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Shakespeare_I._Aint. ALL Rights
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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 affection 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
occupied 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
"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
weapon. 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 traces 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.
*************************************************************
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Email me at Shakespeare_I._Aint@excite.com
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****************************************************************
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