index


Message-ID: <38355asstr$1032181806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "she-cries" <she_cries@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: "she-cries" <she_cries@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Breaking in Teacher II (5/5) by she_cries (mF, reluc, exhib, humil)
Date: Mon, 16 Sep 2002 09:10:06 -0400
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




Breaking in the Teacher II part 5/5
(I will repost parts I and II entirety tonight)
by she-cries

(feedback is welcome and encouraged at she_cries@hotmail.com)


LOOSE ENDS



I didn't even try to cover myself, so shocked and dazed I was.

"Mr. Gold."

Mr. Gold appraised me, scanning me over unashamedly, unlike his student, a
kid in a football Jersey with a thick, single brow, stocky around the
midsection like Mr. Gold, but much shorter, almost my height.  He seemed to
wear a perpetual sneer on his face, and was looking frantically in spite of
it, between my naked body, and Mr. Gold, waiting for someone to tell him to
leave, but not willing to go until he was ordered to.

"Wendy, this is a surprise."

I felt the pairs of eyes crawling over my body, but could barely bring
myself to move, much less pull up the towel to cover myself.

But then, like the John's liked to say, they'd already seen me.  What was
the harm in seeing more?

"I needed to take a shower."

Coach grinned, "We require girls shower in their swimsuits, Wendy."

I swallowed.  It seemed that Melanie and her friend had been lying to me
after all, encouraging me to bathe naked, knowing that so many boys would be
coming through.

I tried to look Mr. Gold in the eye, but failed, "I need to get dressed," I
said meekly.

There was a long silence, while the two males looked me over.  I felt like
turning around.

Mr. Gold cleared his throat, "We received a report of some boys coming out
of the locker room, Wendy.  We came in to check it out because no one is
supposed to be in here during lunch."

I nodded, "I heard a couple people come through."

The coach didn't respond, though his kid was getting more and more
comfortable enjoying the view, which neither the coach, nor I appeared to be
forbidding him.

"Please, Mr. Gold." I sounded barely audible, "Can I go get something on?"

Suddenly the coach slapped the boy next to him on the back, "Wendy, I'd like
you to meet my new center.  Ronnie, this is Wendy, she'll be your sex ed
teacher next year."

"Hi Wendy." Ronnie growled, his voice gravelly and nasal.

"M-Miss Caulder." I stammered.

The coach let out a short, sharp laugh, "We don't stand on formality here,
Wendy.  He won't be yours till the Fall."  He set a hand on my shoulder,
quickly sliding it down my back and grabbing my butt, while I stood there,
letting him.

"Mr. Gold, we talked about."

He looked me straight in the eye, and said with all sincerity, "We did, and
you are right, Wendy." But he gave me a little pat on the butt nonetheless,
raising his eyebrows at the boy before turning back to me, "But you can't
blame me for being a little opportunistic, can you?"

His smile was disarming, although I didn't trust it, "No, but I do have to
go."

He didn't even seem to have heard me, "I teach all my boys to take advantage
of what little chances life throws in their laps, don't you think that's
good advice?"

I felt the pit of my stomach tightening up, "Uh huh."

Mr. Gold's hands were running up and down over my back, now.  He was in
effect, holding me to face Ronnie, who leered at me with abandon in light of
his coaches behavior, showing me off to the boy, "Sorry, Wendy, what was
that?"

I crossed my arms in front of me, suddenly very ashamed, trying to make the
towel cover more than it could, "I think you're right, Mr. Gold, but you
should consider-"

"That's right!" Mr. Gold barked, interrupting me.  "Now," he continued,
letting go of me, "I'm going to check out this locker room head to toe.
Ronnie!"

The boy snapped to attention, tearing his eyes away from me.

Mr. Gold stepped between Ronnie and myself, keeping a hand on each of us,
"Now I don't know who's in here, so I'm going to leave Ronnie with you,
Wendy." He turned to his pupil, "Don't let her out of your sight."

The boy nodded curtly, then peered at me as if obeying instructions.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, and we can get you to your locker." He
patted me on the shoulder, but didn't wait for a reply.  "In the meantime,
perhaps you can give Ronnie a taste of what you class is going to be like.
Like you did for my boys yesterday." And with a grin he slapped me on the
behind and, whistling, marched off down the hallway.

"Hi Wendy." The gravelly voice came groaning out.

I clutched the towel to my front while the boy began circling me, "This isn'
t what you think, Ronnie."

"Coach said not to take my eyes off of you."

