Teacherknapping II: Bigger Game MMMM/FF - Part 10 added 25th June

[barrabas]

This is a sequel to a previous story I wrote a while ago.

http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8 ... b8e3c7d1e1

Been trying to work out what to do with a follow up I I think I've figured it out. So here it is.

As the sun set on the penultimate day of school, it also set on the botched attempt of Jack, Mark, Dave and I to go down in the history books of our school for successfully 'kidnapping' the prettiest teacher on campus. It was going to be a muck-up day prank for the ages, and we would have been remembered as (anonymous) legends for decades to come. Or so our overambitious egos thought. Sadly several factors - bad planning, bad luck and bad knots has scuppered us just before we'd managed to get our quarry (Miss French) over to our safe house (an unused classroom). We were rumbled, had to make a run for it and our soon to be prisoner had escaped.

We sat in the garden at Marks house, lamenting how our last chance to pull off a stunt like the one we planned was over. In one day's time we would be leaving school for good, only to return for exams, and would never be in the position to perform such an archetypal act of heroic anarchy and score a win for students everywhere.
"But why?" Mark asked.
"Why what?" I replied.
"Why exactly was today our last chance?"
"It's pretty fucking clear when you think about it.

1 - We've entirely lost the element of surprise. The entire faculty would have been on high alert tomorrow anyway, it's Muck-Up Day after all, even if today's disaster hadn't happened. But after what happened today I'll be surprised if anything manages to get past them.

2 - We've definitely lost the element of surprise with Miss French. We only managed to get a hold of her by rushing in when she expected nothing and had no clue what was going on.

3 - There is no way we would get away with it. Between our disguises, the raucous support of her class and no doubt Mr Michaels sense of humour when he saw one of his bossiest colleagues getting a little comeuppance, we somehow emerged from the whole thing unscathed and hopefully unidentified. We actually managed to grab, truss up and carry off a teacher who was clearly highly unamused by the whole thing. You all saw Miss French. She was fuming! We could not do the same thing to her again and feign any kind of 'boys will be boys' excuse. She's completely off limits."

"True..." said Jack. "I can't argue with anything you've said. You're absolutely right on all 3 counts. But..." He paused. "But, that doesn't mean we can't still do something legendary. Necessity is the mother of invention, and these new circumstances might just force us to something even bolder."
"It sounds like you have a plan." Said Dave
"Lads" said Jack, "I absolutely do."

[slackywacky]

Good start, let''s see what Jack's plan is.

[Caesar73]

Good start, let''s see what Jack's plan is.

Agreed!

[RopemanSteve]

Dunno what to say about this. They were planning something, but then we're left hanging before the plan is even agreed on.

I really want to know what they're gonna do, but i don't even know that...sure hope wehave more information in part 2....

[barrabas]

Been wanting to write something else for a while, perfectionism and overthinking kept getting in the way. So figured I'd just wing it. Here's the next part:

"There are a few main things we need to go over." Jack started. "What went right - which wasn't much - what went wrong and what options we have now.
Logistically speaking, what did we do right? Making the grab in the middle of a teaching period was definitely the right call. Most if not all the staff will be preoccupied with lessons, the corridors and halls will be empty and we should be able to move the package without being seen or interrupted."

"The package?" Mark chuckled. "What is this, Ocean's Eleven?"
"Hey," said Jack, "those guys were slick and they got the job done. Now listen. We need somewhere to store the package, and I still think that unused classroom in the old building is our best bet. I know there are some nearby rooms in use, but nothing on that small ground floor so there's no reason anyone should be walking by."
"Christ," I said, "you've really put thought into this."
"Someone had to," Jack grinned. "Those two elements were about the only things we did right. The timing and the drop off point. Now let's go over what we did wrong."
Dave who had been looking a little baffled earlier was now narrowing his eyes in focus.

