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Subject: {ASSM} Teacher Passes the Test Part Six: Spare The Rod And Spoil the Teacher by Shakespeare_I._Aint
Date: Wed, 12 Jul 2000 00:10:16 -0400
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Copyright (C) 1998, Shakespeare_I._Aint. ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit, or on another website
without the written permission of the author. The author may be contacted by
writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.
Original posting date:
Thursday AM, December 17, 1998
A Resident Author story from MrDouble's archive,
Filename: teach6.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com
Teacher Passes the Test,
Part 6 of 10,
Spare the Rod and Spoil the Teacher.
Written by Shakespeare_I._Aint
I was too busy, way too busy, to go and hit the Van Horn's on the week-end. Or
one of the weekdays of the following week for that matter. I can only say I had
more important things; more exciting business to take care of. Sure, I beat
off every night thinking of my pretty little teacher and the things I had made
her do. Who wouldn't? And I know how ridiculous it is to beat off when the
real thing is hiding only two miles away. I'm kind of embarrassed to admit
that the thought of turning that Van Horn money into some Damien North money
was more interesting than shooting semen into an unwilling little pussy.
Don't question it. If you knew how I think, you wouldn't question it.
I'm not hung up on money. I never have been. I never had much, and I never
needed much. No Nike shoes, no whizbang computer, not even a mountain bike.
Just give me clean clothes, a library, a park with a nice bench, a bus pass and
a knotty problem every now and then, and I would be just fine.
I wanted to create money. Out of one loaf, two. And deep down, I knew what I
wanted to do with my loaf.
So, I'll only say I was maneuvering some new hardcore acquaintances into a
cocaine deal in another part of the Metro Detroit area and it took all my time,
and a lot of the Van Horn money. Hell, I had to rent a car and a seedy motel
room and I was only fifteen. Things like that aren't easy. They take time and
effort. So much effort that when I finally cleared a block of time in the
window of my mind to think about a certain little teacher's huge-nippled
titties, it was ten days later.
It was the early part of November, on a Friday night about seven in the evening
when I crept onto the Van Horn's property. I surveilled the home for a half an
hour. I learned that other people really do live their lives when I'm away. I
would have lost a bet on that one.
My Van Horns were talking. To each other. In the same room. I saw them
laughing. And watching Wheel of Fortune. That wasn't right. And since I
couldn't read lips, I knocked on the front door.
Edwin Van Horn answered, his face still wreathed in merriment that didn't
vanish upon seeing me. This was a mystery, Shaggy.
"Ah, Damien. Come in, come in. We were expecting you."
"How's that? I didn't even know I was coming here."
"You weren't here the last nine nights, tonight had to be the night."
"Is that some Zen thinking, Ed?"
He chuckled and led me through the home to the warm family room where my pretty
little teacher sat demurely in her rocking chair, sipping her white wine. She
smiled comfortably at me, saying nothing. The room smelled of sweet marijuana.
I took off my jacket and flopped down onto the sofa, suspicious and antsy all
of the sudden. Something was wrong. These two people were getting along and I
didn't know why. And I was too damn tired to figure it out. But instead of
staying one step ahead, I had fallen one step behind.
"Want a beer?", Ed called from the kitchen.
"Yes, please." Please?
Edwin Van Horn brought me a beer and sat down in a recliner next to his wife.
He loaded the Marley pipe, sparked it up, and passed it to me. I inhaled and
passed to Cynthia, who took it from me in a beautifully dreamy way.
"So where have you been, Damien?"
"Ed...I've been busy. Mighty busy."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, Ed, that is so." These people were in no hurry to sell me a vowel.
And so we sat in quiet, smoking our dope, drinking our intoxicants. I waited.
Finally. From an unexpected quarter.
"Damien?" My teacher's lovely voice.
I turned to her. She was staring straight at me.
"Damien? How much longer does this go on?"
"Three or four weeks, I guess. I don't know. Why?"
"Oh, no reason. Edwin and I were just talking, is all."
It seemed no one was giving anyone any information tonight. But I didn't feel
up to mental jousting. Hell, I hadn't been close to solving the puzzles I'd
seen on Wheel on Fortune since I'd sat down. Time to get direct and see what
up-front honesty was worth.
"No, Cindy. Tell me why do you want to know."
"Well, it's just that this... 'situation'... has been going on for over a month
now... and we we're just wondering... how does it end?"
I moseyed on out to get a new beer, grasping for the thinking behind their
question. Nothing found. I reseated myself and answered.
"I honestly don't know how or when it ends, Cindy. It just ends in three or
four weeks. Probably not with a bang, but with a whimper. You get everything
back that I took. I move on. I gave you that promise more than once."
Edwin spoke up, his voice reassuring me.
"We know you gave us your promise, Damien. Do you keep promises? Or will you
just lead us on?"
I pondered that, wondering idly if I should get angry or not. Nope. Not
really in the mood.
"I'll just say this. Believe me. My word is my bond. Nothing means more to
me than the promises I make to myself and others. That comes of a lifetime of
having promises broken in my face regularly. It gives the promises I make
special meaning. I said two months and all your stuff back. That was a
promise."
"Damien, please," Edwin said quietly. "We just have to know. Because we've
been doing a lot of talking. Cynthia and I. About our relationship. So you
can see how the timing fits in, right?"
Is there life after Damien North? Eight group and foster homes, two juvenile
homes, and ten elementary and secondary schools would have the answer to that
question. Anyway, the doors of perception were open.
"You and Cindy are going to stay together?"
Edwin Van Horn, short, heavy, twice-beaten guidance counselor, wouldn't even
look at me. Cindy answered.
"We're still talking, Damien. But I think we will. Your intrusion into our
lives finally brought us to the negotiating table. We've been getting along
for the last three days. Talking. Making love. It hasn't been like this for
a long time."
