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Subject: {ASSM} AnnD"Payback"MF(1/3)
Date: Mon, 24 Jan 2000 16:10:05 -0500
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Payback
by Ann Douglas
(ann_douglas@hotmail.com)
Part One
Jim Grant moved quickly down the long,
semi-illuminated, basement hallway. The
seventeen-year-old was one of the editors of the
high school paper and had spent the better part of
two hours rewriting an article that had been
turned in three hours before the paper had to be
sent to press.
If it had been up to Jim, he would've just
tossed the poorly written feature in the trash can
and been done with it. Unfortunately, it had been
written by Phyllis Fox, a member of the school's in
crowd and the darling of the paper's faculty
advisor, Miss Ferguson. It was Jim's opinion that
Phyllis's column was mindless drivel, filled with
the sort of useless garbage that the small school's
beautiful people thrived on. If he'd left it out,
Miss Ferguson would've been all over his ass and
he really didn't want to have to deal with that
again.
The sandy haired teen already had enough
arguments with the thirty seven-year-old English
teacher to last a lifetime. Just last year, they had a
confrontation over the direction the paper should
take that led to Jim being suspended from school
for a week. The only reason he managed to get
back his position on the paper when he came back
was that the principle quickly discovered that
what was left of the staff was incapable of
producing anything resembling a decent
publication without him.
So despite Michelle Ferguson's objections,
he returned to the board of the Lakeville Star.
There was a constant friction between the two of
them, but Jim was careful not to let anything blow
up enough to get him suspended again.
"Damn, Mom's going to have a fit when I
get home," Jim thought as he turned the corner.
"I was supposed to pick up her dry cleaning on
my way home and the store is going to be closed
by the time I get there."
The rest of the staff had gone home an
hour before, including Miss Ferguson. She had
been satisfied with the layout for the paper, even if
Jim hadn't. The young man resisted the urge to tell
her that the paper was crap as it stood, instead
suffering in silence and staying on his own time to
fix the errors.
To make matters worse, the custodians
had locked the gates at the staircase by the
newspaper office, forcing Jim to travel the length
of the basement to go out the stairs by the gym.
"Oh baby, do it to me, do it baby!" a voice
echoed faintly from a side passage down the hall.
The sudden sound caused Jim to stop in
midstep. The school should be deserted at this
hour on a Friday night, he thought, who the hell
was that?
"Oh baby, suck it, suck my cock!"
"Fuck, I know that voice." the young man
said as he remembered what was down that side
passage.
His carrybag in hand, Jim moved quietly
down the passageway the voice had come from.
He'd reached the end of the corridor when he saw
the lights in the gym coach's office were on. From
where he stood, he could see right into the glass
walled room.
"Holy shit!" the teen said under his breath
as he saw what was going on in the brightly-lit
room. "I don't fucking believe it!"
Leaning against his desk was Coach Rob
Kelly, the forty-six year old head of the athletic
department. The coach was stripped to the waist
and also had his sweatpants down around his
ankles. Rob Kelly was six foot two and two
hundred and thirty pounds, all of it muscle. He
was also bald, good-looking, and very, very black.
Married with five kids, his wife Kate was also a
teacher at the school, a member of the music
department.
That the coach was using his office to get
a blowjob from a woman not his wife was
shocking enough. What was really mind blowing
to the seventeen-year-old was that the woman
with Kelly's cock in her mouth was none other
than Michelle Ferguson herself.
There was no mistaking the redheaded
teacher. From where Jim was standing in the
darkened hallway, he could clearly see her face as
Kelly's dark cock slid in and out of her mouth. He
could also see that the white blouse he had seen
her wearing in the newspaper office only an hour
ago was now hanging open. As was her bra,
displaying her 36C bust for all the world, or at
least one teenager to see.
Whatever her personality, even Jim had to
admit that for a woman nearly as old as his
mother, Michelle Ferguson had a pretty hot
body.
"No one is ever going to believe this." he
thought as he watched Michelle swallow Coach
Kelly's manhood once more.
He watched for another minute when he
suddenly remembered something.
"I'm an idiot!" he said to himself.
Jim zipped open the carrybag at his feet
and pulled out a rather professional looking
camera. The camera belonged to the newspaper
and Jim had signed it out to take some pictures of
the football game tomorrow. In addition to being
one of the editors, he was also one of the
photographers.
