Ms. Kirkland and Ms. Wiley -- Senior Beach Trip (mm/FF)

[TapeTurtle]

"Dude! Look alive!" I called out to Mark as the football I threw whizzed by his head and into the ocean. Mark's attention had been pulled entirely back up the beach, where a few of the chaperones had laid out their chairs and umbrellas.

"What?" I pointed toward the football floating away in the subtle waves. "You better get that or buy me a new one!" As Mark hurriedly ran out into the water after the ball, I turned and saw what had distracted him. Ms. Wiley, our History teacher, had shed her shirt and shorts, standing up now in a skin-tight, navy, one-piece swimsuit. Still a modest swimsuit, the thin blue fabric clung to her incredible figure, struggled to stay contained inside. She flipped her long, dark brown hair behind her and tossed her shirt aside before sitting back down with her book.

Mark shot me a devilish grin from the water as he caught me staring, too, before throwing me the ball. I caught it and fired it back at him hard. "Shut up," I called out with prejudice.

I knew why he was snickering at me. A part of it was because we were five days into our senior beach trip and most of the conversation among the guys had been how they had all waited four years to finally see Ms. Wiley in a bathing suit. Another part of it was that Mark knew I had had a crush on Ms. Wiley since I was a freshman in her Film History class -- though that was not unusual -- Ms. Wiley was far and away the most attractive teacher out our school. The reason Mark was getting such a kick out of my staring because in the beach chair a few feet from Ms. Wiley was my Dad, who had agreed to chaperone this trip alongside some of the teachers, and who, according to rumors, Ms. Wiley had a gigantic crush on.

My parents had split up when I was around three years old. My mom lived a few counties away and rarely came by. My Dad had been essentially a single parent my entire life. We were really close, and it was my idea to get him to come on this trip since I was soon about to be out of the house. My Dad never did things for himself. Nearly all of his time was spent between his business (a very successful architecture firm) and me. It felt good to have him come along with me. What I didn't anticipate was how quickly during trips to the beach, or to dinner, or even just around the beach house, I found Dad and Ms. Wiley near each other, talking earnestly and lightly with each other.

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My suspicions were confirmed just later that night at our beach house's communal dinner. "You know she's absolutely in love with him," Ms. Kirkland leaned over to tell me and Mark after we had finished eating and were picking at desserts and coffee. I leaned back slightly away from the alcohol on her breath, which was strong. "She'd rather die than do anything about it. But she told me she'd marry your father tomorrow if he asked. She said that earlier today." Ms. Kirkland laughed and resumed working on her fourth margarita. "He must like her right?" She floated the question back in my direction.

I glanced up at my Dad and Ms. Wiley chatting alone on the patio. My Dad's eyes lit up above his smile as Ms. Wiley laughed at one of his horrible jokes, placing her hand on his shoulder as she cackled. "I don't know, probably. Yeah. But I know he'd never do anything about it either."

"He has to. Look at both of them!" Mark said softly, nodding back toward the patio.

"What a shame. I think they'd make each other very happy." Ms. Kirkland took another sip of her drink. "They probably won't cross paths again after this week either."

I thought about what she said for a moment, and couldn't help but agree. I thought Ms. Kirkland was right. They'd be great together, and if anyone deserved someone who made him happy, it was my Dad.

"Is there anything we can do to get them together?" I suddenly asked Ms. Kirkland, snapping out of my inner monologue. "You know, while they're here together? It just kinda seems like their last shot at being together."

Ms. Kirkland raised her eyebrow at me, then thought to herself for a few moments before finishing the rest of her drink. "I have a plan. Wait here." Ms. Kirkland stood up from the table, wobbling a little, before making her way out to the patio. Mark and I walked with curiosity as a curvy, red-haired Civics teacher tapped my Dad and Ms. Wiley on the shoulder and chatted casually with them for a moment before making her way back toward us. Her hips swayed as her enormous chest and backside jiggled slightly in her t-shirt and shorts. While Ms. Wiley was young and fit enough to be a professional model, many of us also found Ms. Kirkland to be lovely to look at with her 44-year-old, Christina Hendricks-type build.

