0 comments/ 32371 views/ 3 favorites Girls Can Be Cruel By: hobrigef Friday afternoon, not always the easiest time as many teachers will attest, but Miranda Collins had her pupils' full attention. Visual attention at least. No-one was paying much heed to the message -- the importance of time and place in the 'new realist' novels of the 1950s -- but the messenger, that was another matter. They were rapt, eyes fixed on Miranda as she held forth at the front of the class. As for Miranda, she was perfectly aware her pupils were ogling rather than taking in the lesson. Understandable, of course, and something she'd grown used to when she came here. It was a prison after all! Not as if they'd be distracted by thoughts of the weekend, was it? Most of their time was spent in the cells and it was back there soon as the lesson was over. Her English Lit class was the highpoint of their week. 28 years old and fresh out of a messy divorce, the job was part of Miranda's mission to fire herself up, get her life going again. She hadn't worked in a while, hadn't been necessary with the amount her husband pulled down, and financially she still didn't need to (Mike's alimony was generous), but it wasn't about the money. Miranda was seeking confidence from the experience and it was paying off. It was empowering to be using her teaching qualification to earn her own money again. She'd been doing it for over three months now -- giving this weekly class at the Dax Groves Correctional Centre -- and she'd gotten very comfortable with the environment. She liked the place. And she didn't in the slightest mind the guys concentrating on her physical charms. Quite the opposite - she enjoyed and played up to it. Not as if she was seriously trying to teach them anything these days, truth be told. No, Ruth had been totally right and Miranda was glad she'd listened to her best friend. She'd become quite capricious and blatant about the whole thing too. So much so that even Ruthie occasionally got a little shocked on hearing about her latest Dax exploits. A pleasing role reversal there! "... all of which caused writers to want to explore these issues." Still talking, Miranda turned and perched herself on her desk. She slowly crossed her legs. Cue another outbreak of drooling as her short, tight-fitting skirt rode teasingly up her thighs. She grinned, loving how every man in the room (and especially Roy!) was now staring lustfully at her gorgeous pins. Most of them had started fiddling around with themselves, she noticed, as was allowed under the 'rules' she'd instigated a few weeks ago. They had to be careful, though. No cumming! She glanced round to check if Billy, stood in his now accustomed position in the corner, was looking at her legs too. He was. Poor guy! She'd be strolling over there again shortly to give him a little more of her extra-special 'personal attention'. Miranda frequently wore short skirts to the prison and today's was particularly provocative. More suitable for a night club really. Indeed the last time she'd worn it had been to go to a club. One of her girly nights out with Ruth. Cut several inches above the knee, it showed her (shapely) ass and her (lovely) legs off to perfection. It was very very sexy. Especially teamed with the ultra-sheer tights and the heels. Not content with this, Miranda was bra-less and wearing a rather dangerous top, skimpy and low cut, spaghetti straps, her luscious breasts partially exposed and threatening to almost tumble out from certain angles. She looked hotter than hot -- a wet dream basically - and the affect on the men was palpable. Miranda knew she was an extremely attractive woman, had been something of a trophy wife for the considerably older Mike, however her self-image had taken a blow with the discovery of his infidelity. She wanted to reaffirm herself as sexy and desirable but at the same time was feeling a little antagonistic towards the male of the species - perhaps it was this emotional mix which was driving her behaviour. No doubt there were more effective ways to boost her ego than spending every Friday afternoon 2.30 till 4.30 being lusted over at close quarters by a dozen or so men, better ways to amuse herself than teasing them the way she did, but Miranda couldn't think of any off hand. That the men in question had been (and would remain) incarcerated for years in a high security prison, cooped up without even the sniff of a woman only added to her enjoyment. She knew how sex-starved and frustrated these guys were and she relished playing the lead role in their fevered imaginations. She liked to imagine them locked in their cells at night, stroking themselves, fantasising about their gorgeous and unattainable English teacher, counting the days until the next class, living for these couple of hours even though all she mainly did was drive them crazy ... or rather more than that in the case of poor Billy, her treatment of whom verged on torture! She hadn't started out intending to torment and sexually incite the inmates -- or not consciously anyway. She'd had idealistic notions about how teaching in a prison would help with offender rehabilitation and the like, but then her very first class she'd caught an exchange between two of the prisoners as they were filing out. "Oh fuck. Did you clock that piece of ass?" grunted Roy Lennox. Roy was a lifer (as they mostly were in the Dax), a big brute of a guy in his late twenties. He'd been inside for six years. The guy he was talking to, John Beak, was quite a bit older and had been an inmate for ever. Ditto his twin brother, Jim, who was also in Miranda's class. "I did, Roy, I sure as hell did. Man, I had a hard-on the whole fucking time. What I wouldn't give to nail that! You know what I mean?" Roy sniggered. "How many classes we got with the horny little bitch?" "Least twenny," grinned John. "Jesus Shit, I'm gonna die!" "Yeah, for fuck's sake, hard enough in here without ..." Out of earshot now, so Miranda didn't get to hear any more. Mulling it over later, she felt strangely excited. Week one and they were already thinking like that -- wow. She was there to teach them English, of course, but she couldn't help speculating on what was really going on in their minds during her class! At lunch the next day with Ruth, Miranda fielded questions about how her first day had been. "So it went okay then?" "Yeah, definitely. It was a breeze." Ruth looked surprised. "A breeze? Teaching English to a bunch of hard-ass convicts? Doesn't sound like a breeze to me, Miranda." Miranda smiled. "I think, you know, with me being a woman ..." She took a sip of her wine. "What? That makes em behave better?" asked Ruth. "Kind of." "How d'you mean?" "Well it's not what they're used to, is it?" And Miranda told her friend about the conversation she'd overheard between the two inmates. "Oh my!" exclaimed Ruth. "Yeah, I know! I kinda thought they'd been more looking at me than listening, but I didn't realise it was like that." Ruth grinned. "So not just being a woman, more about you also being incredibly pretty." "Why thank you, Ruthie!" "Almost as gorgeous as me, in fact," grinned Ruth. Miranda laughed and playfully threw a piece of bread in her direction. They'd been firm friends since 18 years old (had met at college) and one reason for this was there was little to choose between them on looks. Ruth was a sultry brunette, Miranda a classic blonde, both of them very attractive. Both knew they were too. They'd had a whale of a time with the boys at college, often double-dating, and they enjoyed reminiscing about all that stuff even now. "It's, um, both those things, I guess," said Miranda, thoughtfully. "These guys haven't gotten laid for years, remember. Gee, Ruth, can you imagine?" Ruth giggled. "Hey you weren't wearing anything too tarty, Mindy, were you?" "Nah. Just my denim mini-skirt and a bikini top. Nothing special." "Miranda!" Miranda pulled her tongue out. Score one. "No but come on, Mindy, seriously." Miranda smiled. "Okay seriously. I was demure as hell. Baggy pants, thick polo neck sweater. Hair back. Sensible shoes." "Jeez, and they still got excited?" "Yeah, well like I say. They've been deprived. Christ knows what effect I'd have if I did wear something a little sexy." "Pandemonium?" Miranda giggled. "At the very least. Wouldn't be fair, though, would it? Poor guys." Ruth was also