone.

After dinner, they all went to their rooms to get dressed and ready for the club. Samantha was just about to open the garment bag Tucker left when there was a knock on her door. She stiffened in fear. She didn't want to give blowjobs or have sex tonight. She just wanted to go to the club and watch the children dance. She walked to the door and prepared herself for the next torment.

Rather than her extortionists at the door it was Tom. Samantha invited him in and he cleared his throat. He had a lot to say and needed a second to get it out.

"Mom, I just wanted to apologize for calling you a slut. I understand that this is a rough time for you. I'll be going away to college soon and maybe that makes you feel old. I understand you need to remind yourself you're still young. I get it. I just need you to know, though, that I'm suffering. I see these guys look at you and hear them talk about you and it drives me crazy. I can't take it. Mom, please behave yourself tonight."

"Don't worry, Honey. Just enjoy yourself tonight as will I. I still have to get ready. I'll see you there."

Tom gave his mother an awkward hug, hoping this meant she would not embarrass him and went back to his room to finish preparing himself for the club.

Samantha opened the garment bag and gasped. She understood what was expected of her and did her makeup.

Tom went to the club with his friends. He had no idea they had picked out the outfit his mother would wear that evening. Tom just knew he wanted to relax and enjoy himself. He was surprised to see he'd been given a plastic wrist bracelet while Jeff and Tucker both got their hands stamped. Tom had never even considered getting a fake ID. He was in the minority. There were only two other students with plastic bracelets.

Samantha had to apply her makeup a few times. She kept crying and would have to start over. She had never been to a club before. This was going to be something special for her. It was something new. Bill didn't take her dancing. He had two left feet. She didn't wear outfits like the one she had on. She didn't even dress like this for Bill. This could have been such a wonderful night and it was already tarnished.

Tom drank soda while his friends drank beer. They nodded to Tom from the Over 21 side of the club. They weren't allowed to bring their beers to the Under 21 section. It seemed like the students were the only ones in the club. It also seemed as though the three students wearing plastic bracelets were the only ones spending any time in the Under 21 section.

Samantha's outfit had no pockets. She couldn't bring her phone. She couldn't bring her wallet. She almost wished she would be carded or have to pay a cover charge. She'd have to go back to the hotel and put on something else. She walked up to the bouncer and the velvet rope was immediately opened for her. There was a cover charge but Tucker had waited near the door and paid it for her. She made her entrance.

Samantha was wearing a very short tartan micro skirt that barely covered her ass. She had on a very tight long sleeved white shirt. She'd buttoned it up to the neck. Her legs were clad in sexy black stockings that reached up to the hem of her skirt. She had her hair in pigtails. Her makeup was heavy. She looked and felt like a painted whore. She had no underwear on at all. Her nipples could be seen through the material of the top. Any movement more active than walking would lift her skirt and expose her ass and pussy. She had to walk carefully in the high heels she had on anyway, so she was ok with walking slowly.

The slow walk gave all the boys plenty of time to check her out while she was in the hallway. Many of the boys had cartoonish expressions as their eyes threatened to pop out of their heads. They called her a ho, a slut, a horny cougar and other horrible things. She really couldn't defend her own virtue dressed the way she was. She was completely humiliated in this getup and it took a lot of willpower to keep from crying right then and there.

Tom caught sight of her as she walked down the hall. At first, he was just shocked. He soon became furious and walked right up to her.

"Why the hell are you dressed like that?" Tom was pissed. He saw how the boys, including his two best friends, were looking at her. He saw the lust in their eyes. He hated it.

"Honey, you said you understood. I've never been to a disco before. I didn't want to feel old. I just want to have some fun. Can I please just have some fun tonight, Tom?"

"No one calls it a disco, Mom. This is a club." Tom was annoyed at his mother. He'd asked her to behave. He had apologized to her. He couldn't believe she would do this to him in front of his friends and classmates. He couldn't understand why she would want to draw attention to herself like that.

Tom decided he would do his best to have a good time. He went to the Under 21 section and bought another soda. He tapped his foot to the music and watched the two other bracelet bearers on the dance floor.

Jeff and Tucker escorted Mrs. Flick to the Over 21 side. They gave her her orders for the evening. She had to be sexy. She had to openly flirt with everyone. She had to move her ass. She had to look at all of the guys provocatively. If anyone offered her a drink, she had to accept it. If anyone called her a slut, bitch, whore, or anything of that nature she had to smile and flirt with that person. If anyone asked her for a sexual favor, she had to give it.

Samantha was done. She couldn't bear this nightmare a second longer. She wanted to push both of these spoiled brats away, scrub herself clean in the shower and go to bed. She couldn't. She couldn't leave the club with all these children running around unsupervised. She couldn't abandon Tom. These two animals would turn him in. She had to bear this out.