She plopped down next to us and whispered soft enough for only the three of us to hear. "Okay. The chaperones are going on a night swim in the pool before bed tonight. No students allowed. That's your chance."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Let me finish! Geeze." Ms. Kirkland shook her head playfully at me, clearly drunk at this point. "Meet me in the bedroom Ms. Wiley and I are sharing upstairs at 11:30. I'll explain then."

Mark and I nodded, confused still, but eager for 11:30 to arrive.

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Unbeknownst the chaperones, the students also had plans that night. They were going to the other end of the beach to throw a party. Mark and I agreed to stay in and assist with whatever it was that Ms. Kirkland had cooked up. When 11:30 came, we made our way up to Ms. Kirkland and Ms. Wiley's bedroom, filling the empty house with the sounds of our nervous footsteps.

We opened the door and stepped inside the empty room, sitting on one of the two beds. After just a minute, Ms. Kirkland quietly stepped into the room, drying her hair with a beach towel. She plopped the towel onto a dresser before addressing us. Our jaws dropped. Ms. Kirkland's massive, heavy chest nearly spilled out of a dark green bikini. While she wasn't model-thin, she sure as knew how to wear a bathing suit.

"What?" She asked. "We get to wear whatever we want when the kids aren't around." She giggled to herself as she stepped breezily past Mark and me into a closet. "We have to hurry. Ms. Wiley's going to be here in about twenty minutes."

After a moment, she emerged from the closet and dumped several rolls of duct tape onto one of the beds. "Here," was all she said.

"I don't get it." I said, my heart beginning to pound. "Me neither." said Mark.

"We're going to have to force their hands a little bit, boys," Ms. Kirkland said, clearly still tipsy from dinner. "You're going to tie up Ms. Wiley and leave her as a present for your father. They'll love it."

Mark and I both turned white. "What?" both of us blurted out.

"Just trust me. I timed it perfectly. Ms. Wiley's going to meet me in here to 'help with something' in twenty minutes. Your Dad said he was going to swim until twenty minutes after that. That gives you twenty minutes to make Anna into a little present for him." She laughed hysterically at her odd joke.

"Ms. Kirkland...we've never...kidnapped someone before..." I said shyly.

"It's not hard, boys. When she comes in, tie her up with the duct tape really tight."

"Easy for you to say! We're going to mess it up!" Mark added on.

"This is your last chance if you want your father to make a move...Ugh. Fine." Ms. Kirkland grabbed two rolls of tape and tossed them to us. "Twenty minutes. That's enough time for a practice run."

"Practice with who? The house is empty."

"On me, geniuses." Ms. Kirkland crossed her arms underneath her heavy chest. "Kidnap me." She quickly pulled a hair tie off of her wrist and put her long, auburn hair into a tight ponytail.

"You're serious?" I found the edge of the roll of tape with hesitation, peering up at my barely clothed teacher. I turned to look at Mark, whose expression had completely changed. He looked at me with a wide grin, ripping a long length of tape of his roll.

"Dude. You heard her. We need to practice."

"I'm not going to make it easy on you. Ms. Wiley looks like a fighter." Ms. Kirkland grinned, slurring her words slightly as she pursed her lips and put her hands on her wide hips.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't," Mark said. Without waiting another moment, Mark ran forward, tape held out, before jumping on our bikini-clad practice victim.

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"Holy hell," I said, standing back to look at what we had done. "How did you do that?"

Mark turned back at me, whispering slightly in between heavy breaths. His forehead glistened with sweat, having done most of the heavy lifting himself. "I have a confession. I've always been into the idea of tying up girls. This is the first chance I've had to actually do it, but I know what it should look like." He peered toward the bed. "It should look like this."

On the small twin bed, Ms. Kirkland writhed and wriggled in her bikini. Her wrists and elbows had been taped tightly behind her back. Mark had also taped above and below her breasts, and around her waist, knees, and ankles. Our redheaded teacher was completely helpless, her curves and pale skin lolling around, jiggling as she fought her bonds in futility.