giggling. "Guess not." She drank the rest of her wine, poured herself and Miranda another glass. "Be pretty mean, in fact," said Miranda. The two women looked at each other, then went back to their pasta and talked about other stuff - 'that bastard Mike' featuring quite strongly. The subject of Miranda's new job didn't crop up again until Ruth (whose turn it was) had settled the bill and they were about finished. "Could be fun though, Mindy, couldn't it?" "What could?" "You know, maybe not looking quite so demure when you're teaching those prisoners of yours." "Thought we agreed it'd be mean to do that?" "Yeah, well, maybe they deserve it. Not exactly angels, are they? Murderers and rapists and all." "Most of them, yeah." "And it sounds like they won't be learning much anyway. Not if all they're gonna do is letch over you." "Mmm. True." "So, exactly. And it'd be a giggle. I mean, just think how you could tease the poor guys. You know, really wind em up! I'd do it if I were you. I'd mess with them big time." Miranda, catching the mischievous expression on her friend's face, smiled and shook her head. "I bet you would as well!" Ruth had always been what they call a 'cock-tease' (Miranda well remembered her torturing all the boys in college!). Miranda enjoyed teasing too -- more than she cared to admit, in fact -- but Ruth was the undisputed mistress of the art and she was warming to her theme. "I would, honey. Come on, it's too good a chance to pass up. Bunch of sex-starved men who can look at you but can't touch. You can drive em nuts without hardly even trying. And if you do try a little bit ... lordy lordy just imagine! It'll be a scream. Plus you can share the fun with me, can't you? Regular update. Deal?" "You're wicked, Ruthie, you know that?" laughed Miranda. "Me?" "Yeah, you." "And what about you? Don't tell me you're 'miss sweet and innocent' all of a sudden. Remember little Pete Rogers? The college geek? Mmm, so now let me think. Who exactly was it who led him on something rotten, got the poor boy to do all her work, gave him nothing in return but blue balls? Was it Ruth Marquez? ... Or was it a certain Miranda Collins?" "Okay okay," giggled Miranda. It was true. She'd really tormented poor Pete. Tormented him rather more than she'd ever let on to Ruth! And why? Well, mainly because she could. A delicious brand of power flows from being one of the prettiest girls in college and the Pete Rogers thing had been about exploring it. Or abusing it, would perhaps be more accurate! "Right," grinned Ruth. "So what do you say?" "Um, it's tempting, yeah. But I dunno." "You're not scared of them losing it and attacking you or something, are you?" "No way. I've been given this little wristband with a buzzer thing. Any problems I just press that and the guards would be there in no time. Plus the guys know if they step out of line even a tiny bit, and I report it, they'll be in deep shit. Probably get solitary and a few more years on the sentence or something. I'm safe as houses." "So there you go. Perfect!" Miranda smiled. "I guess it is. C'mon let's go. I'll think about it, okay?" ** ** ** ** She had thought about it and she ended up deciding Ruth was right. She was clearly having a big effect on the guys, yet they couldn't lay a finger on her (no matter how much they wanted to!). So why not be a bit naughty? Why not have some fun with the situation? Nothing too obvious at first, though. Her second class, Miranda had stuck with the baggy pants / polo neck / sensible shoes combo but this time the sweater was tight and made of thinner material. It left no reasonable doubt in the mind of an observer that she had fabulous breasts. As for the 'observers' she was particularly interested in, well it was very obvious they noticed. More than noticed, in fact! She saw Ruth later that day for an early evening drink and they gossiped for a while about her friend's love life (man dangling on a string, as per usual). "Ruthie, you're terrible!" she giggled, hearing the latest on Simon, the current sap who was spending a fortune taking Ruth to the best restaurants and bars and clubs, showering her with gifts, but who she never quite went to bed with. She'd met him, as she did many wealthy older men, through her interior design business. "Yeah well, you know," Ruth grinned. "I'm sleeping with Mark, aren't I? Can't cheat on him, can I? That'd be slutty." "Does he know about Simon?" asked Miranda, genuinely curious. "Sure." "Really?" "Mmm. So long as all I do with Simon is tease and lead him on, Mark's totally cool with it. Thinks it's funny actually. Poor guy frittering away his money on me and I don't even let him past first base!" Miranda shook her head. Ruth's antics with men never ceased to amaze her. She didn't envy the guy who finally got her down the aisle -- nightmare wife she'd be. Not that there was any sign of this happening. Certainly wouldn't be this Mark, her current beau. 'The Body' as Ruth sometimes referred to him, and that pretty much summed up why she hung out with him. Give it six more months max, Miranda thought. "I'm out with him tonight, as a matter of fact," continued Ruth. "Who? Simon or Mark?" "Simon. He's taking me to that new Italian that's just opened." "Zefferelli's?" "Yep, that's the one. Little black dress, I think. Low cut. Then after he's drooled over my cleavage all evening, he'll be settling a bill in the high hundreds and driving me home. Quick snog in the car, then it's goodnight Simon and Mark'll be in bed waiting for me with a nice big hard-on." Miranda couldn't help laughing. "Marquez, I can't believe you sometimes!" Ruth giggled. "I know. Poor old Simon. I guess I ought to dump him ... I will dump him ... a couple more 'dates' and then I'll probably give him the bad news. There's this ultra-chic and deliciously expensive French restaurant I want to go to first. Plus I sense he's about to shell out for something involving diamonds -- don't want to miss out on that, do I? You know what they say, diamonds are a girl's best friend!" "I just pity his poor wife," said Miranda, remembering Ruth saying once that Simon was married, unwelcome thoughts of Mike's infidelity bubbling up. Ruth went silent and sipped her drink. Miranda sensed the tension her remark had caused. It was an intrusion she was keen to push away - she didn't wholly approve of some of Ruth's behaviour but her friend was great fun and she didn't want to spoil the mood. "Not that it's your fault, Ruthie, he's the cheater. Just saying I pity the guy's wife, that's all" Ruth smirked, back on track. "Yeah, and you'd pity her even more if you saw her. He showed me a photo once. God." "Not a looker, then?" "Let's just say it's deeply unsurprising how much her husband wants to get a hot girl like me into the sack. To give you an idea, can you remember Nancy Miller?" Miranda nodded. Nancy had been a particularly plain and dumpy girl in the same year at college as herself and Ruth. "Well, Simon's wife, she's like Nancy Miller at forty if you can imagine such a thing." "That bad uh?" said Miranda. "Yeah, pretty much." They were interrupted at this point by two young guys coming over and trying to hit on them. Quite dishy, in fact, but Ruth and Miranda sent them packing, preferring to continue their girly gossip. "God, Nancy Miller," said Ruth, after a short silence. "We made her life a misery, didn't we?" "Er ... you did, I think you mean," protested Miranda. "Oh. Was it just me then?" "You know it was. I always felt kind of sorry for the poor thing. Must have been awful looking like that. She got enough grief from the boys, let's face it, and you just made things even worse." "Guess I was pretty mean to her," said Ruth. "Just couldn't help it. You know, with the way she used to trot around after me and stuff. Like I was a goddess or something." "Mmm. But you didn't have to make her actually call you Goddess, Ruthie, did you?" Ruth giggled. "Sure you weren't just jealous, Mindy? That I had my own little slave and you didn't?" "Ruth, just about the whole college knew about that domination thing you had going with Nancy. I mean, sitting there in the common room and making her kiss your feet, stuff like that, with everyone watching. You turned the poor thing into a complete laughing stock." Miranda was laughing too now. It was quite amusing how Ruth had treated the unfortunate Nancy. "I so