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

[barrabas]

Our panic deepened, as we watched the tradesman's deft fingers work the double knot that secured Jack's school tie tightly between Mrs Jones' lips. Somewhere within that fear, a wave of pre-emptive disappointment swelled up as well. Our last chance at a stunt like this, about to end, barely more successful than our first attempt the day before. Mrs Jones' steely gaze moved slowly from boy to boy as she patiently waited to be unmuzzled, the red fluster on her cheeks cooling as she seemed to be preparing herself for an apocalyptic admonishment. I tried to stand my ground, as best I could but even Jack took a step back as his cocky composure continued to crack.

"Sorry, lads, but enough's enough", the man said sternly as the first knot loop of necktie was loosened from the back of Mrs Jones' neck and we saw the tension leave the corners of her lips. The man's brow furrowed slightly as he struggled with the second knot.
"Bloody hell" he muttered under his breath. Mrs Jones winced as some of her hair was briefly caught in the loop, and her composure slipped a little. She puffed in controlled frustration, hip jutting out, heeled right foot tapping once on the pavement. I felt my heartbeat rise as the man continued his efforts, moments away from unleashing the full force of Mrs Jones wrath. Thinking back on it, I don't know why we didn't just run, hoping our disguises would render us unidentifiable. But we didn't.

The tapping of that heeled foot grew more repetitive, the round hip more pronounced as Mrs Jones bent her opposite knee.
"Wll yrr hrrry rrrp?", she grumbled, her teacherly tone of annoyance now directed at the tradesman behind her. He raised his eyebrows, a little taken aback, but by the looks of it, suitably admonished. With a look of relief and mild triumph, he finally undid the last tangled bit of tie.
"There", he sighed. "You've had your fun, but this isn't the right way to go about it." Mrs Jones nodded, still trying to work the untied length of school colours out of her mouth with her teeth and tongue.
"For a start", he continued, "you made it far too easy for this bossy missus to still order people around." Mrs Jones' eyes nearly doubled in size when she heard this. She immediately opened her mouth in shocked disapproval and as she did, the man, whose hands had never left the ends of the red and black tie, gave a hard, sharp tug in opposite directions.

"Rrrrrggggg!!!" Mrs Jones gagged reflexively as the fabric was jerked deep between her jaws, pulling the corners of her mouth inwards so tightly her lips were drawn back over her teeth. Her cheeks were forced upwards, as he secured the knot again, forming a permanent scowl around her eyes. In stunned silence she stood for a moment.
"Now", the man said to Mrs Jones, while his friend tried very hard to control his shock and laughter, "maybe this will teach you not to growl orders at people who are only trying to help."
Garbled snarls came from the distorted face of Mrs Jones, and she attempted a stiff kick in the direction of his shins. Her skirt stopped her heeled foot from reaching it's target and he hopped back, chuckling to himself.
The other tradesman smirked. "Right, I think we should leave these lads to it."
Mrs Jones eyes bulged again in astonishment, as we began to surround her. She shot a half pleading, half fuming look at the two men, who just chuckled again, as our hostage lashed out at us with more futile kicks.

[Ianc1980]

Glad you continued this tale! Nice to see you back!

[Gooner97]

Fun stories ! I like the idea...hope they get away with it

[barrabas]

As the two tradesmen continued on their way, the four of us did our best to surround Miss Jones, still keeping a few feet away to stay out of range of the occasional angry kick, halted half way by the limits of her skirt. The growled words she tried to form through the strain the tightened necktie was putting on her mouth had the rhythm of complete sentences, and occasionally I could interpret a noise as referencing 'trouble', 'suspension'' and at one point I think 'idiots'. I tried to explain to her that she couldn't technically suspend students from outside her school, and that actually our plan was quite clever, but I don't think she appreciated the critique.

The street was empty again now, but we knew that wouldn't last. On top of that, we only had a limited amount of time until lunch break started, both schools would be filled with the movement of students and teachers, and Mrs Jones absence may begin to be noticed. I didn't think we'd have much chance strong-arming her swiftly and quietly to the 'safehouse', we'd barely got her this far, so it was time to dispense with a little dignity. I nodded at Dave and he half lumbered/half swooped in towards Mrs Jones, her kicking thigh bumping his chest, as he ducked low and with an arm around the back of her upper legs, heaved her up over his shoulder.

