Message-ID: <39426asstr$1038114606@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <aquillae@excite.com> X-AntiAbuse: This header was added to track abuse, please include it with any abuse report X-AntiAbuse: ID = d0b3d5a3a9d505b796af1e521fc72651 Reply-To: aquillae@excite.com From: "Aquillae" <aquillae@excite.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Original-Message-ID: <20021123171130.2713D109EDA@xmxpita.excite.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2002 12:11:30 -0500 (EST) Subject: {ASSM} The Writing Assignment (by Aquillae) (Female tease) Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2002 00:10:06 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/39426> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman The following story may not be reposted on any pay or free site without the written consent of the author. The Writing Assignment Written by Aquillae Copyright November 22, 2002 Story Codes: High School Setting, Female Tease Miss. Sarah Robinson glanced up from her paper work and observed the fidgeting youth. Inwardly she smiled to herself. Never before had she seen `Mr. Cool' rattled and jumping like a small time crook caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Although she would have loved to prolong the torture, enabling her to exact some small revenge for Mr. Marcello's disruptive behavior during her class, Sarah's good nature stopped her. Besides, she had other means to punish the young teen besides silence. A shiver of excitement rushed through her young body. Her nipples tightened and brushed against the lace fabric of her bra as she quickly went through the steps of her plan in her mind. It was wicked. Perhaps even grounds for dismissal should her student tell anyone about her little joke. But she was certain, `Mr. Cool', would appreciate the joke. She glanced over at her prey, and when his dark eyes darted over to the clock, she quickly unbuttoned the top three buttons on her silk white blouse. "Do you know why you are here, Mr. Marcello?" she asked, her head once more tilted down toward the pile of papers on her desk. "Nope." She straightened up in her chair, casually brushed aside the strand of auburn hair that had fallen in front of her face, and looked at him. "Nope?" "No, Miss. Robinson," Tony sat upright in his seat, and folding his hands on the desk, corrected his choice of words. She took off her glasses, pulling a few more strands of long hair free from the bun she had her long auburn hair fashioned in. "Would you like to know why you are here?" Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Yah, sure." Miss. Robinson pushed her chair away form the desk and stood. Making only a show of straightening her short, tight navy blue skirt, she walked around the desk and sat on the front edge facing the young student. She crossed her legs at the ankle. As he had done so often in her class, Tony watched her body go through its beautiful motions as she moved. When she sat on the desk in front of him, his eyes focused on her shapely legs and the blue nylons that caressed them. Near mid thigh, just below the hemline of her tight fitting skirt, Tony could see the barest of space between her skin and the tightly pulled fabric of the skirt. To his great disappointment, the area was shrouded in shadow and he could see nothing extra. Miss. Robinson allowed the young boy the enjoyment of her figure for a brief moment, and then placing her hand down on the pile of papers on her desk, she asked, "Do you know what these are?" Tony pulled himself away form his ogling of his teacher's body and shook his head. "These are the short stories your class had to write and hand in by last Friday." Tony made no comment. "I've read all of them. And I must say, on the whole I'm greatly impressed by the imagination of my students, if not their grammar skills. But there's one student in particular that I'm very impressed with. Do you know which student that might be?" Tony shrugged his shoulders. She placed her hands on her thighs and leaned forward, giving the young boy a generous display of her breasts. "Would you like to know which student it was?" "Sure," Tony replied, taking in the wondrous sight of her beautiful breasts as they threatened to burst out of her blouse. Sarah smiled, turned, and leaned back to grab the stapled group of papers on the top of the pile. As she did so, she displayed for Tony the sensuous curve of her backside, accented by the snug fit of the navy blue skirt she wore. Sitting upright again, Sarah leaned forward and held the papers out for Tony. Tony took them and glanced at the front page. He saw his own name. It was the story he had submitted as his writing assignment. Sarah smiled. "You're the writer that impressed me." Tony pulled out his `Mr. Cool' persona, confident that he now understood why the sexy Miss. Robinson had wanted to meet him in her classroom after school with the door closed. "What can I say, Miss. R. I've got the gift, if you know what I mean." "Oh, I do know, Tony," Sarah replied with eager enthusiasm as she leaned forward, placing her hands flat on her desk, and once more displaying for her young student the ample fullness of her breasts seductively veiled by her silk white blouse and low cut bra. She was certain he could see the deep reddish hue of her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. "I know exactly what you mean." Tony smiled. He always knew the young English teacher was desperate for it. The way she dressed in those sexy little outfits, the way she teasingly played with slipping her glasses on and off as she looked at you, the way she tapped the tip of her ballpoint pen against her lips when she worked on papers at her desk, the way she kept toying with the bottom button to her blazer while she stood and talked to the class about some dead poet or writer, she was desperate for a good fuck. And he, Tony Marcello, aka `Mr. Cool', was the young stud that was going to be giving it to her in her classroom. "Do you mind?" Tony was pulled out of his lustful thoughts by Sarah's question. "Mind?" He wanted to shout `HELL NO', but that wouldn't be cool. It would make him look like he really was a virgin. "No, I don't mind." Then leaning back and extending his legs out under the desk and into the isle, Tony added with a broad grin, "Be my guest." Sarah thanked him, and leaning forward, took the papers back. She slipped her glasses on and then flipped over a few pages. "Ah, here's the section I was looking for." Sarah began to read from the paper. "Kimberly's young body, so desperate and hungry for the first touch it would experience by another's lips, trembled with fear and excitement as she felt her classmate's soft wet lips eagerly kiss the sensitive bud of her young innocent flesh." Sarah stopped reading and placed a hand to her bosom. She sighed. She looked at Tony. "Such beautiful prose." Tony smiled back. "Such depth of emotion. Such..." she hesitated, then taking off her glasses she