"Look, Ronnie, Coach Gold is mad about something that happened this
afternoon.  He's using you to get back at me."

"Right on."

The boy was either malicious, or denser than even John-two, which was to
say: as a brick.  Ronnie circled around behind me, and I spun to keep the
towel between us.

"Look, Ronnie, I have to go." And I made to walk down the aisle, but Ronnie
intercepted me, our chests colliding, but he didn't make to grab me, "Coach
said to wait right here."

"Coach doesn't have that authority.  I told you, he's using you."

"What did you do?"

Had I seen a glimmer of intelligence in the young center's eyes?

"N-none of your bus-" I stammered,

"You want me to do what you want, but you won't even tell me why."

I fumed, biting back a sarcastic retort.  "Coach wanted to. have sex."

"And you said no?"

I nodded.

He looked me over.

"What else?"

"That's it," I shrugged, inadvertently dropping half the towel and flashing
the boy, who perked up, but I snatched it up and wrapped it around me,
covering both front and back while the boy tried to catch fleeting glimpses.

"Why'd you say no?"

I peered at the kid, "He's." twice my age, fat, married, I tried to say, but
that hadn't stopped me from spreading my legs for him yesterday.

"He's a dick.  You saw how he treated me."

"You seemed pretty cozy, what with you being naked and all."

I sighed, "We've done it before."

This seemed to confuse him, "You and coach?"

I nodded, and watched his face light up in a big smile, as if he understood
me now, or worse, that he understood why coach had left him alone with me.

I quickly cut that thought off, "But that's over.  I told him today."

His smile faded slightly.  "What did you do with the coach?"

I frowned at the boy, "What do you think?"

He shrugged, stepping closer, the smell of onion on his breath and his BO
rather strong, "I think you fucked him, but I want you to tell me."

This time I held still while he paced around me, "I fucked him, I.  I let
him take me in the temp building, down the hill."

"Bottom or top?"

I looked at the boy, very close now, "What does it matter?"

"I want the details."

I peered at him, looking straight on at the short boy, "I'm not going to
fuck you, Ronnie."

He shrugged, "That's cool."

But instead of accepting that he unzipped his shorts and pulled out his
dick.  A short, stubby, unimpressive thing, and he started stroking it.

"Ronnie.  What are you- Put that away!"  I tried not to look, but I couldn't
peel my eyes away from his little member.

"Could you take off that towel?"

I couldn't believe that he was actually going to just ignore me and jerk
off, like I was some sort of peepshow girl.  It wasn't as if I hadn't given
the impression that I was going along to the other boys.  He was actually
defying me.  I sat down, clutching my arms around me, but that only allowed
him to step up closer, jerking his dick in my face.

"Come on, I just need to see some skin."

"You've already seen me." I huffed, forcing myself to look away.

"Just a tit?"

But it was obvious he didn't need anything to stimulate him.  He was pumping
hard and starting to breath heavy.

Regardless, I signed, and wanting to get this over with I pulled the towel
off and let him feast his eyes on me once more.

"You are not to tell anyone about this, okay?"

"Sure thing teacher." He said, reaching out a hand to grope my breast.

"My name is Miss Caulder."

He stepped even closer, spanking his dick right in my face, but I made no
move away from him, nor did I remove his hand.

"Coach called you 'Wendy.'"

"That's my first name." And I found him parting my legs with his knees, so
he could get even closer.  I humbly acquiesced to the pressure.

"Well, Wendy, don't this put us on a first name basis." And he let out a
groan, wavering, accidentally bashing me lightly in the nose with his
pumping fist.

"Careful."

"Sorry, baby." But he was intent on pumping.

"I preferred it when you called me Wendy." But I found myself putting my
hands on his bottom, to help hold him steady as he aimed at my face.  "Are
you going to be much longer?" I asked, glancing sidelong down the aisle of
lockers for Coach Gold's return.

"It won't if you'd shut the fuck up."

"Sorry" I mumbled before realizing I should have reprimanded the boy.
Instead I shut up, waiting patiently for him to cum.



When Mr. Gold found me I was alone, splattered head to tit in Ronnie's
semen.  He had arrived almost like clockwork after Ronnie had done his thing
and split.  He had a great big grin on his face, "My god that boy had a lot
of spunk in him."

I nodded, sheepishly.

"Boy's got a lot of potential, but he's got a lot to learn.  In my day I'd
have had you on your back in under a minute."

I glared up at him, "Don't count on it."

