rather die than go to prison! 'You wouldn't dare!' she gasped out in horror. 'You wouldn't dare do that to me!'
'If you force me to I will,' Marge responded callously. She grabbed her shoulder-strap handbag from the locker and began to saunter impudently toward the exit. 'I don't see why there's all the fuss anyway. We all had a bit of fun, and nobody was hurt.' She paused at the partition to turn and stare at the older woman with adolescent arrogance. 'Just let me know when you want to turn on again, Mrs. Hamilton. I'll see what I can arrange.'
'But… but the dog!' Lisa babbled, beside herself with a mixture of horror and indignation, her mind a total confusion. 'What about the dog?'
'Oh, I don't care what you do with it. But I'm sure you'll think of something. Toodle-oo!'
And then laughing, Marge Spanner sidled out the door, leaving the highly distraught chemistry teacher standing alone with Atilla a few feet away.
Chapter 2
It was all wrong.
The day had started out wrong when she'd accidentally poured soap flakes in her scrambled eggs, and it had progressively worsened. Lisa had tentatively planned to forget some of her troubles by whipping up a fancy shrimp creole dish for supper with a good big bottle of Chablis she'd bought to help top it off. But that was before walking into the girls' locker room, and she could consider that idea shot all to hell now. A bitterness blazed in the older woman as she considered the absolutely unforgivable treatment she'd received from Marge Spanner, and her ears still burned from the foul language the girl had used. And that was not counting the absolutely despicable scene itself! Well, it was all spoiled now. She couldn't possibly think of making a complicated recipe in her present frame of mind, much less feed it to that damned dog!
Lisa glanced at the German shepherd sitting beside her, her eyes flashing with dark antagonism. It seemed to leer back at her, raising the lips at the back part of his snout as only a canine is able, and, irritated still more, Lisa whipped her eyes back to the road ahead. She was driving rapidly from the school now, jerking the wheel of her small compact Valiant and impatiently braking, her mind seething with every thought except traffic safety. She was forced to swerve once when another car suddenly cut in, and the dog was thrown against her. She gasped unwittingly as the soft firmness of her breasts brushed against its furry head, the involuntary caress making the older woman all the more conscious of the animal's close presence.
'Get over on your side and stay there,' she growled to Atilla, feeling a little silly for saying something he couldn't possibly understand. But he whined in reply as if apologetic, and that only served to irritate her further.
Marge Spanner was right, Lisa told herself angrily. As the vengeful child had warned her, there was nothing she could do, not after having been a part of the scandalous perversions by watching and keeping her silence. What had ever possessed her to act that way? Lord, she must have been as sick as the girl! And, if she had the brains God gave a goose, she'd have shooed the dog away and simply tried to forget any of it had ever happened.
But perhaps it was her pride, her stubborn resolve not to be beaten by that wretched little student's blackmail. Perhaps it was the urgent necessity to reaffirm her basic morality, after having succumbed to this inexplicable temptation, for to keep quiet now would be essentially a condoning of the whole sordid mess. Whatever it was, Lisa had kept the dog with her, going around the school in a determined attempt to find out who its owner was. Once she knew, she could perhaps confront him — or her — and receive some partial satisfaction that way. But nobody she'd talked to knew… or would admit they did. So, ultimately, she'd had to leave the school grounds with the dog, promising herself that tomorrow she would call the animal pound and track the owner through the license tag that was attached to its leather collar.
So the dog rode beside her, behaving as unconcerned as if it was her own pet and was used to the trip. And so, she grimly told herself, there would be no shrimp creole tonight, but hamburger. Lots of hamburger, because, by the size of the brute, he could eat a couple of pounds of ground-round in a single chomp. Still, it would be a change from her normal evening, and ruefully she had to admit that her problem of what to do tonight was solved. She was going to dog-sit.