"The grab point," said Jack, "should not be a classroom full of students. As triumphant as it was to be cheered by a crowd as we carted off lovely Miss French, the noise they made then, and the noise they made as an unattended room full of boys, drew too much attention and brought another teacher out into the corridor."
"He didn't seem too bothered" grinned Dave.
"No," I agreed, "but we got lucky. That easily could have been someone less... sympathetic."
We all laughed a little at this then let Jack continue.
"So we need to make the grab somehwere where it's just us and the package."
"Will you stop saying 'the package!' " said Mark.
"Fine. The target then."
"Never mind." Mark rolled his eyes.
Ignoring him, Jack went on. "So we're going to grab her in her office."
"Office? Who..."

Jack cut me off. "I'll get to that, don't worry. Next problem. Knots. No offence Dave and Mark, but you're hardly boy scouts. And neither am I. So we bring something a little easier, faster and more reliable than some old cord from my junk drawer."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Don't worry. I've got us covered. Same goes for if we need keep the target quiet for any reason, and hopefully it won't come to that. So, we have the timing, the tools and the hideout. I think that's addressed the pragmatics. Now, how do we overcome the problems you've pointed out." He looked at me.

"You know what," I said. "I think I might know what you're getting at. Ok, problems 2 and 3: we can't grab Miss French. Easy solution, we grab someone else. Problem 1, our teachers will be much too wary of muck up day shenanigans for us to sneak one away. Solution, we dont target a teacher... at our school."
"Yes!" Jack shouted. The others went wide eyed at first then nodded in impressed consensus. I had the floor now and I was on a roll.

"We thought staging a teacher kidnap would make us legends in our our lunchtime. We picked Miss French because she's gorgeous but she's also a bit too strict. We were getting our own back. Then let's double down on those mission statements. What would really carve our deeds into stone, would be a successful kidnap of an important faculty member from a rival institution. And who do we hate more than the grammar school across the road? Barely a hop, skip and a jump from our very own walls." I could see Jack looking at me intently head bobbing in eager agreement.
"And who is more important over there, than Mrs Jones herself, the Headteacher!"
Dave and Mark looked stunned.
"There's no way in hell we could..."
"Oh ye of little faith. We just have to be very clever, very organized, and nothing will go wrong."
"Where have I heard that before..." muttered Dave.

[Caesar73]

The boys are ambitious, obviously

[RopemanSteve]

Now, we're rolling!

Just one more suggestion...please use paragraphsm for easier reading.

Now...onto the kidnapping!

[slackywacky]

Now...onto the kidnapping!

Think it is a teachnapping

Been wanting to write something else for a while, perfectionism and overthinking kept getting in the way. So figured I'd just wing it.

Good read. For myself, when I write I tend not to overthink or want to make it perfect. I just start writing and the story flows. If I get stuck, I reread some (or all) of the story and I get past it. I do keep track of personalities and such for my longer stories, I don't want somebody suddenly turn into a blond, when she started the story as a redhead

[TamatoaShiny123]

Yay! You’re making the sequel!!!!!!!!

[Dustysmate]

Two "F"s...I like two "F"s . shall there be gaggage?

[barrabas]

It was coming up to 8am as the four of us sat on the wall outside the main car park to our school. Most of the students were filing in after being dropped off by buses or parent's cars, just another morning in a long line of identical mornings to come. Our year however, were turning up in absurd costumes or outlandish disguises, hopping off the back of their mopeds, 3 door junk heaps and in one case a bona-fide tractor. We had a disguise of our own, but it's purpose was not to draw attention to ourselves, quite the opposite in fact. Wearing the same suits we wore to sixth form for the past few years, but with school ties from our rivals across the road in our pockets, infiltration was the name of our game.