He leaned down to look me in the eye, "It only took me two to get you
undressed yesterday.  If you hadn't had those brat kids with you I'd have
had you on the desk like that," and he snapped his fingers.  "How'd you like
to have a man take you on your own desk."

I thought back to giving it up to John-two, and how utterly I had
surrendered to him, wishing I was there now, covered with his sperm in the
blissful numbness of having been utterly ravaged. "I think I'd like it a
lot, John."

That wasn't the answer the coach wanted.

"Come on." And he pulled me up by the arm and led me down the aisle.

I don't know why I didn't fight him.  Perhaps I was actually too numb after
all, from the past two hours humiliations.  Drinking the freshmen's semen.
Blowing the insolent Rusty.  Laying down for Mike in front of Betsy, and
finally letting the revolting Ronnie jerk-off on my face.  It was still
dribbling off my lips, my chin, and my tits as the coach led me to a
nondescript door.  He pulled a key chain out of his pocket and opened it.

Instantly the smell of stale sweat wafted out.  I was looking into a narrow
row of lockers.  About ten feet past them another locker room opened up.
This one a bit dingier, a little more wear on the lockers, the benches had a
lot more scratches in them, and the odor was definitely that of a boy's
laundry hamper.

Any doubt that mind have lingered in my mind was dispelled as the sight of a
healthy, lithe, young man passed by the opening wearing nothing but a jock
strap.

Cold fear shot through me.  If I had been unable to get out of the girl's
locker room without getting fucked, photographed, and spanked on, what the
Hell could I expect from the Boy's locker room?

I opened my mouth, and felt the air escaping, but no sound as I screamed
silently in horror at the thought of being so utterly exposed, so completely
ravaged.

"Get's ya wet just thinking about it, doesn't it you little whore?"

I was too paralyzed to respond.

"What say you and I take a mosey across the locker room to my office?"

I finally found my voice, "No fucking way." I whispered.

Mr. Gold turned to me.  I could see his cock sticking up in his pants, "

"What's the matter?" he gave me a shove, pushing me through the door before
I could try to stop him. "Think a few teenage boys will be too much for
 you?"  He reached down, grabbing my sex roughly, sending stabbing pains
deep inside me as he mauled the tender skin still healing from John-two's
abuse.  Mike had been eager, but tender, but he used me the way I was meant
to be used, and I had been soapy and aroused.  Mr. Gold just pawed. "I hope
I didn't wear you down too much, Wendy.  I still got plans for that little
pussy of yours."

He pushed me back against the icy cold steel of a locker, slamming his body
against mine, burying me beneath his rigid girth, his broad, prominent gut
smashing my breasts.

"I don't say this to a lot of girls, Wendy," he breathed on me, "But you
were a pretty damned good fuck."

He suddenly let go of me, and took a half step back, still close to me,
touching his belly to me, but not the same pressure as before,

"I wasn't so bad, was I?"

"John." I murmered weakly, then looking up at him I felt my self-esteem
assert itself.  I wasn't standing, nude, cum-covered, and passive before a
dominant alpha-male.  Rather, he was a weak, insecure boy, who was
desperately trying to keep his own fragile ego from crumbling to pieces.

"Mr. Gold," I went on, "I think I liked fucking you better than any man I've
ever had in my life." I said, knowing that it was true.  Letting the coach
use me had introduced me to a form of submission that utterly engulfed
anything else that might be "Wendy."  The domination, the physical bulk, the
crushing weight, and yes, even the humiliation had spurred me to an
explosive, uncontrollable orgasm, even if the sex had been pretty dull.

The coach liked that answer, and came a bit closer, "Wendy," but I held up a
hand.

"Coach." I indicated the open locker room, and he quickly moved to block me
from view.  An easy feat for a man of his size.  His free hand, however, was
still reaching across me, holding the door back to the girl's locker room
shut.

"Mr. Gold, I let you have me.  I gave you everything a girl could give a
man."

He was smiling, nodding, "That's why I don't understand-"

But I interrupted him with another hand, "But.  But you blew me off, Coach.
You tossed me aside, you embarrassed me in front of a student, you came on
my face and didn't have the courtesy to help me clean up so I could walk to
my car."

I had to stop, as I was starting to raise my voice.  The last thing I wanted
to do was attract attention.

The coach looked a little off-put, but a weak smile reasserted itself, and
he actually shrugged, "What can I say, I mean." he looked me straight in the
eye, "You can't say you didn't love every minute of it!"

In spite of my attempts at boldness I found myself crossing my arms,
consciously trying to hide my nudity from him.