Straightaway I could tell he was finding this a lot harder than keeping hold of the petite Miss French. Dave lost his balance almost immediately, but corrected himself, shifted the weight of her body a little and braced himself again. Her lower legs kicked up and down wildly but he kept a firm grip around her hamstrings and focused on not letting her slide off his back. There was simply more woman to keep a hold of, and he wasn't able to walk very fast whilst still managing the load.

I nodded at Mark this time and he read my mind instantly.
"We're going to have to give him a hand," I said, but Mark was already moving next to Dave, arms out, ready to hold our strict and struggling school ma'am. Dave loosened his grip a little, allowing Mrs Jones to straighten up and then slide through his arms about half a foot. She stopped when her meaty buttocks reached his forearm, serving as an anatomical break pad, and then Dave pivoted her quickly so her upper body moved towards Mark. She'd stopped wriggling for a moment and had gone quite silent as she seemed to focus on not falling onto the pavement above everything else. Mark got a firm hold on her torso from behind, wedging his arms under her ample chest and doing his best to pin her arms to her sides. I moved to the opposite end and wrapped my arms around her calves to stop her legs from kicking. The proximity of Mark's arms to her ample bosom had animated her again and her heeled and hosed fit had become dangerous weapons again.

"I've got an idea," Jack said. "Hold still."
Before I could react Jack had his hands by my neck and was starting to remove my tie.
"Hold those legs together, still as you can", he said, and no sooner had he freed my tie than he was forming a slip knot with it and looping around Mrs Jones' slim ankles, tightening with a tug that made her patent heels squeak as they rubbed together, and then cinching it securely with a neat knot. With all limb movement now restricted, Mrs Jones began to wriggle and squirm like a worm, so angry she was briefly able to bare her teeth from behind where the gag was pulling her lips over them.

"We're going to have to run," Jack stated. "Through the side entrance, round between the science block and staff building, and then straight to the old maths room. It's not the sneakiest route, but it's the quickest and I don't fancy our chances if we waste any more time."
Even as he said it I could feel my muscles starting to tire a little under the powerful struggles of nearly 6 feet of furious headteacher. And so, before another person or car could come down the road and with the garbled rages of Mrs Jones in our ears, we made a run for it.

[Caesar73]

Nice continuation - I wonder what the boys will do next

[barrabas]

It took every last ounce of our strength to keep from dropping Mrs Jones. It was like trying to hold on to a person sized fish. She wriggled and bucked and squirmed and thrashed around despite our best efforts to keep her still. Whatever qualms she previously had about drawing attention to her embarrassing situation must have dwindled, as she would occasionally let out a gag distorted tirade of what sounded like threats and reprimands. Nonetheless, with Jack out ahead as look-out and door-opener, we were able to traverse the perimeter of the staff building and risk the low windows of the science block where an eagle eyed student might just spot the sight of our stumbled half run (and if they were very lucky, a glimpse of glossy calf or skirted hip). It was one final push along the open space of the quad and we were under the cover of an arched corridor that lead into the old maths block.

One or two of the rooms upstairs were in occasional use, but no one except the cleaners had stepped inside our ground floor 'safehouse' in forever. It was tucked away around the corner of an internal corridor, so not a soul would come down this way unless they were specifically looking for this one old room. Jack led the way and paged the unlocked door for us as we bundled the Mrs Jones inside. Jack closed the door behind us and immediately began checking the blinds. The occasional person might walk past the windows, but if we kept the glass covered and our hostage silent then there should be nothing to worry about. With a mighty heave we unceremoniously dumped Mrs Jones into the straight backed chair behind the teachers desk and stopped to catch our breath.

Mrs Jones glowered at us with narrowed eyes and shifted her weight in the chair until she was sitting upright. She tossed her head in an attempt to tidy her hair and then just sat there, silently, trying to maintain some level of dignity.
"Jesus Christ", wheezed Mark, "that's the hardest work out I've had all year. Who would have thought there'd be a downside to a woman with a big arse."
Mrs Jones made a low growl in response to this.
"One last thing to do", I said, "and then we can rest. Get here secured to that chair, and take the ransom photo."
"Secure her with what?" asked Mark, "all our supplies are still in Jack's bag back across the road."
"Rrrddrrrtss..." muttered our captive.
"Anyway we can make that tighter," Mark grumbled, annoyed.
"No, but I think you've solved our problem, take your tie off," I said. "You too Dave, take off your tie then keep her in that chair."