"Well they say a picture's worth a
thousand words." he said as he looked through
the viewfinder and started snapping away.
Jim thanked his luck that he had fitted the
camera with a telephoto lens and high-speed film
for the game. The film that could freeze the action
in mid-play, also worked great in low light.
"These are going to be great." Jim said as
he clicked away.
With the telephoto lens, it was as if he
was almost in the same room as the two lovers.
He watched in rapt fascination as Michelle sucked
off the gym teacher with the skill of a back alley
hooker.
"I think he's about to blow." the young
man behind the lens thought as he saw the look on
the coach's face.
Sure enough, blow he did as Rob Kelly
exploded all over Michelle's face. Jim had to keep
from laughing as the redhead found herself
covered with the sticky whiteness. An image
captured for posterity in living color.
Coach Kelly handed Michelle a towel to
clean off her face with. One of the same towels,
Jim noted, that the students used to dry off after
the showers at the end of gym class. He
wondered for a moment if she planned to use
those showers to clean herself up, and if so how
could he get a picture of her in them. Watching
her wet the towel from the water cooler in the
office, it became apparent that a shower was not
to be. He settled instead for getting a really great
shot of her naked breasts when she stood up.
The sound of his roll of film coming to an
end as he took that last shot made Jim realize that
he had better get out of there while he could.
Quickly and as quietly as he could, he stuffed his
gear back in his bag and retraced his steps back up
the hall. Thankfully, the staircase up to the street
level was unlocked and he flew up it as fast as he
could.
After getting home and listening to the
inevitable lecture from his mother about the dry
cleaning, Jim excused himself from the dinner
table and headed down to the basement and his
darkroom.
A short time later, Jim watched with
excitement as the first 8x10 image began to form
in the development pan. The picture was as clear
as if he'd taken it on a sunny day, the film had
worked perfectly.
The first shot was a close up of Michelle
with her tongue licking the tip of the Coach's
cock. Jim couldn't believe the resolution of the
photograph, he could even see the drop of precum
on the edge of her tongue.
The next shot out of the soup was even
better as it showed a wider view in which you
could see Michelle's tits as well as Coach Kelly's
face. The third and fourth shots alternated
between close ups and wider angles, reflecting the
fact that Jim had kept changing the settings on the
telephoto lens after each click of the shutter. As
more and more pictures began to grace the small
line he used to air dry the prints, Jim found that
he'd gotten a major class hard on just looking at
them.
Knowing the door to his darkroom was
locked, Jim sat back in the old, beat up recliner
that his father had once tried to throw out and
began to rub his cock through his pants. It wasn't
long before he had it out and was pumping it with
his hand.
His blue eyes never left the image of the
teacher he hated blowing the gym coach. As he
felt his climax approaching, Jim began to wonder
what it might be like to be on the receiving end of
that hot mouth. It would be hard to hate Miss
Ferguson at a time like that.
Jim had gotten a few blowjobs from girls
at school. In fact, two months ago he had even
lost his virginity on his seventeenth birthday when
his neighbor's cousin Heather, who had been
visiting from Canada, went to bed with him. She
was a nice enough girl, but it was apparent that it
was something she had done more than a few
times before. Jim was glad when she went back
home at the start of the school year. On the verge
of orgasm, he wondered what it might be like with
someone like Michelle Ferguson.
"Fuck!" Jim gasped as his cock exploded
all over his pants. The force of his eruption was
enough to send small white splatters onto the arms
of the chair as well.
He sat there, covered in his own sperm,
for what seemed like a real long time. The climax
he had just experienced was even better than the
one he felt with he was inside Heather. Go figure
that one, the teen thought.
Jim took the time to clean up both himself
and the chair. It wouldn't do for his Mom to
come down and find the come stains on the
material. Next he collected the now dry pictures
and hid both them and the negatives in what he
considered a real safe place.
The clock on the wall told him it was time
to hit the sack. Jim still had to get up early in the
morning and go photograph the football game.