"It's too late for that game, Miss Caulder." He lunged for my sex again, but
I scooted back, slamming into the cold concrete wall to the side of the
door.  He went on, "You're gushing down there.  You could take half my team
and one or two of the cheerleaders on top, you're so wet.  You trying to
tell me that that kid shooting his load on you didn't turn you on?"

I felt my insides tingling.  I was shaking on my feet.  How could he
possibly misconstrue the fact that I was a little wet for enjoyment.  How
absurd.  He had me here, in the boy's locker room, after letting his new
Center get off on me, and he had the audacity to insinuate that I was
sexually aroused by it.

I know there wasn't any other rational explanation, but how could I
articulate that?  How could I defend that a woman gets wet when she's ready
for sex, even if she doesn't want it.  How could I force the coach to
understand that even if I was enjoying my situation, that it didn't mean
that I wanted him.

"Coach, what do you want from me?"

He smiled broadly, all traces of anger gone from his face, "Oh, you know.
Just a little fun from time to time, that's all."

"J-just sex?" I was shaking, and I knew he could see it.  I could only hope
he didn't see the quivers in my belly, or the heat which seemed to envelop
my groin.  What was I going to do this time, I wondered?

"Sex, a little head, maybe." he glanced over his shoulder, "Give some
encouragement to some of the boys."

I felt myself trying to creep into the crack between the lockers and the
wall.  I clenched my arms tight, wishing I had a third one to crush my sex
as hard as I was crushing my nipples.  "Encouragement.  Like Ronnie."

"Oh, that." The coach waved a hand dismissively, "I was just trying to make
a point.  No one will believe him.  Hell, John-two in here was telling some
of the guys that he'd fucked you silly this morning, guys make shit up all
the time."

"John-two said what?"

"Nothing.  Just guy's telling tales.  Ronnie says something they'll just
chalk it up to shallow boasting."

"What did John-two say?"

He put his hands on my shoulders, they were almost hot, and I realized half
my shaking was shivering from the cold.

"Don't worry about it, Wendy.  Mrs. Chritendom had a talk with him."

I nodde, trying to seem reassured, but John-two aside there was nothing
comfortable about my predicament.  Even as Mr. Gold gently lifted my chin up
I heard boys laughing on the far side of the locker room.

"Wendy, you look so good splattered with sperm like that.  Naked, alone,
covered in it, like a wanton slut who couldn't get enough till she was
drenched, head to toe."

I scowled at the man.

"You ought to be a little more discreet, though."

"Mr. Gold," I said, "How am I supposed to be discreet when I've got a
sophomore's semen on my face because you left me alone with him, while I'm
standing naked in the boy's locker room?"

"Oh, good point." He said, glancing over his shoulder, and removing his hand
from the door he had been barring me from all this time.

I started to move to the door, but he spoke too soon, "But I meant about the
boys in general."

I hesitated, looking at him, "What boys?  What have the boys got to do with
this?" what did he know?

"Well, what I meant about encouragement.  I mean, me and Ronnie finding you
like that in the locker room, that was good, discreet; a plausible excuse
for me to give next season's starting center an incentive to work hard."

"An incentive, like I'm a reward?"

"No, no, he waved his hands apart, "But when the boys do good, good things
happen.  Maybe next time Ronnie will get to drive the prom queen home, or
catch a glimpse of the cheerleader's changing room, little accidents, that
make them hungry for more."

"I see."  I said.  "And you want me to do this with all your boys."

He laughed heartily, "No, Wendy dear, no.  Leaving the boy to watch you was
a favor for picking my team, and not signing up for wrestling.  Frankly I
can't believe that you let him pull his thing out, much less cum all over
you, but I can't say I wasn't grateful.  That boy's going to be a Gold
player through and through on the slim chance that something like that will
ever happen again."

"I see."

"Good!  Like you did with the John's yesterday; slinky, sexy, seductive.
You don't have to let the boy's touch you to get what you want, you know?"

That thought calmed me, but the thought of letting the coach use me as some
sort of incentive reward for his proud athletes left me rigid, cold, yes
aflame with defiance.  He went on,

"Quite frankly it's better to adopt a hand's off policy.  I mean, boys talk,
and enough talk, they'll start believing.  Besides."  He didn't finish, but
he was puffing out his chest and raising his eyebrows.  The meaning was
clear.  I was his.

