THE PAST IS CLOSE BEHIND - Part 2 by Alex Birch Julian Morse teaching here...now?? How could that be? He had retired early ten years before. Suzanne knew all right. She'd kept the newspaper clipping in her handbag for weeks. She was suddenly irrationally angry. Why hadn't Amanda mentioned her teachers' names? Why hadn't she been warned ? Just as swiftly anger turned to guilt. Of course she had talked about them... to her father who had taken the trouble to enquire. Suzanne felt wretched. She'd asked as little as possible about her daughter's school and this was her reward. Oh Jesus, the source of all her nightmares was right here and now she had to go back and face him. Face him for the first time in two decades ..forced to remember______________ ________it had started two or three weeks after her caning. Suzanne had been so traumatised by the pain and indignity of it that she had lost sleep for nights afterwards. It had been three days before she could sit comfortably and her parents' wrath over her cheating was subdued once her mother had examined the results of the punishment. The angry red weals, laid in a perfect grouping with not a single overlay, had borne testimony to the work of an expert and Suzanne's parents had wisely decided that their daughter had been punished enough. School had been hell for the next few days too with her classmates nudging each other and rubbing their bottoms each time she passed, though gradually the pain and the jesting subsided. The memory however did not. So it was that some weeks later, Suzanne walked into Julian Morse's chemistry class , undid her satchel and realised with horror that she had forgotten to bring her homework. She had never done that before and she found herself apologising as the work was collected, then told to wait behind after class. Feeling wretched and embarrassed, she stood in front of the teacher's desk as he lectured her about forgetfulness and the consequences of it. She had disliked Julian Morse from the first ever class she'd attended. He was maybe forty, bespectacled and plump with spots and a receding hairline. Hardly a great catch and it was no surprise when the girls discovered he lived alone in a bachelor flat. There had been much jesting between the girls in Suzanne's class about the sex orgies they imagined he held and their nausea on seeing the way he stared at their bodies as they walked into his class. The girls always joked that Suzanne was his favourite, that he was dying to 'give her one'. She always dismissed the jesting with a giggle but inside she felt a cold shiver for there was no doubt that Morse's piggy eyed lecherous staring seemed to focus on her at every opportunity. Now she stood as he leered at her through his spectacles and informed her that work should be handed in on time. He would have to allot one demerit, he informed her gleefully, and was she aware that three demerits in a term resulted in a visit to the Head. Suzanne's reaction must have been the catalyst he sought for she had recoiled in shock, her face suddenly pale. Morse's eyes opened wide, his leering smirk spreading. 'Ah yes, Suzanne, not a prospect you relish, I see...' he oozed '...of course, you were caned recently for cheating, were you not? Quite right too...and on your bare bottom, I understand!' He paused to allow the full blush of embarrassment and despair to colour Suzanne's cheeks before continuing. 'Then I suggest you give my classes your full attention and hand in work on time , young lady, if you don't want another..er.. memorable ..visit to Mrs Frobisher. It's in your hands...now you may go!' She left the room, close to tears, the picture of that smug leering smile of power clouding her mind. The next day she almost rushed the late homework to the staff room, anxious to ensure that it was delivered to Morse personally , and as she left she heard a fellow teacher chuckle 'Looks like you've got one young lady well tr ained, Julian' and tears of anger filled her eyes. A week or so later, Suzanne worked late into the night to finish her next chemistry assignment and hastily tucked it into her satchel. Chemistry was in the afternoon and as Morse walked round the class, Suzanne reached into her satchel and nearly wet herself in horror. The homework was gone and she found herself alone in front of Morse's desk for the second time. 'I did do it, Sir, I did...and I brought it this morning...' she almost wept'...but it's just disappeared!' and she could see from the contempt on his face how little effect her pathetic story was having. Where could it have gone? She was certain she'd packed it in her satchel! Surely no one would steal her homework! Suzanne was close to tears as the little piggy eyes bored into her face. 