Mom dealt with dads passing by burying herself both in the business and in local events. She had become a well respected member of the community, and spent her time guarding her self-inflated good image jealously. This meant she had little time to help me with my own grief. I, myself, dealt with his death by becoming an angry young man. My temper was quick to flare up, and slow to cool down. This brought me into conflict with my teachers. They tried to be understanding at first, but everyone’s patience has a limit I guess. Over the past six months my temper and grief had burnt themselves out, and I was now a normal studious teenager, much to the relief of my teachers. However, one teacher still treated me as public enemy number one, Miss Monica Hardcastle. I have never met anyone whose name so fitted their personality. She was strict, unyielding, and seemed to subscribe to the Victorian principle of “children should be seen and not heard”. My previous temper tantrums had not; therefore, endeared me to her. She was in her mid to late thirties and always wore her blonde hair tied back into a bun. She wore gold rimmed glasses which she wore low on her nose, to enable her to glare at people. Her figure was pleasantly proportioned but she took great pains to hide it behind calf length grey skirts and matching jacket. More importantly, she delighted in keeping me after school to make my life miserable.
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After yet another day of being kept after school on the flimsiest of pretexts, I trudged home and flopped onto the sofa. “Daniel dear, your Uncle Jim is on the phone”, my mother called from the next room, “why don’t you come speak to him”. This was all I needed a conversation with boring Uncle Jim, this would be the perfect end to the day. “Hello Uncle Jim”, I said with feigned delight. “Hello Daniel, your mother tells me you are having trouble at school”, said Uncle Jim with similarly feigned interest. I described my ongoing suffering at the hands of Miss Hardcastle in some detail, and possibly with a little bit of exaggeration here and there. “I did my teacher training with a Monica Hardcastle”, said Uncle Jim. “Perhaps it was the same one” I replied. “I doubt it Daniel that Miss Hardcastle flunked off the course, she couldn’t be teaching”. “Do you still have a copy of your classes’ examination results, uncle Jim?” I asked with sudden interest. “Sure he said, I will e-mail them over tomorrow”. I rushed home from school the next day and to my delight I found that Uncle Jim had sent the results as promised. Sure enough in the middle of the list was a Monica Hardcastle with a great big F next to her name. Obviously this was not the same Miss Hardcastle, but perhaps the coincidence would strike her as funny and crack that wall of contempt she kept between us. The next day, true to form, Miss Hardcastle decided I had been lazy and kept me back to tidy up the classroom.
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She sat at her desk marking homework and glancing up only to glare at me over her glasses. I summed up all of my courage and decided to speak to her. “Excuse me Miss Hardcastle I hate to disturb you, but I found this document you may find interesting”. Without even looking at me she held out one hand. I dutifully handed over the exam results. Miss Hardcastle was silent for several moments then at last she spoke in a very subdued tone. “How did you find out?” Alarm bells started ringing in my head, this was the same Monica Hardcastle, and she had no right to be teaching.
Miss Hardcastle had started to shake ever so slightly and her voice was quiet as he spoke. “All my life I wanted to teach, I worked so hard to make the grade, but couldn’t stand the pressure of the final exams, she said in a half sob. “Please don’t tell anyone”, she begged, “teaching is my life”. It dawned on me then that I could make Miss Hardcastle change her attitude to me, but I had to press my advantage while she was still vulnerable. “I don’t think we need tell anyone”, I said, “but you need to start being a lot nicer to me”. “I will do anything you want, as long as you don’t tell anyone”, she said in a half sob. My mind was racing with possibilities now. “Come and sit on your desk, so we can talk more openly” I said.
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Dutifully she sat on the desk and crossed her long slender legs. “Do you wear stockings Monica?” She looked at me with a started expression but slowly nodded her head. “I think I would like to see your stockings, Monica”, I said smugly. Miss Hardcastle shook her head. “I am sorry but that is going too far”. “You are right of course”, I agreed, “perhaps the class will be better off under a qualified teacher anyway”. She looked at me with a horrified expression for a few moments, and then she nodded her head in a gesture of defeat. Slowly she stood up and undid the buttons at the back of her skirt. Then she slowly undid her zipper and her skirt gently fell to the floor. Miss Hardcastle stood there, her head bowed in shame, as I greedily looked her over. She was wearing a pair of sensible black shoes and this complemented her black stockings magnificently. Her legs were long and shapely and I allowed my gaze to move slowly up her legs, to the point where her jacket blocked any further exploration. “Nice”, I said. “Perhaps I could take a look at them without that boring jacket and blouse in the way”. “I am sorry Daniel, but this has gone too far already”, she said and started to reach down for her skirt.