I felt my hold over them weaken significantly. They were together. They
presented a unified front. Edwin went for fresh beers. I packed a pipe and
lit up. Cindy regarded me openly, her eyes traveling down my body. For the
first time, she didn't seem to fear or loathe me. How odd. Edwin returned and
we sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I was wondering how I could
retain control over these two. Lacking a plan of action for the moment, I
probed the defenses.
"Cindy, how did you like our liaison in the janitor's closet?"
Her face flushed and she glanced at Edwin.
"I didn't appreciate it at all. You could have got us caught," she said
evenly.
"Yeah, but how about tossing my salad? And me pissing in your hair?"
"I didn't like you pissing on me, you know that."
"What about the other things we've done in the past month? Anything stand out
in your memory?"
"What do you mean, Damien?"
"Did you have some good times? Especially because you were being forced? Did
you get some good orgasms? Enjoy some things you've never done before?"
Edwin spoke. "Damien, one of the things we've talked about is the influence
you have had. Before you came, Cindy had assumed... control... over our
relationship. And we both suffered. Now you've got the control, and we are
free to just feel. And now we feel things together."
It was time for the test.
"So, when we strap little Cindy into the cross tonight, you'll feel her pain
too Edwin? Is that what you're saying?"
Cindy paled. Edwin gulped his beer furiously. Crunch time. And I knew they
had talked about this.
"You want to use that thing in the basement?", my Cindy asked quietly, her eyes
searching my face.
"Oh Yeah. In a big way," I answered putting a little enthusiasm into my voice.
"What do you want to do, Damien?" she almost whispered, her eyes frightened.
"We--Edwin and I--are going to whip your tits. And then your ass," I amended.
Cindy stared at me openmouthed. Edwin cleared his throat uncomfortably. I
waited.
"Damien, is that what you really want to do?", Edwin's voice cracked with
emotion at the thought of his wife's fate.
"Tonight, it is. I've been thinking about it for awhile now."
"Why, Damien, why?", my little school teacher was begging.
"Those magnificent breasts. They are made for attention, Cindy. You know
that. This is just a different kind of attention. Tonight, we'll work out
some of our angst on them. Even you have to appreciate how special they are.
How your life has been dictated by possession such wonderments on your chest?
Even you must be tired of the attention they bring. They are why I came in the
first place. Shouldn't they be punished Cindy? A little whipping while we
play with your pussy?"
Cindy was a little high or I believe she would have balked. Marijuana makes
you too mellow. She was halfway talked in and showed only token resistance to
something that should have sent her screaming out of the room.
"But it will hurt."
I answered smoothly, but firmly. "I'll bet. But think of the fun Edwin and I
will have. Let us take a shot at those hooters, Cindy. Please? Edwin wants
to play. You want to play, don't you Edwin? Answer us."
Our heads swiveled to Edwin Van Horn, who stared fixedly down, refusing to look
at us.
"Ask him Cindy. Ask him if he wants to put you on the cross and whip you."
Silence. Then:
"Edwin?"
Edwin's face took on a tortured look. He slowly raised his face to hers, his
eyes closing. He couldn't look his pretty little schoolteacher wife in the
face.
"Edwin? Is that what you want to do? Put me on the cross? Whip me?"
Cindy's voice clarion clear in pain of wonderment. Exquisite.
Our Edwin was hung motionless and silent; a guilty dog if ever there was one.
Wanting to whip his wife's poor breasts and ass in the company of, and at the
direction of, a fifteen year old boy. But afraid to admit it.
"The lady asked you a question, Edwin. Answer her," I prodded gently.
At the brink of hopeless despair, our man came through. Accepted the
inevitable fact of the matter. Accepted consequence for his actions. Nodded
his head several times. No mistaking that. Cindy relaxed back into her chair.
Thinking. And made her small decision. As if there had been one to make.
"okay." Her voice small.
Time to spring into action.
"Edwin, we'll need you to turn up the furnace. It'll get cold in the basement.
We need the whip, the lotion, and some blankets. A towel. Come down naked.
And get fresh beers and more wine for Cindy."
I waited until he padded away to do my bidding. I turned on my little
schoolteacher who was rocking gently while she studied me. I held my hand out
to her. A true gentleman. Care to dance? She took it after a moment, and I
helped her gently to her feet, in my arms; her undeniable teats pressing
against my chest. Her pretty face pulled back to look up at me. Such a
serious little face.
"You know you are forcing me, right?"
"We are forcing you." A small but important point.
"But you guys are making me do this, right?"
"What's the difference, Cindy?"
"It's just.... that I'm not... volunteering... understand?"
"Understood." Oh yeah. I understand perfectly.
"So, if... you know.... anything happens...."
"Cindy." I put my hands under her heavy fleece sweatshirt, grasping those
brassiered great white tits. "My goal, the point of the exercise, is to make
you do things you don't want to do. Exclusively for my benefit. And to make
your husband help me. But if we can make you cum, while I'm punishing those
bad old titties well damn, that would be something wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, but you understand right? That it would be like an orgasm I wouldn't
have normally. So it's not my fault. Right?"
Time to stop teasing and give absolution.
"Cindy, as long as I'm making you do these terrible things, any stimulation
that you receive can just be regarded as normal for any woman under such trying
circumstances. I understand what you're saying. I understand that you don't
like having your tits whipped, okay?" My hands massaged her huge soft breasts;
she allowing me to maul them to keep my attention while she babbled. But her
point made, she slipped away, leaving my hands empty.
"Get downstairs," I ordered, my stomach fluttery with what we were going to do.
My schoolteacher headed downstairs, into the huge basement. Straight into
Edwin's workroom. The black wooden crucifix stood bolted to the wall as he had
left it. And a small typing table made over into a carpeted whipping table in
the center of the room. My Cindy paced the room nervously. Stoned or not, she
was nervous. I stripped quickly and sat down in a folding chair. My Cindy
paced and stared at me. I sensed that she liked my body. I do have a nice
body for a fifteen year old. Nice abdominals; slim hips, fair-sized penis.