Mrs Jones became animated again, bounced herself upright and began hopping towards the door. She bent down, sticking her chest and buttocks out, then straightened and jumped about a foot forward, and bent over again as her heels clacked loudly against the floor. She did not get far before Dave caught her mid air, carried her a few feet and plonked her right back down in the chair. She resisted a little, but clearly tired out herself, her heart was no longer in it. There was a cold resignation in her expression as she looked straight ahead, unable to conceal the quiet rage behind her stoic posture. With Dave holding her by the shoulders, I took the tie he had just removed, looped it under her bosom, threaded it through the slats in the chair, tightened it as firmly as I could, then knotted and secured it. Instinctively Mrs Jones gave a little wiggle of her torso to test her range of movement. Her shoulders could still move around but her back was pressed right up against the chair back.

While I was double checking the knots, Jack took Mark's tie, formed a slip knot and looped it around her ankles. She did kick at him a little while he did this, and try to get her legs out of the way, but to no avail. He tightened the loop, cinched it, and then ran the excess under the chair, pulling her lower legs back with it. He needed Mark's help with the pull - this woman was strong - but quickly tied the remainder around the horizontal support between the chair legs. She tested out this bond as well, but found no wiggle room. She could still shift her ass and thighs around on the seat, but only slightly. None of us really minded this, as it showed off the curve of her hips and thighs as they tapered down to her knees. In the seated position, her skirt was much tighter around her body, right up against the muscles of her legs. Not a bad sight to keep an eye on for her period of incarceration.

"Right, who's going to take the photo?" I asked.
"I'll do it, hold on," Jack answered. "Wait. No. Shit. Shit shit shit. Fuck!"
We all turned to face him, Mrs Jones scowling again in reaction to the blue language.
"Oh shit, I am so sorry. It's my phone. It's in my bag, the bag of tricks. Back in her office."
We all stood in silence, processing this.
"If someone calls that phone, and it goes off, no one is going to answer. And if someone hears it, they are going to go right into that office and notice she's gone. And if they find my student ID in my phone case..." He looked at his watch. "We've got about 20 minutes, I can get there in 5, be back in 5, plenty of time before the schools break for lunch, plenty of time before anyone begins to look for her. Easy right?"
Before we had finished nodding, Jack had shot out the door and was gone.
"Well shit..."

Five minutes passed. Mrs Jones sat stock still, her face a mask of stoic fury. Six minutes. Seven minutes. Eight. And then my phone buzzed. A message, short and messy.
'Emergency! Gwt over hre nw!!11'
"Shit..." I said again...

[Caesar73]

So the Guys pulled it off and have successfully transported the hostage to the lair I wonder though, would not better to remove Mrs. Jones Heels? Those are dangerous weapons

[barrabas]

"Something's happened, boys", I tried to explain to Dave and Mark. "It sounds bad, we need to go after Jack."
Panic appeared on both their faces as curiousity began to cross Mrs Jones' eyes.
"I don't think we can leave her here," Mark said, "even like this. If she gets loose it's going to be all hands on deck."
"I don't know what's going on over the road, it might be more than I can handle alone. Can one of you stay? Dave?"
Immediately, as if trying to capitalise on the chaos, Mrs Jones began to struggle in her seat. Most of her body was tightly secured to the chair, her ankles, lower torso and hands. But she was swinging those mighty hips left and right as far as the wiggle room would let her and we could see the chair start to rock, and a little slack appear in the school tie below her chest.

"Shit." I said again. "Look, I'll go now, and if I need help, I'll message, we've still got a little over 10 minutes. But for now, keep that angry amazon bound, or she'll probably tear us all limb from limb."
And with that, I started to run. With no conspicuous headteacher shaped package to carry, I didn't need to worry as much about my route. Lessons were still in session so a student running across the quad would not raise much suspicion amidst the other muck-up day goings on. I had always been a fast runner and I made back to the other campus in just three minutes. I dashed across the car park, sped down the blissfully quiet entry hall and then turned towards Mrs Jones office. I paused for a brief moment by the door to the waiting area, just to be safe, and could make out a muffled and erratic thumping sound coming from within.

Opening the door I saw the empty waiting room, empty except for a stylish leather handbag sitting on one of the chairs. My attention was immediately turned towards the office itself now, the door was slightly ajar and from within came loud thumping and banging and what sounded like a wild animal locked in combat. When I stepped through the doorway to see what was going on, my jaw dropped.