"Mmmphhffhhmm." Ms. Kirkland nodded in affirmation at what Mark said through the strip of tape sealing her mouth shut.

"How'd we do Ms. Kirkland? Will this work?" I asked our kidnapped chaperone with a grin. She nodded enthusiastically. "Perfect. Good work buddy. We have only a few minutes before Ms. Wiley is due up here. We should go ahead and untie her."

"Hmmmphf hmm." Ms. Kirkland nodded her head, rolling onto her stomach, sticking her wrists and incredibly large butt up in the air.

"Hang on a second." Mark disappeared out the door, re-entering a few seconds later with something behind his back. "One last thing." Ms. Kirkland rolled back over, staring at Mark in confusion as he approached her slowly, pulling out from behind his back a large red ball attached to two leather straps. "I want to try this on." He quickly peeled the tape off of Ms. Kirkland's full lips.

"What in the Lord's name is that?" Ms. Kirkland barely could get the words out in between fits of heavy breathing. Her giant, barely covered breasts swung slightly as she filled her chest with air. "Are you going to use that on Ms. Wi---UMMPFFHH!"

Mark shoved the ball into Ms. Kirkland's mouth before tightening the straps tightly around the back of her head. She gagged slightly in discomfort before accepting her new gag with slumped shoulders. "There!" That's a properly kidnapped damsel! I've always wanted a reason to use that thing."

"Ffffhfhhhhmmmgghhfffhmm." Ms. Kirkland tried and failed to tell us something. She looked urgently at the door and the clock. "FFfhfhhahfhfhhhggmm..." A stream of saliva escaped from her mouth, sliding down her neck.

"What do you think she's saying?" I asked Mark.

"Beats me." He replied.

Suddenly, it became clear, as we heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

"Shoot!" Mark whispered! "Hide!"

"What about her?" I whispered back, pointing at the bound and gagged Ms. Kirkland.

"Leave her! Grab your tape and get in the closet!"

I did what Mark told me and squeezed into the small closet with him, closing the door.

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"Molly? You in here? Can I come in?" Ms. Wiley's light, high voice creaked through the closed door, followed by several light knocks. Through the slats in the closet, we saw Ms. Kirkland's blue eyes go wide above her red ball gag. "I'm coming in." Ms. Wiley said softly, pushing the door open softly inside.

"Molly!? What happened???" Ms. Wiley ran forward to her colleague, pulling the gag out of her mouth and dropping it down below her chin. "Are you okay?" she asked frantically.

"I'm fine Anna. Trust me. Just a game I played with a few of the students. I'm afraid I lost." Ms. Kirkland laughed lightly, trying to put her worried peer at ease. "It was a fun game, though, perhaps you'd like to play?"

"A game? Seriously? Who played? I don't want to play that. Let's get you out of this."

"Really? It's fun!" Ms. Kirkland shifted in her tightly wrapped tape. "Well, at least it will be fun later. For you at least."

"For me? What do you mean?" Ms. Wiley stepped back in confusion.

"I'm afraid you're already playing dear."

Beside me in the closet, Mark knew to take the queue from Ms. Kirkland. He burst out of the closet, running to the door and locking it behind him.

"Mark? What is going on here?" Ms. Wiley's voice changed, becoming colored slightly by both anger, confusion, and a trace of fear.

I stepped out of the closet. "Hi Ms. Wiley," I said sheepishly. Ms. Wiley and I stared at each other for a moment. Her eyes grew wide as she saw my face. I looked her up and down, mesmerized by her appearance. Ms. Wiley was frequently told that she was the spitting image of Alexandra Daddario. In that room, in her small, black bikini, she definitely looked the part. Her ample chest fell softly and heavily above her incredibly tight stomach and strong legs. Her arms were thin, but toned, and angled up toward her bony, pronounced shoulders and collarbone. Her blue eyes froze onto mine as her voice quivered.

"Wyatt...what...what is going on here?"

"This is for your own good, Ms. Wiley. You're going to have to trust us."

"Trust you? Trust you to do...what?"