'So if you brought it this morning, where is it girl...?' he sneered '...you know lying will just make things worse. Very well Suzanne , it's a detention tomorrow night and another demerit. You are very close to the edge, you know!' and she had slunk off, just managing to get outside the school before she burst into tears of helpless frustration and distress. When she got home she'd checked everywhere but there was no sign of the missing work and Suzanne began to think she was going mad. The next week she did her chemistry homework with almost religious dedication, packed it away in her satchel and checked three times before she took it to school. Despite being the butt of jokes from her school friends she had taken that satchel everywhere with her, to break, to the canteen at lunchtime and even to the toilet. It was never out of her sight and when the Chemistry lesson came round, she waited with pounding heart for Morse to collect the homework as he always did and this time it was clutched tightly in her hand....but he made no move to do so. When the bell sounded and the children rose for their next lesson, he said 'Oh, don't forget to leave your homework in a tidy pile on my desk' and Suza nne nearly screamed 'No, no..I want you to see it, ..please..please collect it from me' but she obediently did as she was told and left for her next class, her stomach churning with a fearful premonition. The following day, during a private study period, Morse appeared in the classroom, an angry expression on his face. 'Suzanne Collins, come out and see me, please!' he ordered and she went cold, a feeling of inevitability swept over her and she got to her feet, trembling with fright and walked to the door. Outside the study room, Morse glared at her. 'For the third time, I haven't had any work from you girl...and you know what that means. That's three demerits and a visit to Mrs Frobisher!' Suzanne grabbed desperately at his arm. 'Sir, I did hand it in...I did..I did!' she yelled and Morse angrily brushed her arm away. 'How dare you accost me like that, young lady, not to mention screaming like a fishwife. Its quite obvious a trip to the Head is just what you need though I must say after your last experience I...' and Suzanne found herself squeezing his arm softly, tears rolling down her face, begging for mercy. 'I'm sorry Sir ..' she whimpered '...please, please don't send me to the Head, I beg you' and she would always remember the triumphant look on his puffy face as he said 'I'll see. Meet me in the chemistry lab immediately after school and we will discuss the matter.' Then he'd turned on his heel and walked away leaving her weeping and trembling. The afternoon had been a haze for Suzanne, her mind on the impending meeting with Morse and what action he would take. She couldn't understand what was happening, how she'd found herself in this nightmare. She's done her work, how could it go missing..why him of all people. She couldn't face the cane again , she'd do anything, absolutely anything...then she was awoken from her reverie by a piece of chalk thrown expertly by Mlle Ducanet , her French teacher, which hit her on the shoulder. 'Reveilles toi!! Mlle Collins' came the demand amid laughter and Suzanne, red faced , apologised. At 4pm, her face like chalk she walked slowly across to the chemistry lab and, with shaking hands, opened the door. Morse was alone at the teachers' desk gazing at her sternly, a thin smile at the corner of his lips. 'Lock the laboratory door, Suzanne...' he ordered '...I don't want our little tete a tete to be disturbed' and, somewhat puzzled and fearful, she did so, then walked over to his desk as the podgy imperious finger beckoned. She stood in front of his desk like a penitent but he beckoned her to come and stand at his side. 'Closer' he ordered and she licked her lips nervously but shuffled 2 paces forwards until she was almost touching his trouser legs. 'A perfect venue, I thought, Suzanne ...' Morse said, his eyes devouring her body intently until Suzanne could no longer look at him, her head lowering in shame '...to discuss the failings of a very silly girl. It's quiet and away from the main offices so we shouldn't be disturbed. I really should send you to the Head and I haven't yet decided...' he grinned as he heard the gasp of fright '...quite what to do. It rather depends on you and whether we can sort this out here and now.' Suzanne knew she it was pointless to continue protesting her innocence, it was his word against hers and she just hung her head, tears not far away. She had no idea what he had in mind. 'I think you know the school rules about submitting work and what 3 demerits means don't you, girl ...' and she nodded, then stiffened, suddenly aware that his plump hand was stroking the backs of her legs, just under her skirt, his fingers running gently up and down her thighs '...but you don't want the cane again, do you, Suzanne!' 'N..no Sir..oh please Sir...' she muttered as she felt his hand stroking her thighs and pulling her gently towards him until she began to topple forwards over his lap '...oh no, please Sir, you can't, you can't, its not allowed!' as she fell forward, her bottom now uppermost across his lap, the fondling of her thighs continuing. 