And the face of an angel.
"Cindy, come here."
Cindy stopped pacing and approached me. Knelt down at my gesture.
"Do you like my body, Cindy?"
She flushed and looked down. "You're just a kid, Damien. A child."
"Do you like my body?"
My schoolteacher looked away. I gently led her chin around to face me; her
eyes glassy, her face red. "Well?", I demanded.
"You have a nice body, okay?", her voice imploring. My cock jutting towards
her face. Her eyes drawn to it like a cobra that must be watched every second
lest it spit venom.
"More."
"I like your body. It's young and tight. Your.... thing... sticks straight
up. Okay?" My teacher was humiliated. I rubbed my penis gently over her
face. The furnace kicked on and footsteps sounded on the stair. Edwin coming
to join us.
"Take you clothes off, Mrs. Van Horn. Time to get going. How about we show
your husband that trick you learned?"
"What trick?"
"The one with my cock in your mouth."
"Oh no, Damien. No..."
"Take your clothes off."
"Damien, that thing you made me do..."
"Take your clothes off."
"I don't want... you know...."
"I know I told you twice now to take your clothes off. That's what I know.
Now do it before I get pissed."
My pretty little schoolteacher arose. Her face a study in desperation. Afraid
to appeal further for leniency. Afraid she had already angered me. She turned
on me and tugged her sweatpants down, along with her white panties. She
stepped out of the pants, leaving them in a jumble at her feet. Her beautiful
ass a yard away from my face. I fought an urge to bury my face in there until
I smothered. Her hands expertly slipping the bulky sweatshirt off and then off
came that white bra, spilling those soft white titties into the room. The size
of those breasts surprising big on such a small frame. The dusky pink pancake
aureoles shockingly erotic. Oh Mama.
Edwin hit the room and stopped at the sight of his wife stripped and ready.
Wondering if we started without him. Edwin dumped his load of requested items
off on the workbench, then carefully placed his eyeglasses down. I bounced out
of my chair, thrumming with energy for the first time that day.
"You get everything, Ed?"
"Yeah," Edwin replied huskily. I told him to strip. Cynthia and I both
watched him as he awkwardly doffed his clothes. I can see what Cynthia meant
about my body being young and tight. But Edward's penis was stiff as he pulled
down his underpants. No mistaking that. I stepped to the front of the
crucifix.
"For my first trick I'll need a female volunteer."
Our Cindy looked self-consciously around and then despondently raised her hand.
"You. The blonde little lady with the big rack. Huge nipples you have. Step
forward. Don't be shy."
Cindy padded forward, her breasts bouncing slightly as she moved. She joined
me and I put an arm around her waist swinging her around to address Edwin. Or
my hand started at her waist. It slid up to cup her far breast.
"This trick involves a huge amount of self-control. I call it the Disappearing
Urine trick. As my beautiful assistant kneels near the floor drain yonder, I
will endeavor to bend this seven inch flesh rod you see before you, from it's
present upright angle down to at least horizontal; using only one hand and the
power of my mind. I will then make urine flow out of this rod and onto my
assistant's beautiful tummy and thighs. For the final part of the trick, my
assistant will engulf this rod and the rest of the urine will disappear down
her throat. I will admit to you that this little lady had attempted the trick
once with disastrous results. That makes this attempt so much more delicious,
don't you think?"
My little assistant tried to pull away from me, but I held her fast. Marijuana
high or not, she didn't want to repeat her performance in the janitor's closet.
When she settled down at my side I let go of her and gave her a little nudge
towards the floor drain. She stumbled, then turned to face me. Edwin went
back to the bench and put his glasses on. His cock stood out before him.
"Do we have to do this? Isn't that whipping thing enough?", my little Cindy
wailed.
"Of course we don't have to do it. We want to do it, right? Besides, Edwin
didn't get to see us in the janitor's closet. Let's relive a fond memory, at
least for him, if not for you. And how is Ed going to learn to drink if
someone doesn't show him it can be done? All right, enough talk. Get into
position."
My little naked schoolteacher shambled ungracefully to the floor drain and
knelt down on her knees, weight back, facing me.
"Come closer, Ed. You don't want to miss this," I assured him.
Edwin sidled closer to us, trying his best to appear reluctant; close enough to
see plainly the small tears in her eyes as she waited for the deluge. I stood
to the side of my pretty little schoolteacher.
"Watch closely Ed. You can handle yourself if you want. Cindy, I want you to
watch Edwin's eyes. Don't take your eyes off his. Understand?"
My Cindy nodded unhappily. Edwin planted one hand on his penis and stroked
unconsciously, waiting for the show. I did multiplication tables and filled my
head with thoughts of running water. Nothing happened for the first minute.
Stage fright? Then I felt the first drops edging their way out of my body.
They dropped to the tile floor far short of their intended target. Then the
reinforcements came en masse and my pale urine flowed, crossing the distance
between my body and my pretty little schoolteacher. I inundated her, striking
her delicious stomach and thighs with my flow. She flinched at my warm
attentions. Careful not to spray her breasts because of my future designs on
them, I watered my teacher, playing my small stream over the her shorn pubis at
the juncture of her thighs. While her husband gawked at the site of a fifteen
year old pissing on his beautiful little wife as she knelt on a floor drain
staring up bravely into her loving husband's eyes. As my pale affectio n
slowed, a strange thing happened. A warm glob of semen, not my own, struck my
hand. A second jet overshot me, striking my little beauty on her tummy. I
turned and watched Edwin Van Horn grunting and shooting his wad on his wife as
she looked up at him with an indecipherable look on her face.
