Young Cassandra looked with some satisfaction at the paper handed back to her. An "A" was inscribed there in red marker, followed somewhat enigmatically she thought, by "Please see me after class." Idly she flipped through the essay, revelling in the little compliments written in the margin. "Great use of metaphor," was one, "Excellent ironic overtone," another. Never mind that she had never intended a metaphor, let alone an ironic overtone, she pondered. If Mr. Jamieson had seen them, all the better for her.
No, It was the hastily scribbled footnote, that had her curious. Maybe he wanted to save her paper as an example for next year's class? Shrugging, she packed up the rest of her belongings with everyone else, letting the happy if not eclectic Friday chatter swirl around her.
Finally the bell rang and there was a frantic rush for the door. Cassandra longed to join her friends but she could hardly overlook the directive from her teacher. So instead she sat at her desk and watched him sort through some notes. His eyebrows arched in concentration, furrowing his broad forehead; he blew a lock of unruly brown hair out of his eyes from time to time. He wasn't she decided, an unattractive man!
Just as Cassandra was starting to believe he'd forgotten his note, he looked up and focused his attention on her.
"Miss Peters, please come here." Surprised by the sternness in his voice, Cassandra walked up to his desk. His looked at her solemnly.
"Honestly Miss Peters, I don't know what to do with you. You haven't attended seven classes this semester, and the absences aren't excused. I have to say that yes, you have turned in every assignment and to be honest, blown me away with your writing skills. However, with the end of the semester approaching I must warn you that you have only a C-minus in this class. Attendance I'm afraid, is unavoidably twenty percent of the grade."
Cassandra gaped at him. "A C-MINUS? But Mr. Peters, my parents expect me to get into Princeton...I MUST have an A."
Mr. Peters sighed, "I don't know what you want me to say Cassandra. Did you really expect to pass this class with flying colors based on your essays alone?"
Cassandra bit her lip and stared at the floor. Yes, she had hoped that might be the case, she realised. The reality was just too much for her and she began to cry.
"It wasn't my fault Mr Jamieson," she sobbed, "Mom had to spend a lot of time in hospital after the auto accident and I just needed to stay at home to help out. Dad doesn't get back till real late and I had to do the cooking....everything." Backing up to the nearest desk she slumped forlornly in the wooden chair. "You CAN'T give me a C-Minus....please!!"
He looked at her compassionately.
"They're not my rules Cassandra," he responded slowly. "They are set down by the educational bodies and however much I wish I could change them for you, I can't! I know about the accident, I know you've had it really tough at home for quite a while, but you simply never brought in those signed absentee notes I asked you for. You really have left me no choice here."
Silent tears running freely now down her pretty face she looked across at him. Even with full attendance and three more straight "A"s, the best she could hope for come end of semester was a B plus. It wasn't enough. Crying wasn't going to address the situation she realised. When 'you're desperate' she reasoned, you use whatever tools are available.
"Won't you please reconsider Mr Jamieson," she asked softly "I'll do anything - absolutely anything you want."
The balance of power was definitely shifting. This was a situation completely outside the thirty-five year old teacher's experience. Even as he responded, the uncertainty in his voice was evident.
"Are you meaning what I think you're meaning Cassandra?" he all but stuttered.
She just stared hard at the desktop. "I have to get an "A" in English Mr Jamieson, don't you understand that? I have to"
He looked at her with a kaleidoscope of emotions running unchecked through his grey matter. Despite the fact he was a decent man with a strong moral fiber, the truth was he now realised, that Cassandra appealed to him over and above that which might be considered appropriate in any teacher-student relationship. Whilst he had never actually gotten to the stage of contemplating any sort of marital infidelity in the past, he had to admit that on more than one occasion, the sight of this particular student's curvy little bottom exiting the classroom, had imprinted itself on his subconcscious.
"I don't think that is really what you want Miss Peters," he announced with little assurance, realising even as he spoke, that the statement made no reference to any reticence from his own standpoint. If any retreat had been planned - no one had mentioned it to the cavalry!
The girl stood up and was staring at her teacher with a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation.
"We could both be dismissed, you know?" he muttered. She nodded but took no backward step. The prominent blush in her cheeks he found most attractive.
"Think maybe I had better take some precautions," he added nervously, intentionally avoiding all eye contact as he walked past her, to the far end of the room, whereupon he turned the key in the lock.
Having regained the relative security of his own desk, he sat in the chair and motioned to Cassandra to step forward. Hands at her sides, she approached him.
Observing the girl more with studious appraisal than any lustful intent, he took in her slim figure, pretty rather than overt breasts, beautiful facial features that at just eighteen now, had blossomed to technical adulthood. She looked considerably younger he mused. Patting his knee, he extended an arm towards her.
Sensing his own extreme lack of confidence under the circumstances, she allowed herself to be drawn down on to his lap, where the playing field was anything but level, she couldn't help but notice. As her flush deepened and he in turn became aware of the reason for such, he decided that time was of the essence. Galvanised into action by a combination of her youthful femininity and the sensation of so sexy a little bottom atop his crotch, he allowed himself the luxury of slipping an arm around her waist.
He felt her tense-up but figuring this was no time to be indecisive, slipped his hand upwards and enclosing the girl's entire right breast, squeezed the softness within. Letting out a shocked gasp she instinctively pulled his hand away.
"I think the words you used were 'I'll do absolutely ANYTHING you want' were they not Cassandra?"
