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Subject: {ASSM} The Writing Assignment (by Aquillae) (Female tease)
Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2002 00:10:06 -0500
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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



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