The sight on the other side of the street was business as usual. Muck up day had been severely cracked down upon under the stern leadership of Mrs Jones. She had been running the show over there for over 10 years now and had really turned around a place that had developed a reputation in the local area for unruliness and disruptive behaviour. A formidable and officious woman she was nonetheless a really classy person, both in the way she dealt with colleagues and students, and very much in the way she looked. 'Speak of the devil' I thought, as we saw her black Audi smoothly pull into the main gates and swing around to her personal parking spot out front of the front building.

The door opened and we all paid close attention as the figure of Mrs Jones stepped out. The first thing we saw was a sleek, tan, nylon covered calf, still showing a little muscle, step out onto the tarmac in 4 inch nude court heels. The toned curve of her lower leg flexed as the rest of her elegant figure made it's way into the sun. Mrs Jones was only a few years shy of 60 but still an absolute stunner. Standing at around 5'8 even before her ever-present heels were considered, she was a strong looking long-limbed woman. At my uneducated guess she was probably a dress size 12 (that's an 8 for US readers) and her height and gym honed figure gave her an amazonian quality. Someone not be messed with. Her body had filled out a little over the last decade. Her bottom was broad and significant but still looked firm and meaty under her clothes. Her already ample chest had grown a little and her powerful looking hips were curving out considerably in unavoidable contours, without really affecting her waistline. Her skin was always tan and her long bob was dyed strawberry blonde. Finally, her face had a sort of feline grace to it, while still conveying a kind of accessible beauty with a sense of maturity and age.

As she straightened up I took a proper look at the outfit our target was wearing today. A snug pale blue, long sleeve woolen v-neck top that showed the barest hint of cleavage, and hugged her chest gently. This was tucked into a pale grey pencil skirt, belted high at the waist with a matching fabric belt, and settling just at the knee. Although not as figure huggingly tight as she might have worn as a younger woman, it was still fitted to her form, rested over her pneumatic hips and generous backside, and, luckily for us, seemed to limit her gait just slightly.

We watched her disappear into the main entrance door and went over the plan. Through that door and down the corridor on the right was the head teacher's office. Her office. There was an small waiting area outside this room where people who had an appointment to see her would sit, whether they were a student in trouble or a colleague with a query. She kept a list of appointment slots outside her door to keep interested parties abreast of her availability and we knew that currently the 12:30 to 13:30 window was marked off as N/A. We had to get to her just before 12:30, at the end of her last meet before lunch, to ensure a private audience with the head honcho herself. Wearing our appropriated school ties to enter the premises without raising suspicion, our ruse was simple in theory. We would put on some simple but cartoonish 'bandit' masks, bandannas and the like, be upfront about where we were from, and then claim to be collecting money for charity. It's at this point we would tell her she was being kidnapped in the name of a good cause, and maybe, just maybe she would go along with it.

Jack adjusted the bag over his shoulder. Inside was a variety of quick binding methods should we be required to limit our targets maneuverability, but who knows, perhaps it wouldn't even come to that, and she would come quietly back to our hidden HQ. Giving the premises one last look over from a safe distance we melted into the crowd of our own peers and headed into school to relax for the next few hours. The time flew by like it was minutes, not hours, and before we knew it, we were walking determinedly across the pavement, ties around our necks, and confidently stepping through the main doors over the road. We went down the corridor, peeked into the waiting room to see it empty, stepped inside, put on our silly 'masks' and walked right in though Mrs Jones' door.

[Caesar73]

And so the Plot unfolds. The Boys have some nerve walzing right in Enemy Territory

[noggip]

Cannot believe you went on with writing this story! Great stuff!

[Dpsiic]

Like the way this shaping up

[barrabas]

To begin with Mrs Jones didn't even look up from her desk. Her entire attention was focused on the pile of paperwork in front of her and without skipping a beat or interrupting her work flow she said
"I'm sorry but you'll need to comeback this afternoon..."
It was at this point her sharp eyes, outlined in thivk eyeliner and peering up from beneath full lashes, clocked who was standing in the room with her. Her expression was initially curious but confident.
"Boys, what on earth are you doing in such ridiculous get-up... Wait. I'm not sure I recognise any of you. In fact I don't, so I'd explain yourselves very quickly if I was you."
She was sharp as a tack, and I could feel a sense of worry that our confidence trick would not get past such a shrewd teacher as Mrs Jones.

