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Message-ID: <37107asstr$1025298604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Norm DePloom" <normdeploom@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha"
Date: Fri, 28 Jun 2002 17:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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(How should I code this one?  Fan fic?  It didn't start out that
way, it just happened.  Oral?  Spanking?  Humiliation?  Well,
maybe.)

If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.
If you don't like stories about sex with underage children, don't
read it.
If you don't like stories bout forced sex, don't read it.
If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read
it.
If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't
read it.

Find my stories here-
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/ftp/pub/Authors/normdeploom/

Copyright c 2002 Norm DePloom.  ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be
contacted at normdeploom@hotmail.com
All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any
resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha
By
Norm DePloom

"There are," Marsha's teacher lectured, "only two activities
proper for a girl.  Being fucked," the teacher said counting off
the two items on the fingers of his right hand, "and waiting
patiently to be fucked."  Marsha's mouth hung open in disbelief as
she looked around the room.  By Marsha's quick estimate about half
of the other students seemed to be as shocked as she was.  The
other half seemed to be listening, and taking notes, as if the
topic of the lecture were the most mundane of academic subjects.  

"You can't talk to us that way."  Marsha screamed standing up
defiantly.

"Shut up and sit down."  Mr. Fuller ordered with an unmistakable
tone of malice in his voice.  Marsha obeyed, promising herself
that she would call her stepfather at the first opportunity. 
Daddy can't possibly know what's going on at this school, Marsha
thought as she smoothed her skirt with both hands and sat down.  
Marsha's years of training and discipline as a straight 'A'
student kicked in and she dutifully made two numbered entries at
the top of the first page of her notebook;
 
1- Being f____d
2- Waiting to be f____d

For the last year, in a fit of wild youthful rebellion, Marsha
had dotted her i's with smiley faces.  Now that she was in high
school, and especially since her step father had enrolled her at
this prestigious girls school, Marsha had decided to go back to
the more traditional, conservative and elegant hearts over her
i's.  Having drawn a small heart above each of the i's in the two
lines she had just written, Marsha sat attentively with pen poised
over her paper.

"There are," Mr. Fuller continued after the interruption, "many
different activities which fall into each of these two main
groups."  Mr. Fuller looked around the room to insure that the
girls were paying attention.  "Today we will concentrate on the
second category. Now, what kinds of activities fall into the
'waiting to be fucked' category?"  Mr. Fuller began pointing to
the braver girls who were raising their hands and, accompanied by
his own running commentary, wrote their suggestions on the board. 
"Yes, dance, you could dance, or more specifically dance naked for
them.  Kiss, yes, you could kiss the men who are with you.  Put on
a show.  Yes masturbating is always highly thought of, especially
with another girl."  As outraged as she was by the content of this
lecture Marsha found herself stimulated by the thoughts Mr.
Fuller' words were inspiring.

"Sucking cock, yes, one of the most popular activities for a girl
to do while she's 'waiting to be fucked'."  Since Mr. Fuller
stopped calling on students, and stopped writing on the blackboard
it was obvious that he had finally elicited the answer he was
looking for from his nubile young charges.  "Now, it should be
clear that all of these 'waiting to be fucked' activities have one
thing in common.  Anybody...Anybody..." Mr. Fuller looked around
the room expectantly.  "Yes?  That's right.  All of your 'waiting
to be fucked' activities should be calculated to encourage the men
you are with to move you on to the 'being fucked' stage as quickly
as possible."  

"For our lab work today," as he talked Mr. Fuller signaled with
his hand, "we are going to concentrate on the 'sucking cocks'
subcategory."  As he finished speaking four, naked, absolute hunks
walked into the room.  Each one a slight variation on the kind of
male who set Marsha's mid-section blazing and made her weak of
knee and mind.  They were followed by four senior girls each of
whom were dressed in the same 'slut schoolgirl' uniform that the
members of Marsha's freshman class were wearing; a white blouse,
short plaid skirt, thigh-high stockings and spiked-heel shoes. 
The girls dropped to their knees and, with obvious experience,
began, first with their hands, then with their lips and tongues,
to stimulate the already growing cocks of the 'models' as Mr.
Fuller referred to them in his running commentary on the older
girls performances.  Marsha watched with a combination of disgust,
curiosity and excitement as each of the four senior girls received
the discharge from a model in her mouth or on her face.  

"Thank you girls," Mr. Fuller said, once the boys were all
finished, "you can go back to your Advanced Anal class now," the
older girls all smiled at Mr. Fuller then walked toward the door,
"and be sure to tell Mr. Garcia I appreciate him loaning you to
me."  Mr. Fuller turned to the four 'models'.  "Send in the next
four." he said by way of excusing the four just spent young men. 
Marsha watched as four more studly dreamboats walked in to stand
naked in front of the class.  