Mark, who had stealthily snuck behind Ms. Wiley while she had been staring at me, grabbed her arms, pulling them behind her. Ms. Wiley kicked and fought him hard. "You're going to have to wait on that answer, I'm afraid." Mark turned toward me, struggling to hold Ms. Wiley in place as she kicked and wrenched. "Wyatt! Now!"

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"Calm down, Anna. It's a good thing. Trust us." Ms. Kirkland, still taped up, tried to ease Ms. Wiley.

"Calm down? You're joking." Ms. Wiley writhed furiously against the tape binding her. I couldn't help but stare as her body twisted and turned in place. I had used Ms. Kirkland as a model, taping up Ms. Wiley the exactly the same way, leaving her skin bulging out in all the best places. Ms. Wiley's hair was starting to stick to her face as her struggling made her sweat profusely. "Boys. Let me go right now. I'm serious. I'm going to call your parents."

"Well...that's kind of the point actually." I stepped forward nervously. "This is about my Dad."

"What?" Ms. Wiley's face went red. "What do you mean...your father? Did he ask you to do this?"

"No! He has no idea. I swear." I looked at Mark worriedly, as I could tell Ms. Wiley was getting increasingly agitated. Mark quietly walked over to Ms. Kirkland, undoing the ball gag around her neck. "It's just..." I turned my attention back to Ms. Wiley. "It's just that I know you to are in love with each other. It's obvious."

"Wyatt, I am NOT in love with your Dad. We just...have a good time hanging ou--HMPPHHFFHH!!!" Ms. Wiley's blushed denial was interrupted by Mark as he swiftly jammed the ball gag into her mouth from behind, tightening the strap around her neck, beneath her hair. Ms. Wiley, clearly embarrassed and now furious, stared silent daggers at me above her newly filled mouth.

"It's okay Ms. Wiley. It really is okay. I actually think you two SHOULD be together. Truly. I've never, ever seen someone make my Dad so happy before. I know he's in love with you. He's just too worried about embarrassing me to say anything."

Ms. Wiley's cheeks turned the same color as her gag. "Fhhgmmhm?" She asked, softer this time, still confused.

"It was my idea, Anna." Ms. Kirkland interjected. We knew if we left you two to it, neither of you would have ever made a move. You're too passive, dear." Ms. Wiley looked down, embarrassed, but without protest. "We're just forcing your hands here. It's all out of love." Ms. Kirkland stood up in her tightly bound form, hopping over to the bed Ms. Wiley was sitting on. Her ungodly curves and mature body bouncing dramatically with each hop. "It's odd, yes, but it'll get his attention. So stop fighting it and let us help you."

Ms. Wiley looked back up at me, softly, and with a tinge of sadness. I smiled reassuringly to her. "I would love for you and my Dad to be together. So let us do this. I promise he's going to want you too." Ms. Wiley smiled slightly behind her gag, deeply embarrassed, but also deeply touched. Her eyes glistened, near tears. I saw her body relax against the tape. She looked back at me, then to Ms. Kirkland, before nodding weakly.

"That's the spirit dear," Ms. Kirkland put her head on Ms. Wiley's shoulder and smiled maternally. "Now. We need to hurry. Mark, go get a piece of paper and a Sharpie out of my work bag in the corner. We need to write a quick message." She shifted back to me. "Wyatt, you carry Ms. Wiley to your father's bedroom. Put her on the bed."

Ms. Wiley's eyes went wide, her whole face red.

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Mark placed the small sign in front of Ms. Wiley on my Dad's bed.

"A gift for you, for the night. Love, Anna." the sign read.

Ms. Wiley stared nervously at me and Mark up from my Dad's bed, wriggling lightly against the tape binding her body. "Hmmffh hhffh mmmm." She tried to say something softly. I stepped over to her and pulled the ball gag out of her mouth. "Bleh." she continued on. "This was really not okay, you two. I'm a grown woman and my love life and my body are under no one's control but mine."

I felt my body go cold with guilt and embarrassment, knowing she was right. What we did crossed a line, even if it was well-intentioned.

"But," she said, interrupting my guilt. "But thank you." Ms. Wiley smiled at me sweetly before opening her mouth.