He reloaded the camera with the best film he had
on hand. It wasn't as good as the stuff he had just
developed, but it would do the job. Then again,
there was nothing he was going to see at the game
that was likely to be as interesting as what he had
filmed tonight. Not even if Susan Todd didn't
wear panties again under her cheerleader's skirt, a
fact that became obvious to attentive spectators
when she did a cartwheel. Always attentive, Jim
already had two good shots of those cartwheels.
One of which he had blown up into a close-up of
her bush and sold to a few guys who asked him
about it.
Thinking about that, Jim figured that if he
sold the pictures of Miss Ferguson and Coach
Kelly, he'd get a lot more than the ten dollars a
shot he'd gotten for the pics of Susan. A whole
lot more.
But that was a decision for tomorrow or
maybe even the day after. It had been a long day
and jerking off always made him a little tired
afterwards. After taking a few minutes to make
sure he was leaving everything cleaned up, he
headed off to bed.
Jim Grant woke up the next morning with
a hard on. Normally this was not that unusually
for a seventeen-year-old boy, but in this case, Jim
found it a little surprising. The reason being that
he had woken up two hours before with one as
well. He had jerked off then using a tissue from
his night table to keep from staining his bed.
Now, despite two climaxes in less than eight
hours, he still couldn't get the images he had
captured on celluloid out of his mind. The proof
of which was the six and a half-inch post now
once more straining against his pajama bottoms.
He was pleased to discover that this early
morning orgasm was just as enjoyable as the two
that had preceded it. The pictures now hidden in
his basement were proving to be a potent
aphrodisiac.
His lust abated, if only for the time being,
Jim quickly showered and dressed. Bill and Jack,
two of his best friends picked him up to go to the
game. It took all of his strength of will not to tell
them about the pictures he had taken.
"You think you'll get any more pictures of
Susie's pussy?" Bill asked as he drove down the
road leading to the school's playing field.
"Forget about Susie's pussy," Jack said
from the other side of Jim. "You ever get a shot
of Donna Petrowski's tits you let me know. I'd
pay big bucks to see those babies."
"If you weren't such an asshole, maybe
you'd get to see them for yourself." Bill laughed.
"Oh yeah," Jack countered. "And whose
tits have you ever seen other than your sister's"
"Just your mother's!" Bill shot back.
"Fuck you!" Jack shouted back.
"She wanted to, but I've got better taste."
Bill fired back just as quickly.
Jack fumed at the response for a moment,
but Jim had been here many times and quickly
defused the situation.
"I'll have to give that round to Billy." he
said. "He got you on points, Jack."
"All right," he grudgingly admitted as his
temper subsided. "I guess he did."
All of them then laughed.
"You wouldn't really want to fuck my
mother, would you?" Jack asked Billy.
"Hell no," he said. "Who'd want to screw
someone that old."
"Yeah, right." Jack agreed.
Jim didn't say a word, thinking of the
pictures in his basement. Who indeed, he thought.
All through the rest of the weekend, Jim
pondered what he should do with the hidden
photographs. He was still thinking about it
Monday morning when he showed up at first
period English. The class had just about resigned
itself to yet another of Mrs. Conway's boring
recitations of equally boring poems, when who
should walk in but Michelle Ferguson.
"I'm afraid that Mrs. Conway's got a touch
of the flu and won't be in today," she said as she
walked across the front of the room. "So I'll be
covering her class for at least the next two days."
That statement perked up the attention of
at least the male half of the class. None of them
would rather have to pay attention to the fifty-five
going on eighty Mrs. Conway. In fact, as Jim had
noted to himself in the basement Friday afternoon,
Miss Ferguson was a first class fox.
Hanging out with the guys one afternoon,
he and they had come to the conclusion that there
had to be at least one Miss Ferguson in every
school. A Teacher that just alluded sex appeal
and more importantly knew it. Someone who,
they were sure, knew exactly the effect she had on
teenage boys. Even following the conservative
dress code the School Board had laid down for
female teachers, Michelle Ferguson was still the
subject of countless wet dreams. One of the guys
at that afternoon bull session had remarked that if
Miss Ferguson had been at the Catholic School he
had transferred from, and had been required to
wear a habit, she still would've been giving even
the Priests hard ons. Jim had to agree with that
assessment. There was no way you could totally
hide a body like that.
