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The first woman I took against her will was the English Mistress at the
exclusive private school at which I was then a star pupil.

I had, for some time, lusted after Miss Howard (NOT her real name). It
was both a joy and a torment to sit in one of her classes and watch her
large, unfettered, breasts move beneath the starched white blouses she
invariably wore. One could just make out the pinkness of her nipples and
areolas through the crisp fabric. She had good legs, too, which she showed
off by wearing the shortest skirts compatible with her position in the
school. Miss Howard had ignored my attempts to establish a personal
relationship and had slapped my hand when it had 'accidentally' brushed
those magnificent tits. I determined to rape her.

I became the perfect student, the blue-eyed boy, the exemplar of the
Upper-Remove. So, during Rag Week, she was easily persuaded to help raise
funds for the charity supported by the school by becoming a 'hostage'. She
was happy to be imprisoned in the old box room while I wrote the ransom
demand and - she thought - delivered it.

Of course, I did nothing of the sort.

The box room was an old music room and had been well sound-proofed in
the past to spare students and teachers alike endless repetitions of
misplayed versions of 'The Bluebells of Scotland'. I locked Miss Howard in
the room with a bottle of wine which I hoped she would drink in my absence.
'Candy is dandy,' said an American poet, 'but liquor is quicker.'

When I returned, about an hour later, she had finished the bottle of
claret but was not at all happy. She demanded to know the whereabouts of
the rest of the Upper-Remove and when she could expect to be released.

'I'm sorry to inform you, Miss Howard,' I said in my most serious voice,
'that the parents and Teachers Association Ltd. have declined to pay your
ransom. They are demanding proof that you are, indeed, being held in
durance vile.'

'What nonsense!' she said. 'I'm afraid this silly business has gone on
for too long. You had better untie me!' I had made a token effort to
fasten Miss Howard to an eye bolt in the wall, with cotton rope, as part of
the 'hostage' scenario. She had not thought to undo herself.

'I think the sort of proof usually sent by abductors is a little bit of
the victim's anatomy,' I said as I moved behind her, 'an ear, or a little
finger usually!'

She snorted, 'The PTA would like that! Hey! What are you doing?' I had
untied her from the eye-bolt and quickly seized up both wrists, binding
them together behind her back. 'You're supposed to be untying me!' 'But
I'm not, am I? No,' I answered my own question, 'I'm making sure your arms
are secure before I undress you.'

I reached around and squeezed her right breast. 'Have you been raped
before?' I asked conversationally.

Miss Howard looked at me blankly. I detected a hint of fear in her big
brown eyes I squeezed her tit again and smiled at the frightened teacher.

'Untie me at once, you wretched boy!' she gasped, 'Or I shall report you
to the Principal! This joke has gone much too far!'

'It's no joke and I'm not a boy ... as you're going to find out!' I
said aggressively. I discarded my blazer and shirt.

Miss Howard backed up against the wall. She tried a different approach.

'Look. Just let me go and we'll forget all about this, this, er
incident!' Her tone was conciliatory. I started to unbutton her blouse.

'Stop it!' she yelled, 'Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!' but I paid no
attention and soon exposed her perfect breasts which had been the object of
my daydreams (and night dreams too) since she had taken over Eng. Lit.
'A' from a crusty old bore, whose name I shall omit.

I felt the weight of each smooth mound. I stroked each pinky-brown
areola and gently pulled at each firm button of a nipple until they began
to grow. She began to gabble.

'Don't do this! Oh! You'll be sorry. This is sexual assault! Ah!
You've gone too far! Oh, my God!'

'Do be quiet!' I said as I removed her belt and skirt, 'Or I'll ram your
knickers down your throat!'

'Please,' she whispered as I tossed her skirt into a corner, 'W..what
are you going to do!'

She was panting with fear and, judging by the state of her nipples,
sexual excitement. I stroked her mons veneris through the sheer fabric of
her panties. My fingers detected a slickness between the lips of her cunt.
Her juices were indeed flowing.

'I'm going to fuck you,' I said. 'If you do as I tell you, you won't
get hurt. Now, get on your knees and push your tits out!'

Miss Howard didn't move.

'I want to see your tits at their very best,' I said reasonably, but she
remained hard against the wall. Her lower lip was trembling. She was
about to burst into tears.

'Right! Miss Howard,' I hissed, 'You want it rough!'

I ripped her blouse off and shredded it, then twisted the material into
a rough rope. I used this to bind her arms together behind her back so her
superb bosom stuck out. She looked wonderful, like the figurehead of some
old ship.

I slapped each firm breast hard enough to set them quivering and to make
the teacher whimper, more with fear than with pain. I toyed with the idea
of making her perform fellatio but was afraid that, without a ring gag, she
could do me some damage.

As I sat on one of the trunks in the box-room to take off my shoes and
socks and she spoke again - quietly but desperately.

'Sebastian, don't do this thing. I've done nothing to deserve this!'

'But you have,' I replied, 'Don't you remember?'

She looked puzzled.

'What?'

I took off a shoe and waved it at her.

'You encouraged me to think about rape. You were very enthusiastic
about my essay on the subject. Remember it, "In Defence of Tarquin"?'

'But that was an appreciation of Shakespeare's verse!' she cried.

'It was also an appreciation of how well Lucrece got fucked and how much
she liked it,' I replied, stepping out of my school flannel trousers and
revealing an erection the old Roman would have been proud of, straining
against my underpants. 'You remember I argued that she wouldn't have
topped herself had she not enjoyed the experience?'

Miss Howard licked her lips. She was probably thinking that if she
could engage me in conversation about literature she could delay the sticky
business I had so carefully planned. 'She was ashamed, sure, but ...' the
teacher began in her best classroom manner but I didn't let her finish.