did, didn't I?" admitted Ruth. "Probably why she left before the final year. Poor Nancy. Bet she hates me even now." "Oh god, Ruthie, do you remember when you put her on that starvation diet?" Ruth chuckled into her dry martini. "Yeah. That was hilarious. Told her she was gross and she'd better stop eating or she'd never get a boyfriend. As if ... with a face like that!" Miranda giggled. "So she stopped ... and then the wretched girl was starving hungry the whole time!" "Didn't get any less fat either, did she?" sniggered Ruth. "Must have been genetic." "Mmm, must have been. And then you and me and some of the others, we used to make the poor thing sit there and watch us eat lunch ... remember, Ruthie?" "I do, honey, I do." "So funny!" "Mmm. So not just me after all when it came to tormenting Nancy Miller was it, Mindy?" "Well like you say, it was pretty hilarious. Couldn't resist joining in." "You more than joined in, Miranda, as I recall. The cake episode?" "Yeah, I remember that." She'd one time, with Ruth looking on and laughing, tantalised Nancy Miller with a massive piece of chocolate cake. It was just after college, sitting around with Nancy in a classroom, and Miranda, knowing the poor girl was famished having not eaten all day, had produced the cake and made a big production out of scoffing it in front of her. She made it last ages, going 'yummy yum, Nance, this is simply delicious, this is just to die for!' etc etc, and getting each piece on a fork and wafting it around under Nancy's nose before popping it slowly and deliberately into her own mouth. Being really really mean, in other words. Poor Nancy had actually started crying. Or kind of drooling and sobbing at the same time -- it was a truly pathetic spectacle and the two women giggled as they remembered. "God, Mindy, I just about wet myself when you made her beg for those tiny crumbs at the end!" "I could be a bitch occasionally, I suppose," said Miranda. "Yep." "Nothing on you though, Ruth, let's be honest. Christ, I remember you used to take Nancy along on dates sometimes. That was sooo cruel!" "No it wasn't," Ruth grinned. "What's cruel about giving her a few demos on how to snog boys? "What was it the boys used to say?" "Going out with Beauty and the Beast," giggled Ruth. "That's it. Poor Nancy!" "All for her own good, Mindy. Just like the diet was." "Yeah, right. You were all heart." Ruth grinned and drank down the last of her martini. "I suppose it's possible it wasn't that great for the poor thing, watching me have all the fun. Hey, don't think I ever told you this but I once had Bobby Driver stay over when my parents were away and ..." "Oh god, Bobby Driver, all the girls at college fancied him! Even I was a bit jealous when you two got together." "Probably why I didn't tell you about him staying the night with me. Didn't want to hack off my best friend, did I?" Girls Can Be Cruel "Like I say, Ruthie, all heart. Anyway, come on, not as if I was short of boy action myself, was it?" "Yeah, like Roger Banks, I remember that one being very into you," said Ruth, chuckling. "Total dream-boat! ... Anyway, as I was saying, Bobby came over this time, absolutely gagging to get into my knickers, and I got Nancy Miller to come too. Just the three of us in our house, me and my horny new boyfriend plus slave-girl Nancy ... Friday night through to Saturday morning ... can you imagine?" "Sounds like someone had a good time," grinned Miranda. "Two of us had a fabulous time, yeah. It was great. We had a ball." "I bet!" "Me and Bobby had the total hots for each other, for one thing, guess you remember that." "I do. Those double dates, me and Roger, you and Bobby ... you two couldn't keep your hands off each other. Used to make me and Rog blush sometimes!" Ruth nodded and laughed. "Right. And having Nancy there too, that just made it even hornier." "What, for Bobby too? Wouldn't he rather Nancy had got lost?" "No, that was the thing. We both really got off on it. On, you know, humiliating the poor girl. Like, I'd made out to Nancy that Bobby was interested in her, that I didn't mind sharing him and stuff, and the stupid cow believed it." "You're kidding!" "Yeah she did. Bobby had been there a few minutes when she turned up and, oh god Mindy, you should have seen her! She'd really dolled herself up, frilly dress, makeup, the works. All ready for action." Miranda had a fit of the giggles. "Oh no! What did Bobby say?" "Well I'd tipped him off, of course, so he plays along -- chats her up a bit, gets her in a hot flush. Then he suddenly switches and starts focusing totally on me. We make Nance sit on this stool and me and Bobby get comfortable, snuggled up on the sofa, all into each other. We flirt and fool around for a while, the two us, and we just ignore Nancy -- pretend she isn't there. Then we watch a movie and I start being a complete bitch, bossing her around like she's a servant, making her do things for us, fix our drinks, fetch us snacks, light our cigarettes, all sorts of stuff." "And don't tell me, Ruth ... she's having to call you Goddess the whole time?" "Empress. And Bobby was the Emperor. Then after the movie, the Emperor and Empress got sexy, started making out." "What, right there on the sofa?" Miranda could barely speak now for laughing. Ruth was such a scream! "Yeah, it was sooo horny. Bobby wanted me bad and I wanted him too." "You went all the way?" "We did, yeah. First time we'd done it properly. Just been second and third base stuff before that night." "But what about Nancy?" "That was the best bit. Poor thing is sat there on her little stool in her little frilly dress, looking utterly ridiculous, just stewing and having to watch." "Ruth, that's so mean!" "It was, wasn't it? So there we are on the sofa, me and this hunky boy, and I've got my fingers inside his boxers, squeezing his hard-on, and he's all over me, kissing me, fondling my tits, caressing me in all the right places, mouth and hands going everywhere. I'm getting the works." "Lucky you!" "Yeah, totally. He's grunting and groaning, calling me 'baby' and saying how beautiful and sexy I am, that I've got a gorgeous body and stuff, and I'm just lapping it up. I'm in heaven." "Poor Nance must have been so jealous!" chuckled Miranda. "Understatement of the decade," Ruth smirked. "She fancied Bobby to pieces. Probably fancied pretty much any boy, let's face it. I keep grinning over at the poor cow -- you know, just to rub it in. Taunting her, telling her how divine it feels making out with a hunk like Bobby Driver. God, Mindy, you should have seen the look on Nance's face when I got Bobby's cock all the way out and started playing with it! Poor girl had never seen one before. Bet she never saw one again either." "Well, maybe pictures," said Miranda. Ruth giggled. "Yeah, I suppose. Not quite the same though, honey, are they, pictures?" "I do prefer the real thing, this is true. That's a pretty funny story. Poor Nancy." "There's more," said Ruth, with a sly grin. "Oh do tell!" "Well I'd realised by now that I could do almost anything to Nancy and she'd just take it." "She was quite pathetic," agreed Miranda. "Yeah, she so was. And the thing is, knowing that, I got a bit sick. Or me and Bobby both did rather." "Sick?" "Yeah, you know. We started being pretty cruel." Miranda laughed. "Started? Not as if you've been too nice to the poor girl so far, is it?" "Okay," giggled Ruth. "But we got downright sadistic, is what I mean." Miranda put on a quizzical expression. "Intriguing!" "Do you wanna hear?" "Ruth, you know I do!" "Right. Well when I've finally finished fucking Bobby, I order Nancy to stand up and strip down to her knickers." "That must have been quite a sight," giggled Miranda. "Yeah, 'yuck' doesn't nearly cover it. Anyway, she's crying her eyes out by now but she does it. Then we put some music on and we make her dance. And while she's lumbering around in front of us like a moose, me and Bobby sit there cuddled up together, laughing like drains and making fun of her. Bobby starts calling her all these horrible names -- Dumpster, Beast, Lardy etc etc -- with me giggling like crazy, egging him on. Then I get up and I start grooving and kind of sexily preening and posing around next to her. I'm also just in my knickers, same as Nancy, except she looks gross and of course I know I'm looking totally fabulous, so it's a great