Mack Tavish

Student_s Bedroom Demonstration

Chapter 1

"Beautiful, huh, Miss Avalon?"

Sally Avalon looked up from the display ease of rare coins with words of polite agreement on her lips – words which died unspoken when she discovered that Willy Jessel's pale blue eyes were focused not on the exhibit in front of him, but on the generous mounds of her sweater-covered breasts.

Willy was a troublemaker. A disruptive influence. She wasn't at all clear as to why he stayed on at school past the minimum required age. Certainly he was by no means a good student, and spent most of his time, in her classes anyway, staring at the ceiling or murmuring wisecracks – or fixing her with an unblinking gaze while patently paying no mind to what she was saying.

Now his eyes met hers insolently, then they flickered away over the coins.

"That right, Miss Avalon – worth a whole million?" he asked. "That's what the guys say."

"I believe so," she responded, tight-lipped, and started to walk away.

He was at her side.

"Uh – Miss Avalon…"

"Yes?"

"I – uh – seem to be having some kinda trouble with that last assignment – you guess I could talk to you about it? I can't seem to – uh -"

"Well?" she asked mistrustfully.

"Uh – could we go back to the classroom so I can show where I seem to – uh – "

Duty struggled with inclination, and won.

"Well, I suppose so," she conceded. "Just for a few minutes, though – I have an appointment very soon."

"Oh, sure, Miss Avalon," he reassured her eagerly. "It won't take that long. It's just a… uh…"

They left the assembly hall, Sally nodding politely to the guard who stood by the doorway watching over the extremely valuable display of rare coins and stamps that Peter had lent to enhance the hobbies and handcraft exhibition. She couldn't smother a tiny private smile at the thought of Peter's impetuous, tender marriage proposal last night, his strong hands tilting her face up to his to kiss her soft, wide mouth while he stroked the silky tresses of her shoulder-length blonde hair. Dear Peter!

She had been thinking about it every spare moment since. Or not so much thinking about it as unable to keep it away from her mind. Peter was so handsome, so capable and intelligent. She knew that he was a notorious seducer of willing women – yet when she had been true to the principles of her rather rigid upbringing, instead of breaking off the relationship, he had asked her to marry him. Moreover, he claimed that he was delighted by the idea of having a bride who had never slept with any other man – who would still be a virgin on the night of their wedding.

Her happiness was slightly clouded just now, though, by the hulking presence of Willy beside her. His big, muscular, eighteen-year-old body seemed just a little too close, radiating a kind of animalistic warmth, a primitive emanation of sensuality that encroached on her space uncomfortably. She wondered fleetingly if she could convincingly find a reason to cancel the few minutes she had promised him – but then she pulled herself together. After all, there would be people around the school for a long time yet, especially with the exhibition attracting various visitors.

"Well, now," she said briskly as they arrived in the classroom, "why don't you bring – "

"Hold it right there," said a flat-toned voice, and she turned toward the windows. The fire-escape door was open and a short, stocky man stood there.

He had a gun in his hand.

Aimed directly at her chest "Shut your mouth an' keep it that way, see," the man went on. His eyes were a cold, unwavering grayness like an arctic sea. "One peep out of you and them pretty knockers gonna get a couple spare holes in 'em.

She started to turn to Willy for help, but froze when his snicker sounded through the humming of blood in her ears.

"Okay," the man commanded, "just come over here – nobody's gonna hurt you long as you just keep quiet and do like I tell you.

She stood paralyzed with fear, unable to move, until Willy goosed her with a blunt forefinger, when she gasped in outrage and stumbled forward suddenly, her eyes fixed upon the barrel of the gun like a mesmerized rabbit's.

"Right down the fire escape. That's it."

The gun was pressed against her back, and he was clutching her upper arm in a grip that was just short of downright painful They descended to the ground and he guided her toward the main gates, where a large car stood with doors open, engine running, a man poised in readiness behind the wheel.