It was at this point that Mark stepped up to the plate and went straight into our opening gambit. He stated plain and simple that we were from across the road, in the middle of our muck-up day (at the mention of this her stern eyes rolled disapprovingly) and were collecting money for charity. I felt I could see a barely perceptible shift in her expression here, as if the smallest amount of interest had been peaked. She adjusted her self in her chair and I caught a glimpse of the shape of her seated thighs encased in her skirt. Once again I was pleased to be wearing sunglasses.

"Where's your collection bucket then?" She asked skeptically. Mark continued by explaining, with a wicked glint I hoped she hadn't noticed, that this was not how they did things. Then, cool as a cucumber he calmly said that our money was going to come from a high profile ransom demand, and that if she would be so obliging, she was coming with us as our hostage.

Initially Mrs Jones looked genuinely surprised, not expecting to hear what she heard and not knowing quite what to make of it. After a tense and interminable pause she sighed and said
"Boys, while I admire your... enterprising charitable spirit, I am simply much to busy. And besides, it is entirely inappropriate and frankly unacceptable to barge into a senior member of staff's office, of a school you do not even attend, and make demands, regardless of the philanthropy of the reason. Nonetheless, a good cause is a good cause, and I will donate something towards it in an act of good faith that you will not pull a stunt like this again."

"That's hardly in the spirit of..." Mark was immediately cut off by an icy glare that could freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Mrs Jones rose from her desk chair and I watched her skirt fall against her hips. She then took a few confident steps across the room to where her handbag hung from a coat rack and reached inside for her chequebook. My eyes followed her unavoidable backside as she want back to her desk and lent over it ever so slightly, her skirt rising only an inch but enough to see the back of her nylon covered knees.

"There," she said, "that should do it. Now boys, get out of my office." She handed the cheque to Mark, who did his best to hold her intimidating gaze. A difficult task, but an important one, for as he did so Dave and Jack had crept up behind her, in front of her desk, as Jack quietly lifted something out of his bag of tricks.

"Well?" Mrs Jones intoned. She moved her hands up from her sides to rest on her hips, and as she did so I saw Dave, with uncharacteristic speed, firmly put his hands over her lower forearms and smoothly pulled them together behind her back. Before she could even react I heard a clack-clack sound and Jack snapped a pair of solid short linked handcuffs around her wrists. There was a moment where time stopped and then Mrs Jones eyes narrowed to a scowl both terrifying and honestly quite sexy.

"This is a very bad idea boys" she growled.
"I'm sorry Miss," I said, "but you're coming with us."

[Ianc1980]

They got her!

[Bandit666]

Now you’ve really got my attention and I’m looking forward to seeing just where you take this tale of misadventure next, keep up the good work

[Caesar73]

Well, Mrs. Jones is in for a surprise Nicely done by the boys!

[barrabas]

"I am not going anywhere boys, now take these off me immediately" demanded Mrs Jones in a tone I couldn't quite discern. She was annoyed, perhaps suspicious, but despite her predicament was still the high status figure in the room. She had not moved a muscle since Dave and Jack had handcuffed her wrists together behind her back. Due to the short three link chain on the cuffs themselves her arms had been pulled pretty close together, drawing her shoulders back and pushing her full chest out just a little. Her heeled feet were planted firmly on the ground and I could see tension in the muscles on her legs. The shine of her tights highlighted the slight definition in her smooth and athletic calves. She was rooted to the spot.