There was Jack, on the floor in front of Mrs Jones desk, face flushed and with what looked like the beginnings of a nasty black eye over his right eye. He was kneeling down, or trying to, as beneath him, chest down on the floor, legs kicking wildly, hands currently - barely - held together behind her back by Jack, was a blonde woman, early forties, with shoulder length hair and a light tan.
I was still in shock, I couldn't move a muscle.
"Uh, hi." Jack said, with a flustered half smile. "Uh, meet Mrs Taylor."
"RRRRMMFFFMMNNNGGGFFFRRRRR!!!" roared Mrs Taylor, who appeared to have a large wad of newspaper stuffed in her mouth.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs Taylor," Jack said, his voice full of uncharacteristic nerves, his apology genuine. "This is a just a case of wrong place wrong time. Mrs Taylor was Mrs Jones 13:30 appointment", he continued, looking up the clock. "She was a bit early and decided to knock. Saw me, started asking questions, was about to go call a teacher so..."
"FFFFFRRRRRKKKYYYRRRYRRRLLLLRRRSSSSTTRR!", Mrs Taylor tried to shout from behind the news of the day.
"I am really sorry, Mrs T" Jack repeated earnestly. "If you'd just calm down maybe we could explain ourselves?"
Mrs T did not calm down.

As movement began to return to my stunned body I got a good look at the woman flailing around on the floor. Mrs Taylor was maybe around 5'8, with gentler curves than Mrs Jones, and looked like she kept herself toned in the gym. She was wearing a knitted maroon jumper over a white button up shirt, it's cuffs and collar protruding from the sleeves and neck, and adding a little formality to a casual outfit. She had tucked both of these into a pair of snug, blue mom jeans - fitting for someone who certainly had the attitude of a grammar school mother - with a designer leather belt. On her feet were some low heeled ankle boots. After some close calls with the sharp court heels of Mrs Jones, I was grateful to see something that looked a little less weaponised. Jack was straddling her upper thighs, just below a set of round buttocks that stuck out slightly, both his hands keeping her wrists crossed over one another.

"Are you going to help or not?", gasped Jack. "Get the tape from the bag, the bundling tape." Mrs Taylor redoubled her efforts at the sound of this and thrusting her legs out, kicked me squarely in the shin as I tried to cross round the side of the table towards the bag of tricks. Jack lost his balance a bit, but held firm. Cursing under my breath I got to my feet, hearing the crinkling sound of newspaper followed by a spitting noise, and saw Mrs Taylor had manged to force most of page 3 back out of her mouth.
"Newspaper? Really?" I asked Jack.
"It's the only thing I could reach!! She wasn't exactly going to keep quiet until I found something better! Now hurry the fuck up!"
Mrs Taylor's noises were beginning to sound more like words and I could definitely hear a few nouns that would get any of us suspended if we tried to say them in a headteacher's office.

Stumble hopping through the sharp pain on my leg I made it to the bag, unzipped it fully and immediately saw a roll of matt grey electricians bundling tape sitting on the top. I grabbed it, went back round to the front of the desk, and then stood dumbfounded again, having exhausted whatever flight response I briefly tapped into.
"Her legs! Her legs!" Jack hissed.
I dropped to my knees, rolled on my side until my body weight was over her knees and wrapped one arm around her denim covered calves. I pulled out a length of tape, still attached to the roll and just started wrapping over and over and over again around from her ankles up almost a foot in the direction of her knees.

"OK, hands next", Jack instructed. Moving quickly, I unwound some more tape and began to circle just above her crossed wrists where Jack was still holding on to her. After a few turns he released his grip slightly and allowed me to wrap the rest of her wrists, and loop the tape around and in between them as well. With that done, and our muscles burning, we half fell off Mrs Taylor and tried to catch our breath. She continued to buck around, even in her bonds, and turned on her side to get a good look at us.
"RRRRRRLLLLHHHRRRFFFYYYRSSSSPPPNDDRRDDD!" she roared again, still trying to kick at us with her legs.
"About that," Jack said, "sorry Mrs T but I don't think you will. Sorry. Come on, mate, let's finish taping her up and find somewhere to put her."

[Caesar73]

The more the merrier! Nice one [mention]barrabas[/mention] !

[barrabas]

Thanks [mention]Caesar73[/mention]
There was a huge hiatus in between these last few chapters and when I started, so I'm glad to see someone is still reading it. Plan to finish soon and start another story about something different.

[Caesar73]

Thanks @Caesar73
There was a huge hiatus in between these last few chapters and when I started, so I'm glad to see someone is still reading it. Plan to finish soon and start another story about something different.

The hiatus does not show in my opinion - and I´m looking forward to the next part of this story and whatever you will write afterwards