Mack Tavish - Student_s Bedroom Demonstration

"Beautiful, huh, Miss Avalon?"

Sally Avalon looked up from the display ease of rare coins with words of polite agreement on her lips words which died unspoken when she discovered that Willy Jessel's pale blue eyes were focused not on the exhibit in front of him, but on the generous mounds of her sweater-covered breasts.

Willy was a troublemaker. A disruptive influence. She wasn't at all clear as to why he stayed on at school past the minimum required age. Certainly he was by no means a good student, and spent most of his time, in her classes anyway, staring at the ceiling or murmuring wisecracks or fixing her with an unblinking gaze while patently paying no mind to what she was saying.

Now his eyes met hers insolently, then they flickered away over the coins.

"That right, Miss Avalon worth a whole million?" he asked. "That's what the guys say."

"I believe so," she responded, tight-lipped, and started to walk away.

He was at her side.

"Uh Miss Avalon"

"Yes?"

"I uh seem to be having some kinda trouble with that last assignment you guess I could talk to you about it? I can't seem to uh -"

"Well?" she asked mistrustfully.

"Uh could we go back to the classroom so I can show where I seem to uh "

Duty struggled with inclination, and won.

"Well, I suppose so," she conceded. "Just for a few minutes, though I have an appointment very soon."

"Oh, sure, Miss Avalon," he reassured her eagerly. "It won't take that long. It's just a uh"

They left the assembly hall, Sally nodding politely to the guard who stood by the doorway watching over the extremely valuable display of rare coins and stamps that Peter had lent to enhance the hobbies and handcraft exhibition. She couldn't smother a tiny private smile at the thought of Peter's impetuous, tender marriage proposal last night, his strong hands tilting her face up to his to kiss her soft, wide mouth while he stroked the silky tresses of her shoulder-length blonde hair. Dear Peter!

She had been thinking about it every spare moment since. Or not so much thinking about it as unable to keep it away from her mind. Peter was so handsome, so capable and intelligent. She knew that he was a notorious seducer of willing women yet when she had been true to the principles of her rather rigid upbringing, instead of breaking off the relationship, he had asked her to marry him. Moreover, he claimed that he was delighted by the idea of having a bride who had never slept with any other man who would still be a virgin on the night of their wedding.

Her happiness was slightly clouded just now, though, by the hulking presence of Willy beside her. His big, muscular, eighteen-year-old body seemed just a little too close, radiating a kind of animalistic warmth, a primitive emanation of sensuality that encroached on her space uncomfortably. She wondered fleetingly if she could convincingly find a reason to cancel the few minutes she had promised him but then she pulled herself together. After all, there would be people around the school for a long time yet, especially with the exhibition attracting various visitors.

"Well, now," she said briskly as they arrived in the classroom, "why don't you bring "

"Hold it right there," said a flat-toned voice, and she turned toward the windows. The fire-escape door was open and a short, stocky man stood there.

He had a gun in his hand.

Aimed directly at her chest "Shut your mouth an' keep it that way, see," the man went on. His eyes were a cold, unwavering grayness like an arctic sea. "One peep out of you and them pretty knockers gonna get a couple spare holes in 'em.

She started to turn to Willy for help, but froze when his snicker sounded through the humming of blood in her ears.

"Okay," the man commanded, "just come over here nobody's gonna hurt you long as you just keep quiet and do like I tell you.

She stood paralyzed with fear, unable to move, until Willy goosed her with a blunt forefinger, when she gasped in outrage and stumbled forward suddenly, her eyes fixed upon the barrel of the gun like a mesmerized rabbit's.

"Right down the fire escape. That's it."

The gun was pressed against her back, and he was clutching her upper arm in a grip that was just short of downright painful They descended to the ground and he guided her toward the main gates, where a large car stood with doors open, engine running, a man poised in readiness behind the wheel.

Slowly the man with the icy gray eyes raised the gun, and the chilly metal pressed against her temple.

She fainted.

She heard a voice through the swirling darkness that enfolded her.

"Easy as fallin' off a log."

Her eyelids felt as though they had been glued shut.

"One look at Jake with that gun against her head and they just opened up them glass cases and handed over all them coins without a murmur," the voice went on exultantly.

"But what you have ta go bringin' her along for?" grumbled another voice. "That's a fuckin' kidnappin' rap.

"Look, I told ya, if the cops find us while we're waitin' for Miles to show, we're gonna need a hostage to bargain. They ain't gonna risk gettin' her killed. Don't be so fuckin' dumb, Jerry. Shit, they'd be chasin' us right now if we didn't have her along with us."

They were talking about her, she realized incredulously. They had kidnapped her; they had stolen Peter's coins and stamps and they were holding her as a hostage No, oh, no! This was ridiculous! It was like one of those idiotic television shows! Things like this didn't happen in real life! She would just open her eyes she would wake up from this absurd, uncomfortable dream at once.

She tried to move, but there was no strength in her body. Her arms were tucked uncomfortably behind her, but when she tried to move them, they refused to obey.

With great difficulty, she forced her eyelids apart, and was suddenly aware that she was in a fast-moving car. There was somebody on either side of her, and cord was bound around her wrists behind her, and around her ankles, too.

She made an inarticulate sound, and the men turned to look at her. One was Willy Jessel, the other was the stocky, gray-eyed gunman Jake, she thought, recalling the earlier conversation.

"Hey, welcome back, teach," Willy grinned triumphantly, baring his healthy white teeth. "Bit of a change from teachin' history, huh?"

His light blue eyes were malicious, lecherous, traveling over her face and then downward. Once again his gaze was fixed upon her breasts, and the tip of his broad pink tongue passed slowly and deliberately over his lower lip.

She shuddered very slightly, and his grin turned into a positive leer.

"Wassmatter, Miss Avalon? Feelin' the cold?"

"Ah, knock it off," Jake muttered impatiently. His eyes also appraised her, and somehow his evident lack of interest was even more scary than Willy's lustful scrutiny.

"Aw, don't I get to have a little fun?" Willy protested.

"Huh?" Jake grimaced, following Willy's gaze to her breasts. Then he shrugged. "Just don't go thrashin' around too much there ain't that much room in this damn car."

"Plenty of room where we're goin', huh?"

Willy slowly raised one big, blunt-fingered hand with its short-bitten nails, and it hovered over her right breast. She watched, appalled, as it crept closer, a fraction of an inch at a time, like a predator stalking its terrified prey.

"I been about achin' to find out if them boobs feel as good as they look all year," Willy said, almost conversationally. "I been watchin' in class. They really stand out the way you got your hands behind you, know that Miss Avalon?"

He drawled the syllables of her name mockingly, relishing the juxtaposition of the formal address with the slow approach of his hand to the cringing mound beneath her white sweater.