'Can't I?...' the mocking slimy tones came back '...well I don't see how I can just let this go, Suzanne, and I feel that I am acting in loco parentis here. Its something your parents should have done a long time ago...' for a second the hand stopped stroking '...but of course, if you would prefer the cane....?' Suzanne's sudden flood of helpless tears and abandonment of any resistance was enough as Morse slowly eased her little blue skirt gently upwards. She wriggled and squirmed but to no avail as the warm plump hand pushed at the skirt, the fat palm trailing up the back of her bare thighs until her white thin knickers were exposed. She lay still, defeated, her eyes red with tears as Morse began to softly stroke the target area. His warm hand began to mould and squeeze her buttocks, his fingers moving round in gentle circles as he explored the terrain. She lay still hoping that he would soon get on with the spanking, knowing this was wrong, realising she was the victim of abuse and helpless to do a thing about it. Oh God when would it start? The hand continued its gentle exploration of her bottom and Suzanne, suddenly shocked, became aware of his warm penis stiffening against her thigh. Suddenly she understood that she was the victim of a set up. Somehow Morse had contrived all this to get her in just this position so he could satisfy his cravings. She felt nauseated and angry, humiliated and deeply ashamed as the teacher's hand continued to massage her bottom through her knickers. Briefly the sensation of his touch was gone then Suzanne gasped aloud as a sharp smack struck her buttocks leaving a warm burning sensation spreading across her bottom. Then he spanked her again, and again, not too hard and with deliberate, measured strokes delivered at moderate force so that her bottom built up a slow burn, the heat beginning to spread across the entire expanse of her buttocks and down between her legs. She closed her eyes as the spanking continued and then groaned in horror as she sensed the warmth between her legs becoming a relentless tingle which seemed to reach deep into her pussy. Red faced with shame, Suzanne sensed the moisture deep inside her most private place and realised that her pussy was lubricating with every sharp warm spank. She nearly cried out as the crotch of her knickers moistened rapidly and prayed that her arousal would not be visible to her tormentor. Oh Christ, she hated him, he nauseated her yet her body was giving opposite signals with every touch of his hand. Her prayers went unanswered as Morse stopped the spanking and ran one finger gently down the valley of her cunt through the thin panties, then made a disapproving noise as Suzanne closed her eyes in abject humiliation. 'You are a VERY naughty girl, Suzanne...' said Morse with a laugh '...such a wanton child! I think we better have these off before they're unfit to wear, don't you?' and she was too debased and shattered to argue, lifting her hips obediently as he slipped her knickers down and off. Now she lay there with it all on show, just hoping the nightmare would finish soon. What else might he do to her in this position? She tried not to weep loudly, feeling childish and stupid, but she knew that Morse was staring keenly under the cheeks of her bare bottom at the distended lips of her cunt , moist and swollen with need. 'Dear me, what WOULD your mother think?' Morse whispered as he stroked her bare arse, pulling the cheeks gently apart to expose her anus before recommencing the spanking, gentle, repetitive and insistent as before until Suzanne forgot her modesty and her shame, her pussy now tingling with desire as the spanking resumed. Soon she was almost humping his knee, her bottom rising and falling with the smacks as she began to forget where she was, forget whose lap she was over and simply allowed this whole glorious experience to take her over. She made no resistance when his warm finger slipped into her vagina and teased her clitoris into swelling pulsating life until she climaxed over his knee with a loud squeal of pleasure and exhaustion. Suzanne was in another world for a few seconds until she felt the podgy hand stroking her hair. 'Come on get up...' he said softly '..that's enough punishment for today' and she slid off his lap, her legs hardly able to hold her up, her face bright red and her eyes damp from crying. She pulled her skirt down and made to take her knickers from the desk but Morse picked them up first. 'I think I'll keep these, Suzanne...'he said grinning '...just a little memento. You'll just have to make sure you don't climb the stairs on the bus going home...and I think this will just be our little secret, don't you? Nothing said to mommy or your little pals because I might get very annoyed by such stories. Then it'll be Mrs Frobisher and the cane. Do I make myself clear?' 'Y..yes Sir..' Suzanne muttered, desperately close to complete breakdown as she walked to the lab door and unlocked it. 