I felt a steady burn creeping up from my loins.  The shivering subsided and
I was filling up with a cold contempt for the ogre of a man. "Besides what,
Mr. Gold," I asked, but letting my left arm fall I scooped a runny bauble of
Ronnie's sperm off my breast, raised it lo my lips, and licked the finger
clean.

"Wendy, that's." but the coach just stared.

"The boys can't touch, but you can, Mr. Gold?" I asked, scooping up a runnel
that had gone nearly down to my belly.

"Well, yes, I mean, you're a teacher." But he stopped again as I slurped up
the little troll's semen.  It was actually quite good compared to other
semen.  Salty, smoky, and with a little bit of flavor.  It smelled like
detergent, but on the tongue it was far better than any other man I'd had
the previous day.

Mr. Gold grabbed my hand away, then just as quickly let me go as he
recoiled, wiping his hand off frantically on his shirt hem.  "Wendy, that's
disgusting.  That's not.  You're not supposed to." but he peered at me, "You
're just trying to get under my skin, aren't you?"

I found myself smiling, and nodding, replacing the finger in my mouth as a
scooped the dribble of semen off my chin.

"You little whore," he wagged a finger at me, but he was grinning, "I'd fuck
you silly right here if you didn't have that boy's stuff all over you."

I made a goggle-eyed baby face at him, lolling my head, "You gonna let a
little 'stuff' stop you coach?" and I turned around, and leaned forward,
jutting my ass out at him, rubbing it into his bulging hard crotch.

I felt, rather than heard him moan, just before his body shuddered, but he
snatched me by the shoulders and straightened me up, "Are you crazy, woman?
We can't do it in here?"

But I turned on him.  Just around back of him I saw two boys, probably
sophomores.  They were dressing down, but didn't seem to notice the coach or
myself.  They probably thought he was talking to a student.  The coach didn'
t see them at all.

I gave the coach a grin, and stuck my hand in his shorts, grappling his
member, hard to the point of bursting, "Don't you want me, coach?" I
whispered.

The coach, for the first time was speechless.  He quickly overcame that as I
started pumping him, "Oh, all right you little slut, but make it quick." And
with a firm hand he pushed me down, but I twisted, and bent at the waist
rather than going down to my knees, but took his shorts down to the ankles
in the process.  Stealing a glance I could see the two boys still hadn't
spied me behind Mr. Gold, nor noticed anything amiss as far away as they
were.

I straightened up, the feelings of arousal sweeping over me like they had
yesterday in the temp.  I felt like I was literally burning up inside,
yearning to be seen, used, and fucked, but I was in control and I knew how I
wanted this to be done.

I looked Mr. Gold in the eye, "How about a kiss first?"

Mr. Gold recoiled at the thought, his face twisting, "No way, Wendy.
Unh-uh!"

I faked a pout and put my hands on my hips, "My mouth is good enough to wrap
around your cock, but not good enough for a kiss?"

"Not until you wash up, honey.  And brush your teeth."

That was exactly what I had expected him to say.

"Well then," I said, taking a step back.  "Don't move a muscle."

I pulled the door open, and a quick glance assured me that the locker room
appeared, at least, to be empty.  I felt at the locking mechanism, the same
as all the hall doors, and flipped the autolock.  I stepped through and gave
Mr. Gold a wink.  He stood there, shorts around his ankles, totally confused
for the loop I'd taken, "Don't move a muscle." I said.

I hesitated for a moment.  I was genuinely burning up inside.  I really
wanted nothing less than a thunderous ovation of cock in my cunt and felt
like I'd crumble to dust with the shame of being led around nude for the
last hour if I didn't get some kind of satisfaction.

But I resolved to get it from some more deserving soul, if anyone, and
slammed the door as hard, and as loud as I could, while Mr. Gold's face
dropped in terror as the door swung closed.

I could only imagine the reaction of the boys down the aisle, any anyone
else who might come running.

My heart beating hard I put a foot down against the door, hoping to brake it
against Mr. Gold should he try to escape, but I knew it was faster for him
to just pull up.  Nevertheless I leaved there for a long moment, though I
could hear nothing through the door.  My sex seemed to throb heavily, and my
body ached to be abused again, in spite of being ravished and humiliated in
more ways in 24 hours than I'd been in my entire life.  Regardless, I felt
the pain and shame wane as the satisfaction of a job well done settled on
me.

I left the door, smiling boldly now.  I had to get my clothes on and get to
my next class, in spite of my intense arousal, and I knew I'd be late again,
but first I needed yet another shower, to wash off Ronnie's spunk.

Besides, I thought.  I might get lucky again.

-- 
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>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+