I held my hand out and brushed it up against Cindy's mouth. She knew it was
coming and her lips closed on it, pulling her husband's errant wad off my skin
and into her mouth. Semen in the mouth was not something she relished; I had
learned and exploited that fact early on in this relationship. Stepping up to
my teacher as my urine dribbled off, I watched her make another conscious
decision.
"Now for the last part of the trick. My lovely assistant will accept this bent
rod into her mouth and the remaining urine will disappear!"
And I stepped into my pretty teacher's face. Her mouth opened and accepted me
as her eyes slid up my chest to my face. I stared back down at her pretty
face. And contracted my muscles, shooting my cleansing jets of urine into her
mouth. And I watched her swallow and keep it down. Her mouth warm on my
penis, which had every intention of stiffening and staying in her mouth for
awhile. Instead, I nodded to her and backed off reluctantly.
"Edwin, do you have to go to the bathroom before we get started?"
Edwin shook his head quickly. "No... I... uh... went upstairs."
"More's the pity, Edwin. I can't tell you how fun that was. Anyway, give her
a big hug and then strap her to the cross."
And my Edwin helped his tearstained little wife up, taking that opportunity to
hug her and grind his spent penis into her belly. He then led her to the
crucifix he had built. She took a big swallow of her wine before he slowly
took her right arm and fastened it into the velcro loop at the arm of the
cross. Then he took her left arm and fastened that. My little teacher stood
arms outstretched fastened to the cross. Her huge breasts spilling down her
chest. Edwin knelt and spread her feet about two feet apart before securing
them. I stepped in and rubbed my penis lightly into her belly. My teacher's
face with one last spark of hope.
"Damien, Please. I don't want this."
"I do. I've never whipped anyone. It'll be cool."
"We can do other things then. Other things you've never done..."
"No. I better stick with this, Mrs. Van Horn. It'll be over in a few minutes."
And I grabbed my teacher's big-nippled breasts in an agony of lust. I squeezed
them like Charmin. I licked them, preparing them for the sting of the whip. I
hefted and dropped those heavy tits just to watch gravity try to pull them off
this small chest. Finally, I hauled one up to Cindy's face and pressed the
nipple against her mouth.
"Open."
Her mouth opened and I popped the nipple of her large breast inside. I watched
her tongue circle the dusky aureole. With tears in her eyes. Erotic indeed.
I dropped the heavy breast and stepped back. I grabbed the liquorice whip from
the counter and made a nice preliminary swoosh in the air. I had everyone's
attention.
"Edwin, you get down between her legs with the vibrator. She's going to need
all the help she can get. Understand?"
Edwin took off his glasses and laid them back on the workbench. He seemed
reluctant; a slow old chunky teacher. I considered running a preliminary blow
across his ass to get him moving.
"I don't know, Damien..."
"You don't know what, Ed? You don't know why we got to keep going now that you
shot your load? Fuck you, get down on it. Go."
"It's just that..." he began.
"Stop. Just stop, Edwin. Here's the deal. Take it or leave it. You trade
places with Cynthia. You take the whipping across your chest and ass. I fuck
you, then your wife runs that vibrator up your ass. Do you want to trade?"
And my guidance counselor slipped to his knees, vibrator in hand and hugged his
little wife's hips. And kissed the unwiped lips of her sex before switching
the powerful vibrator on and plying her with it. Whip in hand, I assumed a
balanced position in front of my target.
I honestly didn't know what to expect from this whipping. I hadn't whipped
anyone before and really didn't know what would happen. I didn't even know why
I wanted to whip Cindy's tits. I just know that I wanted to. And so I did.
I brought the first stroke in from the side, a medium speed strike onto her
left breast. My teacher gasped in sudden pain. Her eyes locked shut and her
shoulders rounded down and in a futile attempt to protect that wonderful chest.
Her legs stiffened and stretched upward. My second shot was a backhand onto
her right breast. She let out a little scream, and one of her legs came up
momentarily off the floor. I found my rhythm and commenced to whip my
teacher's breasts with sidearm swings. I swung hard now, and my teacher
screamed at each impact. Her tender breasts turned pink quickly as I whipped
them. They swung at each impact onto them, and swung again as my poor little
teacher attempted to avoid the lashes. I quickly found that she had started to
anticipate my blows. So I varied my strikes. Two hard ones on the left. A
long pause. Another hard one on the left. My teacher screamed anew, high,
piping screams of pain and discomfort. Her breasts very pink now. But then I
noticed something else. My teacher rubbing her crotch against the vibrator her
husband held to her clitoris. As I whipped her breasts. I finished with a
varied flurry of fast hard swings across my body, each striking hard and quick
into her sensitive flesh, my teacher almost incoherent now with the constant
impacts on her teats. I stopped, panting. Almost seventy if I was any judge.
My teacher's eyes were locked shut, tears streaming down her face. Crying
softly, her huge chest heaving provocatively, each breast a study in
tenderness. I wetted the index finger of my left hand and stepped to the right
side of my teacher, grinding my hard penis into the top of her hip bone. I
reached behind her marvelous ass and dug my finger into her little rectum. And
felt it contract in little spasms around my finger. My poor little teacher was
coming. I withdrew my finger, determined to make it good for her. I brought
my whip down onto her jugs from overhead. I rained blows on them from on high,
her screams renewed as new parts of her breasts were introduced to the
liquorice cat o' nine tails. No blood, no permanent marks. But damn, I bet it
stung. And my teacher came. Until I could whip no more. I stepped back,
sweat on my brow, panting like a dog. My hard-on throbbing painfully.
Edwin Van Horn looked up from his kneeling position. Looked at his wife's sore
dugs at the same moment her tearstained eyes opened. Mutely, they examined her
new pink breasts together. As man and wife they inspected the condition of her
chest dowry. Cindy's sobs were quieter now, and I know she was relieved to see
that her flesh was intact.