Unlike when Mrs. Conway read, every eye
in the room was on Miss Ferguson's lips as she
read the day's poem. It happened to be a love
sonnet, and even the girls were enraptured by her
rendition of it. The heaving of her breasts as she
added emphasis to her words was almost enough
to give every guy in class a woodie, and Jim was
no exception.
Unfortunately for Jim, he had the added
image of Friday afternoon's little escapade to add
fuel to his fire so to speak. As he watched her
cherry red lips move as she spoke, he couldn't help
but remember how they looked wrapped around
Coach Kelly's cock. Then as with the rest of his
fellow male student he watched the expansions
and contractions beneath her blouse, the young
photographer pictured the shape and look of the
dark pink nipples hidden beneath the white
material.
Jim had gotten so wrapped up in his own
private imagery that he hadn't even heard his name
called the first two times.
"Mr. Grant!" Michelle Ferguson said
much louder the third time as she stepped down
the row of desks where he sat.
"What?" Jim muttered as he snapped out
of his almost trance like state.
"Nice to have to join us again." Michelle
said from where she had stopped a few desks in
front of him.
A few low laughs from his fellows greeted
her statement.
"Now that I have your attention, I'll repeat
the question," she went on. "How did the poets
words make you feel when you heard them?"
"Well, I..." Jim began, knowing full well
that he wasn't the only guy in class who wasn't
paying the least bit of attention to what the poet's
words actually were.
"Stand up please."
"What?" Jim said.
"I said, stand up please," the woman in
white and blue repeated. "In my class when you
give an answer or render an opinion, I prefer
students to stand up so that everyone may have
the full benefit of their answer."
Jim quickly became aware of his body's
response to the imagery he had been so recently
remembering. And if he stood up, so would
everyone else.
"I'd rather not." Jim said.
"I'm afraid that wasn't an option I gave,
Mr. Grant," Michelle said, the slightest of smiles
forming at the corner of her mouth. "This isn't the
Lakeville Star where you can do what you want
as the result of some misguided sense that you are
indispensable. In my classroom you will follow
my rules. Or would you rather explain what the
poet was talking about to the principle. I'm sure
he'd be most interested in your answer."
The memory of his suspension last
semester fresh in his mind, Jim slowly rose to his
feet. It was Sally Welles sitting just across from
him who noticed it first. It didn't take seconds
after that for everyone else around him to notice it
as well -- including Miss Ferguson.
"Well, I see that perhaps you were moved
by the imagery of the poets words after all, Mr.
Grant," Michelle said with a snide satisfaction in
her voice. "But not in the way he intended I
would guess. Very well, you may return to your
seat."
Jim did so, his ears ringing with the hushed
whispers and quiet laughter from those around
him. He knew Miss Ferguson had no right to
make fun of him like that. But he also knew that if
he made a complaint he would find more of the
students backing up any version of events she put
across rather than what actually happened.
"Well if our little entertainment is over
with," Michelle said as she returned to the front
of the room. "I'd like you all to turn to page fifty
in your textbook and ..."
The rest of the class, in fact the rest of the
day passed in a rapid blur for Jim Grant. As he
had guessed, half the school had heard about his
having an erection in English class by the last
period. He had been equally right in predicting
that no one heard a word about Miss Ferguson
making fun of him as she did.
"I hope you enjoyed your little laugh, Miss
Ferguson," Jim raged as he ran down the school
steps, trying to ignore the pointed stares. "This
time you've gone over the line!"
Jim was just as angry when he finally
reached home. He sat at his kitchen table drinking
a glass of soda. Eventually, he began to get
control of his anger enough to think about getting
even.
"Hey what's up little brother?" the tall
twenty-year-old asked as she came through the
kitchen door.
"Sure, you think it's funny too!" Jim called
out at what he perceived as his sister's ill attempt
at humor.
"Wait a second, little brother," Marcy
Grant said, "What do I find funny? I was just
asking how was your day."
Realizing he had jumped the gun, Jim took
a deep breath and told Marcy what had happened
in English class. He omitted of course what he
had been thinking about when he had the erection.
"I guess that would be embarrassing," his
sister said with some sympathy. "But you're not
the first guy that's happen to, and I'm sure not the
last. I remember it happening to Kyle Hamilton
back in junior high. Trust me, by the end of the
week everyone will have forgotten about it."