"Any time. I'm happy for both of you. Good luck." I gently pressed the ball back into her mouth. "Let's get out of here. It's almost time." I turned to Mark, ushering him out of my Dad's room and closing the door, leaving the bound and gagged Ms. Wiley in the soft dark, alone, waiting for my Dad to find her.

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We stepped back into the other bedroom, closing the door behind us. "How is she doing?" Ms. Kirkland asked from the bed. She struggled to sit back up under the constraint of the tape holding her limbs together.

"She seemed good." I said simply, not wanting to assume more than that.

"More than good! We did it!" Mark added triumphantly. "This was a great idea Ms. Kirkland!"

"Thank you boys!" Ms. Kirkland smiled sweetly. "I honestly am fairly surprised we pulled it off. Mark, I'm particularly impressed with you. I didn't think you had all this in you." Ms. Kirkland shifted slightly, straining her wrists against the tight tape behind her. "Now, I think it's time I take a shower and head to bed. This has been more excitement than I think I've had in a while, and I'm frankly exhausted."

"Thanks Ms. Kirkland." Mark said. "But...about that." He picked up one of the rolls of tape off the floor and headed toward Ms. Kirkland's suitcase, pulling out a pair of basic blue panties.

"Dude...what are you doing?" I said incredulously.

"Yes...what are you doing?" Ms. Kirkland added.

"I don't know...I think that maybe our mission is not quite yet finished is all." Mark stepped menacingly toward our bound teacher. "I'm afraid this is just too much fun, Ms. Kirkland. I have loved hanging out with you so much, and I'm going to miss you after graduation." Mark grabbed Ms. Kirkland's shoulders and pulled her up off the bed. I couldn't help but watch her bounce as she steadied herself in several tiny hops.

"I had fun too, Mark. What are you saying? Why do you have a pair of HFFHFHFMMPHHFFHH!"

Ms. Kirkland grunted in displeasure as I watched mark cram the panties into her mouth. Before she could spit them out, he began wrapping several layers of tape around her head and below her ponytail, covering her lips and making her cheeks bulge.

"FFHFMGGGHMMM HHFHMMFFHG GGGGHMMMFF!" Ms. Kirkland cursed into her stuffed mouth with no avail. Her cries barely audible behind the tape.

Mark stepped away and took out his phone, regarding his completely helpless and silenced teacher. To my shock and to Ms. Kirkland's horror, he began snapping photos of her. Unable to come up with what to say, I simply watched as my friend alternated between close ups and different angles of her incredible figure, along with various portraits of her helpless face. Ms. Kirkland, knowing she was unable to break free, simply froze in shock as she watched her student record every inch of her exposed and bulging body.

"See...here's the thing." Mark said before smacking Ms. Kirkland hard on her butt, sending a shocked, muffled yelp from the teacher's stuffed mouth. He pushed her upper body down onto the bed, leaving her bulbous backside up in the air below her bound wrists. "I think this might be the beginning of a new relationship between me and you, Ms. Kirkland. I simply can't let what we've discovered here fade away after I graduate." He took a few close ups of Ms. Kirkland's backside before standing her back up.

Ms. Kirkland whimpered slightly into her gag, her eyes darting between me and Mark, who was moving in front her.

"So here's the deal. I am taking a gap year next year and deferring my admission to Princeton." Ms. Kirkland's and me looked at each other in confusion. I had never heard of this plan from Mark before. "And during that year, you and I are going to...stay in touch. Just like this." Mark motioned his camera, now in video mode, up and down Ms. Kirkland's tightly bound body. "And if for any reason you choose not to play along, I'm going to send these to the principal, as well as to your students, colleagues, and whomever else I feel like sending them to."

Ms. Kirkland let out a stifled gasp. Her eyes got completely wide. "HFFHMPPHHGGFFPH?" she tried to ask.

"Shhhh..." Mark put a finger to her taped lips. "It'll be fun. I promise."

Mark winked at me. Ms. Kirkland stared at me, her eyes starting to glisten above the silver duct tape. I slowly backed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone, and closing the door behind me.

[Caesar73]

Quite the Beach Trip!