"Let her loose, Ed. Turn her around."
Edwin Van Horn rose stiffly to his feet and clumsily unfastened the velcro
straps that had restrained my teacher. As soon as her hands were free, Cindy
tenderly lifted her sore breasts and cradled them, sobbing quietly now. Edwin
shuffled his feet uncomfortably, then turned to me.
"How about calling it a night, Damien? Maybe you cum somehow, and we call it a
night?"
"No."
"Why not? Look, Cindy's been through enough already. She can't do much more.
How about it? We give her a break and go upstairs and have some fun? The
three of us, I mean," he added quickly.
I stared at Edwin and he stared at me. I had him. And so I turned to Cindy.
"Cindy, can we continue for awhile?"
She looked up from cradling her wonderfully tender breasts. She said nothing
for a moment, then whispered, "go ahead."
Edwin's jaw almost dropped to the floor. He rushed to his shining bride and
gently hugged her, careful not to bruise the flesh of her pink hanging
grapefruits.
"Honey, you don't want to go on, do you?"
"let's go," Cindy stated louder and more firmly now. Edwin was lost in
confusion.
"Edwin, tie her to the cross. Ass out for whipping. And hurry up," I added,
horny as a goat.
Edwin slowly turned his wife to the wall and secured her feet to the bottom
members, legs spread about two feet apart. He gently pried her hands from her
bosom and replaced them into the velcro straps. My teacher's flawless
alabaster behind was presented to our view. I longed to just walk up and jab
my cock between those cheeks for a minute or two. But that would ruin the
show. I tossed the whip to Edward. He made an uncoordinated attempt to catch
it, then bent over to pick it up off the floor.
"Edwin, give me forty hard ones. Twenty across both cheeks, then alternate
strikes to each cheek. Forty, Edwin. I need to see that ass jiggling in pain.
Cindy needs that, understand?"
"No, I don't understand, Damien. I don't understand at all," Edwin said,
irritated by his own ignorance.
"It's simple, Edwin. Cindy is proving something to me. To us. Can't you
see?"
"No," Edwin insisted, obstinate bastard that he was.
"Get moving on that asswhipping then, if you're going to be so blind," I
ordered.
"Damien, I can't do this. I..." And Edwin stopped speaking. He was staring
in puzzlement at his wife's ass. And he crept closer and bent down. I
followed him, cautious and curious. And I saw what Edwin saw. And we were
befuddled. We were from Mars.
A smear of darkish red blood clung to the inside of Cindy's beautiful thighs.
What the fuck? And finally, it hit us.
"Cindy, you're bleeding!", Edwin squealed. Cindy's head turned in alarm.
"You're bleeding between your legs!" Edwin made to untie her immediately.
Cindy's head ducked down, looking down past her damaged breasts. And she
realized what was going on.
"Shit. I started my period. I need a tampon. Let me down for a minute guys.
I need to take care of myself."
And Edwin was all for letting her down. I stopped him with one word.
"Don't."
Edwin froze for a second. He was still upset, almost hysterical from his
little discovery. He whirled on me, whip in his right hand, left hand balled
into a fist, and I prepared myself for the third and final fight. I didn't
want to fight Edwin. I had come to admire him in a minor way. The guy was a
survivor. But I had to fight him again then survival would be the only
realistic goal he could aspire to. It would be his own, personal Armageddon.
"We've got to let her down to take care of herself! Don't you get it?", he
screamed, almost daring to advance on me.
"We're not done," I said quietly. "We started that period by whipping her.
Isn't that kind of exciting? Anyway, we'll be done in a little while. Then
she can get cleaned up. She don't mind, do you, Cindy? Can we get going?"
Cindy slumped down in her restraints. Resigned. It went against all decency
and hygiene, but she accepted it.
"Let's get this over with," was all she said.
Edwin stared confusedly at his little wife's pretty butt, then back at me. He
didn't know what to say. Or what to do. So I told him again.
"Edwin? Forty across the butt? Remember?"
Edwin Van Horn turned to his wife's nude form. He stared at the smear of
menstrual blood on her thighs. A shudder ran through him. Then he side-armed
that whip and crashed it into Cindy's right buttcheek. She stiffened, the
muscles of her beautiful derriere bunching in pain. She gasped, all the air
leaving her lungs. The next stroke caught both cheeks squarely, bouncing off
her beautiful ass. And my teacher cried out and started to cry. And we were
off again. He laid into her, striking her clenched bottom remorselessly,
drawing fresh cries with each stroke. And my pretty little teacher's wonderful
butt turned pink with pain as he worked her over. She cried, releasing her
anguish upon the room. Her ass gradually loosened as she couldn't hold herself
taut anymore and the strikes took on a more mellow striking sound. It was
wonderful. It was over too soon. And I'm the one who stopped it when I
realized that Edwin hadn't been counting. I stopped him after 51 strokes on
that pink ass; my teacher's soft sobs and Edwin's harsh panting the only sounds
left in the room.
"Take her down Ed. Put her over the little table. Kneel down at her head and
kiss her. Tell her what a good girl she's been."
I was almost panting myself. I had to get off.
Edwin dropped the whip and stepped in quickly to release his wife from the
crucifix he had built with the torture of his little wife in mind. After
freeing her, he held her softly, careful not to press against her breasts. And
I felt a little bit jealous. Not angrily jealous, just jealous. There had
never been anyone to hold me when I was in distress; never anyone for me to
comfort, either.
He led her slowly to the short typing table he had padded and she lay slowly
over the top, careful to allow her swollen breasts to lay down at their own
pace before lying atop them. Edwin gently secured her legs and hands to the
four corners, exposing her reddened backside to me. He knelt down next to
Cindy and started gently kissing her face. Stroking her hair. I grabbed the
bottle of lubricant and lubed my penis. Damn, that felt good. But not as good
as my teacher's ass would feel. And so I stepped in behind her and parted her
cheeks. She moaned in her throat and Edwin looked up briefly in consternation,
then went back to kissing our darling. I pried her cheeks apart and viewed her
beautiful light brown anus, nestled betwixt those beautiful, tender globes.