Jim then told his sister about how Michelle
Ferguson had made fun of him. Of how none of
the other students would back him up if he wanted
to file a complaint.
"That woman always was a cruel bitch,
even back when I was in her class," Marcy
commented. "If it wasn't for her I would've
gotten the Walker Award. Instead it went to one
of her pets. I'm sorry she didn't get fired that
time."
"What are you talking about, what time?"
"Back when I was a Senior, Miss
Ferguson was involved in some kind of scandal.
No one was really sure of all the details, at least
no one that I knew. All I know is that there were
rumors that she had something going on one or
two of the teachers at the school. When I came
back to visit during my College Freshman year,
she was divorced and three married teachers had
been transferred to other schools. Make of it
what you want."
"I think I have a pretty good idea what to
make of it." Jim said quietly, the pictures hidden
down in his workroom very much on her mind.
"But she managed to worm her way out of
whatever her problem was back then." Marcy
concluded.
"Sis," Jim asked his sister. "What would
you say if I told you I knew a way to get even
with Miss Ferguson. A way to pay her back for
every nasty little thing she's ever done to anyone."
Marcy considered the question for a
minute. She was well aware of some of the stunts
her little brother had pulled over the years. A few
he had gotten caught at, but even more he had
gotten away with. He'd always been a pretty
imaginative kid. So if he said he had a way to get
even with Miss Ferguson, she had to believe he
did.
"I don't think I want to hear this," she
finally answered. "But if you really have a way to
get back at that bitch, then I say go for it."
Jim's face lit up with his sister's
encouragement. His older sibling took note of a
mischievous gleam now in his eyes. It was a
sparkle she had seen there before. She almost felt
a little sorry for Miss Ferguson. The key word in
that thought was almost.
Right after dinner, Jim retreated to his
basement workshop. Spread out on his desk
where the pictures of Miss Ferguson and Coach
Kelly. Sitting back in the old recliner, the young
man toyed with a bright red floppy disk from his
computer. On the disk was a web page containing
copies of the pictures on his desk.
He had been debating with himself for the
better part of the last hour if putting the web page
up on the Internet would be enough of a revenge.
To make sure that every teacher and student saw
the page, he had also added to the disk the high
school's master email list. He planned to send the
URL to everyone on the list after he put it up. Jim
figured that it wouldn't take half as long as the
story of what happened to him in English class for
everyone to know about the web page.
Oh he was sure that eventually the school
would take steps to have the page removed. But
by that time anyone who was interested would've
copied the pictures. He could just see copies of
them turning up all over the school.
The best part of it all was that they would
never know who had done it. When they traced
back the email address used to open the account
on the free web page provider, they'd find that it
belonged to Michelle Ferguson. It had been kid
stuff to get into the school files and find out her
password.
Still, the whole plan lacked the feeling of
satisfaction he expected it to have. Jim just
couldn't put his finger on it. He'd been careful to
crop the pictures he was going to put online so
that only Michelle was identifiable. It wasn't so
much that he wanted to protect Coach Kelly.
After all, he was a more than willing participant.
Rather it was because he had liked Mrs. Kelly
when he'd taken her class and had no desire to
cause her any embarrassment if he could avoid it.
Finally deciding to sleep on it all, Jim stuffed the
red disk into his knapsack and headed up to bed.
Jim woke early the next morning before
even his alarm clock had gone off. He was too
excited to stay in bed any longer. In the middle of
the night he'd had a dream, a dream that had told
him what was wrong with his plan of revenge.
It was so obvious that he was surprised it
hadn't occurred to him before. His plan was too
impersonal, too detached. Jim wanted to see the
look on Michelle Ferguson's face when it all came
back to haunt her. He wanted to watch her world
crumble.
Quickly dressing, Jim raced down to the
basement. He pulled out the hidden folder with
the 8x10's and selected the best shot of Michelle
licking the tip of the Coach's cock. Stuffing the
photograph into an large envelope, he printed
Attention: Miss Ferguson -- Urgent! in large
block letters on the front. The envelope then
joined the disk in his bag.
(missing parts may be found at)
Ann Douglas Web Page
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ann_Douglas/www/
ASSTR Donation Page
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/donations.html
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