I decided that the time had come to get back at old Miss Turner, the teacher of English who had made my life miserable ten or twelve years ago.

She had to be humiliated and made to feel totally inferior to the strong, handsome male who would soon make her his prisoner.

A week later I waited in the shrubbery which grew just outside the front door of her block of flats.  My fingers nervously fumbled with the freezer bag which held a chloroform-soaked rag with which I hoped to immobilize her.

A car drew up. I soon discerned that it belonged to her.  She got out clutching two supermarket carrier bags.  This was going to be easier than I had thought.

Soon she had let herself into the foyer and had begun to make her way upstairs.  I leapt forward and managed to grasp the exterior door before it had time to close.  I was in and breathing heavily, but I had no time to catch my breath, I had to reach her flat before she got safely inside.

I was in luck, for as I ascended the stairs I could see her fumbling with her keys.  I pulled down my ski-mask, took out the rag, stepped silently behind her and put her to sleep with the minimum of fuss in a few seconds.

I stopped momentarily to see if anyone nearby had heard anything.  All was silent and her key was handily placed in the lock.  I turned it, opened the door and then pulled my prisoner inside.

Her coat had come open and I watched with some satisfaction the rise and fall of her large breasts, smooth and very round and covered by a light blue jumper.

I felt sudden surprise as my cock began to grow.  How could it respond in such a fashion to a person I so despised?  Then I looked closer and decided that the bitch wasn’t that old after all; touching forty maybe, and not that unattractive.

She groaned softly.  I didn’t have too much time to waste.

I removed her coat and then pulled her over to a settee and lay her across it.  I rolled her onto her stomach, took her arms and pulled them behind her back.  Taking one of my coils of rope I fastened her wrists, tightly cinching between them.  A second rope was used to pull her arms close together just above her elbows and knotted off.  I turned her on to her back and couldn’t help but notice that her large breasts jutted further out than they had before and I believed that I could see the shape of a nipple.

She moaned.

Quickly I took the soft woollen scarf that lay with her coat and tied it around her mouth -- it wasn’t a perfect gag, but it would suffice for the time being.

Next came her legs.  I left her shoes on and tied her ankles together, again cinching tightly between them.  My fingers reached for the hem of her calf-length skirt and began to raise it.  Slowly, slowly more of her nylon clad legs were exposed.  My penis became harder and longer as I reached midway up her thighs and saw the tops of her stockings and the nubs of her suspenders.

I bound her legs just above her knees and then couldn’t resist pulling her skirt further up than my tying required.  I could see from the solidness of her suspenders that she was wearing something restrictive and was soon proved to be right.  A girdle peeped from beneath a pair of very sensible, plain white panties.  Everything about her underpinnings indicated order, cleanliness and neatness.  Her knickers were startling in their whiteness and the girdle looked as though it had just come out of its store wrappings.

I couldn’t resist it, I cupped her pubic area with the palm of my hand and it came away faintly damp.

At that moment Miss Turner grunted and swooned in a very lady-like way.  She tried to turn and when she became aware that her limbs were restricted her eyes suddenly opened widely.  She attempted to scream through the scarf and partly succeeded, her breasts began to heave and her nipples became very prominent beneath her brassiere and soft woollen jumper.

I raised my finger to my lips and shook my head.  At that she gave up trying to scream, but I could see that she was trying to wriggle free of her bonds.  I was now in something of a quandary.  If I spoke she might just remember my voice from years back.  I decided to risk it by lowering my voice and making it rougher than it normally is.

"Lay still, lady -- nothin’ bad’s goin’ to happen to you -- if you lie quiet."

She gave up wrestling with my well tied knots.  I gave a silent sigh of relief and then returned to the sight of my captive.

Her skirt was now flared well above her waist, she looked so helpless that I almost reached for the elastic of her panties, but held myself back, I had all night, there was no rush. 

However, I couldn’t resist running my forefinger along her vaginal slit, which was showing through the cotton of her knickers.  As I caressed it I could feel it swelling, widening and growing ever damper.

Miss Turner groaned and began to push her cunt towards my finger.  I was surprised, I’d always though of her as a dried up old stick.  I allowed her to push my finger deeper into her and then abruptly drew it away.  She wasn’t supposed to be enjoying her captivity.