Despite being nearly 60 she really was a gorgeous woman. Not in the way someone might normally compliment an older woman, by suggesting they look younger than they are. Although Mrs Jones had aged gracefully and maintained a great figure, she was still clearly a woman her age, there was something about her that just conveyed matured beauty. Especially dressed so smartly, her hands locked behind her where they couldn't cause any trouble for us.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," I said, "it just wouldn't be the charitable thing. No other hostage will fetch a price as high as you, and we really do want to do the right thing."

Mrs Jones looked back and forth between me and Mark, not even acknowledging the two boys behind her who were more directly responsible for her current restraints. There was another pause as if she was choosing her words very carefully before she spoke again through gritted teeth.

"I am not going to debate the merits of this foolish idea with you, nor am I going to permit such an egregious disregard for my authority under the auspices of 'the right thing'. I am going to ask you one more time to take these off and you, are going, to do it!"

It was our turn to be silent this time and when no reply and no action came from our end she showed the first sings of losing her composure. She took a half step forward, her heel clopping down hard as she did so, and twisted to one side, manicured fingers reaching up towards the steel securing her hands. She was trying to get loose! Setting his bag down, a briefly nervous looking Jack stepped closer to inspect the cuffs and make sure they were secure. Of course they were, Mrs Jones was not getting out of these without the key.

During some minor squirming and bending, I watched her hips and bottom push against the limits of her suit skirt as she moved around trying to get herself loose. Standing still the outfit hinted at her bodies details, resting gently over the top of her curves just below where it cinched in tightly at her waist. But when she moved everything came into clearer perspective. Sadly she gave up and returned to a straight backed position, trying to regain composure and control.

"If you had any idea how much trouble you are in you would..."
"No time for that" Mark said, "we're on a deadline. Now let's get moving while the corridors are still quiet."
"Absolutely not, HEY!" snapped Mrs Jones and Dave and Mark each took hold of an upper arm and began to usher her towards her office door.
"Let go of me this instant! I am the headteacher at this school, and even if you are not my students you are still students and you will do what I say!"
"I'll bear that in mind" Jack said and continued to move her in a direction she did not want to go. She wriggled her shoulders trying to get free of their grip, but they moved with her and held her fast. She tried planting her feet and pushing back with her legs but between the high heels, the strength of her captors and her fitted skirt this didn't slow down progress that much.

As we maneuvered her out into the waiting area her movements became more animated. She would tug hard in one direction with her torso, causing Dave to almost stumble and lose his hold for a moment. She would bend quite far forward, offering me and Mark a glimpse of cleavage and Dave and Jack much more than a glimpse of the full width and breadth of her arse tightly squeezing against the skirt.

The strong arming continued up to the door to the corridor. Mark and I checked to see if the coast was clear and we counted ourselves lucky that the bulk of her protests had been non verbal and not too loud. I doubt anyone who wasn't immediately outside would have heard anything. More good luck, nobody in sight. It had been slow going so far, so making the most of the clear coast, Mark and I gave Dave a hand frogmarching Mrs Jones through the last stretch of her campus. At one point we practically lifted her off the ground and for a brief moment her legs kicked and dangled in the air. Her skirt stopped them from reaching our shins or even more vulnerable areas.

I began to wonder why she had been so quiet, aside from the grunts and growls, yet had been struggling up a storm, and then it hit me. She wanted to get free, she was fighting like a wildcat, but she had worked very hard earning a reputation as someone not to be messed with. If she drew too much attention to herself, and some faculty or worse, students saw her getting dragged off by a bunch of students, from a different school, despite her protests... That would definitely tarnish her image. Now I understood those periods of silence back in her office. The second those cuffs were on she was in a position she wanted no one in school to see her in, and needed to find a way out of the situation on her own.

We made it to the main doors and out into the sun. We all looked around, including Mrs Jones, all of us strangely hoping the car park and main gates were clear of staff and students. Luckily, once again they were. Still squirming and kicking and stamping and grunting and delivering looks that would kill an elephant, Mrs Jones had been successfully taken off site and out into the street. It would only take a minute to get her over the road. There were no cars coming in either direction and we crossed quickly.

