Frank Levy: The voyeur teacher

"Fifteen."

"That's better. It was good, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"But it wasn't what you wanted, was it?"

His lips trembled. "You're not going to tell my folks, are you?"

"Not unless I have to. You weren't satisfied with the girls you fucked, though, were you? You had your eyes on your little sister all the time. Let me see, she must have been thirteen or fourteen then. Her breasts must have started to grow. You wanted her, didn't you? You wanted to fuck your sister!"

He nodded his head as if he thought the whole world was going to come falling down on his head if he admitted the truth.

"That's better," she said again, letting her breath out in a sigh. "Now we're getting somewhere. Well, you certainly went about it the wrong way. Did it ever occur to you that your sister might have had the same idea?"

His eyes flew open and his mouth dropped open in astonishment at what she had just said.

"You heard me correctly. Didn't it ever occur to you that your sister worshipped her big, handsome, older brother? Did you ever talk to her or listen to her to find out what she thought? Or did you think you had to use force to get what you wanted? Haven't you always taken what you wanted without thinking about what anyone else wants or would feel about what you wanted to do?"

He broke down and started crying, sobbing openly like a little boy. "What do you want me to do?" he cried out between sobs.

She leaned back in her chair. She was completely in charge now, and already, her feeling of animosity toward the boy was ebbing. She would make things right and make both of them happy, not to mention herself.

"Take your clothes off and come with me," she ordered.

She took him into her private room behind the sitting room. The lights were out, the room pitch black. She felt for the doorknob on a closet there. It was empty, just a plain closet. She guided his naked body into it.

"Wait here in the dark. Wait and think. I will come back to you later."

"Yes, Ma'am," Brant said meekly. He sat down on the floor of the closet, his head spinning with all the things that had just happened to him. He needed a little time to think. For the first time in his life, he had admitted to someone else the fact that he lusted after the body of his own sister. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to understand the fact that he not only lusted after his sister, but loved her too, and wanted her to love him.

Mary Frances left him, not even bothering to lock the door. She knew that he would stay put. She went back into her official sitting room and got ready for step two. First, she picked up the rags of his clothing off the floor and threw them in the trash can. She also hid his suitcase from sight. Then she opened her closet and changed from her business clothes into more comfortable ones. She let her hair down and put on her special perfume. She dimmed the lights, and from her desk drawer she took out a small cardboard box.

She flicked a switch on her intercom and pressed down the bar. "Belinda?"

The girl was waiting in her room as Miss Ferguson had told her. She jumped a little at the sound of the soft voice in her room. Miss Ferguson had told her that something extra special was going to happen that Saturday, but hadn't told her what.

"Yes, Miss Ferguson?"

"Please come to my office, dear."

"Yes, Ma'am." Belinda slid off her bed and headed for Miss Ferguson's sitting room. She was tense and excited, not knowing what was in store for her. When she got excited like that, she felt a little dizzy. Excitement always brought back memories of her brother and that night on the beach. Miss Ferguson had taught her to be able to think about it now instead of drifting back into the haze that she had set up for so long to blot it out, but the memory was still so painful and ugly. Brant shouldn't have done that, not that way, not on the beach with the others there, not hurting her. It all came back again, and tears came to her eyes. She paused to lean against the wall of the corridor and pull herself back together again.

Miss Ferguson was sitting on the chaise lounge when the girl walked into her office. She could see at once that the suspense was working on Belinda's nerves. "Sit down here, dear. You look tired and nervous."

"I am a little, Miss Ferguson. I didn't sleep very well last night."

"You may call me Mary Frances, dear. We are alone and private here. Stretch out here beside me. Did you dream about Brant again, my dear?"

"Yes, I did. I woke up crying, and my heart was pounding. It was just terrible again. Not the way it was supposed to be."

"I have some medicine here for you that I think will make those bad dreams go away. I want you to lie here, very still, and quiet and as relaxed as you can be. I'm going to give you a shot and talk to you while the medicine works. The shot will sting a little, but there won't be any other pain, and you will soon be feeling much better."

The girl lay down on the soft lounge. She tried to relax, but her muscles were still tense and she still had tears in her eyes. Memories are very hard things to live with.

"Take a few deep, slow breaths and relax completely, dear. It is all right. You are completely safe. Mary Frances is here, and she will take care of you. That's just fine. Let yourself go and just relax from the top of your head right down to your toes. Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, Mary Frances," the girl said.

"Now I want you to think of Brant in the days before the incident happened on the beach, before he hurt you. Tell me about him then, dear."

"Brat is so handsome," She giggled. "I haven't called him Brat since I was just a little girl. I couldn't say his name right. He used to call me Lindy before we started to grow up."

"He is so handsome, the handsomest boy there ever was, so strong and tall. I always tagged along behind him. Sometimes he would get very mad at me when I got in his way, but when there weren't any other kids around, he would be so nice to me and hold me and make me feel so good."

"That's what was so wrong when he, he hurt me. He would never have done that to me if there weren't the others there. He could be so mean and cruel when he was showing off in front of the other kids."

Her voice began to rise in mounting anxiety. Mary Frances gave her a little more of the drug and soothed her forehead, closing her eyes with her fingertips and kissing her lips gently.

"Relax, dear, Brant won't hurt you any more. Tell me what it should have been like."

"He should have come to my room in the night the way he would when we were little kids. He should have crawled in bed with me the way we used to. We would talk all night and hug each other and kiss. I would have let him do it then. I wanted him to do it. I remember when his thing would get hard, and he would hold it tight against my leg when we were little. I touched it, and he said it felt good. He should have come to me like that, and I would have made love to him. It would have been so beautiful."

"Think about that, my dear, and rest awhile. Just sleep and relax." The girl's head nodded off in a few seconds, and she was soon breathing deeply and regularly in a sound sleep. Mary Frances leaned over her and began to undress her. She admired the gorgeous lush figure in the dim light, the light, creamy skin, the high, full breasts and lush hips. The delicate hair on her plump pussy. This was a hell of a fine dish to serve up to Brant. He had better prove himself worthy of it. She went to her closet and took out a sheet which she spread over the naked girl's sleeping form.

She went into the back room, leaving the lights off. She opened the door of the closet. In the dim light, she could just barely make out the boy's form squatting in the corner with his head down on his arms. "Lindy is waiting for you," she said softly.