Extorting the English Teacher



Eventually, Tom got over his anger. He wanted to talk calmly and quietly to his mother. He looked around the Under 21 section but he couldn't find her there. The section was large, so he walked around a few times in case she had been walking around looking for him.

At that precise moment, Tom's mother was bent over a table being fucked hard by four different boys taking turns. They held her face down against the table as they took her. Other boys would walk by as she was being fucked and would stick their dicks in her mouth. She would blow them as best as she was able while the four boys took their turns fucking her pussy from behind.

After having been there for only an hour, Samantha had already lost count of how many boys fucked her, how many she'd given handjobs to, how many drinks she chugged down and how many boys she'd blown. She only knew she was tired, drunk and sore. Tucker and Jeff walked up to her. She tried to explain that she was too drunk to go on. Tucker told her she could rest in the Under 21 section for a little while. She happily accepted and walked arm in arm with the two blackmailers. If anything, they were holding her up. Some of the boys who'd had their way with Mrs. Flick followed her to see what she would do next.

Jeff and Tucker made Mrs. Flick dance on a table. She was wildly unsteady but she was putting on a great show. Boys walked up to the table, looked up and saw her pussy. Some of them began chanting, "Slut!"

Tom could hear the chanting but didn't know to whom it was directed. He saw his mother dancing on a table with a large group of boys making videos of her on their phones. He walked up and started screaming at his mother. She bent at the waist to hear him over the music and the boys behind her cheered. Tom realized that, the way she was bent, those boys could see up her skirt. He imagined the fun they had looking at her panties. He really had no idea they saw her naked pussy. He was too upset to speak to her and walked away.

It soon became clear Mrs. Flick was too drunk to dance safely on a table and she was brought over to the nearest dance floor. They were still in the Under 21 section and so Tom came up to her once he was calm enough to be rational.

"Mom, I have to talk to you."

"Oh, Honey. I am so thirsty. Could you get me something?" She had her finger on her mouth and she was looking at some boys to Tom's left.

Tom was disappointed, but he didn't want his mother to be uncomfortable while he spoke to her. He excused himself and went to the bar to get her a soda.

Once Tom was out of that room, Samantha knelt down on the dance floor. The boys stood in a tight circle around her. She sucked and stroked them. She stroked them rapidly and a few of the boys came in her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, but two boys came at the same time and it was difficult to catch it all. The boy who was left as lookout saw Tom returning and alerted the other boys. They zipped up and pulled Mrs. Flick to her feet. They acted as if they'd been dancing the entire time. Tom handed the soda to his mother.

"Thank you, Honey, but I'm not thirsty anymore. Someone already let me drink." She smiled at the boys as she said that. Tom was upset. He didn't understand. His mother gave Tom a kiss and she continued dancing. The boys around them had huge grins on their faces.

Tom noticed something on his mother's face. He had no reason to think it was cum.

"Mom, your face is dirty. What is that?"

"I'm not sure, Honey. I just gulped down a big drink. It might be a banana smoothie. Have you tried the smoothies here?"

"No, I've been drinking soda." Tom had no idea why the boys dancing there were all grinning at him. Tom excused himself to go to the bathroom. While he was gone, Jeff and Tucker led Mrs. Flick back to the Over 21 side.

When Tom came back to the dance floor, it was empty. He couldn't find his mother in that section. He tried to call her but her phone went straight to voicemail. He decided not to leave a message. He called Tucker instead.

Samantha was on all fours in a dimly lit portion on the Over 21 side. Tucker was fucking her from behind and Jeff was fucking her mouth. A group of boys were gathered around and recorded the scene on their phones. She was still dressed. Tucker didn't even have to lift the skirt because it was so short. Just over the thunderous music Tucker could hear Enter Sandman. It was his phone. He checked the Caller ID, grinned and answered the phone.

"Hi, Tom," Tucker said loudly so everyone would know who he was talking to. "How are you?"

"Uh, I'm ok. Have you seen my mom?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, man. She's right here. Hold on a sec." Tucker tapped Mrs. Flick's right shoulder with his phone and handed it to her.

Samantha was terrified. She had no idea what to do or say. She held herself up with her left hand and held the phone with her right. Tucker and Jeff were fucking her violently. She had to try to talk to her son with a cock ramming in and out of her mouth.

"Hewwow?"

"Mom? Is that you?"

"Yeph, Hummy. Itff mmmme... Mmmmmmmmmmmm."

"Are you ok, Mom?"

"Ohhhhhhhh, Mmmm-hmmm. Mmmmmmmph. Mmmmph. Mmmmmmph."