Slowly the man with the icy gray eyes raised the gun, and the chilly metal pressed against her temple.

She fainted.

She heard a voice through the swirling darkness that enfolded her.

"Easy as fallin' off a log."

Her eyelids felt as though they had been glued shut.

"One look at Jake with that gun against her head and they just opened up them glass cases and handed over all them coins without a murmur," the voice went on exultantly.

"But what you have ta go bringin' her along for?" grumbled another voice. "That's a fuckin' kidnappin' rap.

"Look, I told ya, if the cops find us while we're waitin' for Miles to show, we're gonna need a hostage to bargain. They ain't gonna risk gettin' her killed. Don't be so fuckin' dumb, Jerry. Shit, they'd be chasin' us right now if we didn't have her along with us."

They were talking about her, she realized incredulously. They had kidnapped her; they had stolen Peter's coins and stamps and they were holding her as a hostage – No, oh, no! This was ridiculous! It was like one of those idiotic television shows! Things like this didn't happen in real life! She would just open her eyes… she would wake up from this absurd, uncomfortable dream at once.

She tried to move, but there was no strength in her body. Her arms were tucked uncomfortably behind her, but when she tried to move them, they refused to obey.

With great difficulty, she forced her eyelids apart, and was suddenly aware that she was in a fast-moving car. There was somebody on either side of her, and cord was bound around her wrists behind her, and around her ankles, too.

She made an inarticulate sound, and the men turned to look at her. One was Willy Jessel, the other was the stocky, gray-eyed gunman – Jake, she thought, recalling the earlier conversation.

"Hey, welcome back, teach," Willy grinned triumphantly, baring his healthy white teeth. "Bit of a change from teachin' history, huh?"

His light blue eyes were malicious, lecherous, traveling over her face and then downward. Once again his gaze was fixed upon her breasts, and the tip of his broad pink tongue passed slowly and deliberately over his lower lip.

She shuddered very slightly, and his grin turned into a positive leer.

"Wassmatter, Miss Avalon? Feelin' the cold?"

"Ah, knock it off," Jake muttered impatiently. His eyes also appraised her, and somehow his evident lack of interest was even more scary than Willy's lustful scrutiny.

"Aw, don't I get to have a little fun?" Willy protested.

"Huh?" Jake grimaced, following Willy's gaze to her breasts. Then he shrugged. "Just don't go thrashin' around too much – there ain't that much room in this damn car."

"Plenty of room where we're goin', huh?"

Willy slowly raised one big, blunt-fingered hand with its short-bitten nails, and it hovered over her right breast. She watched, appalled, as it crept closer, a fraction of an inch at a time, like a predator stalking its terrified prey.

"I been about achin' to find out if them boobs feel as good as they look all year," Willy said, almost conversationally. "I been watchin' in class. They really stand out the way you got your hands behind you, know that – Miss Avalon?"

He drawled the syllables of her name mockingly, relishing the juxtaposition of the formal address with the slow approach of his hand to the cringing mound beneath her white sweater.

"Biggest tits of any teacher in the school," he breathed. "An' I tell you what, Miss Avalon – I got the biggest you-know-what of any guy there, includin' the faculty. You wanna take a look at it, huh?"

She shook her head fervently.

"Okay, no rush," he chuckled tolerantly. "You're gonna see it plenty soon enough – an' -"

He closed his cupped hand on her breast She gasped and tried to pull away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Jake was right beside her, watching the scene with sardonic amusement "Wearin' a bra," Willy said, sounding disappointed. "What d'ya think?" Jake said. "If she didn't they'd be heavin' around like a couple plates loose jello."

"Hey, what you guys doin'?" The man sitting beside the driver turned around and his damp-looking brown eyes widened. He had a plump moonface and his lips glistened from being constantly moistened with a nervous tongue.

"Checkin' her out in the jug department," Willy sniggered. "Like ta get your hands on that pair, Jerry?"

"Yeah!" The brown eyes glowed. "How's it feel, Willy? Nice an' firm, huh?"