'Oh by the way...'he said, smiling as she was about to leave '...that was only the first instalment. I could tell you really needed that, don't you agree, and a lot more besides....?' she couldn't face him, her eyes glued in shame to the floor '...so same time each Wednesday for the next four weeks until the end of term. Understand, Suzanne?' 'Yes Sir' she muttered softly then left the room, hearing him break into high pitched laughter as she burst into floods of tears____________ ___________Suzanne grabbed some toilet paper from the roll and used it to dry her eyes, got up and left the closet, then walked over to the bathroom mirror. Not too bad, eyes a bit puffy but a good cold rinse would reduce the worst effects. Just then Maureen Bishop came into the washroom, her face reflecting concern as Suzanne hastily calmed her worries. 'Sorry, Mrs Bishop, I don't know what came over me, I guess it was something I ate!' she said with a sheepish grin as the Head Teacher fussed anxiously. 'I'm feel better now...' Suzanne said bravely '...ready to face the world again. I am so embarrassed, my daughter will think I'm mad!' With a mixture of shame and dread, Suzanne forced a smile of reassurance and then followed Maureen Bishop out of the washroom and out into the corridor once more. She felt like someone facing the last walk to the condemned cell, her mind racing with images of that slimy bastard grinning with pleasure as he humiliated her all those years ago. Shaming her with such intimate exposure, his obscene fondling and worse, his knowing that he had robbed her of innocence to the point where she had relished his intimate attention. Each week she had turned up as promised, not a word said to anyone, then co-operated as Morse bared her bottom and spanked her to noisy orgasm, stroking her hair softly as each session finished and she went home to mommy..just a normal happy schoolgirl ! God what did they know? Now the swing doors were opening and they were back in the assembly hall. Suzanne took a deep breath and walked slowly back to where her anxious daughter rose quickly and held her hand while Morse sat like a fat giant spider behind his desk and beamed. 'Are you feeling better, Mrs Knight...' he enquired '...how unfortunate. I'm so glad we are able to resume!' Suzanne forced herself to look at him as he beamed back, his face expressionless. God, either he genuinely didn't remember her or he was a cool bastard ! Not a glimmer of recognition crossed his face. She decided to push it. 'I thought you might remember me, Mr Morse...' she said, as impassively as she could manage '...for I used to attend this school 20 years ago. I was Suzanne Collins then' She stared hard into his face and she saw the piggy eyes widen with surprise for a second and then a bead of perspiration form on his forehead, but other than that no reaction whatsoever. Jesus, how can the guy be so sure of himself? A cool customer! 'Of course...' he smirked, after a brief pause '...Suzanne, one of my favourite pupils! How could I forget? I must say ...' and he smiled at Amanda '..your daughter has inherited your good looks...' Amanda blushed and looked down, shy and awkward '...I should have seen the resemblance! Of course I retired from teaching, Mrs Knight, as you may recall but , with the current shortage of staff, how could I refuse the demand for my talents, eh' and he chuckled in that high pitched way that Suzanne lived through every day of her life. She felt her anger rising but forced herself to sit tight and feign politeness as Morse reviewed Amanda's progress under his tutelage. Suzanne had begun to calm down, pleased that she was able to face this old lecher at last, glad that times had changed, proud of her daughter's academic prowess. The review was coming to an end , then Morse suddenly glanced at both mother and daughter, that look of supreme smug power crossing his face which Suzanne had come to know so well. 'There is just one issue, Mrs Knight...' he said smoothly, staring hard at Suzanne, studying her face intensely '...and, sorry Amanda, I know I didn't warn you about bringing this up, but your daughter does seem to have a habit of not doing her assignments from time to time...' Suzanne's blood ran cold and suddenly her breathing was tight and strained '...which of course is very serious. I just wanted to assure you that we do have this matter in hand, between us, don't we Amanda, and I think we are generally getting to grips with it!' Suzanne opened her mouth to speak, but only a whimper came forth, as she stared at her young daughter whose face had now developed a deep flush from the neck upwards, her beetroot red face suddenly turned away from her mother, unable to look her in the eye. The room began to rotate as Suzanne realised that she was falling slowly, that voices were all coming from the end of a very long tunnel as she heard 'Good Lord, I think she's fain...' and then ...oblivion. END