The last few minutes had been so smooth we didn't notice that a couple of men, tradesman from a site down the road were walking directly towards us. Dave clocked it first. "Shit!" he blurted out, and I saw Mrs Jones immediately turn her head and notice them. A rising feeling of dread grew in my stomach, as Mrs Jones, now clear of the building where she could not call for aid, lifted up her head and called out
"Hey! Hey! HELP!"

[barrabas]

Dread became panic as we all looked up the street at the two men who were approaching. They were in the middle of a conversation at the moment and it didn't look like they'd heard us. They were too far away to make out their expressions though, so I couldn't be sure. Mrs Jones redoubled her efforts to get loose and get their attention.
"Shit" Jack said and reached over his shoulder to grab his bag of tricks and then a look of realisation spread across his face. "Shit," he muttered again, "shit shit shit. I've left it in her office." My mind jumped back to a few minutes ago and I saw it all perfectly. Jack had set down his back when he went to check on the security of the handcuffs. And he hadn't picked it up again. Our plan had gone so smoothly up to this point, of course something was bound to go wrong and of course it would be down to sloppiness and overconfidence and out part.

"Fuck." I said out loud. Despite the predicament she was in and despite the immediacy of the current turn of events, the disciplinarian in Mrs Jones still found time to glare at me for what I'm sure was the use of bad language. The moment passed though and she turned her attention back to the task at hand.
"Hey. Hey! I'm being kidnapprrrrrrggggg!" Quick as I flash I saw Jack had removed his school tie, the tie from Mrs Jones' own school, whipped it over her head and pulled it between her teeth. Her head leaned back a little as it pulled on the corners of her mouth and forced her lips to close over it, as Jack tied off the knot at the back. Surprise, disbelief and annoyance could all be seen in her face. For a woman so intelligent it can't have been lost on her that the thing that had turned her calls for aid into garbled noises bore the colours of the school she was in charge of.

Unfortunately, with his attention entirely on knotting off that tie, Jack had had to let go of her arm. So with one mighty wrench Mrs Jones managed to pull herself free and began trotting towards the men as fast as her skirt and heels would allow her. By this point the men had definitely noticed her, but before we headed off after her, we couldn't help watching her broad bottom wiggle as she made her escape. Snapping out of this we sped off after her, but by the time we caught up she had already reached them and was trying to explain what had happened through the gag. Both men looked a little dumbfounded, but I'm certain I noticed their eyes lingering on her legs, her hips and her chest as they looked her up and down. As she 'talked' she kept twisting her hands around as much as she could to how where she had been cuffed. Both tradesmen still looked incredulous, this was not a sight anyone would expect to see and it took a while for them to process the absurdity of it all I think.

"Who did you say you were again?" one of the men asked.
"Thrrrr hrrrdd trrrcchhrrr!"
"Your head teacher boys?" he asked us.
Mrs Jones shook her head, gestured over the road and tried to pronounce the name of her school.
"It's for charity" Mark explained, trying to sound as calm as possible.
"Is that right?" the man asked Mrs Jones. She nodded her head in an unthinking act of honesty then realised what she had done.
"Brrrrt urrrr dnnnnt agrrrrr trrrr thhrrfff!" she tried to clarify.
For a moment I thought I saw a small smirk appear in the corner of their mouths, but it was instantly replaced by very serious expressions.
"Look," the other one said, "I get that this is your last day at school, and we've all got up to mischief when we were younger, but we can't approve of what you're doing, especially with such a lovely and very important woman." After he said this, the first man walked over to behind Mrs Jones and started untying the knot behind her head.

[Ianc1980]

Noooooo... what is this guy doing?!?!

[ninterz]

Another great story that has no end

[barrabas]

I will get to finishing it soon. Time and life got away from me.

[Ianc1980]

No worries, thanks for keeping us posted!

[Dpsiic]

Looking forward to more of this