Chapter 4 - Epilog
As the students left for the day, Jenny could hear them commenting about her
body, and what they had done to it, as though she weren't there. To them, she
was just another play toy, to be used as they wished; a token reward for
improving their test scores. Her body ached at the slightest provocation as she
clumsily untied her ankles from the chair legs, and her mind continually
replayed the events of the day. Sitting to undo the knots in the pantyhose
which secured her, her ass felt as though she were sitting on hot coals. The
pinpricks in her breasts stung maddeningly as the heavy orbs swung in rhythm to
her movements, and deep bruises were rising to the surface.
Jenny placed her soiled and torn panties and the remnants of her hose into her
purse, not wishing to have them discovered and perhaps displayed by one of the
students or janitorial staff. Her once beautiful chemise had been reduced to
just so many strips of fabric, so she buried them in the bottom of the trash
can. Her bra was no where to be found and must have been kept by one of the
students as a trophy. Her burgundy dress was wrinkled and showed obvious stains
from where it had absorbed the cum from the many dicks it had served to clean.
She saw it as a reflection of her own body.
She arrived home several hours before her husband, and as she soaked her tired
body in a warm bath, reflected on her options. She was truly afraid of the
consequences she would face if she were to report it and it would surely mean
having to relocate, something she just couldn't ask of her husband. And what if
no one believed her? Anymore, it seemed as though the courts and the press were
more inclined to side with the accused, and who would imagine that an entire
classroom, with the principal's knowledge, was in on the gang rape of a teacher?
Preposterous! And what if Mr. Harper followed up on his threat to make her
disappear? She shuddered at the thought as the warm water and fragrant bubbles
absorbed her fears and pain.
Over the following days, her bruises began to fade, and masking the pain of
moving from her husband was becoming easier. With his new position, he was
rather distracted and didn't really notice her subtle mannerisms. On the third
night after the rape, as he spooned into position behind her, she responded as
naturally as she could to his caresses and subsequent lovemaking, even though
her breasts, and especially her labia, were still very sore.
Halfway through the second week, she received a call from the school board
informing her of her next assignment at the high school for that Friday. She
accepted, and as she hung up the phone, she was filled with trepidation as the
vivid memories began to replay themselves in astonishing detail. She thought
about the fact that she was one week late starting her period. She was never
late! Maybe God really does work in mysterious ways.
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