The dark menstrual blood had dried on her thighs and a unfamiliar smell wafted
up to me. Strange and exotic, I knew instinctively that it was the smell of a
woman in menses. What mysteries I had yet to learn.
I lay my penis in the groove leading up to her brown winkie and slid forward.
Her anus caught and held me there, and our parts struggled to establish
dominance. My throbbing cock was most insistent, and I slipped partially into
her. My schoolteacher gasped in discomfort, and Edwin nuzzled her face,
whispering something into her ear. Something comforting I hoped. Because in
the next few seconds, I backed off and reapplied myself in her ass. And I
skewered her. Her back rose up for a few seconds and I rode her sweet
distress. Then she lay back down on her belly and accepted me. With her
husband whispering sweet nothings in her ear. A fifteen year old lodged up her
ass.
Her guts were warm and inviting; so clasping and malleable and red as I stroked
slowly in and out. Exquisite feeling. And I still felt her attempts to
dislodge me. Good for me, bad for her.
I felt the extra warmth from her whipped cheeks on my thighs and I pressed hard
against her tender buttocks, fresh from the whipping post.
I leaned evermore forward, putting more and more of my weight behind my penis
as I bored into my teacher-love. Trying to bury myself into her. She grunted
and grunted at each stroke, an unladylike sound which played like music to my
ears. Nice to know such a small thing could cause such sounds. I put my full
weight down and flattened her asscheeks under me. And I came, gushing up her
ass canal. Easily a week's worth of semen fled me, vastly preferring the
stinkhole of my love. It was my turn to arch my back and groan aloud. My
prostate spasmed almost painfully as I evacuated inside my teacher. I lay atop
her wonderful ass, dully hearing her grunts and labored breathing as the
remains of my spend trickled out of me and into her. Finally, I laboriously
dragged myself off her but still buried to the root up her back passage. I
filed a mental picture of myself disappearing into her. Moving slowly back, my
flaccid penis pulled out, slimed with my cream, yet clean for having occu pied
such a space for such a time. I held my teacher's cheeks gently apart.
Cindy's breathing slowed as she rested. Her anus was angry and open in silent
protest to my invasion. Like Hungary. I saw the tailings of my semen
glistening just within. I released her cheeks and her asshole closed slowly,
hiding from my view. I was physically satiated for the moment. But my mind
still raced.
"Switch," I ordered Edwin Van Horn.
"Switch?", he echoed, dumbly.
"Yes. Switch. I go to the head. You come to the butt. It's your turn up
there. I left it lubed for you. It's nice up there--it really is." I spoke
encouragingly.
Edwin Van Horn looked at me and then at his restrained wife uncertainly.
"Go, Ed. It's a free ride up the back road. She doesn't let you up there.
She told me."
Edwin was a picture of nervous doubt. He blushed like a bride.
"Do it. She doesn't mind. Not after everything that's happened. Don't
worry--you'll get your chance to make it all better. So go."
Poor Edwin finally rose, his knees popping from kneeling down. He shambled
down towards the bottom of the small table. His penis was semi-erect already.
For my part, I walked up the other side of Cindy towards her head. She looked
up and regarded me silently and calmly as I stood at her face, my penis
dangling languorously in front of her. Edwin looked at the two of us,
concerned that I would demand that she take my cock into her mouth. Unsoiled
by her but still fresh from her ass.
"Please don't," he asked, humbly on her behalf. Ever the gentleman.
"I won't. I wouldn't unless she wanted me to. Even I've got limits," I
answered, looking at my pretty little schoolteacher's upturned face as I spoke.
I couldn't read her expression. I did know that it wasn't fear or hate. It
wasn't love or devotion either. It might had been peace.
I knelt down at my teacher's head and watched over her left shoulder as Edwin
stepped into the batter's box between her spread legs. Between the red
cushiony buttocks of our mutual interest. He parted her cheeks slightly and
viewed the miasma I had left to pave the way to the core of her
gastro-intestinal tract. And the blood of our sacrificial lamb drying on the
inside of her thighs. His penis jutted straight and strong now, though he
lacked the gravity-defying angle of my fifteen year-old prong. But he was
ready and he leaned forward to insert his penis into his wife's used asshole.
She grunted just a bit as she accepted her husband into her butt. Her primary
focus was on me. It was highly unnerving. I knew she wanted to talk. To
communicate. She was just waiting for me to initiate conversation. Which I
dearly did not want to do. She wanted me to whisper to her while her husband
worked himself off in her least favorite orifice. Women use communication as
their secret we apon. They control language; tame it and train it and shape
it. To be used when they know a man doesn't want to talk. A trap men only
recognize after it's been sprung. I knew I was in trouble. I knew I had been
trapped. And so I fought as best I could in the words our Creator gave us.
Hoping to escape intact.
"You having a good time?" I asked smugly, leaning in, our cheeks brushing as I
spoke into her right ear, pretending only cursory politeness.
"I'll be okay, Damien. Are you getting what you came for? I did it, didn't
I?", my pretty little teacher murmured. Implied request for acknowledgment.
"Yeah. You did," I grudgingly admitted, as form dictated.
"You liked it?"
"Yeah. It was great. But we're not done, you know," I added quickly and
almost loudly; Edwin's attuned ear picking up this part of our whispered
conversation as he sawed into his wife's rear end. He glanced myopically at us
before resuming his battering. But, buried in her most intimate place, he was
odd-man out. Now there's a paradox for you.
"I know. You'll have something else before you're done. You are getting
predictable." my teacher's voice was chiding. And I was alarmed, feeling the
power shift. From the strong to the weak because the weak proved they could
take it.