Yet, despite her irritation toward Atilla, she really didn't hate him, nor hold him responsible for his actions with the girl. He was, after all, just a dog and was following a dog's instinctive habits. She had witnessed too many other breeds whining in heat or jerking against someone's leg to hold him or his heritage at fault. It was Marge's fault for having trained him so irresponsibly. Mostly Lisa was infuriated with herself and was taking it out on Atilla, and realizing that only made her more irked than ever at the situation.
Actually, Atilla was a very fine animal, and one to be proud of. He had a lean, muscular body lithe and supple beneath his shiny coat, yet it was more than that, she could sense. It was something too ephemeral to pinpoint exactly, but his eyes seemed to sparkle with uncommon intelligence, and he moved with a canine grace that you couldn't help admiring. There was something big and powerful and alluring about the dog — as the student girl had so intimately proved! What an odd way to react to a mere dog! She'd never responded to Ralph that way, or to any man… it was most disconcerting to wonder how it must feel to be that way toward a dog!
She blushed slightly at her own guilty notions and squirmed nervously in the car seat, feeling the edge of the cushion rub electrically against the soft swelling of her vagina. She sucked in her breath from the unexpected contact and the more unexpected shock that it produced up between her thighs. Her pulse quickened hotly against her will. This was all so strange! She couldn't understand what had held her transfixed back in the locker room, and she couldn't understand what was taking place now… and slightly disturbed and more than a little confused, the divorced teacher felt almost relieved when she drove into her driveway.
She parked the car in the garage, and then held the door open for Atilla to jump out. He did, and without hesitation followed her to the side door. When she'd unlocked the door and entered the kitchen, he walked in behind her and then stood looking up at her intently, tongue lolling slightly from his open mouth.
'Well, you're just going to have to wait, Atilla,' Lisa told the dog sternly. 'It's not dinner time yet, and in this house you'll have to learn your manners.'
The dog's expression changed slightly to a crestfallen attitude, but otherwise he remained where he was. The blonde teacher sighed plaintively, but the dog looked so woeful that she was forced to laugh. 'Oh, I'm not mad at you, you old mutt,' she giggled, scratching him lightly behind his ears. 'Don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner later on. I have to change out of these old work clothes and into something fresh, and I think maybe I'll have a beforedinner drink, something to steady myself after all the excitement. Lord knows I deserve it!'
She went over to the sink and opened the cupboard above it, taking down a wine glass. Then, opening the refrigerator, she took out the Chablis she'd been saving for the shrimp and was about to open it when she had a second thought. She put the bottle down and filled a large soup bowl with water, setting it, down carefully at one side of the counter.
'Here's your drink, Atilla. Maybe you're thirsty too.'
Atilla regarded the water with disdain.
'That's too bad, you're not getting any of my wine,' Lisa told him. 'It's all the liquor there is in the house. Besides, dogs aren't supposed to have alcohol.'
Though she seldom drank at all, and rarely this early in the evening, Lisa uncorked the bottle hurriedly and poured the glass to the brim. She hoped the wine would settle her stomach and calm her nerves, and she took a giant sip, feeling the cool refreshing wine flow all the way down to her empty stomach. She almost coughed from the heady swallow, but gamely took another drink, and a moment later, she was rewarded by a faint light- headedness as the liquor was immediately absorbed in her bloodstream. She refilled the glass and took one more mouthful of the Chablis, relaxing gradually while the liquor wafted lazily through her jangled body.
'Ahhh, that's better,' she sighed gratefully. 'Now for a quick shower and change.' She felt a little guilty for drinking the wine so quickly, but nevertheless she picked up bottle and glass and took them with her as she strolled toward her bedroom. Atilla again followed his newfound mistress, and instinctively, he licked her smooth hand to impart his growing attachment to her. His warm wet caress across the back of her hand almost made Lisa drop the bottle, and she shivered in shock from some unexplainable emotion that suddenly knotted the insides of her belly.
'D-Don't do that,' she managed, sucking in her breath. 'And you'd better stay out here while I change,' she