contrast, it really is like ..." "Beauty and the Beast?" said Miranda. "Exactly. I'm being a 24 carat bitch now, making the poor thing feel as bad about herself as possible. Bobby picks up on what I'm doing and he gets into the spirit. He watches us, kind of ogling me and sneering at her at the same time, making it totally obvious what he's thinking, and then he just tells Nancy straight up how ugly she is compared to me - how I'm a ten out of ten hottie and she's a junk-yard dog." "Only a ten, Ruthie? What on earth was the boy thinking?" "Hey, good point," Ruth pouted. "Should have been eleven out of ten at least, the way I was looking that night. And minus eleven for Nancy. God, you should have seen her in just her knickers, Mindy. What a mule!" "The Mule. That was one of her nicknames at college, wasn't it?" Ruth grinned. "Miller the Mule ... Always carrying my books for me." "Your books? And the rest!" "Yeah. Got a bit overloaded sometimes, didn't she?" Miranda giggled, remembering all the stuff that Ruth used to make Nancy Miller lug around. "So anyway ... what happens with the poor thing next?" "Why, Mindy Collins, I do believe you're getting off on my wicked little tale!" said Ruth, flashing a knowing look. "I guess I am," Miranda grinned sheepishly. "Humiliating poor Nance like that. It's so deliciously evil!" "Okay, then you'll love the rest," said Ruth. She looked around the bar before continuing. "Hey those guys over there are really giving us the eye, Mindy." Miranda turned around. Yes, indeed they were. Not surprising, of course -- she and Ruth were very used to being ogled. And the fact they were both wearing rather short skirts this evening did absolutely nothing to discourage it! "They're quite hunky, Mindy, aren't they? Maybe we ought to, you know, think about it." Ruth winked at Miranda as she was saying this, then pouted in the men's direction and uncrossed her legs, before slowly and teasingly crossing them again, skirt sliding a little further up her bare, silky thighs. She lazily stroked a pretend itch just under her hemline. "Stop it Ruth! I don't want them coming over." "Oh really? You sure?" "Yeah, I'm sure. I wanna hear the rest about that night with you and Bobby Driver and Nancy Miller." "Do you?" "Yes, definitely. Chapter and verse on all the terrible things you ended up doing to the poor girl." "I'll tell you next time," said Ruth, eyes twinkling. "Oh come on!" protested Miranda. "That's not fair." "I will, I promise. And yes, it does get pretty terrible." "I hate you, Ruth Marquez!" Ruth giggled. "It's worth waiting for, honey, believe me. But look, enough of this memory lane stuff. How are you getting on, that's what I wanna know?" "What, at the Dax?" asked Miranda, guessing what Ruth was referring to. "Yeah, honey, at the Dax. Your second visit there today, right?" "Yep." "And?" "Well this afternoon's topic was the beat poets. Very interesting lesson." "Sounds fascinating," said Ruth, more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "But what about, you know, the thing we were talking about last time?" "Mmm?" "C'mon, Mindy. Quit fooling around!" "Oh yeah, right. Teasing the guys a little, you mean?" Ruth grinned. "Or a lot. But yeah ... anything to report on that?" Miranda finished her drink. Large vodka on the rocks and it was starting to kick in. "Um, well my sweater was quite popular, I'd say," she giggled. Ruth smiled knowingly. "Really, Miranda? And why was that?" "Dunno. Could have been it was rather err ... clingy this time, I suppose?" "Ah I see. So let me take a wild guess. Your prisoner guys spent two hours staring at the outline of your spectacular tits - am I about correct?" "No you're not about correct, Ruthie." "Oh." Ruth sounded a little disappointed. "You're completely and 100% correct," said Miranda. Ruth smirked, then cracked a smile. "What did I tell you? And you enjoyed it, right? Come on, Mindy, be honest." "I have to admit it, Ruthie, I really did, yeah." "Think we can make a stab at what those poor bastards are thinking about in their cells right now, can't we?" said Ruth, highly amused. Miranda grinned and went to get more drinks. Lying in bed that night, Miranda stroked herself to orgasm thinking about how her second class had panned out. Because she hadn't been lying to her friend, she had very much enjoyed the impact of her tight sweater on the men ... how they'd stared so longingly in the direction of her large breasts. The experience had turned her on enormously and she could feel her sexuality, depressed somewhat in the aftermath of her failed marriage, flooding back. She wasn't yet ready to get involved with another man, so why not use this to get her kicks? Make those prisoners drool! The prospect of teasing them out of their skulls excited her as much as anything she could remember. Yeah, I'll torture the poor, sex-starved things! Just like Ruthie would and maybe worse. She smiled as she drifted off to sleep. ** ** ** ** The next time at the Dax, Miranda's pants were not baggy - far from it! -- and her sweater was even tighter. The sensible shoes became open-toe, heeled sandals. Her hair was down, her makeup was carefully done, fingers and toes painted red to match her lipstick, and she wore perfume. It had the desired effect. The guys were in a spin pretty much the whole lesson! Week four, the sweater had morphed into a tee-shirt and Miranda wore it with no bra. Her breasts pushed and strained and jiggled against the thin material, nipples plainly visible. Whenever she raised her arms, her tee-shirt slid up and the prisoners were tantalised by several inches of smooth, lightly tanned torso. They got to see it from all angles -- her belly every time she stretched in her seat, her lower back gently curving into the beginnings of her ass when she reached to write on the blackboard. The reactions of the men left Miranda in little doubt that she was starting to drive them insane! "So, yeah, I was definitely kinda flaunting it," she said. She and Ruth had been shopping and were having coffee. Her friend was playing with a spoon, clearly amused. "You can say that again, Miranda! No bra!" she joshed. "Well, you know," giggled Miranda. "Becoming quite the tease, Mindy Collins, aren't you? And to think just a couple of weeks ago I was having to talk you into it!" "It's just it's, you know, very erotic. The thought of them all locked up in there obsessing over me." "While you're free as a bird!" "Mmm, exactly. I've got all the power. It's reminding me a bit of what I did to Pete Rogers." "What, how you blue-balled him?" "Yes, but more than that. The power trip is what I mean. Pete was a pretty hapless character, if you recall, wasn't he?" "Yeah, he was" sniggered Ruth. "Totally pathetic." "Right so that's the thing, I had this total power over him the whole time. Just like with these guys at the prison. Different scenario, of course, but kind of the same. You know what I mean, Ruthie?" "Sure. It's fun to exploit power. Me with Nancy Miller, for example. All that." "Ah yes, thanks for reminding me! A story you owe me the rest of." Ruth grinned. "So I do. But look, Mindy, I definitely do know what you mean about the power thing, but you weren't that terrible with Pete Rogers. All you did was lead the poor boy on a bit." Miranda sipped her coffee, shot her friend a sly smile. "Er well yes. But I did more than just that. It was quite a bit worse, what I did. Specially one particular time." Ruth arched her eyebrows, looked interested. "Pray tell!" "You first, Ruthie. You promised you'd finish that Nancy Miller, Bobby Driver story." "Okay ... so where were we?" "You and Nance were both dancing around half naked in front of Bobby, and he was telling her ..." "How gruesome she is and how fabulously hot I am?" grinned Ruth. "Right. And what happens after that?" "Well me and Bobby have already made out on the sofa, of course, but now we're feeling horny again. It's getting late. We want to go to bed for another fuck and then go to sleep. My parents are not back till the next day, remember, so we've got the whole night." "But Nancy's still there, right?" said Miranda. "Yeah, she is. She's a mess by now, poor thing is bawling her eyes out! She's pleading, desperate to get dressed and go home, but we don't let her do either. We think about it but we decide it's more fun to keep her around. She's like our little toy and we want to carry on playing with her." "Oh god, so what did you do to her next?" "You really wanna know?" "I do, yeah." It was true. Miranda was fascinated. "Okay, first thing is I tell her to get naked. Then I pick her knickers up and I put them on her head. I re-join Bobby on the sofa and we make her stand there in front of us, like, totally on display. 