"We'll see. We'll see when Edwin gets done. I've got a surprise activity for
you both. It'll be a cleansing experience," I promised cryptically.
"Okay," was all she said. Totally accepting. Unreacting. Slightly amusing
and irritating all at the same time. Adorable and worthy of regard.
"Kiss me," I challenged.
My pretty little teacher's head cocked towards mine and we kissed. Our mouth's
parted and my teacher's tongue slid into my mouth. Our tongues rubbed and
mock-fought. For almost a minute we kissed. Right through the moments when
Edwin stiffened and leaned forward, flattening his wife's asscheeks as he shot
his wad up her ass. We broke off our kiss. My face carried a look of
pleasure. My teacher's face showed the smallest trace of a smile. And then I
realized who had been dominant in that kiss. Her tongue in my mouth. The
older woman schooling the inexperienced, impetuous and over-excited youth. She
had won that round easily. And she knew that I knew. Suddenly, I didn't mind
losing though.
Edwin backed off his wife and made his way over to the workbench, seeking his
glasses. Figuring that we were done. It was time to disabuse him. Somebody
else had to be a victim.
"What are you doing?"
Edwin turned; his glasses in his hands once more. He was confused.
"What?"
I said it again. "What are you doing? We're not done yet."
"What do you mean, Damien? I don't understand."
I made an inquiry and a challenge to my little teacher, restrained over the
table, semen pooling inside her ass.
"You got to go to the bathroom, Cindy? You got to go right now? Or can you
wait a few minutes? I ask because I remember that one time where you
crab-walked out the bedroom when I was done buttfucking you. You barely made
it to the toilet."
Cindy looked up from the table, craning her neck to address me.
"I'm okay. I just need to go get a pad. I'm bleeding pretty good."
"Let her up, Ed."
"That's what I was going to do, Damien," Edwin said somewhat testily. He went
to our little schoolteacher and quickly undid the leg and arm restraints. He
pulled her gently to her feet and hugged her softly. Her ass was to me and I
could see a glistening between her cheeks. I walked over and grabbed the
blanket and spread it out on the floor. My couple of lovebirds watched me. A
thin drip of blood crawled down Cindy's thigh. I grabbed the vibrator and the
lubricant and knelt on the blanket.
"C'mon you guys. Get down on the blanket. Edwin, we've made quite a mess of
Cindy's poor bottom and since you were the last one to use it, you'll have to
clean it. If you want to help Cindy with her little problem down there, that
would be nice too. Remember Edwin, you've cum twice tonight. Me and poor
Cindy just once. We have to catch up to you, you horny bastard."
Edwin looked alarmed at being ordered to eat out his soiled wife. He stared at
her as she sat down demurely on the blanket and then laid back slowly on her
back. Her legs spread, showing her bloody gash. She stared back at him, no
expression on her face. I brought the vibrator to her and she accepted it,
turning it on and placing it at her clitoris. Edwin stood stock-still,
probably hoping that I was making an elaborate joke.
"Let's go, Ed. You were only too happy to ejaculate on Cindy while I pissed on
her. Now it's your turn to do something disgusting. Go."
"When do you have to do something disgusting? When is it your turn?", Edwin
demanded, sulkily. I turned on him, smiling graciously.
"Hey man, I'm a guest here. Besides, you don't ask a Chef to do dishes.
Anyway, your penis is starting to jump. Deep down, the idea of using your
tongue to clean your wife appeals to you. Let's not even argue about that
point, okay? If it appealed to me, I'd do it. It appeals to you. So you do
it. Don't worry what I'll think of you. It doesn't matter, so go."
"What are you going to be doing?"
"I've got some lotion for our little teacher's sore breasts."
I knelt down next to my teacher's right side, my penis half-erect. I put some
lubricant into my palm and went to town on my penis, stroking it as only I
could. My teacher's eyes watched my penis as she vibrated herself towards
nirvana. I leaned out over her fabulously tender pink breasts and grabbed the
near one with my left hand. My pretty title schoolteacher moaned. And our
Edwin, down on his knees between her spread legs, separated her thighs with his
hands and applied his face to the semen and blood caked orifices we had
adorned. Pushing her creamy thighs back just a bit to get at her swollen anus.
Noisily licking the blood stains off her thighs before attacking her core.
Blood on his nose from his excavations. And all the while I masturbated over
my teacher's breast while squeezing the other teat to her great dismay. Cindy
moaned, her eyes shut now, plying the vibrator on her clitoris and thrusting
her pelvis slightly while her husband cleaned our leavings from her ass and her
menstrual blood from her vagina.
I stared at my teacher's pretty face; her eyes closed in concentration. Her
pink tits under me. Her husband's face between her thighs. It didn't take
long. I erupted atop my pretty little teacher's large breasts, shooting thin
streams of semen onto her mammaries. I pulled my aim down and pressed myself
into her right tit, gushing my load into her flesh and swirling my ejaculate
into the skin of her aureole. What a good feeling of release. After I was
done, I let loose of my penis and used my index finger to spread my cream on
her large soft breasts. Her eyes opened slightly to watch me. I collected a
glob of mucilage with my index finger and painted her lips until she opened her
mouth and allowed me to feed her my essence. Cindy groaned and bucked up into
Edwin's face. She was coming. I finished spreading my come into her skin
until her chest was a glistening mess. Cindy brought her vibrator to a halt
and Edwin backed off out from between her legs, his face bearing faint t races
of pink-tinged saliva. He would not meet my glance, fearing that I would
condemn him for drinking out of the Red Sea. I was too tired for any of that.
I helped Cindy to her feet and she left immediately, grabbing her clothes as
she fled the room. Edwin finally looked at me after wiping his face on the
towel.
"Are we done for tonight?", he asked.
"Yeah."
"That was weird to say the least."