At this point I decided to remove my clothes (apart from my ski-mask, of course) and saw her eyes widen again as she saw the length and weight of my cock.

I leaned over her and pulled her up into a sitting position, using the opportunity to feel the smoothness of her thighs and the contrasting texture of her nylons.  Then I took the welt of her jumper and pulled it up and over her bra.  Her breasts were large, but not too large. 

After a moment’s consideration, I decided to leave her brassiere on, but pull her breasts out of it.  I took one tit at a time and roughly pulled them out of their cups on to the platform provided by her crumpled bra.  Her nipples pointed sharply towards me, hard and very pink.  I took both nipples between my fingers and thumbs and gave a hard pull followed by a twist.

A strong moan of pleasure made its way clear of the gag.  A dose of torture was required, I decided.  I went to the kitchen and soon came back with a couple of clothes pegs which I attached to her nipples. 

Another moan, which gave an indication of even greater pleasure was emitted.

"She’s the one having all the pleasure," I thought crossly.  I removed her gag, took my straining cock and thrust it towards her mouth.  She took it in without any hesitation and immediately put her tongue to work.

Now I was the one making the noises of pleasure as I thrust my penis further into her mouth.

I needed to fuck her before I came.  I withdrew my cock and then took the waistband of her panties and began to draw them very slowly and deliberately down her thighs.  Her underwear could go no further once it reached the rope binding her knees.  I knelt closer as I wished to see exactly what she had between her legs.  There was a jumble of soft pubic hair which only partly concealed a set of wide, red cunt lips.

"Suck me, suck my cunt, pleeeeeease..."

I jumped as though struck in the eye with a blunt ski-pole.  I had forgotten to re-gag her.

Her eyes pleaded with me, "Pleeeeease..." she repeated.

Well, I thought, she obviously doesn’t require re-gagging.  Then I stooped and laid her on her back again, pulling her legs up into an arch.  This allowed me to access her pubic area whilst still keeping her thighs tightly fastened.

My tongue found her crack and began to slip into it.  I sucked and nibbled and probed whilst at the same time my hands were slipping up and down the length of her legs, feeling flesh and suspenders and the magical smoothness of nylon stockings.

She began to pant rhythmically and thrash around as far as her bondage would allow her.

My hand left her legs and reached around them and above to her tits, which I began to pull and squeeze hard, feeling rather than seeing the clothes pins come flying off her nipples.

As I thrust deeper with my tongue there seemed to come a flood of vaginal lubrication, she was, without doubt, ready to be fucked.

I stood up and began to untie her legs as I wished to force wide her wonderful, white thighs.

"John Brown, stop what you are doing this minute."  The voice was firm and commanding, just as I remembered it from her classroom.

Almost involuntarily I jumped to attention, "How did you know it was me?" I asked, plaintively.

"Who else could it be with a voice like Billy Goat Gruff?"

I sat down.  What could I do now?  I was in deep trouble.

Her voice softened, "John, when I asked you to stop, I meant stop untying me."

An awareness of her requirements brought a smile to my lips.  "Don’t you worry, lady, I’m goin’ to re-tie you proper -- in the bedroom..." I said in my best gruff voice.

I untied her legs and led her into the main bedroom.  I had her sit in the centre of the mattress and then after removing her knickers completely I tied her ankles to the corner legs of the bed.  That done, I untied her arms and wrists and removed her brassiere and jumper.

She lay back of her own accord and stretched her wrists towards the corners of the bed head.  I lost no time in tying them in place pulling the cords very tight and making sure that the knots would not slip open.

Miss Turner turned her head towards me and smiled, "I really am your prisoner, aren’t I?"

"Yes, I can do anything I like to you.  Fondle your tits, feel or suck your cunt, torture you or... fuck you hard"

With that I pushed two fingers into her wet vagina.

Again, she used her pelvis to push my fingers deeper, but once again I withdrew them.

"Pleeeease... gag me again -- but this time do a proper job, stuff my knickers into my mouth first..."

I reached for the underwear she had specified and then approached her mouth with them.

"As soon as I’m silenced, please, please, fuck me..."

As usual she had given concise instructions, and after all, who was I to disobey teacher?