'Oh yuck! You really are fucking ugly, Nance, aren't you?' goes Bobby and we make her nod and repeat everything we say. 'Yes, Emperor Bobby, I'm fat and ugly and horrible.' ... 'Yes, Empress Ruth, I make a pig look devastatingly attractive' ... Unbelievable!" "What, she actually says all that?" "Like I said before, we can make her do anything. That's why we get a bit carried away, I guess. I order her to keep her hands behind her back ... no covering up ... so we're talking zero dignity here. She looks utterly ridiculous, stood there butt naked with these knickers on her head. Poor girl wants the floor to open up and swallow her! Me and Bobby are just wetting ourselves." "It does sound funny, I must admit!" giggled Miranda. "It was, honey. It was a scream. We're having a ball, Bobby and I. We're totally humiliating this girl and we're loving every minute of it. Bobby gets hold of our shoes and he throws them one at a time at Nancy. She can't defend herself, with having to keep her hands behind her back, and these shoes hit her all over, one of them right in the face." Miranda winced. "Yeah, I know. Ouch! Then Bobby jumps up, makes her bend over and he starts smacking her fat ass. 'Yeah baby, harder!' I'm giggling, enjoying the spectacle. Bobby grins at me and puts more force into it, gives her backside a real thrashing. Nancy's yelping out the whole time, begging him to stop, but Bobby just keeps on slapping her. Poor thing's ass is red-raw by the time he's finished! And she gets no time to recover because the next thing is I decide that she's a cow and we make her get down on all fours and crawl around the floor making these 'moo moo' noises, munching away at the carpet like it's grass." "Oh Ruth, you didn't!" "Honestly, we did. And she makes a good cow too, moo-mooing around on her hands and knees, saggy tits hanging down and stuff." "Ruthie, that's terrible!" "It so was, wasn't it? Can't believe we did it. And it gets worse." "Worse? You're kidding!" "It does," said Ruth. She had the giggles again and was struggling to continue. Miranda drank more coffee and waited for her friend to compose herself. Ruth did finally pull herself together and she leant forward to continue the conversation. Straight face now, but it was clearly a major effort. "Bobby gets this idea. 'Watch this, baby!' he grins at me and he goes over to where Nance is making like a cow, and he starts milking her!" "Noooo!" Miranda spluttered, coffee spraying onto the table. "You okay there, Mindy?" grinned Ruth. Both women were giggling like crazy now. "Oh my god, Ruth. Hilarious!" "Isn't it just? He gets down and starts messing with her tits, squeezing away and pretending that all this milk was coming out. He really gets into it, Bobby does. It's like she actually is a cow. God, Mindy, you should have seen it! I cracked up, I really did." "Gross!" "'How about giving my boobs some attention, baby?' I pout at Bobby, after a while, and he comes back over and he fondles and caresses my tits. 'Mmmmm ... this is sooo lovely what Bobby's doing to my tits, Nance!' I grin, taunting her. 'Bet you wish you were a girl rather than a cow, don't you?' She's sobbing her heart out, poor thing." "Poor poor Nancy." "And now I get another idea. I'm playing around in Bobby's shorts, enjoying the feel of his massive erection in my fingers, and I whisper for him to take the shorts off, so he's totally naked, and to go stand next to Nancy. He does that -- looking lush, he is! -- and I tell Nance she can stop being a cow, tell her she can go back to being an ugly-as-sin girl who's never been kissed by a boy and never will be." "That was kind of you, Ruthie." "Well I'm a nice person really," said Ruth, smirking. "Then what I do is I make her go down on her knees in front of my naked hunky boyfriend and ..." "The Emperor, don't you mean?" "Yeah, you got it ... the Emperor ... and I make her worship him. She has to tell Bobby how much she adores him, how he's incredibly handsome, how his hunky body drives her mad with desire. Bobby stands there grinning and lapping it all up. He preens around, giving her a good close-up from all angles, and all the time I'm taunting her. 'Do you like the look of him, Nance? Yummy, isn't he? I'm taking him to bed soon and he'll be making love to me all night long. Aren't I the lucky one? Can you imagine it, Nancy? Can you imagine all the divine things Bobby's gonna do to me in bed? Mmmm, I bet you can! Aw poor Nancy. Hot girls have all the fun, don't they?'" "Gee Ruth, talk about rubbing the poor girl's nose in it!" "Yep, that's precisely what I'm doing. I'm being a class A bitch. With how she's kneeling, Bobby's crotch is level with her face and he's kind of slapping her cheeks around with his erection. Then he shoves it under her nose. 'Sniff it, Nance,' I say. 'Sniff my boyfriend's lovely big dick. Tell him what a great cock he has. Tell him how much you'd love to feel it inside you. Or maybe just to kiss it even.' She does that and, god Mindy, it's so funny! I can't stop giggling! Then I get her to crawl over to where I'm sitting, and I make her grovel at my feet and beg ... beg to be allowed to kiss my boyfriend's dick." "And does she get to do that?" "What, kiss Bobby's dick?" "Mmm." Girls Can Be Cruel "Well, almost." "Almost? How do you mean, Ruthie?" "She does get to kiss something, yes. But not his dick. I make her kiss his ass instead." "Ruthie!" "Yeah, she kisses his ass and just as she's doing it, Bobby lets go with this massive fart. Oh god! Can you believe that?" Miranda shook her head. She was crying with laughter. Whatever next? That was pretty much it, as it turned out. They'd locked Nancy in the downstairs closet and gone up to bed. In the morning, after a lot of fucking and not quite so much sleeping, they'd let her out and finally said she could go home. "Did you guys not feel bad about it later?" asked Miranda. "Bobby didn't, no, but I did a bit," admitted Ruth. "Poor Nancy. She left college pretty soon after, I remember, and I think that night had a lot to do with it. Still, I enjoy being a bitch sometimes, you know that. What can I do? It's the way I am." "Guess so." "And you too, Miranda, let's be honest." "Yeah, true enough." "Which reminds me ... Pete Rogers and what you did to him once?" Miranda giggled. "Ah yes! So, right, well I knew that poor Pete was mega desperate to make out with me, of course, and ..." "Shit, hang on," interrupted Ruth, looking at her watch. "Sorry, honey, I really do wanna hear this but I have to go." "Oh." Miranda felt disappointed. Hearing Ruth's story had put her bang in the mood to tell her own one. It wasn't as evil, nothing like, but it was pretty mean what she'd done to Pete Rogers that time. Ruth would be amused, she was sure, and she was keen to tell her. "Yeah, must get back. Hadn't realised the time! Got my mother coming round. Next time eh?" "Sure," smiled Miranda. "Great." The two women left the coffee shop and said their goodbyes outside. "Hey and Mindy, keep up the good work at the prison!" giggled Ruth, winking at Miranda before turning and walking off towards her car. ** ** ** ** Miranda did 'keep up the good work'. The following week she went with high heels, knee-length pencil skirt and a 'carelessly' buttoned silk blouse (worn over a tiny lace bra). It was an outfit to drive any man wild, let alone a bunch of sex-starved prisoners. It also heralded the first (and to date only) use of her 'emergency buzzer'. At the start of the lesson she circulated some notes. As she was handing out the material, there was no need whatsoever for Miranda to lean forward in front of each prisoner in turn and torment him with a lingering view of luscious breasts nestled in a little lacy bra ... nevertheless this is pretty much exactly what she did. In the process she noticed how one guy seemed especially agonised by her teasing (all of them were affected, of course, but this one was clearly suffering the most). The men sat at desks in four rows of three, spaced well