"Now," Mr. Fuller announced, "it's time for the first four of you
young girls to demonstrate what you have learned."  As much as she
dreaded it happening, Marsha knew that it would and, sure enough
after picking three other girls, who all seemed to be eager to try
out the skills they had just witnessed, Mr. Fuller turned in her
direction.  "...and Marsha."  Marsha stood up, her knees almost
buckled under her then, gathering her courage, she dashed out the
door and down the hallway towards the principal's office.  Marsha
wobbled on her spiked-heel shoes and, with each stride her short
plaid skirt worked further up on her legs until the tops of her
thigh high stockings, and the crotch of her white cotton panties
were in plain view.  

"Please," Marsha panted to the principal's secretary as she
skidded to a halt in his outer office, "I've got to..." Marsha's
voice was cut of by a sharp slap across her face.

"...stand in front of my desk with your hands behind your back
and not say a word until I give you permission."  Miss Mossgarten
finished Marsha's sentence.

"...but I..."  Another of Miss Mossgarten's well practiced slaps
silenced Marsha and left her cheek burning as she put her hands
behind her back and waited.  As Marsha stood in front of the
woman's desk, overly aware of the disarrayed state of her clothes,
she grew more uncomfortable with the way Miss Mossgarten looked at
her while discussing the size and shape of one of the teacher's
penises with someone on the other end of the phone. 

"No, I'm telling you, its girth more than makes up for anything
it might be missing in length...yea, I could barely get my lips
around it...either pair..." Miss Mossgarten apparently joined the
person on the other end of the line in laughing at that joke. 
"Well, I'd better hang up...yea, one of our new little sluts is
here to complain...probably wants to call her daddy...yea, talk to
you later, bye."  After hanging up the phone Miss Mossgarten
looked Marsha up and down with a sharp eye that seemed to look
right through Marsha's clothes.

"Mr. Poleman" She finally said after depressing the button on the
intercom.

"Yes Miss Mossgarten."  The principal's voice answered from the
box on her desk.  

"Miss Brady is here."

"Miss Brady?"  Marsha was sure she detected a note of
disappointment in the principal's voice.

"Yes, Miss Brady."  The glee in Miss Mossgarten's voice was
apparent to Marsha.

"OK, send her in."

"I believe I've won the pool, *again*."  Miss Mossgarten reminded
her boss before releasing the button.  "Right through that door,"
Miss Mossgarten pointed to the door into the inner office, "and
keep your hands behind your back."  Marsha walked to the door
wondering how she was supposed to open the door and keep her hands
behind her back at the same time, but the door opened for her and
she stepped through it into the sanctum sanctorum of Mr. Poleman,
the man who ran this school for girls.  Holding his hand up for
silence, Mr. Poleman indicated a spot directly in front of his
desk where she should stand.  Marsha began to blush intensely as
she looked around and realized that there were three other men in
the room.  She became acutely aware of how high her skirt was,
high enough that the two men behind her could see more than half
of her butt.  To add insult to injury Marsha realized that her mad
dash to Mr. Poleman's office had left the crotch of her panties
pulled up into her butt crack.  Now Marsha wanted to be almost
anywhere else.  Being on her knees in front of the class with a
strange hunk's dick in her mouth almost seemed preferable to
having Mr. Poleman openly staring at her barely covered crotch. 
Almost.  On top of everything else, a blast of ice cold air from
the air duct seemed to be pointed directly at her chest; making
her nipples stand up and salute the lecherous old men in the office.

"So, Miss Brady, why does a member of our freshman slut class
want to call her daddy?"  Marsha no longer wanted to do anything
but climb in a hole and pull the dirt in after her, but she put on
her best 'brave' face before she answered.

"I'm sure my stepfather had no idea what kind of place this was
when he enrolled me."  Marsha was flustered by the laughter of the
four men in the office.

"Your stepfather," Mr. Poleman informed Marsha as he wiped a
laugh tear from his eye, "not only inspected the facilities but
spent a week here sampling the members of our graduating class to
insure the quality of our instruction before he paid all four
years tuition for your education, in advance and in cash."  The
laughing slowly died down as a more serious atmosphere permeated
the room.  "He's watching you now." Mr. Poleman said pointing to
the camera up near the ceiling.  "That's why you had to wait in
the outer office," Mr. Poleman continued as he stood up and picked
up the paddle lying on his desk, "so we could make sure he was
online to enjoy your first punishment session."  Without warning
the men in the room pounced on Marsha and, easily overcoming her
struggles, bent her over the back of an overstuffed chair leaving
her ass sticking high in the air.  Approaching from the side, so
that the camera would have an unobstructed view, Mr. Poleman
lifted Marsha's skirt to expose the remainder of her panty-covered
butt.  After pausing for a moment to let Mr. Brady enjoy the
sight, Mr. Poleman ripped Marsha's panties apart at the seam
revealing her bare ass.  As he ran his hand over the perfect,
unblemished, baby-bottom smooth skin of Marsha's butt Mr. Poleman
looked up at the camera.  

"Your step-daughter is one fine piece of ass," Marsha couldn't
believe what she was hearing, and she refused to believe that her
step daddy had knowingly consigned her to this abusive place,
"it's going to be a real pleasure overseeing her slut training for
you, and I mean that literally."  The hand was removed from
Marsha's smooth-skinned ass and a moment later Miss Mossgarten
smiled when she heard Marsha's first scream through the heavy wood
door.  After five whacks with the paddle the sobbing Marsha was
stood up and supported by the men while her skirt was removed and
her blouse was partially unbuttoned and tied in front so it would
not hang down and cover her red butt cheeks.