"What are you doing?"

"Mmmmmmmmmm Ah'mmm haffing dwinks wiff youw fwends, Hummy. Ah'mm haffing a gweat time. How're oo? Mmmmmph. Mmmmmph."

"I'm ok, I guess."

"Womberful, Hummy. Ah'mm gumma go. Youw fwends err aboot tuh giff mmme amovver dwink. Ah wuv oo." Samantha gagged on Jeff's cock and tried to hand the phone back to Tucker. Jeff took it instead.

"Hey, Tom. How are you doing?"

"I'm ok. Is my mom alright?"

"Oh, yeah. We're taking care of her. She really loves drinking cum."

"She WHAT?!?

"I'm sorry. I had to clear my throat. I said she really loves the smoothies here." Jeff came in Tom's mother's mouth. He moaned and groaned very loudly into the phone as she sucked him dry. Jeff hung up the phone and smiled at the guys who were recording the two guys spit roasting their friend's mother.

Tom was about to call his friends back when some boys who'd fucked his mother earlier walked up to him.

"Damn, boy," one of them said, "your moms is hot as shit."

Another boy mumbled, "Her shit probably is with all that hot cum up there." Tom didn't hear him.

A third boy said, "She's my favorite teacher. She's really helped me with my conjugation."

The other boys laughed at that, but Tom didn't understand what they meant. Tom noticed his friends and his mother had come back to this section. He excused himself and walked up to where his mom was dancing. She had some cum on her chin. When Tom pointed it out, she scooped the cum off her chin with her fingers and licked them clean.

"Mmmmmm. I get so sloppy drinking those banana smoothies. I just love how they taste."

Tom thought he heard a boy who'd pointed to his mother say, "Look at that slut dance with a face full of cum!"

Tom danced with his mother. She was happy to share a nice moment with him. They had been at odds with each other for too long. She actually started to enjoy herself until some boys came up to her on the dance floor and said they wanted to fuck her. She checked Tom's expression to see if he'd heard them.

Samantha told the rude boys, "I'd love to, but not in front of my son. He doesn't know I love to fuck younger boys. I love young cocks. You boys have no idea. Let's go somewhere quiet so you can take me any way you like. You can fuck me like the slut I am." She smiled as she said all this in a quietly seductive tone, but she hated every word those two bastards were forcing her to say. She loved Tom. She had to keep him safe and out of jail. She had to keep up this charade.

A short time later, Tom lost sight of his mother again. He had heard some rumors of a cougar in the club who'd fuck anyone who asked her to. He realized the only adult female in the club he'd seen all night was his mother. He didn't want to think that she was the cum hungry slut the guys around him were bragging about. He'd been listening in on a very loud conversation and one of the participants said the cougar was fucking guys right at that moment in the Ladies' bathroom.

Tom was terrified. He didn't want to believe it could be his mother. He walked to the bathroom. He had his hand on the door handle and he froze. He didn't want to know. He stood there in a cold sweat. He could hear the muffled moans issue from the other side of the thin door. He didn't want to know. He walked away.

On the other side of the thin door, a boy was laying on his back on a counter and fucking Tom's mother in the ass. Another boy squatted over them and fucked her pussy. Another boy squatted over her head and fucked her mouth. A fourth boy was getting a handjob. They switched positions many times so that each boy got to fuck each of the body parts she offered. 

Samantha was beside herself. She had destroyed her marriage for the sake of her son. She knew all the videos of her would eventually make their way to Bill. Those two dicks who claimed to be her son's friends would see to it. She knew this would all end horribly but she had to do everything in her power to save Tom. She acted like she loved being fucked by four teenaged boys at once. She gave an incredible performance.

Eventually, Tom found his mother dancing again. He met her on the dance floor and didn't want to accuse her of being the slut of the club. He'd liked it when they danced together in silence. He did so again and she smiled at him lovingly. After two songs on the dance floor with his mom, the music stopped and the lights came on. The club was closing. The DJ came out from behind the console and personally greeted the visiting students.

The DJ walked up to Tom's mother and kissed her, saying, "I just had to give a special greeting to the teacher. She was the main event of the night." The boys cheered and whistled. Tom stormed off in a huff.

Jeff and Tucker did not come to Samantha's room that night. They'd already had all the sex they could handle for one night.

After breakfast on their last day in Atlantic City, the group went to the beach. The price of the trip included private surfing lessons. She felt horribly hungover, but Samantha allowed some of the girls to talk her into taking a lesson. After three hours, she was able to ride a wave in while standing up on the board.

Reluctantly, they all left the beach. They showered and packed up. The buses were boarded and they pulled out. Samantha sat at the front of the bus and Tom sat next to her. Tucker convinced Jeff to let them have that moment. No one tried to get a blowjob or any other sexual activity from Mrs. Flick, even when she walked to the back of the bus to check up on everyone.