apart, meaning Miranda could wander around amongst them when the mood took her. Later in the lesson she was doing that, strolling up and down the rows as she taught, and she decided to torture the poor guy from earlier. So she kind of 'rested' herself on this particular prisoner's desk while continuing to talk to the class, and she started continually crossing and uncrossing her legs ... sexy skirt sliding up a little more each time ... flaunting her fabulous legs just inches from this guy's face. A few minutes of this and the poor man was a total mess. He was sweating buckets and visibly trembling with lust and frustration! Miranda, knowing precisely what she was doing, carried on taunting him with her close-up leg show until finally, driven beyond the point of sanity, the guy could bear it no longer and he snapped. He let out a loud groan and reached out to fondle Miranda's thighs, tried to slide his hand up her skirt. A gross breach of the rules, of course, and she immediately leapt off the desk and hit the buzzer on her wrist. Seconds later, the poor guy was being held by three burly prison guards while Miranda slapped him around the face. Then he was hauled off to a fate which didn't bear thinking about. "Now that's what happens when you boys don't behave yourselves," she'd grinned, when the fuss had died down. "So you're down to eleven now," said Ruth, as they were talking about it in a bar a few days later. "Yeah. The guy won't be back, that's for sure." "Better be careful, Mindy. You'll end up with no-one to teach at this rate!" "Well thing is, Ruth, I don't think there's a chance of that because the other guys can see what happens now if they get out of line. All it's done is make the situation even better for me. I mean, god, I really can tease them out of their tiny minds now, can't I? ... If I want to." "And do you want to, Mindy?" grinned Ruth. "Do you want to tease them out of their tiny minds?" "Great question, Ruthie. Let's just say I have a funny feeling my skirt might be a teeny bit shorter next week ... you know what I mean?" "Mmm, I like it, honey, I like it. Short skirt with legs like yours. That'll have em totally slobbering!" "I'm getting pretty terrible, aren't I?" Miranda giggled. "Torturing the poor things like this!" "You are, Mindy. You're a really terrible girl." "So ... speaking of how terrible I am ... should I tell you about what I did to Pete Rogers?" "Sure! But let's get the drinks in first," said Ruth, looking at their empty glasses. "Another vodka rocks, right?" Miranda nodded and Ruth went off to do the honours. Couple of minutes later she was pouting seductively and cat-walking back across the bar in her sexy little red dress, drinks in hand, with just about every man in the place mentally undressing her. Miranda watched and chuckled as her friend put on an exaggerated ass-sway and hip-wiggle for the benefit of the drooling guys. God, Ruthie was such a cock-tease! They'd already had to fight off a ton of men this evening. "Okay, honey, I'm all ears," said Ruth, sitting down and sipping at her fresh martini. It was their third round of drinks and both women were getting slightly tipsy. "So, yeah, Pete was at my house one evening after college and he was doing my geography coursework for me and ..." "Well what a surprise," drawled Ruth. "Mmm. Usual thing. But different this time 'cos I said we should do it in my bedroom." "Do it, Mindy? Do what?" Miranda giggled. "My geography coursework, of course!" "Ah, right." "Although the way I said it to him, 'Pete, should we do it up in my room today?' ... licking my lips and being quite sexy and flirty ... he figures we might be making out or something." "Pete Rogers making out? Wouldn't have known what to do, honey, would he? Wasn't exactly the college Casanova, as I recall." "Not really, no," smirked Miranda. "Geek of the century. So, okay yeah, I guess actually making out with a girl like me was probably beyond his wildest dreams, but he's definitely thinking I have something like that in mind. Maybe he'd get to finally snog me. Fool around a little even. Any case, the point is he thinks something good's gonna happen and that's precisely what I want him to think. "Raising the poor boy's hopes were you, Mindy?" "Exactly. I knew he fancied me like crazy, and plus he'd never had a girlfriend, and I decided it'd be fun to, you know, toy around with him." "So you took him up to your bedroom?" "Yeah, and just that was enough to get him worked up! It was the first time I'd invited him up there. And the only time as it turns out. I'm wearing this skimpy little shorts and halter top combination, showing loads of flesh, and I make a point of wiggling my sexy butt as I lead the way up the stairs. I turn around once and I catch him with his eyes glued to my ass and his tongue hanging out. He's on fire!" "Bet he's thinking his lucky number's come up," Ruth chuckled. "Definitely! So anyway, I sit him at my study table with the geography books and pen and paper and all, and this table has a big mirror. The set-up means that he's facing away from the bed but he can see it ..." "See your bed?" Mindy giggled and took a sip of her vodka. "Yes, Ruthie, my bed. The bed that I stretch out and get comfortable on while he tries to concentrate on my coursework. It's perfect for what I want to do." "Which is what, Mindy?" asked Ruth. From how she was grinning it was clear she had a fair idea. "C'mon Ruth, what do you think?" "Miranda Collins is planning to tease poor little Pete Rogers' rocks off. That's what I think, Mindy." "Gee, Ruthie, are you psychic? Guess you must be 'cos you're totally spot on! 'Okay Pete, don't mind me,' I tell him and he has to sit there grappling with my coursework while I'm relaxing on the bed in his full mirror view. I prop myself up with a couple of pillows and pretend to read a magazine, but what I'm really doing is enjoying Pete's reactions in the mirror as he struggles to do my geography rather than what he really wants to do ... which is look at me lying on the bed in my little shorts and my little halter top. I see he keeps ogling and so I start being wicked. 'C'mon Pete, hurry up, I want some attention over here,' I pout in this sexy little-girl voice and I stretch out and I slowly slide my top up over my tits, start writhing around on the bed." "Mindy, I love it!" Miranda chuckled. "He really thinks I wanna make out with him now, Pete does, and he jumps up and starts over towards the bed. I can see from the bulge in his pants that he's got a major hard-on. 'Don't think you've finished, though, have you?" I grin. 'Um, no,' he says. 'Well then,' I say, pointing back to his seat. Poor boy is absolutely panting for me but I make him go back and continue with my coursework! He sits down again and now he's mega desperate to get this stuff finished 'cos he thinks he'll be getting busy with me pretty much straight after. And what I do is I make it just completely impossible for him to work and not look at me. I take my top all the way off and I slip my shorts off too, so I'm lying there just in my knickers and I start carrying on like a porn star. I kneel up and I fondle my tits, start stroking myself all over, I slowly run my fingers down my belly and then inside my knickers. 