added breathlessly, "such passion." Tony, like a Cheshire cat, was grinning from ear to ear. "Such a shame I have to give you an F for the assignment." "An F!" Tony struggled to sit up in his seat. "You said you liked it. You said it was the best one." "It was the best one." Sarah placed the story on her desk. "And I did like it." "But then why am I getting an F?" Sarah looked her young student squarely in the eyes. "Because we both know you didn't write it, did you?" "I did so write it." Tony protested as best he could. "I wrote every word of it." "Oh, I've no doubt that you wrote, or rather typed every word of it. But I know for a fact that you didn't write it." Before Tony could reply, Sarah held up a hand to silence him. "Tell me, Tony, do you know what a Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level is? No. Well, simply put, it's a system that measures the minimum grade level required to comprehend a piece of writing. This story that you claim to have written scored a tenth grade level when I entered it into my computer at home." "So? I'm a sophomore, ain't I? Sophomores are grade ten. And that's what I wrote." "It's not quite like that, Tony. The Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level system is not a means of measuring the level of the writer. It only measures how difficult it would be for someone to comprehend the writing." Sarah picked up a small grading book that was open on her desk. "This story, that you claim to have written was on a tenth grade level. The past three assignments from this year, and those that you handed in last year, score on a fifth grade level. Now, either you've been playing possum with us all this time, and you are really an articulate writer, or else..." "Or else what?" Sarah closed the grade book and slowly removed her glasses. "Or else you handed in a story written by someone else." "So." "So, you do know what plagiarism is, don't you, Tony?" "Plagiarism?" Tony started to fidget in his seat again. "Yes, plagiarism." "But it's just a story." He spread his hands out in a show of innocence. "It was just a joke." Sarah hopped off her desk and stood in front of Tony. "Yes. I got the joke part of it. Thought you'd have a little fun handing in a sexy little story and seeing how hot and bothered it might make me. That little joke I can forgive." Sarah placed her hands on his desk and bent over to face him directly. "And just between you, me, and the walls, I thought the story was very erotic." Straightening up, Sarah turned and walked back to her chair. "But now it's my turn for a little joke. Although I doubt if you'll like my joke as much as I liked yours." "What are you going to do?" "Well, technically, I should report this little incident to Mr. Keller." Tony's heart froze in terror at the mention of the school's tough disciplinarian. "I believe the punishment for plagiarism is immediate expulsion." "Expulsion!" Tony nearly jumped out of his seat. "Then of course there's the matter of the criminal charges." "What criminal charges?" "Don't tell me you didn't know that plagiarism is a criminal offense." "But" "But, nothing," she cut him off. "Ignorance of the law is no defense. You of all people should know that. Your father being a lawyer, I mean." She sat down. "You can, of course, appeal the expulsion to the bishop's office." Tony's face brightened with hope at hearing this. "But, in this case I think it would be rather easy to prove plagiarism, given the very distinct writing styles involved." Seeing the frightened expression on her student's face as he contemplated the fallout with his parents for being expelled, Sarah knew that her little joke had been a success, and that now it was time to mercifully end the torture for him. "However," she spoke softly as she lightly tapped the top of her ballpoint pen to her lower lip, "I don't think someone's academic career should be destroyed over one simple little prank." Lost in the swirling visions of his father's wrath, Tony failed to hear her offer to commute his sentence. Sarah glanced at the young boy. "Tony." The young boy froze stiff as if rigger mortis had seized his entire body. She leaned forward and looked him directly in the eyes to make certain he was still with her. "Would you like a second chance?" Slowly seizing on what she meant, Tony nodded and squeaked out a weak yes. "Very well. I'll not report this little incident to Mr. Keller, provided you complete an assignment I have for you." She saw the expression of hope fade from her student's face. "What? You thought I was going to simply let you off the hook without making some sort of restitution?" "Yeah." "As you and your friends are so fond of saying, `fat chance'." Tony, fearing the worst for his sentence, let his shoulders slump as he gazed at the tiled floor. "Don't worry, Tony, your act of contrition wont be that difficult. All I want from you is an interview with the real author of the story." Tony looked up. "But I don't know who wrote it. Honest, Miss. Robinson." "You know where you found it however, don't you?" "Well," Tony tried evading the answer, "yeah, sort of. Iguess." "I guess also. It was from the Internet, wasn't it?" "Yeah." "From an adult website? Or was it one of those newsgroups?" Tony didn't answer. "Fine. You don't have to tell me where you found it. All I require is that you contact the author and interview him or her on their work, and have the article handed in by Friday. Understood." "But what if I can't find the author? Or if he doesn't want to talk to me?" Sarah folded her hands on her desk, and in a slightly cold tone, replied, "Then perhaps you might peek their interest by explaining why you need to interview them. Most authors are not very keen on the idea of their works being stolen. And I'm sure this author would just love to have the opportunity to show you the pains that he or she has gone through to write such stories." Having handed down her sentence, Sarah turned her attention away from her student, and went back to grading the pile of papers. Tony sat silent in his seat. After a few moments, Sarah spoke without lifting her head from her work. "You can leave now, Mr. Marcello." The chair squeaked as he pushed away form the desk and stood. As he turned the handle on the door, Sarah stopped him. "And don't think you can just make up an interview and hand that in. It won't work." Felling a little of his cockiness coming back to him, Tony asked how she would know. Looking up from her work, she gave him just the slightest hint of a smile and commented, "Trust me. I'll know." THE END Comments and or suggestions can be sent to either the newsgroup alt.sex.stories.d or to my email address listed below. Aquillae - The once and future me Aquillae@excite.com http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Aquillae/www _______________________________________________ Join Excite! - http://www.excite.com The most personalized portal on the Web! ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+