"Got a fuckin' bra on," Willy grumbled. "Let's take a look at it, huh?"

He released her breast, and with one swift movement he grabbed the hem of her white sweater and jerked it up under her armpits, exposing the lacy brassiere that lay beneath.

"Oh please," she moaned. "Please leave me alone!"

"Stick your finger in one of the cups, Willy," Jerry urged. "See if she's got padding in there, or if they're real."

She tried once again to shrink away, as unsuccessfully as before, and Willy relentlessly thrust his large finger into the left cup and probed about and around the warm flesh which cringed beneath his touch.

"All real, sure enough," he proclaimed exultantly. "Real nice an' smooth, like silk." He forced the rest of his hand into the cup, which made the back strap cut into her painfully, and squeezed. His palm enfolded her nipple, which responded reflexively.

"Hey," Willy reported, "she's got nips the size of a goddamn cigarette butt."

"Knock it off," growled the guy at the wheel. "How'm I supposed to drive with all that goddamn yackety-yak?"

The others ignored him.

"Take it off of her, Willy," Jerry begged. "Let's get a look. I ain't seen knockers that big in months."

She shut her eyes and turned her face away as Willy's thick fingers fumbled beneath her sweater, groping for the back fastening. He slipped it open, but couldn't get the bra off because of her tied hands, so he slid the shoulder straps down her upper arms. The flimsy garment dangled uselessly, and her breasts spilled forth beneath the rolled-up sweater.

"Oh, jesus," Jerry croaked. "Like cream or somethin"… that real white skin you can see the blue veins in, an' them nipples all pink – look at them standin' up there! Oh jesus!"

Sally's cheeks were aflame, and she felt the flush of embarrassment and shame turning her neck crimson too. The air-conditioned interior of the card had erected both nipples and was keeping them taut, although she tried fervently to force them to relax.

"I'm gonna cream, never mind her tits," Willy muttered.

Then she opened her eyes, afraid to keep them closed lest he take her by surprise, though there was nothing she could do about whatever entered his head.

Nothing… nothing she could do about it…

He was fumbling with his fly.

"Take a look down here, Miss Avalon."

She didn't want to, but her eyes were drawn with irresistible fascination.

He tugged open the zipper and dragged it down with a metallic hiss, and groped inside to wrestle free a thick, purple-headed shaft that jutted aggressively up from his lap. She flinched inwardly at the sight: it looked almost wrist-thick, and must have been a good eight inches long.

And it was the first time she had ever seen one hard…

"How'd'ya like that, huh?" he demanded proudly. "Told you I got the biggest one around, huh, didn't I? Bet you never had one this big before, did you, Miss Avalon?"

She stared in horrified wonder.

"Turns you on, don't it?"

She tried to shake her head, but couldn't move.

Nothing she could do about it… nothing, nothing, nothing.

"Look," he went on, stroking its mushroom head with the tip of a finger to spread the drop of juice that oozed from the slit. "You sure turn him on, teach. Look at all that jism leakin' out there! Needs it, too – ain't easy gettin' this big dork up a broad's twat unless it's good an' juicy. Some of 'em just take a look at him an' the juice comes drippin' right out of their panties. They can't wait to get it rammed up their hole. An' some of 'em run screamin' – only they mostly don't get the chance to run far. I don't give up easy once a chick gets me goin'. What kind are you, teach? You wanna try runnin' – or are you sittin' there with your twat drippin' an' ready for it?"

She wrenched her eyes away.

"You're disgusting," she snapped.

"Oh yeah?" Willy rumbled sullenly, dangerously, and she was suddenly aware how stupid such a remark had been.

Helpless. Mustn't antagonize them! Nothing… nothing.

"I – " she began, but could think of nothing to say.

"That ain't disgustin', teach." He grasped the monstrous organ below its broad head and started to work the skin up and down. The movement dragged her gaze back to it. "Pure pleasure that is – how many cocks you had up you in your life, Miss Avalon?"