'Oh god I want you, Pete!' I'm moaning, 'I want you so much, Pete baby ... just as soon as you've done my geography coursework.'" Ruth was choking into her martini. "Oh jesus, that's hilarious! And he can't finish it 'cos he can't stop drooling over you in the mirror, right?" "That's the beauty of it! The fact I look and sound like I'm all ready for him, it teases him so bad that he can't concentrate and so he can't get to have me ... even though I look and sound like I'm all ready for him. Fiendish or what? Oh god, Ruthie, you should have seen the poor boy. Talk about suffering!" "That is a great story, Mindy. Amazed you haven't told me before. So how did it end up?" "Ended with me pretending to lose patience with him and kicking him out, saying no hard feelings Pete but maybe we shouldn't do this any more. Poor thing could hardly walk when he left, his balls were so blue!" Ruth laughed. "Speaking of blue balls, I wonder how those poor prisoners of yours are doing in that department? Not too well is what I'm guessing!" Miranda just smiled and finished her vodka. "Hey, another?" "Sure, why not?" "Then let's mess about with some of the dishy guys in here, Ruthie, shall we?" "Now that's what I call a plan," grinned Ruth. ** ** ** ** About week eight or nine, Miranda unveiled a skimpier-than-ever top (a tee-shirt with oceans of cleavage, cropped above the belly button) and she wore it with a pair of low-slung, figure-hugging blue jeans. The jeans sat way down on her bikini line, more than a hint of peachy ass on display and you'd be able to make out the upper traces of her pussy hair at the front if she hadn't been sure to shave down there. Miranda, as always, had checked herself carefully in the mirror before leaving home and knew exactly how much she was showing! As she walked in that day, there was an audible moan from one of the guys (Jim Beak, she thought, or maybe his brother) and all of them stared at her like animals on heat. Miranda sashayed to her desk, taking her time, wiggling her hips, basking in their lust, no longer even bothering to pretend that she didn't realise what she was doing. She sat herself down and surveyed the scene. Eleven male faces, each of them etched with acute and painful sexual longing. It was heavenly to know she was the cause of it! Miranda also felt utterly in control. She owned these men. They were hers to toy with, to tease and manipulate as she pleased. She knew it and they knew it. The sense of power was thrilling and this was the day she started to use and abuse it as never before. Miranda was aware she was turning into a cruel bitch -- becoming even worse than Ruth in many ways - but she was enjoying the whole thing far too much to stop. On the contrary, she'd decided to really ramp it up today! "Afternoon, boys," she greeted them. "Afternoon, Miss Collins." "Hey look guys, how about we drop the Miss Collins business? It's Miranda from now on, okay?" she said, tossing her hair, smiling sweetly at them. Nods all round. A few grins too -- a particularly wolfish one from Roy Lennox, she noticed. Roy sat in the middle of the front row. "A girl ought to be on first name terms with the men in her life, shouldn't she?" Miranda giggled. She looked over at the smallish guy sitting on the front row to Roy's right. "Hi there, Billy!" she pouted. He coughed and looked embarrassed. Billy Connors was a baby-faced and rather nerdy type in his mid-thirties who she'd noticed pretty much from the first lesson that the others (and especially Lennox and the Beak brothers) treated with contempt. On chatting with the guards, she'd discovered that Billy had a grim time at the Dax. Christ, some of the things they told her happened to the poor wretch after lights out! He got bullied here in class too. Least verbally. Miranda had tried to stop this, at first, but the jibes were quite amusing and now she not only allowed Roy and the others to pick on little Billy Connors, she actively encouraged it, even joined in occasionally. Miranda stared at Billy, an evil grin on her lovely face. "You'd like to call me Miranda, Billy, wouldn't you?" "Um, yes," mumbled Billy, fidgeting a little in his seat. Miranda continued to gaze steadily at him, enjoying his obvious discomfort. She really did feel wicked this afternoon! Maybe she'd just forget the lesson for a while (the anti-war literature of the sixties and seventies it was meant to be) and spend some time persecuting Billy instead. She could do whatever she wanted in here. The guards would only come in if she used her buzzer and there were no cameras. And if Billy complained about her capricious cruelty? Well it'd be his word against her and all the other guys, wouldn't it? "Yes what, Billy?" she prodded. "Yes, Miranda." "Good. So you would like to call me Miranda then." He nodded. "Well you can't. It's still Miss Collins to you," she snapped. The jeers from the others made Billy's face start to redden. Miranda waggled her finger at him. "Come here, Billy." Billy got up and shuffled over to Miranda's desk at the front. He had an obvious bulge in his pants -- the effect of Miranda's scanty outfit. "Hey, Miranda, looks like Billy Boy's got a boner!" sniggered Roy Lennox. "I do believe you're right, Roy," she giggled at the prisoner she'd started to treat with a certain favouritism. Maybe because she rather fancied him; he was very attractive in a kind of Neanderthal, brutish way! "And call me Mindy, if you want ... Just you, Roy, I mean." Roy grinned. "Sure, Mindy. My pleasure. And yeah I am right. Billy Boy's got a hard-on, no question." Miranda knew they all did, of course, but it was big fun to pick on poor Billy, humiliate him in front of the others. The guys were grinning, sensing some serious sport with Billy today. They'd noticed how Miranda had started picking on Billy Connors the last couple of lessons, kind of egging them on in their bullying, sometimes pitching in, and they were hoping for plenty more of it. Her increasingly cruel victimisation of Billy somehow made the others feel less like victims themselves, meant her teasing was a little easier to bear. "So why have you got a hard-on, Billy?" she taunted. "Umm, I d-d-d-dunno, Miss Collins." "You umm d-d-d-dunno?" mocked Miranda. The mortified Billy said nothing, just looked at the floor. "Well I think I know, Billy," she chuckled. "What do you guys think?" she said, grinning at the class. "Why do we reckon Billy here's got a hard-on? Put your hand up if you think you know." A sea of hands. "Okay, you Jim," she said, looking at Jim Beak. "What do you reckon?" "It's because the dirty little bastard's been giving you the eye, Miranda," he grinned. "You know, checking you out." "What and you haven't, Jim?" she pouted. Jim shrugged, still grinning. "Roy?" asked Miranda. "Think it's safe to say we all have the hots for you, Mindy baby," leered Roy. "Why Roy, honey!" giggled Miranda. "But we're not nasty little pervs like Billy Boy, are we?" he smirked. "You know I like it that you boys get turned on by me," said Miranda, winking at them. "Just with Billy ... well it's different. I'd kinda rather he didn't. In fact, what say we punish him for having a hard-on?" "Yeah, punish him!" they yelled. Miranda gazed at Billy for a moment or two, savouring his fear. "Turn round and face the class," she ordered. She got up from her seat and stood next to him. "So, how about we take a look at this hard-on?" she snickered. The guys guffawed their agreement. "Drop your trousers for me, Billy," she told him. "Let's see what you've got going on down there." "Please Miss Collins," he muttered, shaking his head. "Do it, Billy!" she snapped. "Trousers round your ankles." Billy had to obey. He unhooked his prison issue trousers and slid them to his feet, the others looking on and jeering. "And your pants," said Miranda. "I wanna see your dick." Billy stood there now with his cock on full display. It wasn't big but Miranda was amused how it was still semi-hard despite the humiliation. "Gee, it is small, isn't it?" she smirked, to the amusement of the room. "Bet all of you guys have got bigger dicks than this, am I right?" Miranda was looking at the sniggering Roy Lennox as she said this. "Much bigger, Mindy," he chuckled. "So it would appear, honey," she laughed, noticing how Roy had opened his pants and was fingering his cock. Miranda pouted and licked her lips suggestively, let him know she liked what she was seeing. It gave her an idea too. A rather evil idea! "Hey c'mon, the rest of you guys too," she grinned. "New rule around here. Everyone but Billy is allowed to play with themselves. No cumming though, please ... not unless I say you can, okay?" The guys cheered and nodded, unable to believe their luck. This was so much better than the usual gig of having to sit there for two hours with a raging unrelieved hard-on while Miranda teased them to high heaven! As for no cumming until she gave permission, well fine. The norm was having to wait until they were back in the cells to do it -- all of them thinking about this gorgeous, cock-teasing bitch of a teacher, how she'd looked that day, picturing themselves pumping her naked body, in many cases Billy's mouth and asshole serving as a practical substitute. Not the same, far from it, but with eyes closed and pretending it was Miranda ... well you take what you can get, don't you? Soon all ten of them were 'cocks out' and playing with themselves, everyone turned on by this combination of Miranda Collins looking