'Stand up!' I ordered.

'What...?' she began.

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I'm going to take your knickers off, Miss Howard,' I said formally, 'A
very necessary preliminary to fucking you senseless!'

As I peeled off my underpants, she saw the full extent of my erection.
Without being boastful I'm better hung than most and I'd been anticipating
this moment for some weeks. It was big. Miss Howard made a dash for the
door. I had left the key in the lock and there was, I suppose, an outside
chance that she could have turned it with her hands behind her back, and
escaped into the corridor beyond.

She didn't quite reach the door before I tripped her up. As she fell I
grabbed the waist band of her panties. The thin material disintegrated,
and revealed her plump pink vagina, crowned with a carefully groomed and
trimmed thatch of soft blonde pubic hair and a tightly knotted pinky- brown
anal sphincter.

I rolled her over so that she could see my face and prick as I prepared
to mount her but she sat up and propelled herself quickly backwards with
her heels. She finished up hard against the wall, breasts heaving and eyes
wide with fear.

'I beg you,' she whispered, 'please, let me go!'

'Miss Howard,' I said, bending to stroke one of her luscious tits, 'No!'

A viscous drop of seminal fluid dripped from the end of my erection. I
caught it on a finger and transferred it to my victim's pink walled twat. I
stroked her silky slit and was surprised at how moist she was.

I started to rub her gently and was pleased to find she responded -
physically.

'No! Oh!,' she moaned as I rubbed her clitoris.

'You like that, don't you?' I asked.

I was surprised that an intelligent woman, well aware of what indignity
she was about to be put through, should take pleasure in what I suppose you
could call 'foreplay'. 'Please stop!' she gasped, tears starting to trickle
down her flushed cheeks.

I slid a finger into her vagina. Although moist the opening was
surprisingly tight.

'Don't tell me you're a virgin?' I said jokingly. She sobbed.

I put another finger into her cunt and pushed.

She screamed.

I spread her legs wide.

I was getting a real feeling of euphoria in putting off the moment of
penetration. I let the tip of my penis rest against her parted labia.

'I asked you a question, Miss Howard. Are you a virgin?

She sobbed hysterically. Her frightened stare now fixed on my swollen ,
thick-veined, member.

'It's a simple question,' I continued, 'You've either been fucked before
or you haven't.'

She didn't answer, so I slapped her tits and was so taken with the way
they wobbled, I slapped them again and again - not too hard but hard enough
to make her talk.

'Well?' I said, and added in a gentler tone, 'It will make a difference
you know. If you are a virgin.'

She tore her gaze from my prick, which was oozing lubricating juices
onto her blonde snatch,and looked me in the eyes.

'Do..do you mean that, Sebastian?' she said, hopefully . 'Yes, Miss
Howard.' I replied with all the sincerity I could muster. 'Or should I
call you "Phoebe"? That is your name isn't it?'

She nodded, her eyes scanned my apparently open face. I detected a
faint glimmer of hope in them.

'What sort of difference will it make?' she asked, her eyes flicking to
her crotch where my erection was pressing.

'One has to have special regard for virginity,' I said piously. 'A
maidenhead is a rare thing these days.'

'I ...I tried to keep myself ... pure,' she stammered.'

'Really?' I said trying to sound disappointed. 'So you are, in fact, a
virgin, Phoebe?'

'Yes, Sebastian, I'm a virgin!' she said.

I'm sure that she thought this declaration would shame me into
abandoning my well laid plans. I wanted her to think that she had been
spared ravishment at the eleventh hour. It made what happened next twice
as sweet.

'No, you're fucking, NOT!' I howled and drove my throbbing prick deep
inside her.

I felt no hymen block that first wild rough thrust but that's not to say
she lied. The walls of her vagina were tight but not dry and I felt my
glans butt against her cervix before I withdrew, in part, before screwing
her into the ground. I fucked her in this rough manner, bucking wildly out
of control, with no thought for her comfort, let alone her pleasure, until
I came.

Later in the afternoon I was more considerate.

The initial intense pleasure and excitement of having raped a thirty
year old virgin gradually gave way to a more sustainable sensation of
well-being - for me that is. Phoebe took some careful handling before she
emerged from a state of shock and could be persuaded to allow her animal instincts some latitude. She reacted most favourably when she felt my well
weighted scrotum swing against her exposed arse while she was propped on a
cabin-trunk with her legs over my shoulders.

I did get her to climax more than once despite the shame she said she
felt and the loathing she expressed for me - her sexual master. At last it
was time to end the game and for us both to return to our appointed place
in the hierarchy of the school.

'I shall, of course, report your disgusting behaviour!' she sobbed when
I eventually untied her arms and wrists and permitted her to dress. I even
gave her my blazer to cover her nakedness.

'I wouldn't do that, Phoebe,' I responded. 'It will be just your word
against mine.'

'There will be tests! DNA!' she said. 'I'm full of your revolting
mess. God! You could have made me pregnant!'

'I won't deny I made love to you, Miss Howard.' I grinned at her. 'I
was most grateful for your invitation and, although I didn't drink any wine
myself - being under age, you know - I can see how it might have affected
your judgement. Perhaps I should have refused your suggestion that we meet
in private.'

She was staggered. 'Why... you... you... scheming young swine! What
do you mean, "made love"? You raped me!'

'That may well be thought to be a natural defence from a spinster
teacher suspected of seducing one of her favourite students,' I
speculated.'The phrase, "frustrated old-maid" springs to mind.' I opened
the door for her. There was no one in the corridor.

'Best to say nothing, Phoebe,' I said, already planning our next
encounter.