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I roughly grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand back up again. “Daniel you are hurting me”, she gasped. “Now you listen to me bitch”, I said through clenched teeth. “Everything you have lived and worked for now depends on my favour; I can destroy you and leave you with nothing”. “Like it or not, I now own you, and you will do as you are told” Miss Hardcastle tried to stifle a sob, “please Dan, don’t make me go any further”. I leaned towards her and asked, “Who owns you?” “You do”, she sobbed. “Then do as you were told. ” I had never been this forceful with anyone before but the power I felt now was intoxicating, I don’t think I could have stopped if I had wanted to. I watched in ever growing excitement as Miss Hardcastle removed her jacket and sensible white blouse. What a body she had been keeping hidden from me all these years. She had a white suspender belt and white cotton panties, with a lacy white bra covering her shapely breasts. I walked slowly around her enjoying the sight of her heart shaped arse and milky white skin. I stopped behind her and reached my hands round to cup her breasts. As I fondled her, I pressed my crotch against her, allowing her to feel how erect I was. I almost laughed out loud when I felt her shudder in realisation at what the evening held for her.
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I moved back in front of her, and began to remove my own clothes until I was wearing only my boxers, my seven inch erection clearly straining against the material. “Kneel down”, I commanded. She complied without comment and I knew she was mine now. “I don’t think I need to spell out what to do now, do I?” Miss Hardcastle slowly shook her head and with shaking hands pulled down my boxers. Then took my cock in her right hand and gently began to stroke me. Then she leaned forward and began to run the tip of her tongue over the head of my cock I moaned with pleasure as she expertly worked my cock, then after what seemed an eternity she took me into her warm mouth. Then using hand and mouth together she began to give me my first ever blowjob. Now because of my previous temper problems I had never been with a girl before and it didn’t take long for me to reach orgasm. Miss Hardcastle pulled back as I filled her mouth with cum, and a spurt went over her glasses and cheek. “Make sure you don’t waste any”, I said as she dutifully swallowed. She nodded and began to lick the dribbles of cum from her hand and my cock. “What a good girl you have been Miss Hardcastle, but you forgot to thank me for giving you my load”. “Thank you for your cum”, she whispered. “May I go now?” “No, that was just the starter, now for the main course”. “Stand up and take off your bra”, I commanded She stood up and unhooked her bra; I nearly shot my load again at the sight of her perfectly formed breasts and her large dark pink nipples.
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I leaned forward and began to suck on her soft breasts until I had both nipples erect. I instructed her to turn around and remove her panties. Her arse was heart shaped and beautifully framed by her white suspender belt. Gently I ran my hands over her smooth buttocks and thighs. Then I moved in front of her and moved my hand down to her pussy. In spite of her stuffy attire at work Miss Hardcastle had a neatly trimmed pussy, and it seemed she was a natural blonde. I was surprised to find that she was quite damp and I eagerly slid my fingers between the swollen lips of her pussy. She began to moan and after a few minutes I removed my hand from her pussy and glanced meaningfully at the floor. Without out being asked she lay down and opened her legs for me. “Just get it over with”, she said. Not wanting to disappoint I moved onto her and eased my cock into her warm moist pussy. I began to move my hips against her, awkwardly at first, but I soon entered a steady rhythm. Gradually she began to move her hips in time with me and I could feel her body begin to slowly tense up. Then with a gasp her entire body stiffened as the orgasm hit her. As I was very inexperienced I pulled out in surprise and shot my load over her stomach.
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Oh well it had been fun all the same. I quickly dressed and then watched as she began to gather her clothes. “You’d better not tell anyone about this”, she said. “Oh I won’t Monica, no more than I will tell them about tomorrow night”. In shock she dropped her clothes and turned to face me, a pleading look in her eyes. “By the way tomorrow bring some lubricant so I can try your arse for size, you won’t forget now will you?” She began to tremble but managed to whisper “I won’t forget” I closed the door, and made my way home. School seemed so much more inviting now. And that is how I learned how much power you can hold if you find someone’s secrets. Perhaps next time I will tell you how I helped my friend live out his fantasies about my mother. .