She returned to the front and spent the rest of the trip sitting quietly with her son.

Tom wanted to say something but knew anything he said would lead to a fight. He was much happier sitting next to her in silence.

The day after the trip was a school day, but Samantha called out. She had Tom take the bus in to school. Claire didn't seem very surprised that Samantha called out.

"Oh, you poor dear," Claire said. "I heard that bad cold was going around. I hope you feel better soon, Sam."

Samantha didn't feel better. She felt disgusting. She was disgusted with herself and with all the things she'd done for the past seven weeks. She felt miserable. She needed to remind herself why she was doing all this. She went to where she kept the photo albums and looked at pictures of her family. It was working. She actually found the strength to smile after looking at Tom's baby pictures. She picked up another photo album. She needed more of the happiness she was starting to feel. She looked at pictures from Tom's last birthday. He was worth it, she decided. Whatever happened to her career, her marriage or her life would not matter. Tom was worth every excruciatingly horrible thing that happened to her. Samantha was about to turn the page when she saw something that made her drop the album. She picked it up and turned back to the picture she saw. It was the hat. The hat that was left behind at school. She could see the symbol on the visor of the cap. It was a capital T with flames coming out of it. She'd seen that symbol before. She looked at the smiling face of the boy awkwardly holding the cap in the photo. It was Tucker, not Tom. It was Tucker's cap that Abe Klein found. She had proof Tucker was there during the break in.

She made herself something to eat. She was feeling much better and her body craved something tasty. She made an omelet for herself. As she chewed the first bite, her cell phone vibrated. She'd gotten a text.

"we heard u called out 2day. were cutting our last classes 2 fuck u in ur bed. b ready for us. dress sexy."

Samantha knew just what to wear.

Tucker rang the doorbell with a smug look on his face. When the door opened, he was shocked to see how Mrs. Flick was dressed. She had her hair in a bun. Her glasses sat perfectly on her face, not on the tip of her nose. She wore a reasonably fitting blouse, slacks and a blazer. She'd gone back to her old wardrobe with two small exceptions. She was wearing lipstick and two inch high heels.

"What the fuck is this?" Jeff demanded. "We told you to dress sexy!"

"This is the sexiest I've felt in ages," she replied. "I want to show you boys something." Samantha reached into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out a picture of Tucker holding a school ballcap so the underside of the visor could be seen.

"What's that?" Tucker asked.

"Evidence," said Samantha. "This proves it was Tucker's hat they found at the school and not Tom's."

Jeff swiped the picture out of her hand and tore it into little pieces.

"So much for that, bitch!"

"Oh, that's fine," Samantha said sweetly. She reached into the same pocket and pulled out other pictures. "I found four more taken on the same day."

Jeff began to approach her threateningly.

Samantha reached into her other pocket and said, "I also have 9 and 1 pressed on my cell phone. Take another step and I press the other 1."

Jeff stopped in his tracks and asked, "What do you want?"

"I want this all to end. I want you to tell your classmates to delete the pictures and videos of me off their phones. I don't want to see another eighteen-year-old's penis for as long as I live."

"It's too late for that," Jeff said. "We couldn't get those things deleted if we wanted to. And we don't want to."

"What was I just doing?" Samantha asked. "Oh, yes. I was pressing 1 on my phone." Her thumb moved slowly.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Tucker yelled. "Give me a second." He typed up a mass text imploring the other students to delete the pictures and videos before they got caught with them. He showed the text to Mrs. Flick before he sent it.

"Now delete them off your own phones."

Tucker quickly complied. After almost two months of threatening to send her son to prison, he knew she would send him there in a heartbeat. Tucker did not want to go to prison. Samantha glared at Jeff and held her phone in a threatening manner. Her thumb moved. It was a classic staring contest and Jeff blinked first. He deleted the pictures and videos off his phone. Samantha gave the rest of her demands before letting the boys go.

*****

Samantha came in to school the next day and had mostly returned to her old conservative wardrobe. She wore lipstick and heels these days. Occasionally, she'd wear a ponytail instead of a bun. Abe Klein was grateful. He'd been stalling for weeks to talk to Samantha about her choice in clothing and was happy now that he wouldn't have to.

*****

The seniors graduated and most left the state to go to college. Life went on. Samantha regained the respect of the students. There were always those rumors, though, that Mrs. Flick was once a cum crazy slut. Students who once went to the school, but were now in college, said amazing things. The stories were legendary.

*****

Thank you for reading! Thanks, once again, to my friend the incomparable FangsAnarchy for helping to make me a better writer.