red-hot in her tight jeans and skimpy tee-shirt and her humiliation of poor Billy Connors. Girls Can Be Cruel "Put your hands behind your back, Billy, and go stand in the corner," she instructed. He did so, shuffled over there with his pants still round his ankles. "And face the room, we wanna see your little prick at all times!" Miranda looked at the other prisoners. "Okay, here's what I'm thinking. From now on, every lesson, Billy will be stood in that corner with his pants down. Is this alright with you guys?" She could tell from their gleeful expressions that it was. "Good," she grinned. "And I'm gonna have a little fun with him now and again during class. Torment his dick, stuff like that. And while I'm doing it, the rest of you can just relax and enjoy the show. You know, play with yourselves if you want and watch me. You do like watching me, boys, don't you?" "Mindy babe, we live for it," leered Roy Lennox, telling her precisely nothing she didn't already know. "But absolutely no cumming until the last hour," said Miranda, with a sly look on her face. "Wanna know what happens then?" They very much did. "Okay, so when the clock hits three thirty, we decide which two of you have a nice orgasm here in class. Or I decide, rather. You'll all be revved up from watching me ... especially seeing me totally cock-tease little Billy over there ... and it'll be up to me who gets to finish the lesson with a bang." "You gonna ... err ... help us out with that, Miranda?" asked John Beak. "Sort of, John, yes. Thing is, I'm gonna let the two lucky guys feel my tits while they fuck Billy in the mouth. Take turns. How does that sound?" "Oh yeah, baby! Sounds fucking great!" yelled Roy Lennox. "Can't wait!" Miranda giggled coquettishly. "And you won't have to wait long, Roy sugar. Because one of the guys this week is definitely gonna be you!" "I love you, baby, you know that?" Roy cackled. The cat with the cream. "This week and every week, in fact," added Miranda, causing Roy's grin to go off the scale. "Yeah so sorry, boys, but Roy is always gonna be one of the lucky pair. Then one of you other nine guys, depending who I choose. Rest of you stay in your seats and watch. I'll choose a different one each week, okay? Try and give everyone a go at some point." They looked happy enough. Wasn't such a terrible deal, let's face it ... except for Billy Connors, of course. Miranda grinned over at him. "You got all that, Billy? Just nod if you have." Billy nodded. He looked sick. "Okay, so ... the quintessential anti-war novel, what are the key ingredients?" said Miranda, finally beginning the lesson. A hand shot up. Roy Lennox. "Mindy, I was just thinking ... that tee-shirt you're almost wearing." "What about it?" grinned Miranda. "Well you might as well take it off," he leered. "You know, a little treat for the boys?" Miranda shot him a flirty look. "Oh really? Do you think I should?" "Yeah, baby, most definitely. Wanna see what I'm going to be handling a bit later." "What do the rest of you boys think?" asked Miranda, playing along. "Do you wanna see my tits?" They clearly did. "What, even though only one of you will be getting to touch them today?" she said. "Sure that isn't a little unfair on the others?" They didn't seem to think so. "Mmm, okay. So ask me nicely then. All together now, say 'please Miranda, please take your shirt off, we wanna see your luscious tits.'" "Please Miranda, please take your shirt off! We wanna see your luscious tits!" they chanted. "Okay! ... but then we concentrate on the lesson." Giggling, she pulled her tee-shirt up and over her head, tossed it onto her desk. The look in the men's eyes as her large and perfect breasts were fully revealed was something to behold! So Miranda proceeded to deliver the lesson topless. For the next hour or so, she imparted more or less all she knew on the anti-war literature of the sixties and seventies, knowing full well that the guys were taking in the sum total of nothing. All they did was salivate over the enticing view and play with themselves. A kind of self-torture, really, since they weren't allowed to jerk all the way off, had to keep themselves on the edge and hope against hope they were today's chosen one, along with Roy Lennox. Roy was the only guy there who looked halfway relaxed. He even managed to keep his hands off his cock most of the time. There was jealousy in the room, no doubt about that, but it was tempered by the fact that the person getting really tortured by Miranda was Billy Connors. Every few minutes she would pause the lesson and wander over to torment him. She teased him without mercy! She continually tickled his cock and his balls ... stroked him until he was bucking his hips and on the very verge of exploding ... then stopped, pulled her hand away. It was something she remembered Ruth telling her one time she'd had a lot of fun doing to various unfortunate horny boys at college. Well, just wait till Ruthie heard about this! She'd crack up! Miranda did the cruel tease over and over until Billy was sobbing with frustration. She made him beg and plead for her to either stop or finish him off, but she did neither, just kept on tantalising his cock, the other guys looking on and laughing and making fun of him the whole time. "Would you boys like to see Billy kiss my ass?" she grinned at one point, which drew a very enthusiastic response from the room. Miranda slipped her jeans and knickers down over her buttocks and presented her ass to Billy. "Kneel down and kiss it, Billy. Worship my sexy ass," she giggled. With Billy on his knees behind her and kissing her ass, Miranda resumed teaching, taking the class of guffawing prisoners through Heller's 'Catch 22' as an example of the use of satire to make a political statement. After a while, she checked her watch and broke away. "Hey, wait a minute!" she said, pulling her jeans back up. It was nearly three thirty. Miranda hummed and hah'ed for a couple of minutes, enjoying the suspense in the room, before announcing her decision. She chose an ecstatic Jim Beak to join Roy Lennox for the 'party' and the two of them left their seats and swaggered over to join her and Billy. Both men had their cocks out and were rock-hard. Miranda moved directly behind Billy, placed her hands on his head and pushed her tits out invitingly. "Okay, who's first?" she pouted. Roy stepped forward. "Gotta be me, Mindy!" he grunted, and he stood in front of the kneeling Billy. The position meant he could thrust his dick into Billy's mouth and at the same time fondle Miranda. Perfect, in other words. "Just gonna have to wait your turn, Jimbo," he grinned. Miranda smiled at Jim Beak. "You okay to go second, hun? Don't worry, we've got loads of time." "Sure, Miranda," said Jim, shifting to where he'd get the best view. The other prisoners, still seated, were craning their necks to do the same. "Open wide, Billy Boy!" Roy snarled. Poor Billy was too traumatised to resist. He got fucked and abused by Roy Lennox and Jim Beak (amongst others) on a regular basis in the cells and now it was happening here too. There was nothing he could do about it. Roy's cruelly handsome face was flushed with anticipation. This was gonna be sooo much hotter than his usual thing with Billy, he thought, eying up Miranda's bazookas. "You got his head, baby?" he grinned at her. "Yeah, I got it," she grinned back and she tightened her grip. "Okay, sugar, you just enjoy yourself," she pouted at Roy. "Play with my tits and fuck his mouth, baby!" "Oh yeah!" groaned Roy, reaching for Miranda's tits and ramming his cock into Billy's mouth. "And make sure he swallows every drop," she giggled. "Don't want a mess in my classroom." Miranda had one problem with what followed, one which only intensified over the next weeks as each class ended this same way. It was great having her breasts fondled as she watched Billy suffer, and the up-close-and-personal view of a fully erect cock (Roy's, in particular!) ramming in and out of Billy's mouth before exploding inside it, this turned her on no end ... she loved it! ... however it also served to remind her how much she missed sex. Or how much she needed to be properly fucked by a man, rather. She finally discussed the 'problem' with Ruth -- "God I need a fuck, Ruthie!" -- and the two of them spent a very enjoyable evening working up a plan. A deliciously kinky plan!