"Yeah. But it was worth it, wasn't it?"
"I'm not sure how I should answer that. We both did things we wouldn't
normally do, that's for sure."
"Keep it up, Edwin. You're not going to have me around much longer to make you
guys walk with me on the wild side."
He looked at me briefly as if he wanted to say something, then thought better
of it. Me, not being very good at after-sex repartee, gathered my clothes and
made myself ready to walk home. I found Cindy upstairs in the family room,
dressed with keys in hand.
"I'll give you a ride home," she offered. My first inclination was to decline.
But I was somewhat interested in her motives. So I said okay. I climbed into
the passenger side of the Expedition feeling vaguely submissive. My pretty
little schoolteacher driving her student home. Like a good boy. We hadn't
even backed out of the driveway when she started.
"Damien, Edwin and I have been talking the last few days."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. For the first time in several years, Edwin and I are really together.
After that night you surprised me after the bar, I realized what a first class
cunt I had become. I left Edwin behind to deal with you while I went out with
my friends. You made us both pay the price for my mistake." She trailed off,
expectantly.
"Yes, I remember. So?"
"I'm going through changes right now. I'm changing back to the woman Edwin
married. And when I get there, we'll live happily ever after, you better
believe that." Her voice was high and tremulous, daring me to disbelieve.
I was getting more and more tired. This was obviously a re-negotiation based
on a perception of a changed relationship. I spoke up.
"I'm your personal demon, aren't I, Cindy?"
"Damien...," she said, alarmed.
"And what I make you do? It pays you back for being a bitch right? That's how
you see it, don't you? 'I'll submit to Damien. Punish myself by submitting to
Damien. And when I'm good and punished, cleansed by his wrath--when it's
finally over--I go and live happily ever after with poor, dear Edwin. Because
I've paid for my sins', right? You'll have come through my baptism of fire?
Do penance?"
"See-", she started to explain. But I had her. First time I'd figured
anything out that night.
"But happy as you are to be cleansed by my little activities, you still want
some basic rules. No more fucking you in school. No more whipping or peeing.
Don't hit Edwin. Shit like that. Am I right?"
"it's just that-" she protested.
"I understand. I'll tell you what. I'll give you one thing. As my way of
saying thanks for taking the whippings so well. One thing. No more fucking in
school, no more whipping, no more peeing, no more beating Edwin. Which do you
pick? I'll grant you one demonic wish." I made my voice deep and sepulchral
and Cindy fairly shrieked at me.
"STOP THAT! YOU STOP SCARING ME!"
"Okay, Cindy. Which one thing do you pick?"
"I want two things."
"I want two things too, Cindy. And if you don't give me an answer I'm going to
reach down your shirt and squeeze the two things I'm thinking about. Squeeze
them hard. Answer. One thing."
"no more school, I guess," my pretty teacher said disappointed.
"You got it. I won't have any sexual contact with you in school."
"No intercourse or oral sex," my little teacher amended quickly. "Oral Sex is
sexual contact."
"Not according to the President. But I promise no physical contact of any
kind."
"Okay," my teacher agreed, semi-pleased, on the whole, to have won something in
negotiation. It was time to settle the other unfinished business.
"I've learned something since this began and I've got to tell you," I started
out.
She peered over intently at me, a somewhat dangerous habit for someone
maneuvering a four thousand pound machine.
"What, Damien? What have you learned?" her voice coaxing me and rife with
feminine curiosity. A women's need to share experiences, even with a boy. Or
maybe to gather information about my weaknesses? Oh Delilah, just kiss my
short-haired spear before you shave me.
"I... like you and Edwin better now than when this started. I used to think...
people told me... I lack 'empathy'. I didn't have feelings about other people.
But I like you guys better now," I blurted out like a stupid child. And watch
my teacher's pretty face soften with emotion. She spoke; her voice giving.
"Well... maybe I don't believe you're actually Satan anymore, come to ruin my
life. Maybe I see you now as a troubled kid. With horrible ideas about
people's feelings."
I plunged ahead, providing honesty. Know thyself, you know. "Cindy, I believe
that my acts against you and Edwin are a manifestation of my anger towards my
absent parents."
Cindy's eyes snapped open in sudden understanding. She pulled the vehicle to
the side of the road at the corner of my street and stared openly at me.
"Damien, do you think that's true? Edwin and I being surrogate parents that
you're punishing for having abandoned you? My God..." Her voice held horror;
whether for me or for my situation I was afraid to guess. And for probably the
first time in my life, I openly feared rejection. At the hands of this
suburban couple I practically owned, I feared to be named a monster.
"I think it might be true. I don't know," I lied, to hide my shame. I knew.
I just needed to flee. My little confession had stirred the pot too much.
"Damien, what can we do? We have to break this cycle of hate. It's
self-destructive. I should have you talk to Edwin. He's studied these
things."
I jumped out of the vehicle, leaning back in to deliver my message.
"Cindy, this far into the game, I feel like I should finish what I started with
you and Edwin. I love you, even if it doesn't seem like it. Good-night." And
I ran off into the first chilly night of November. Ran away from emotion and
the threat it presented to my once impregnable fortress of self.
The End of Part Seven of Teacher Passes the Test, Spare the Rod and Spoil the
Teacher.
======================================================================
Teacher Passes the Test Parts 1-10 by Shakespeare_I._Aint
Part One: It Was Worth Breaking In
Part Two: Mr. Teacher's Wild Ride
Part Three: Who Sleeps On The Wet Spot?
Part Four: Nothing Like a Facial to Tighten up those Pores
Part Five: Kind Of Slutty For a Cheerleader...
Part Six: Spare The Rod And Spoil the Teacher
Part Seven: What Have You Been Eating?
Part Eight: Now That's Entertainment!
Part Nine: Walk This Way
Part Ten: All Good Things Have To Come Up Your End
=====================================================================
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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