"Your mother," Mr. Poleman said as he re-arranged Marsha's
clothes, "is going to get a good pounding tonight thanks to the
little show you just put on for your stepfather."

"Now," Mr. Poleman warned Marsha as she was pushed through the
door into the outer office, "get your ass back to class and do
exactly what your teachers tell you to do."  Marsha stumbled
through the outer office, barely aware of Miss Mossgarten's smirk,
and into the hallway.  Unexplainably the hallways leading back to
her class seemed to be filled with her fellow students, young
girls who all seemed to point at her while they giggled behind
their hands.  Marsha's blush deepened, and her humiliation reached
unimagined heights as she stumbled, naked from the waist down,
back to Mr. Fuller's class.  Barely aware of the other students
Marsha made her way to her assigned desk than gingerly lowered her
now tender naked behind onto the hard wood seat.  

"Welcome back to class, Miss Brady."  Marsha was sure she
detected a note of gloating in her tormentor's voice.  "Just relax
and watch these girls," Mr. Fuller continued, indicating the four
girls on their knees moving their mouths up and down the hard
shafts of the four cute boys at the front of the class, "your turn
will come as soon as they do."  Mr. Fuller chuckled pointing to
the four boys whose expressions indicated that her wait would not
be long.  Marsha watched as the boys, in rapid succession, pulled
themselves from the sucking mouths of the young girls and
decorated their faces with liquid adornment.  The girls, most of
them blushing and appearing to be near tears, stood up and walked
back to their desks.  

"Marsha, come up here."  Marsha, her hands trembling and tears
streaming down her red face stood up and walked slowly to the
front of the class.  "No, don't turn around, keep your back to the
class."  Mr. Fuller continued his instructions once she had
reached the place he had designated for her to stand.  "Spread
your legs, a little further, now lean over and grab your ankles." 
Marsha groaned in desperation as she reluctantly followed her
teacher's instructions.  Knowing that her most intimate parts were
exposed for all the other girls to view caused more tears of
humiliation to run from her eyes, across her forehead and into her
hair.  

"Notice Miss Brady's nice red butt cheeks."  Mr. Fuller
instructed the class allowing his hand to softly caress the area
he referred to.  "Their color tells us that Mr. Poleman spanked
our little sluts impertinent ass for her misbehavior.  Marsha
jerked as the palm of his hand brushed, ever so lightly, across
her exposed cunt.  Then she jumped again and the class heard a
moan part of humiliation and part of growing excitement as Mr.
Fuller used his thumb and forefinger to spread her open.  "And
notice the glistening folds of flesh, this tells us that our
little slut Marsha secretly loves to be spanked and humiliated." 
Mr. Fuller released his student's private parts and stepped away
from her.

"Down on your knees."  He ordered ignoring her moan of
disappointment.  Marsha slowly sank to her knees as a good
looking, muscular, naked young man stepped up in front of her. 
"Now, show the class what you've learned."  Mr. Fuller leaned
closer to Marsha's ear as her trembling hand grasped the base of
the young stud's already hard cock.  "Just think of it as a pop
quiz."  He said softly as her lips closed over the cock's velvety
helmet shaped head.  Despite the tears streaming from Marsha's
eyes, she had to fight the urge to bury her unused hand between
her legs.  If I could just call my daddy, Marsha thought as she
suppressed a gag, I'm sure he would take me out of here; he can't
possibly know what's happening.  He couldn't *really* have been
watching while that awful man spanked me.

"Eeeww, yuk."  Marsha said, pulling her head back as the hard
cock erupted in her mouth.  Remaining on her knees, her head
hanging in shame as her tears mixed with the young mans cum and
oozed down her face, Marsha tried to ignore the derisive laughter
of the girls behind her as Mr. Fuller dismissed the rapidly
softening young man.  

"So far," Mr. Fuller said to the class as he grabbed a handful of
Marsha's clean, well-conditioned and expertly coiffed blond hair
and pulled her to her feet, "we have concentrated on one of the
things you young sluts can do while you are waiting to be fucked."
Mr. Fuller walked Marsha over to his desk and bent her face first
over the edge.  "Now we will do some work on the 'being fucked'
part of your lives."  Marsha inhaled sharply, 'yes' she whispered
as she heard the zipper and then Mr. Fuller's pants dropping to
the floor, 'yes please' she whispered arching her back, making
herself more available.

"MARSHA!"

"Wha."  Marsha Brady said jumping at the sound of her name and
the book being slammed on the teacher's desk.  "Wha.what?"

"Will you *please* stop daydreaming and pay attention in class." 
Mr. Fuller said, his voice full of exasperation.  "Now, when was
the Monroe Doctrine signed?"  Marsha breathed a sigh of relief
when the bell rang, then gathered her books and headed for the
classroom door.  Just one more hour, she thought glancing down at
her watch, then I can go home, lock my self in the bedroom and get
out my special toy.








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